Déjà Voo Doo
Haven't We Done This Shit to You Before?
I can't tell if I like it better or not. What says you?
The reason I don't blog much about my job, is because nothing changes there. Here's what my entry headings would look like: "Resident Fell Tonight", We Had a Fall This Evening", "We Sent Resident to ER This Evening", "Two Residents Fell at Work", "I Hate My Job",
"I Hate My Job"
"I Hate My Job"
See how monotonous that would be?
That being mentioned, We Had a Fall This Evening, Sent Resident to ER. The resident's daughter was bringing her home from shopping and left her alone momentarily while she unloaded some bags from the backseat. Resident fell. On the asphalt. Cutting open the back of her head. A moment later, in runs another resident, with the fallen resident's daughter yelling to us that someone had fallen in the parking lot.
Out we go, the other Dealer (the one that's quitting) and I. Her daughter tells us she hit the back of her head but that she had rolled her over onto her side so that she'd "be more comfortable." I have yet to manage to comprehend people's stupidity. Seriously.
I call on the walkie that we're going to need the vitals kit outside of exit 7, ASAP, and find myself kneeling on the pavement, my hands beneath her head, covered in blood, trying to question her about pain while being drowned out by her daughter (who is perfectly calm) rambling about how cold we're (the Dealers) are going to get. I finally just said, "look, I'm going to need you to keep quiet for a few moments, I need to talk to your mom." She gave me a not-so-nice look, but shut up. I sent the other Dealer back inside for a blanket, because it was getting a little cooler out there (was 69 degrees earlier) and the resident was starting to shiver. Out came the girl with the vitals kit; her vitals were high, but relatively normal. The other Dealer brought back the blanket, covered the resident up, and I rattled off her vitals and asked her to go call the nurse. She's a good dealer, absolutely, but I think in moments of crisis, she loses her logic.
This is where I come in. I rock. :)
Anyway, I ask the resident "do you hurt anywhere besides the back of your head?" She responds, "not too bad."
"Not too bad."
I say, "not too bad indicates that you do hurt somewhere. What hurts a little?" and am immediately drowned out, again, by her daughter that says: "Just pick her up and put her in my car, I'll take her to the E.R."
By now, the other Dealer has returned, with orders from our on-call nurse, to call an ambulance to pick her up. Protocol states that bleeding head injuries are automatically sent to the hospital. Makes sense.
Her daughter tells us again that she doesn't want the ambulance and "lets just pick her up and I'll take her."
I glance up at the other Dealer, trying to gauge if she'll have my back if I tell the daughter that moving the resident isn't the greatest idea I've ever heard, but my co-dealer - without even glancing down my way - says "ok guys, lets get her up."
Oh yes, she did.
I told daughter that she shouldn't be moved without being evaluated first, because after all, it was her head she cracked open, and it was asphalt she hit. Daughter vetoed me.
I told the resident to tell me if anything at all hurt while she was being moved, and helped roll the her onto her back. I asked again if anything hurt, and she responded "not much". I contemplated coming unglued.
I turned the head-holding position over to the CNA and stated that I would go inside for copies of her paperwork - that I did not agree with the decision to move her, and therefore, I would not make it.
I went inside, and when I returned with the paperwork, the resident was sitting outside, in the daughter's car, waiting for the daughter to return from inside.
She left her mom alone, bleeding head wound (the blood had drastically slowed by now), in the car. I was not a happy camper.
Anyway, this one has an ok ending. The resident returned later, the gashes in her head not deep enough to warrant stitches or staples, the knot on her head and a bit of blood still in her hair were the only telltale signs of what had transpired.
The doctor had said the injuries (she had 3 cuts on her head) weren't worthy of a CT scan, and no other x-rays were done. The daughter brought us back absolutely no ER paperwork - which they always give out - and later I finally asked my co-dealer, "do we know she actually went to the hospital?"
A little later, the resident was looking for her glasses. Guess where I found them? In the middle of the parking lot - where they had been run over.
Picture this, if you will - resident falls backwards up by the curb in straight slot parking.. Up by the CURB.. She falls backwards and her glasses wind up in the MIDDLE of the parking lot. How fast do you think she fell; how hard did she hit? The other resident that had run in to get us came and sat with us a bit later saying, "I can't get the sound of my head." When asked what sound she was talking about she said "the sound of her head hitting the sidewalk."
I genuinely will not be surprised if I go to work tonight to find out she's in worse pain. In fact, if it turns out something was fractured, I won't be surprised.
I hope I'm wrong this time. But if not, I'll be there to tell them "I told you so."