The Corporal's Shenanigans: November 2005

UPDATED 11/02/05 _Scroll down for recent post.

Of Course these EMS stories are true. You just can't make stuff like this up.
FAQ's about The Corporal and EMS Stories.

Are your posts about The Corporal Fact? Fiction?
The answer is yes, they are FACT. You just can not make shit like this up. These are things that really happened to me, things I have observed, and things I have seen. I can vouch for their authenticity.

How did you remember the conversations?
I have a photographic memory for random crap and things that tickle my funnybone. Working as an EMT made a huge impression on me. It was the best job I ever had. The rewards were phenomenal. I made lifelong friends, learned many valuable lessons that I could apply to my life in general, I gained confidence, and I was able to make a difference in peoples lives. I also kept an old fashioned journal back then. You know, the books with blank pages that you write in?

How many 'stories' have you blogged so far?
So far, there are 19 EMS posts. If you want to read them all, or if you missed one here they are. (Go ahead and click on the titles below. I am contemplating adding them to my sidebar as I go. The sidebar still needs pruning anyway.)

Scroll Down for links to all EMS related Posts.

What was your most memorable call? Have you mentioned it yet?
Yes, I have mentioned it. There are so many memorable calls, but 'Madame Spittle' always pops into my head first most of the time. (See 5150: The patient, the idiot at the gas station or myself?)

Are you going to post more 'stories'?
Of course. I've got 5 years worth of this stuff!

Is there anything I have left out? If there are any questions burning in your mind, throw them out there. I'll be happy to answer them.

Some students drink at the fountain of knowledge. Others just gargle.

-E.C. McKenzie

Ever try teaching a class full of grown men who would rather be somewhere else? It's like trying to teach banana slugs.

Once upon a time, I was a Criteria Based Dispatch Instructor for what was then known as Department of Public Health. I'm not up to date on the EMS structure for a certain large city, but that is what it was called back then.

At that time, the fire department and DPH were going through some changes, and they were implementing King County's 'Criteria Based Dispatch' System. Kind of like 'Choose your own adventure'. My task was to teach the new Dispatchers the CBD system. The problem was, many of the students were firegihters placed on light duty status. Do you think they wanted to be there? NO. Do you think that they made my day wonderful? NO.

I think that I effectively blocked out most of the torturous moments and tell everyone that it was one of the best jobs I ever had. I am probably just trying to convince myself. The first thing that pops into my mind when I think about my days as a CBD instructor is the day that I had grown tired of talking to a wall of blank stares. It just so happened to be 'How to identify the death rattle over the phone' day. (Not really, but that was the topic I decided to drill into their heads that day.) You see, my so-instructor and I had a plethora of actual calls on tape at our disposal. I ran through my lecture as normal, had them follow along in the CBD 'flip charts' as if they were taking the call, and then I let them have it. I decided to see how long it took for them to realize that I was playing the same tape , over and over again, on brainwash rotation. If you haven't heard 'the death rattle', it is pretty un-nerving. It is the last gurgle the body makes after the heart has stopped functioning, and the body has ceased to be. Morbid. I know. So anyway,I started playing this tape every time I stopped talking. I played the tape as background noise during the breaks, and I even played it while my co-instructor was lecturing. This went on for the remainder of the class. (Read, 3 hours). Class was dismissed and one of the students went home looking a little green around the gills. I stopped him and asked him if he was OK.

ME: You look a little green. You feel alright?
Him: Uh, I will be, after a stiff drink.
ME: You're telling me. I feel like that every day.
Him: Can I ask you something?
Me: Sure!
Him: Can we please move on to another call tomorrow? If I hear the death rattle one more time, the rest of the class will hear mine, as I hit the floor.
Me:*Trying not to laugh* Huh, I didn't think anyone paid attention.
Him: That was pure evil. They don't call you 'The Corporal' for no reason.
Me:WHO told you that?
Him: Uh...will I pass the class if I don't tell you?
Me: Yes. I think I already know. I promise, no more death rattle. I'll beat you to it if students don't start to participate. Shit. I'll settle for reaction. I feel like I am standing in front of a bunch of banana slugs. I know half of you don't want to be here, but really. Makes one want to just wig out in the middle of lecture to see if anyone is alive.
Him: Well...to tell you the truth, we were uh...thinking of other things while you lecture...
Me: I DON'T WANT TO KNOW.
Him:*blushing wildly* If we start asking questions and participating, you won't play the death rattle anymore?
Me: It's a deal.
Him: Promise?
Me: What are you? Designated negotiator? I promise. Cross my heart, hope I don't die, shove a red hot poker through my eye. Good enough for you?
Him: Sure. GOD, I hope I NEVER hear the death rattle again. I'll puke on the spot. Even though you are evil incarnate, wanna join us for that drink?
Me: 1st round's on me.

The next class was incredible. From that day forward, teaching was a breeze. I should have thought of subliminal torture earlier.

Not all classes got off to a bad start. I also taught First Aid and CPR, as well as Basic Trauma Life Support Assessment.

With the First Aid and CPR classes, those were straight forward classes, follow the curriculum, make sure everyone gets it, and all is good. EXCEPT when you must teach 30 Girl Scouts at once. They were the easiest students to teach, and they came up with a TON of questions.

What if their breath stinks?
What if they are too big for you to move?
What if you aren't strong enough, should you sit on their chest to push?
What if you throuw up, or pass out?
What if they are big crybabies and don't want you to touch their cuts?
What if they don't speak english?

And my personal favorite:

What if it is someone you don't like? Can you apply pressure harder and pretend that you HAVE to sqeeze it tight?

The Basic Trauma Life Support Assessment classes were by far the most fun to teach, where else can you act like a crazed person, play with makeup, false guts, blood & gore, all while strapping down people (firefighters, paramedics, doctors, RNs and EMTs) to backboards? It really deserves a whole post of its own. I have a ton of pictures and stories, so I will leave you with ...

The tip of the day:

Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.

-Albert Einstein