Call-Red-Major

By Paul S. Medland

on discovery of a serious road traffic accident while out cycling, and through lack of knowledge unable to do anything to save the lives of the victims, the author felt a sense of uselessness, a guilt that he was unable to help, so he took up first-aid, never to be in the same position again. this book details his wide range of experiences in the voluntary, national health and private ambulance sectors. not written as a diary or a blog, the book describes the reasons for joining, the training, and explains the deep feelings and emotions felt when undertaking very stressful and sometimes very dangerous scenarios. the book is both happy and sad, written lightly to help subdue the painful emotions, yet still explain the deep sadness sometimes experienced, that carried on affecting him many years after leaving the role. proud of his training, his experiences, his work and abilities, ambulances are now in his blood. 'once a ambulanceman - always a ambulanceman!'

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul S. Medland
• Release date: May 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476309224

Paul S. Medland

The author has a wide background in the medical and care fields, previously working as a Physiological Measurement Technician specialising in Audiology; a Operating Department Assistant in a busy operating theatre; and spending many years in both the NHS and Private Ambulance Services as a Emergency Medical Technician (EMT). He also has qualifications in Health & Safety and has extensive background knowledge of working with Abuse, Learning Disabilities and Autism.He enjoys writing about a variety of subjects, both factual and fictional, Following giving up work due to illness, he uses his factual books to teach and to share his gained knowledge and experiences with others.He also has interests in the Unknown and unexplainable.. UFOs / ghosts / conspiracies etc. and in his fictional books mixes both fact and fiction (Faction), creating fictional stories but based in real places or with real people and events. Written in a way to make you think, but leaving you to make up your own mind.

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Paul S. Medland

Copyright Paul S. Medland 2012

Published at Smashwords

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"Some stories will make you laugh, some might even make you cry,

As I try to relate to you,

The years that have gone by.

Call – Red - Major

The memoirs of an Ambulanceman

By

Paul S. Medland.Dip.RSA

Index

Preface & Dedication

Chapter 1: Why did I become a Ambulanceman.

Chapter 2: The NHS Ambulance Services.

Chapter 3: The Private Ambulance Services.

Chapter 4: The Voluntary Services.

Chapter 5: It’s not always easy !.

Chapter 6: Trains, Planes and Automobiles.

Chapter 7: Oh I think it’s coming !

Chapter 8: Day Work.

Chapter 9: Untitled Miscellany.

Chapter 10: Death.

Chapter 11: The Future.

Chapter 12: Ambulances.

Chapter 13: The Stresses, The Strains, The Unwritten Requirements.

Chapter 14: So why did I leave ?

What is a Ambulanceman.

Glossary of Ambulance terms & Abbreviations.

PREFACE

This book contains an account of some of the experiences the author encountered undertaking Ambulance related work. Some from time spent in the voluntary section, but most from his time within the London Ambulance Service and within the Private sector.

The book is written in a light hearted way, it is not meant to appear a documentary or diary, that has been done already by others. Some of the stories are quite funny, some are quite sad, some are a little graphic and may churn your stomach a little, but all are very real.

Written to explain why I decided to become an ambulanceman and answering many questions that I have been frequently asked by friends and relatives over the years. The book tries to give you behind the scenes insight into the training and the work of an ambulance man. Explaining the thoughts, feelings and strong emotions that are felt while undertaking the sometimes difficult and very stressful role and how this can have long lasting effects on the staff.

Also written to make you think what you would feel, to think what actions you might take if placed in the same situations and how you would cope.

It hopefully will also make you think a little about your own personal home environment, allowing you to see your home from the perspective of an ambulanceman who is trying to assist you in your time of need, while you are ill, or in pain and discomfort.

Allowing you to ensure your home is ‘Ambulance Ready’ in case need arises.

Humour is a very important tool for Ambulance staff, it helps to relieve the stress of the job and to ease the pain felt by most of them in situations such as death, which can be very upsetting especially when it is a young child or Baby that dies. This ‘humour’ may reveal itself within the book, sometimes in situations where you would think that humour could not possibly exist. Please remember, the Humour is not meant to be making fun of anybody or of any event, it is just a way of dealing with the stresses of the situation.

Try to put yourself in his place as you read through the many experiences. Think of how you would feel when faced with each of the situations he had to deal with. How would you cope? But not just cope at the time, because

Memories can last a whole lifetime.

DEDICATION.

I would like to dedicate this book to all Ambulance Personnel past, present and future, especially to the late Brian Kelly, one of my Ambulance Training Officers in the London Ambulance Service, whose attitudes and own methods of training, despite being unconventional in the eyes of the LAS, made me into a Ambulanceman, and a good Ambulanceman at that.

I also dedicate it to my family, who put up with the long and unsociable hours of the Private sector, the permanent stress of my being on call 24 hours a day, seven days a week, every week of the year, including all holidays, even on Christmas Day. Who were forever let down with cancelled trips and outings due to a patient needing emergency hospitalisation, who were frequently abandoned mid-way around the supermarket or whilst visiting relatives and friends as a bleeper summoned response.

To a Wife who always got up regardless of the time of night when the alarm was raised, passing various pieces of uniform in the rush to get dressed and waited up for my safe return, sometimes which was not for many hours, on odd occasions even days.

I also dedicate my book to the memory of the late Marti Caine who passed away in 1995.

Actress, Dancer, Presenter, Singer, Writer,

a great Comedienne,

and a real true

Lady!

The terms of Ambulanceman, Ambulancemen etc. are used generally, and are in no way meant to be of a sexist nature, Ambulance staff are of both sexes and are equal in every respect. For the sake of privacy and to protect those concerned, some names have been changed or omitted.

THE AUTHOR.

Paul Medland was born on the 25th July 1959 in the town of Eltham, London.

Born of a Welsh Mother and an English Father, he has spent most of his life living in London and the South East of England, apart from a short stay as a child in a town called Eastlakes, Sydney, Australia.

He has been involved with Ambulances since his early teens and still at school, at first at a voluntarily level with the St. John Ambulance Brigade (London District) where starting as a Ambulance Cadet he progressed to Cadet Leader, then later as an Adult member finally reaching the high rank of District Staff Officer within the London District (Stores).

On leaving School in 1975 he began work as a Physiological Measurement Technician specialising in Audiology at the world famous Guys Hospital in London.

To gain more direct medical experience he transferred in 1979 to work as an ODO/ODA (Operating Department Assistant) in the Theatre Suite of the Brook General Hospital in Woolwich, South London.

After three years working in Theatres, he left to follow up his ambition, to become a professional Emergency Ambulanceman with the London Ambulance Service, training at the Headquarters in Waterloo. He then worked in the West-end of London at Bloomsbury Ambulance Station and the City of London at Smithfield Ambulance Station. Later being transferred back nearer home to Deptford and finally Barnehurst Stations.

In 1985 he left the NHS Ambulance Service and after a brief spell as a High Class Chauffeur to the Film and Music industry, he returned to the Ambulance field to become an Emergency Medical Technician and 2nd in command of a Private Service based just on the border of London and Kent.

He now lives in the very quiet, tranquil and picturesque Town of Welshpool in the northern part of Powys Mid-Wales, a far cry from the hustle and bustle of London life, with no more heavy traffic jams, no more fumes from car exhausts, very limited crime and violence, a more relaxed pace altogether and a much healthier environment.

No longer working as an Ambulanceman, but still ever ready for action, always armed and accompanied with his Ambulance Aid Kit just in case it is ever required. Still occasionally putting his equipment and skills to use when stumbling across Road Traffic Accidents or a collapse in the Street. Ambulances in this rural part of the world take longer to arrive due to the distances between stations.

Since moving to Wales his time has been spent performing a variety of jobs, he has worked for the Social Services Department as a manager of a Day Base supporting Adults with Learning Disabilities.

He has additionally worked as a Male Nurse at a Nursing Home when necessary to keep his head above water, and ran his own business providing Individual Personal Computer Familiarization Training.

Since 2002 he has worked with abused children with severe challenging behaviour, autism and other learning disabilities.

any spare time left over is also spent at the keyboard of the computer, trying to further master the workings of the machine and software, also writing electronic books.

Not a single day goes by without a memory of his time within the Ambulance services flashing by, not a single sighting of an Ambulance on the way to a call passes without him wishing that it was him at the wheel. It goes to show the old adage is true….

"Once an Ambulanceman,

Always an Ambulanceman".

Chapter One

WHY DID I BECOME AN AMBULANCEMAN?

There are two questions that every Ambulance Man and Woman in the Country has at one time or another asked themselves and normally quite often too. The first question is the same as the title of this chapter, the other is Why do I Stay in this job ?. Yet despite the moans and groans they will give about the job, despite getting soaking wet at the scene of a car accident, despite being covered from head to toe in blood, vomit or things even worse, despite the abuse given to them by the patient or patient’s relatives, despite the low pay which barely covers the weekly shopping bill let alone the rent or mortgage, despite the long unsociable hours of the shift work which frequently can tend to break up even the strongest of marriages, the answers to these questions are never quite decided.

But ask them to answer to a final question of Would you ever leave the service? and you would get the same answer from 99% of staff, the answer is always Maybe one day, or NO, both replies mean exactly the same. If ever they do leave, normally at some point in the not too distant they eventually return.

So why did I become a Ambulanceman ? Well for me it all started way back, during the time of Gary Glitter, his first time around that is, well as Gary Glitter anyway. The Sweet, Slade, Marc Bolan, and when Platform soles, Flares and the Denim Look were the top of fashion. When I followed Football, violence free and kissing free football, when a player would rather commit suicide than Cry on the field, when Charlton Athletic actually played at the Charlton Athletic Ground. And when my hair reached the top of my shoulders, and perhaps just a little bit further.

One evening I was cycling from my home in Welling, Kent, to my Nan’s who lived in Eltham, South East London, when I came across a serious road accident on the old A2 at Falconwood. I can remember it vividly even today, two cars had met head on, one a new Citroen and the other an old Ford Zephyr, both were leaking petrol and water and glass and bits of car were everywhere. A lady motorist sat in her car just staring at the scene, the road usually packed with traffic seemed totally deserted, as if everyone knew there would be a hold up, there were not even the usual mass of pedestrians on the way to the railway station.

I somehow felt compelled to help even though my stomach was churning, so I dropped my bike and ran over to the Citroen, the driver was slumped forward quiet and still, and it wasn’t for a few seconds I noticed a narrow piece of metal protruding from the back of his head.

The steering wheel was hanging around the base of the steering column and was wobbling from side to side. Even though I did not have any medical knowledge I knew he was dead, impaled on the column, I doubt if he even knew anything about it. In a daze I continued over to the other car and saw a middle aged man also slumped forward on the remains of his bonnet, he was at least alive, from the weird rasping noises he was making he must have been breathing, he appeared to be sick and the noises became louder and more desperate.

What do I do ? These words kept coming out of my trembling mouth, I did not know whether to slap him on the back or not, after all he seemed to be choking and that was what I had seen done in films or comedy shows on television.

I too was then violently sick.

The Police cars arrived almost unnoticed, the Ambulances too, all these men climbed over and inside the two crashed cars, after a short while some more wearing the familiar yellow helmets of the London Fire brigade also joined the scene. To me, frozen still as I was it just appeared to be a blur of movement.

Were you in the car ?, an Ambulanceman asked me, I shook my head, Are you hurt ?, another shake and another well up from inside. An enormous hand grabbed hold of me Get outt’a the way - go on push off, the gruff retort came from a large and very tactless policeman, He’s a goner too, looks like he suffocated on his own vomit, he continued. Words that will haunt me forever.

But he was alive was all I could say, over and over again. I cannot even start to explain just how helpless I felt at that moment.

That poor man had died, his wife lost her husband, his children lost their father, all because I did not know how to move his head and clear his airway. If I did, then perhaps he would still be alive today, enjoying his Family, enjoying his Friends, enjoying his life.

Week after week went by with many recurring nightmares of the accident, the sick feeling of uselessness and guilt continued.

How I wished that I was an adult, because only adults knew how to save lives!

*** *** ***

It took a trip with my Dad to Charlton Athletic to change my views on this, in fact it changed my whole attitude and way of life.

As usual I left my Dad in the terraces and wormed my way down to just behind the Goalpost, there I noticed what I originally thought to be Ball-boys. Dressed in grey shirts, black trousers and with a white lanyard under the shoulder strap and attached to the breast pocket button, they stood in the corner of the pitch, but they seemed to ignore the ball when it left the playing area. They were standing next to what appeared to be a short fat policeman, who strangely also wore a white bag over his shoulder and had a white band around his hat. I started to talk to one of the boys, people were more friendly in those days, he explained that they were from the St. John Ambulance Brigade, and after quite a long discussion he invited me to pop down one Friday night to the weekly meeting at the local school. I explained that I was not the religious type and did not go to church, he quickly reassured me that the St. John Ambulance were not like that, and that sort of stuff was left to the boys of the boys brigade.

So the following Friday with much trepidation I dug out my best pair of denims, cleaned the grit out of all of my fingernails and even put some shoe polish on my boots (Gasp!).

I walked up the high street to Welling Corner and then I stood outside the School gates for absolutely ages. Should I go in, or should I just go home and watch the telly, I asked myself time and again, after all there were some really good programmes on the telly on Friday nights.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It was the best thing I ever did, It changed my whole life and in fact my whole attitude to life. It turned out to be something I could do well, something I was willing to learn and yet wasn’t rammed down my throat like school work. It also helped a little to reduce the feeling of incapability that I had been experiencing ever since that fatal accident a few months before.

Within the first two Friday night meetings I was hooked, I had also learnt how to clear an airway and turn over an unconscious person and place them in the Recovery Position, two actions which could save a life.

After a couple of months I was the proud owner of my first certificate in first aid and a smart new Grey uniform Shirt and Black Beret too, very Frank Spencer! - I wasn’t over impressed with the White bag though, it looked too much like a handbag.

*** *** ***

I learned many other useful things and practical skills during my Cadet years too, Radio-communication Procedures, Campcraft, Survival techniques, Fire fighting, Home nursing and Casualty Simulation to name just a few. I took extra advanced courses in many subjects which led to my promotion to Cadet Leader, the highest of the cadet ranks.

I have found that the small effort put in to this training as a youngster, has paid off at my interviews for most jobs since leaving school, it has certainly carried more weight than any of my CSE examination passes.

Employers saw you as a sort of superman, capable of doing something that they and the others around them could not, and they tended to talk to you as if you could fly a plane, or change water into wine. This just goes to show how ill informed the general public was at the time, and even still can be, an attitude from lack of understanding and lack of suitable First-aid training.

ANYBODY

can clear an airway, even a four year old.

EVERYBODY

can learn to save a life.

I, like the majority of other Ambulance staff, believe that it should be taught in schools, from infant school right through to senior schools, it would be a damn sight more useful than making clay pots or playing sports in the pouring rain. Why couldn’t it be made a compulsory part of employment, it would more than quadruple the amount of First-aiders at any location.

Whatever the cause, you only have just FOUR minutes when someone stops breathing before brain damage starts, it can take all those vital minutes just to find someone with the necessary skills required to help, - if you’re lucky that is !

Just think how many people could be saved if everyone spent just a few hours at a simple first-aid course, just long enough to learn the very basics,

just long enough to learn how to clear an airway.

During my time with the St. John Ambulance Brigade, our Division held many Fetes and events in the Welling area to raise cash for uniforms and Ambulances. Each one of these was attended by a variety of Celebrities and many Display teams. The superb Metropolitan Police Motorcycle Display team were always there. They and the Army display team supported us well. The RAF, Navy and Army careers units and others of a similar nature often came along to help us fill the field, and no doubt to drum up recruits. Along with these we often had a few Police cars, Fire engines and Ambulance from one of the local stations, manned by Area Officers. It was one of these officers who convinced me that I was good enough and that the Ambulance Service would be the ideal occupation for my future years.

I originally applied for the Ambulance Cadet Scheme, a scheme which took you on at 16 years old and trained you from scratch, teaching you how to drive as well as providing medical training. I applied for consideration when I was just Fifteen ready for when I left School, but unfortunately just after my birthday they cancelled the scheme and I had to re-think my immediate future.

I wanted something in the Medical field, to give me a better background understanding for when I was old enough and could join the Ambulance service, the recruitment age had at that time been raised to Eighteen.

I was introduced to a District Staff Officer from St. John’s at the Biggin Hill Airshow, I was allocated as his radio communications operator for the day and he became quite chatty with me. I was then requested as his R/T operator for the next few days and at the end he asked me if I had lined up a job.

I took up his offer of spending a day at Guys Hospital in London to see what the job of an Audiology Technician consisted of. It was interesting and the next week I started to attend for two days a week with my Headmaster’s permission, this was well before the days of Work Experience as it is now called. Two days very quickly became Three, then Five. When I left School I had to continue to work on a Voluntary basis at the Hospital whilst awaiting a Government training grant, this training grant took well over a year to come through, and I was dying to earn some money, I wanted a Motorbike and new clothes, in that order too.

I spent Three years working for the Guys Hospital group, some of the time spent at one of its group Hospitals at New Cross and also at the now closed St. Olaves Hospital at Surrey Docks.

Not having the required HNC or ONC Qualifications, I started at the very bottom, learning a hundred times more than I really needed to, trying to prove that I was just as good as those with those fancy qualifications straight from College.

It was whilst working at Guys, that I planned to get married to my first wife and we had just set up home together in a flat above the local Chip shop, ‘she’ soon decided that the £90.00 per month I was earning was not enough to pay all the bills and keep her in a life of luxury. The Ambulance Service in the meantime had raised their entry age once again, now to twenty one, so once again I had to try a different career. I applied to all the local hospitals and was finally offered a post in the Operating Theatres at the Brook Hospital, I lost my status as a technician and became a mere Orderley.

A Theatre Orderley is the next rank up from a porter on the pay scale, but I just about earnt enough with all the overtime possible to pay the food bill along with the rent, and to keep my pride and joy on the road, my Motorbike.

It was to be another three years before I could join the London Ambulance Service, although I enjoyed my time in Theatres and learned a hell of a lot about life in general, I did not have and still do not have any regrets about leaving the operating theatres to follow my chosen career. The rest of this book may give you an idea as to why, but it is not something you can fully explain verbally, in a few lines, or even in a book for that matter.

I joined the Ambulance Service in May 1982, after a gruelling interview session and driving test in the middle of the freezing January or February and like many other Ambulance Men and Woman was divorced soon after.

It’s a fact that the Ambulance Service has the highest divorce rate per occupation, unexplainable really, but I think mostly to do with jealousy from the spouses of the crews from working in a close environment with colleagues of the opposite sex, especially when stationed alone on night work does put doubts into their minds.

You have to get on really well with your partner regardless of whether they be Male or Female, a close working team is very important to be able to do the job efficiently, you must know what the other is thinking, what the other member of the crew will want, exactly what they are going to do and how they are going to do it.

But that closeness, the ability to work with each other in very stressful and sometimes even dangerous situations, and sometimes even the ability to cry together to relieve the stress in upsetting circumstances such as the death of a child, does not mean you’re having an affair with them. I’m not saying that affairs do not happen, as in any other profession they sometimes do, but they were rare, and it certainly did not happen to me.

The interview, or should I say interviews were very thorough. My arrival at the Headquarters building in London’s Waterloo for 0730 hours was made even more difficult due to the Train strike that was in operation at the time and to make matters worse the roads were thick with snow and ice. My old Caravanette if it had been going, would have been impossible to park within a ten mile radius. My Brother-in-law at the time, picked me up in his car just after five in the morning and took me there.

we arrived at the Headquarters just in the nick of time, not even time to grab a coffee to warm up, a great start to the day.

*** *** ***

A Senior Ambulance Officer reminiscent of a thin Jimmy Edwards, complete with waxed Handlebar moustache admitted us through the door to the reception area, the building was icy cold and we were shivering like mad, I’m not sure if this had anything to do with the blizzards outside, or even the lack of suitable heating inside, I think it was mainly due more to severe nerves.

Trying to brush the snow from our suits and straightening ties, everybody was trying to recall under their breath the information the Service had posted to us a week before. We were to be tested on a pre-learned booklet on the use of Entonox Gas (Laughing Gas).

We were kept waiting until just before nine o’clock, I’m sure this was done on purpose as we were under observation by the officers concerned throughout the waiting period.

I think it was to observe how well we could communicate with each other, and how we could cope with the added stress of waiting around not knowing what was on the cards. Perhaps also to see who had the bad habits, you know the ones I mean, Nose picking or dare I say it, Smoking.

We were eventually led into a large cold classroom, sat down each two seats from the next in true school examination conditions, lined white paper and a pencil in front of us on the desk. An Officer laid down a stapled document on each desk and walked back to a chair, Begin was all he said. On turning over the paper I was faced with one of my biggest nightmares, a Mathematics test. This was soon followed by another paper on a combination of Maths and Physics, requiring working out of quantities and percentages of gasses left in a Cylinder after use at set flow rates for set time scales.

An English test followed, that was followed by a spelling test and a lengthy dictation test, finally an Oratory test, reading a few tongue twisting paragraphs out loud to the Officers present completed this stage of interview.

There was a nose picker in the group, he went in to the next stage first and I think was then immediately shown the back door as we never saw him again. The rest of us sat making polite conversation as to what varied occupations we did before applying to the London Ambulance service, desperate for, but trying not to show we were dying for a coffee and a quick cigarette.

Those originally shortlisted came from a wide variety of occupations, a lorry driver, a nurse, an army corporal, an ex Coldstream guard, a baker, a skycrane operator, and believe it or not, even a professor, all we lacked was the candlestick maker. One by one we were led into the large wood panelled hall and sat down on a very hard and upright chair facing the top table, it was the only chair on this side and looked and felt very solitary. Six officers sat facing me, heads bowed studying what looked to me like blank sheets of paper, perhaps they used invisible ink here at Headquarters, more likely it was just another ploy to make you sweat just that little bit more.

We sat like this for what seemed an eternity, occasionally catching sight of them looking you over, possibly to see if you would possibly fit one of their available uniforms ?

Name, bellowed the officer with the handlebars, with a lump in my throat I managed to emit a small squeak,

Medland Sir, again there seemed to be the eternal deathly silence, where they even breathing?

Why ?, another officer said. The pause was so long I almost felt like retorting because that was the name I was given at birth, but I’m glad now that I didn’t, as then just in time, he continued with his question, - Why do you want to join and become an Ambulanceman ?, - Gulp !.

After about twenty minutes the interview was over, or that was what I thought at the time, I was shown out of another door. This is it I thought, I’m on my way back to the street!. I was wrong, I was led along a corridor adjacent to the waiting area and introduced, or should I say handed over, to another