Thursday, March 15, 2012


One of the most panicky calls I've had so far when acting as Captain was not a raging inferno but a pretty straightforward medical call. And what I mean by straightforward was that the dude was DRD. As in dead-right-there. We walked into the house, police were already present (said officer coolly mumbled to me 'oh yeah he's done' ). My crew assessed the gentleman and although his body was still warm because he was still in bed under the covers, rigor had set in his jaw and he had lividity on his back. So, I called in a code 5 (obvious signs of death) to dispatch saying we wouldn't be performing any defib protocol. You can imagine my horror when the paramedics arrived and examined the body and turned to me saying that the lividity looked like bruising and his jaw wasn't all that stiff. They were glaring at me as they proceeded to hook up the 12 lead. I knew the guy was dead. I mean I thought he was dead. But self doubt had me going and now I was unsure. I was inwardly freaking as the ECG spit out the reading.

As selfish as it sounds, I never wished until this moment for anyone to stay dead.

Because I would never live down the guilt of failing to provide CPR and due care.

Turns out we made the right call. He was dead. Massive heart attack in his sleep. Although never a happy situation, probably one of the better ways to go.

No comments:

Post a Comment