A day in the work life of La Crosse Paramedic Crystal Wallin...

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“501 please respond for a male subject who is turning yellowish-orange”

“Copy, 501 en route”

Two females seated in kitchen, one teary. 40s male seated on couch, Mt Dew at hand and completely unconcerned. Denies any symptoms, no medical history of any kind, no medications, and no desire to be seen in the ER.

Wife, brow furrowed; “maybe it’s because I haven’t seen him in daylight in so long”

Mother in law, bent forward with hands on hips, nose inches from patient’s face, inspecting his eyes; “what you maybe need is to go out on the deck and just have a cigarette in the sunlight”

Neighbor arrives, hugs wife tearfully, says to fire personnel; “last time I was catatonic I was going thru my friend’s drawers, almost pulled out my nose ring. That was after I had the grand mal and then went tonic clonic.”

Wife, helpfully; “he isn’t even a drug user!”

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Arriving at destination, another crew from our company is almost through putting their truck together, readying to clear the garage. Crew member A, who is a new medic, walks to my driver’s side door and opens it with an ear to ear grin. I call out at destination and look at him quizzically, because this is awful cheery even for him. Not to mention this door side greeting.

“We had a code.  I needled a patient.”

Long pause.

“Twice.”

Ear splitting grin widens further. It’s like candy for medics, and he just had Halloween.

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76yr old female, en route to ER with chief complaint chest pain and pressure, worrying about her significant other.

“He’s eighty six, I worry about him. I'd be lost without him.”

Expecting a tale of long wedded bliss, “How long have you two been together?”

“Four years.”

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Using the lift sheet, we settle her on the couch where her husband indicates. The brain tumor has taken a lot, but her dark haired beauty shines thru. The deep brown eyes look off to the left, unseeing. A half smile was her reply to my compliment on her pink shirt, which is clearly her color. The gorgeous home is littered mildly with toys, and the husband apologizes, “I have two little girls. I can’t keep up….” His voice trails off.

Walking the empty cot back down the ramp in silence, we pass two small pink Dora bikes and the juxtaposition between their cheery countenance and the beautiful vacant face inside is blinding.

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After all this time spent in an ambulance, years as a volunteer and these since paramedic school, I learned a new trick today. Old dogs – you know.

If you remove the visor from its clip and rotate it to the side, you can roll down the window for a breeze without having the top of your head blown off as you drive down the road. This may not sound like a lot but on a busy call, the new sweaters that look so sharp and keep us toasty have a nasty habit of suddenly making it feel like you’re wearing a sauna. An open window while driving after this is heaven but getting out looking like you lost a fight with an egg beater isn’t professional, generally speaking.

I share this fact with my female partner as we clear the hospital. She’s charting and we’re driving down the city street, orange lights lighting up the cab and fading quickly, only to be replaced by the next streetlight’s glow. I think how our faces must look orange, and smile to myself at how the day came full circle. Ka-thunk, ka-thunk, the wheels are a metronome of nighttime.

“the stars were high above them, the moon was in the east

the road goes on forever, and the party never ends” 

-Kris, Johnny, Waylon & Willie