I Just Can't See The Wood Through The Trees.

Good evening all.

Quite a late entry, but I've just got home from dropping Greg off at the Train Station. Ugh, I really am in a total pickle right now. Just so many things happening at once, do you ever get that sense that you just want to go to sleep, and wake up and everything be better, but you just wake up to reality, I can't even be bothered to talk to anyone right now; hence I'm doing a blog. Nobody really reads this, it's just my way of expressing things that I suppose I can't talk to anyone else about. It's all very rhetorical.

I'm moving house, and thank god! I hate the people I live with, bar one. Two paediatric nurses that are so lazy, scummy, and boy obsessed that no matter what, come rain or shine, they WILL ensure that they get to the Student Union bar on a Wednesday evening to flirt with them, even if there are god knows how much stuff to do in the house. I'm fed up of food clogging up the sink hole, hair strands filling up the bath, the scum from their fake tan leaving a dirty rim around the bath after a shower, pizza boxes, empty beer cans, vodka bottles, over flowing bin bags, burnt food left in the oven, the list goes on. I can't bare living with them! luckily I've found a new place, and the person I'm moving in with has a Cat called Daisy, so that will be nice. I Love Animals! It's just the stress of moving I'm not looking forward to.

Greg came down to London Monday evening as his sister recently gave birth to his nephew, little William. He's gorgeous! we went to see him yesterday, really is a beaut! I don't really know where my head is at right now, I was so happy to see Greg yesterday, he is not just my boyfriend, but a best friend. I really have such good laughs with him, but lately we haven't spoke much; about a month or so. We were in the car driving to his mothers, and he said he had something to tell me. I knew what it was, I always have an incline at things like this. Whilst he was in Vegas, he kissed someone else. Now I know that he had the decency to tell me, and I'm grateful he did, and that it was only just a kiss... but it's the fact he broke my trust, and totally let me down. I'm not angry, just disappointed, and it makes me wonder about further things. Ugh i really don't know how i should feel about this. I Love Greg. I totally do, but this has just thrown a small spiteful sharp spanner in the works. It's a Kiss, but it's something now that's playing on my head.

Hence i can't see the wood through the trees.

We've had such a good day, we went to Canary Wharf last night for dinner, walked through the park late at night and the sprinklers came on, got us soaking wet! Was lovely looking at all the bright lights that late at night. Then this morning we went out and had dinner in Soho, went for a little bit of shopping, laid down on the grass together and had a nap. Greg is the only person I've ever been with where I'm not ashamed to hold his hand in public. Today was so nice, and I know that's what it has always been like. But he's kissed someone else, he's bitten into that apple now.. What happens now?

We'll See.

Goodnight.

Looking For Trauma To Keep You Alive, And Me Awake.

Good morning! technically good afternoon, but I have just woken up, yes at 16:16. i was working nights, 1900 to 0700 on the J599, duty station officer car. No no no, I'm not a station officer... yet. the reason why I was working on the J599 car was because the DSO gets sent to all the trauma, things such as stabbings, shootings, hangings, jumpers, fires, drownings, etc. and as i get my bag in just 4 months!!! i thought it would be good experience for me.

I did encounter a very big RTC the other day with a chest impalement. he crashed at 80mph, and had a wooden post impaled through his chest, bleeding internally. I froze for less than 2 seconds as i never have seen anything like that before, but i sucked up the shock and got stuck in. i was first on scene, i banged two 16gauge cannulas in each arm, put him on 100% oxygen non-re breather and started getting observations on him. He had such a horrendous injury to his chest, that i could physically see his lung inflating in front of me. He started to get consolidation in his left lung, so it was either filling up with blood, or he was tensioning from a pneumothorax. I wasn't going to decompress it though, i knew the doctors wouldn't be long, and if need be, he'd do a chest drain.

That boy is still alive. He played knock out ginger on deaths door, and was very lucky not to get caught. It's the quick thinking, the fast acting, and paramount communication from technician/paramedics, doctors, police, and nurses that manage to establish life. It is something that makes me feel proud and as though I've done my job to the best of my ability, when I see someone in their worst last minutes, but drag them out that downward spiral.

There are a few people I strive to make proud, my Mother Bonnie and Father Paul, and my PPED/APPED; Lee and Simon. Lee is the Paramedic and she is my PPED (Paramedic Practice Placement Educator) and she overseas all my signing off. She has to ensure that everything i do is accurate. She is one of my best friends that allows me to crash out on her sofa after one too many. Simon was the Technician and my APPED (Assistant Practice Placement Educator) of the crew, but also a best friend. He was gay too, and acted like an older brother to me, showed me the routes of London, the kind of clubs he went to, his friends, his home etc. He really took me under his wing and made sure I was looked after. Simon recently died from an overdose, it's something i have really struggled to cope with, and wont ever understand why he never spoke to us before about his problems.

Those 2 seconds of frozen shock were overcome by me saying in my head, "Simon is telling you to crack on Declan!" and that's when I got down and began to save that dying boy. I know Simon would have been proud, I just wish he was here to see me do it. I made a promise to myself, that I would always be the best Paramedic i can be, even on the days the patient really did not require an Ambulance, I'll remain professional and polite. Something that Simon taught me was a fundamental quality of being in our job.

The Good Paramedic Gets Sued

The Bad Paramedic Gets Sued

The Nice Paramedic, Never Gets Sued.

Rest In Peace Si.

You got my back.

My Blog, From the Bog...

Okay. Where to begin with this one, I haven't ever had a blog before, I thought I would start one up as a few people I know have one, and the way they talk about it sounds quite sophisticated and a good talking point. I have always wanted to do one, but I never thought anyone would read it.. to be honest, I don't still don't think people would.. therefore it's nothing more than for me to air my thoughts, and if someone does find this; then hopefully it will make nice reading.

Let me begin by telling you a little bit about myself.My name is Declan, I am 21 years old, and am a Paramedic Student living, and working, in the centre of London. I have a mother and father, Bonita and Paul. I also fall nothing short of a large family, with 8 siblings; and over 80 cousins. Irish Catholic; you guessed it! Family holidays are a blast! I moved to London 3 years ago to help with my studies, I'm just coming to the end of them now and should qualify within four months. You missed out on all the juicy fun stuff, but I'm sure I will be reflecting upon those moments at various times.So that's me, quite your average lad... just out of the office.

So I guess you're wondering then why my blog is done from the bog.. well. I've had to take some explosive like laxatives in aid for my Colonoscopy procedure tomorrow. Back in April this year, i was out clubbing with my boyfriend, i was a delegated driver so I was just drinking water. We were in the Club and i was overcome by this unforgettable abdominal pain in my epigastrium, radiating to just above my naval. I told my oh-so fantastic partner, who turned and said "Oh, you probably just need a big ol' fart!" .... now, as a paramedic in London, I would say 70% of my attendance is to the typical abdo pain, and with my very little, but often experience of abdo pain sufferers, I would say my pain was certainly not a little bit of trapped wind.

I went to the toilet, and projectile vomited my stomach contents into this shiny cold metal toilet, that for once, unlike normal public loo's was clean!... not for long. The Nandos Chicken I had consumed at Westfields Shopping Centre was soon staring me back in the face, half digested.After a few chundering sessions, I managed to give my face a dab with water and walk back to where my boyfriend was stood. Let me just get the picture right in your head, he wasn't stood there in the club with a pint, in a shirt and nice jeans. No... that's not Greg. He was stood in a vest, with a denim vest/waistcoat over the top. A pair of sunglasses on, one single glove on his left hand, and shorts; whilst sipping on a Bicardi and coke. I don't care too much, if he wants to make statements, let him rock on! ha ha.

So there I was, and the next thing I knew, the pain was back in at 100mph. BANG! I was keeling over in agony, I said to Greg we needed to go, and I needed to go to Hospital. He looked at me and said "Really? is it necessary though?" well.... I started to get dyspnoeic (difficulty in breathing) and the pain was getting worse.We were outside and he called an ambulance for me... after asking if it was 911... he's so very American.

From then, I was in hospital for a while, with fecal loading in my colon, free fluid in my pelvis, and no free air under my diaphragm: hence the dyspnoea.So they want to follow up, and hence the laxatives. I've been sat here for 30 minutes now and the storm is still going strong! Hopefully Greg will realise that this hasn't all been in aid of getting him on television; he thought he was being Punk'd as I knew the Ambulance and Hospital staff. People don't generally fake projectile vomiting.

Bottoms up!

Go Steady.

Dec