The curse has been broken

 I believe that the curse has been broken. I actually went on a real patient call last night. I didn’t think it was going to happen. I was so excited, I did a ‘Superman in the phone booth’ change from my pajamas into my flightsuit. It was pretty impressive, actually. Wish I had a video of it complete with a timestamp. I madly rushed to the aircraft like some whirlwind (I briefly rustled the pilot’s hair, I think). I was so excited that I was in my belt, with my headset on, grinning like a Cheshire cat two seconds after I secured the door. Have you ever been so excited that you are shaking with joy, but have to restrain yourself from whooping loudly and jumping like an ant on a hot skillet? Okay, I have never actually seen an ant on a hot skillet, but you get the idea.

Wow! We’re actually in the air to go and pick up a patient!!!!

The skies were eerily beautiful the way the half moon threw light on top of the clouds and gave them a shadowy Halloween orange glow. The weather was clear and the humming of the engines is almost hypnotic in their steady whirring. Peaceful . . . tranquil . . . soul-soothing . . . Yes, I love my job! This is one of the many reasons why.

Breaking my nostalgia, I hear a somewhat staticky voice ask me something . . . somewhere . . . Oh, it’s not in my head. It’s my partner on the comm system and he’s . . . oh yeah . . . the patient . . .

It’s a young girl who is 29-weeks pregnant and is being transferred to a facility with physicians who can deal with her issues. Wait!!!! A what? A pregnant person? A girl? I mean, of course, a girl, but . . . uh, great! An obstetrics call! Ugh! My least favorite. Not my expertise. Uhm! Oh-kay! At this point, we know nothing. We know she’s 29-weeks pregnant and she is ‘sick’ enough to be transferred by air, apparently.

Oh great!!!!

Then my partner says, ‘well, if she delivers in the air, I can deal with a 24-weeker. You can take the mom.’

What? What????? Did he honestly say that???? He has lost his mind!!!

My response, of course, was (with great emphasis bordering on hysterics, I might add), ‘We need to get orders to stop any contractions and ask for sedation. We have to be very specific about the tocolytic (drug that stops contractions) and we make sure that we can get orders for pain control and, most importantly, some sedation should the patient need it because sometimes they do become quite anxious during flight and we don’t need a hysterical patient on board.’

I delivered that in one breath, of course, using my calm and collected voice befitting a crew chief, but refrained with difficulty to say, “damn it!” at the end of my speech. Hey, I was training my partner, ok?

Anyway, I got my heart rate almost to chest pain level and my blood pressure up to stroke parameters for nothing. Reminds me of a quote by Mark Twain: “I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened.” Sometimes our fears get ahead of us, but I guess you gotta prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Yeah, yeah! The patient never had contractions and was being transferred for “evaluation.” Well, then.

You know, I shouldn’t complain. I wanted a patient and I got one. So there!

As we approached San Francisco International Airport, the lights of the city, on the Golden Gate bridge, on all the bridges, the bay . . . it was all worth it.

Yeah . . . I think I’ll do this again. I must have done something right in my life to be rewarded with a job like this.