The call is coming from inside the ER! That’s funny. Usually, we drop them off here, but it’s not unheard of. Typically, it’s the elderly who need a ride back to their nursing home and some light monitoring along the way. It could also be a 5150 who got picked up off the streets, destined to a mental health facility for a 72-hour hold before they get dumped back out on the asphalt without so much as a “see you in a few days”. Either way, it should be a pretty boring, run-of-the-mill trip.

You’ll guide the gurney through the hospital doors and immediately hear the howling. You’ll see what is clearly a pissed off physician at the end of the hallway and turn to your partner.

“There’s no way that’s not our guy.”

It’s his turn to drive while you administer care, so it’s your turn to get the report from Doc while ol’ boy takes initial vitals and interviews the patient. You can hear the thrashing and see the shitty tattoos while you listen.

“Bedbound… severe obesity… fibromyalgia from chronic opioid use… He came in looking for more… He’s been… difficult….”

“Thanks a lot, Purdue Pharma. Hurt people hurt people.”

Otherwise, it should be pretty chill. He just can’t get home on his own. Think of it as a slightly more medically inclined taxi run. That is until your partner comes out and you realize that this will probably be less enjoyable than una pequeñita abuelita de Tijuana assuring you.

“Mi angelita, usted tiene dolor?”

“No mi amor, no tengo dolor.”

That is someone’s grandmother. Act accordingly. And… somehow… this is someone’s grandson. Once again… act accordingly. You’ll have to restrain him because he keeps swinging around on the gurney. Guy is heavy. A fall from this height would be… less than ideal. His BP is high but within “normal” limits. He probably is hurting pretty bad, but the doctor is signing off on his release. Percs, Oxys, you can’t remember what it was, but he wants them bad. He’s getting nasty as you help to load him up on the rig and get him hooked up to your equipment. Sure, society has clearly failed you at every possible turn, but that’s no reason to be rude now, is it? At least he doesn’t live far from the hospital.

You’ll try to keep him distracted, to change the subject, but he’s just not having it. He wants you to have a magic wand to wave, to take him back to the ER, and get the good doctor to hand over the goods. Then he’ll start to glaze over. He’ll start shaking, foaming at the mouth, and vomiting.

You’ll grab the section unit and shout forward.

“We might wanna turn around!”

Your partner will turn back and with a quick “Oh shit!” throw on lights and sirens. The world’s worst milkshake will slowly build up in your suction receptacle. In just a few minutes you’ll be pulling back into the ambulance bay as old buddy comes to. The back doors will swing open.

“Did you call in a radio report?!”
“I’ve been a little fuckin’ busy!”

Your partner’ll go quiet when he sees your uniform and the state of your workspace. Not today pal. Not. Today.

That “you’ve gotta be kidding me” look will wash over the doctor’s face as you roll right back in. Patient is coming back into consciousness but is clearly in no position to just get dumped off in his bed. You’ll give your report to the doctor, but he won’t be happy about it. He’ll want to blame you but know you’re pretty much bulletproof at this point.

And then you and your buddy will sanitize yourselves and your gear, drive on your merry way back to the station, and finish out your shift making peanut butter sandwiches for diabetics or whatever else happened that day.

It won’t be the first or last major scene you’ll ever respond to, but the hilarity will ensue a couple of weeks later when your boss brings you into his office and asks you about the call. You’ll say what happened and be met with a “Yeah that’s what Jay said”. The patient in question was suing the house. Nothing will come of it, just the legal equivalent of throwing up a prayer, but you’ll have a good laugh about it when you partner up again.

Just another day washing the rig through aviator shades surrounded by palm trees with a million dollar view of the Pacific Ocean. I mean, can you even consider yourself a medical professional until they come looking for your patch and your stethoscope?