Christmas Song

[Kaisu]

We are toned out for 94 year old female, fall victim, facial injuries, laceration. It was one of those bad gravity days. We had run on fall victim after fall victim. I always shudder at these. Of all the indignities of old age, this is one I had never considered – the inability to negotiate your world; the dangers people face in undertaking the simplest of everyday tasks; the courage it takes to just go to the bathroom.

My patient is in her bed. She lives in a nursing home; one of the good ones. The home is clean and well ordered; it actually smells good. Her room-mate lies on a floor level sleeping pad, wracked with contractures. The room-mate's face is averted: she strains to shift her eyes towards me. Her mouth opens and closes spasmodically.

I turn my attention to the patient. A caregiver sits on the edge of her bed and relates the mishap. The patient had tipped from a sitting position on the edge of the bed, hitting her face on her room-mate's bed frame.

The patient has the “skull pushing out of the face” appearance of the very old and the very ill. Her cheekbones jut out of her skin, eyes huge in their sunken frames, high, narrow nose, square jaw. Her face is etched with deep farrows and wrinkles; her hair is long, thick and gray. The patient suffers from dementia. My efforts to communicate are met with limited success.

Assessment is quick, decisions are made, precautions taken. The patient is lifted onto the gurney and moved into the ambulance. We head for the hospital. All business taken care of, I reach for an ice pack, folding it into I towel.

I explain that I would like to apply the ice pack to her forehead. She quietly turns her face towards me and trustingly waits. I gently apply the ice. Holding this ice against her face, in the dark, morning hours away, I am struck again with the “rightness” of what I am doing. This is what this job is about – not the technical skills, the flash of the procedures, the egos and infighting. It boils down to two people, one hurting and helpless, the other privileged to be able to help.

The patient puts her hand against my wrist. In a quiet voice she states “too cold”. I remove the compress. I wait a few minutes, then say “lets try it again for a few minutes”. Again, she assents. I hold the ice for a few minutes, then remove it. We sit in the silence as the ambulance makes its way to the hospital, she on her gurney, me on the bench.

Then it starts. From deep within her, almost a moaning, a soft, rhythmic chanting. At first I am not sure of what I am hearing. I lean closer to her and I hear a song. It is an ancient American Indian song, the cadences older than time. In her singing, I hear of tragedy and joy, life and death, inexpressible morning and the triumph of the human spirit. It raises the hair on my arms; this gift of her song. We sit in the night, heading for the hospital, she singing and I listening.

Edited December 13, 2011 by CrapMagnet

[nypamedic43]

Wow CM!! Reading that story gave me goosebumples. Sometimes it isnt the skills we perform like a 12 lead...its the simplicity of holding a hand...or applying an ice pack. Thanks for sharing

Edited December 13, 2011 by nypamedic43

[DFIB]

Simply a wonderful experience and great story! Thank you for sharing.

Edited for spelling

Edited December 13, 2011 by DFIB

[Happiness]

Good story and your right it isnt all about all the skills we have its about the compassion that we give.

[Just Plain Ruff]

If you ever decide to leave EMS I'm sure that your place as an author has been secured. You have a great way of telling a story. I'm touched.

[HERBIE1]

CM- awesome story. It cannot be said enough times- its the little things we do that people remember. As a newly minted EMT or medic, that is a lesson that takes time to learn. I'll echo what was said above- I think there is far more skill involved with knowing WHEN we need to use all our toys and skills vs actually doing it.

I find that some of the older folks- particular men- enjoy telling a joke- probably more out of nerves than a desire to make anyone laugh. I had a guy who was in moderate resp distress- a COPD patient that had sats in the low 80's when we arrived. He was initially pretty ornery, and we attributed it to hypoxia. Sure enough, as his sats improved with O2, albuterol and atrovent, he calmed down, began perking up, his sats were soon in the low 90's, and suddenly the guy thinks he's a stand up comedian. I wish I could recall some of the jokes, but he was like Rodney Dangerfield-self deprecating as well as taking shots at his wife(she was not there). This guy was FUNNY, and had me in stitches. I had a heck of a time not laughing as I was giving my telemetry report on the radio. A couple times, HE began to laugh, started to cough and would drop his sats. I told him to take it easy and not talk so much, but he was on a roll, and clearly enjoying himself. As we hit the ER he was comfortable, and in minimal if any distress. My partner opened the back doors and asked what the hell was going on, and what was so damn funny. The patient and I just busted up laughing again.

My report to the ER staff started with- "Have Mr. Smith tell you the one about the..." He thanked us for helping him, and I thanked HIM for making my day.

[tniuqs]

It boils down to two people, one hurting and helpless, the other privileged to be able to help.

Exactly carry on Crap Magnet you make me proud of what we do in EMS.