The Rusty Wire Service

Well…first year ambulance placement is over. It was a laff-riot shot through with all sorts of sadness, madness and tragedy. I know it was pretty much the same for all my cohorts; to varying degrees and intensities. In that time, we found ourselves front and centre in local and international news stories and major incidents. But it's never about what the reporters say, or don't say, or just flat-out concoct; that's actually another thing that becomes apparent rather quickly even after only a few weeks on the road (especially as a former hack).  But aside from all that high-tension, high-stakes drama, there would also be numerous situations where we found ourselves dealing with the littlest of ‘little sick’ and wondering why, in the name of all that's holy, had we been called out while the  mobile data terminal ( MDT) was requesting crews to attend a stabbing or an RTC (Road traffic collision)? But if life gives you lemons...at least practice running a good set...

The first tranche of placement – for me at least – passed in a whirlwind of baby delivery, a hit-and-run with HEMS (Helicopter Emergency Medical Service) on scene, a veritable plethora of DIBs (Difficulty in Breathing), a smattering of panic attacks and one sickle cell crisis that I think about every day. There was lots more besides. I had high drama and hilarity, poets, artists and alcoholics, hope and hopelessness, the venal and the visceral; all jostling together in the perpetual heartbreak flicker of blue lights strung out over the long London night. Like most of my colleagues on the cohort, I didn’t want placement to finish. Sure, by the end I was exhausted and trying hard to process the sheer volume of information and experience that had been laid on me in those five weeks but still, I was more than a little wistful on that last day. On a purely human level (other people do the clinical side so much better), I have found that re-adjusting to a ‘civilian’ schedule ...

Being a first year Paramedic Science student sometimes has an air of make-believe about it. We dress proudly in uniform for skills classes but we are by and large untested. And sometimes – particularly now, just ahead of placement – the restlessness this generates is practically palpable. Don’t get me wrong; the scenarios we play out in the  skills labs  mightn’t exactly be Shakespearean tragedies – they’re usually just ordinary human tragedies but they’re no less gripping for all that. In these urgent clinical dramas, it’s a bit like method acting; the more you commit to your role, the more you tend to learn. But until we get out on placement, this all seems a little theoretical; at least for those of us who don’t yet have that kind of clinical experience. It’s all been leading up to this and now, after time sometimes seeming to drag, the hour of placement is suddenly almost upon us. A Monday morning briefing on 20 February for those going with the London Ambul...