“I ain’t going to no hospital!”
“Yes you are.”
No, I ain’t!”
“Yes you are.”
“No I ain’t!”
This was going well. I was in the first floor apartment of a diabetic seventy year old man. His skin was gray and diaphoretic, blood oozed from untreated eczema in his crotch. He was conscious and alert but obviously in need of medical intervention. The guys from Engine 3 were in the tiny place with me and Vicro, the man’s two daughters and a bunch of grand kids filled the kitchen and doorway.
One of his daughters called us because she was afraid for her fathers well-being. He lived by himself, kept the place up fairly well and was fiercely proud of his independence.
“I’m taking you to the hospital, even if I have to kidnap you.”
“You and what army?”
I looked over to Rob Crellin, a firefighter from Engine 13 with a remarkable similarity to Harry Potter.
“Me and Harry Potter.”
Rob grabbed his right side, I took the left. We lifted him to his feet and started toward the stretcher. I couldn’t believe the power that exuded from the tired old man’s body. He stopped us in our tracks.
“I ain’t going!” He shouted.
The man’s family did their best to talk him in to going, he adamantly refused. I refused to give up. This guy wouldn’t make it through the night, I was sure of it.
“Let’s go,” I said to Rob. We picked him up and dropped him into the stretcher, no nonsense, this time. The strength he showed a few minutes ago was spent. He sat, rejected in the stretcher as we strapped him in and wheeled him out of his home, maybe for the last time.
Once in the truck we took his vital signs. Blood pressure 64/40 with a pulse of 130. Possibly dehydrated, maybe internal bleeding. I felt his abdomen for point tenderness and masses, started a large bore IV and started fluids. The hospital was less than a mile away.
He ended up in a trauma room, more IV’s, more fluids. Later that night I looked in on him. The doctor told me it was probably renal failure. Add that to his list of ailments. The man peeked at me through the labyrinth of wires and tubes and motioned for me to come closer. He offered his hand. I took it. In a low voice he said, “Thank you boys. You knew what was best.” He closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Boy oh boy Michael. If I ever have to call you guys and you say “You’re going to the hospital” I promise I will obey!!! LOL.I’m glad the gentleman realized that you knew what was best. He probably felt a lot better once he had gotten some treatment. The end comes to us all in time but at least we can each be made a bit more comfortable. You did a good job as usual.By the way. Tell Rob AKA Harry Potter that Grandma Muggle sends regards. I hope I get to meet him someday. LOL.Fondly, Pat.