Mary and her family stopped in to say "hi" and to drop off a card of thanks. Last November we had a great time stopping by their house for Mary's 7th birthday.
Now that's not something we usually do, visit someone on their birthday. But Mary is kind of a special case.
Allow me to explain...
Seven years ago we delivered Mary. In the back of the ambulance.
The 9-1-1 call came in late in the evening (I don't remember the exact time, but it was before midnight) and we were dispatched for "a woman in labor." This is not as exciting as you might think. It's not at all unusual for a minor communications breakdown (you hear the Led Zeppelin riffs now, don't you?) in between the caller, the dispatch center and the broadcast to us. Think about the childhood game of "Telephone" and you get the idea. A nervous caller sometimes either doesn't relay the information accurately or details sometimes get overlooked or relaying info to a coworker at dispatch so we can get rolling while the call taker gathers more information and you can see how this can happen. So, when we get a call of this nature it's often taken with a grain of salt. That doesn't have any effect on our response however, you still have to act like everything you hear is accurate. But more often than not, it's a false alarm.
We arrived at the address, just a few blocks from the firehouse, and were met at the door, by Jim, the husband. I don't recall him being particularly anxious ( a good sign) as he told us his wife was on the floor in the upstairs bathroom. We went in and climbed the stairs and as I walked in to the bathroom, I met Anne.
On the floor.
In active labor.
Gulp.
Her water had broken and she was in mid-contraction. I checked for crowning, a sign of imminent delivery where the top of the baby's head starts to appear, and thankfully saw none. I asked her how long the contraction had been and how far apart they were and from her answers, we knew we didn't have a lot of time to dally. One of the guys went down to the ambulance to grab a device called the body splint that we use to haul people up or down stairs, similar to a backboard but more... engulfing. As we loaded Anne onto the body splint she started another contraction. We worked on her breathing, waited till it passed, and carried her downstairs to the cot and on into the back of the ambulance. As we loaded her in, another contraction started. Now, because I was the passenger in the ambulance on this particular day, my assignments included playing "catcher".
Lucky me.
While this was going on we (I'm going to switch back-and-forth between pronouns here because, frankly, I don't remember who did what at this point) got out the OB kit and got that prepped while my partner started an IV on Anne.
Because this time, when I checked for crowning, I saw a head.
Again, gulp.
We started toward the hospital, typically about a 7 or 8 minute trip from where we were, hoping to beat the stork to the ER. But, as we crossed the railroad tracks a minute or two later, Mary decided she had had enough and was ready to make her debut into the world.
Now, as part of my (read every paramedic, everywhere) training, I spent time in the hospital's Labor & Delivery department, and took part (a small part) in a few births there. I was also in the room when my kids were born. I even delivered a baby in the field in my first year on the job here. But those were a loooong time ago. We do have semi-regular training on pregnancy and delivery in the field, including potential complications. And, one of the things we are taught is to prepare for an "explosive birth".
I had no idea that was literal.
Until I literally caught Mary.
It seems that, since she decided she was ready, she didn't want to waste any time in the whole delivery portion of our program. I caught her cleanly though (yay me!) and started to dry her off and wrap her to hold in her body heat and passed her up for Anne to hold. The remaining few minutes of the transport to the Emergency Department, where we were met by a crew from Labor & Delivery and escorted right up to the birthing suite was, thankfully, unremarkable. I always joke that at least Mary knew what she was doing. One of the things that did get my attention though was that her cry was SOOO soft. It kind of startled me at the time. I found out later though, from talking to the L&D nurses, that it was more normal than I'd thought.
That started our (my) relationship with Jim, Anne, Mary, Elizabeth, Jimmy and the rest of the family. It's been pretty cool I must say, and I consider myself very fortunate to be able to remain in contact with the family. Too many times in this job despite doing everything well; the proper training, the right medications, the right procedures, in the right sequence, at the right time, we have a poor outcome. To be able to randomly run into the family somewhere in town or at a special event where they've chosen to include me just reinforces how cool that day was.
Seven years ago we delivered Mary. In the back of the ambulance.
The 9-1-1 call came in late in the evening (I don't remember the exact time, but it was before midnight) and we were dispatched for "a woman in labor." This is not as exciting as you might think. It's not at all unusual for a minor communications breakdown (you hear the Led Zeppelin riffs now, don't you?) in between the caller, the dispatch center and the broadcast to us. Think about the childhood game of "Telephone" and you get the idea. A nervous caller sometimes either doesn't relay the information accurately or details sometimes get overlooked or relaying info to a coworker at dispatch so we can get rolling while the call taker gathers more information and you can see how this can happen. So, when we get a call of this nature it's often taken with a grain of salt. That doesn't have any effect on our response however, you still have to act like everything you hear is accurate. But more often than not, it's a false alarm.
We arrived at the address, just a few blocks from the firehouse, and were met at the door, by Jim, the husband. I don't recall him being particularly anxious ( a good sign) as he told us his wife was on the floor in the upstairs bathroom. We went in and climbed the stairs and as I walked in to the bathroom, I met Anne.
On the floor.
In active labor.
Gulp.
Her water had broken and she was in mid-contraction. I checked for crowning, a sign of imminent delivery where the top of the baby's head starts to appear, and thankfully saw none. I asked her how long the contraction had been and how far apart they were and from her answers, we knew we didn't have a lot of time to dally. One of the guys went down to the ambulance to grab a device called the body splint that we use to haul people up or down stairs, similar to a backboard but more... engulfing. As we loaded Anne onto the body splint she started another contraction. We worked on her breathing, waited till it passed, and carried her downstairs to the cot and on into the back of the ambulance. As we loaded her in, another contraction started. Now, because I was the passenger in the ambulance on this particular day, my assignments included playing "catcher".
Lucky me.
While this was going on we (I'm going to switch back-and-forth between pronouns here because, frankly, I don't remember who did what at this point) got out the OB kit and got that prepped while my partner started an IV on Anne.
Because this time, when I checked for crowning, I saw a head.
Again, gulp.
We started toward the hospital, typically about a 7 or 8 minute trip from where we were, hoping to beat the stork to the ER. But, as we crossed the railroad tracks a minute or two later, Mary decided she had had enough and was ready to make her debut into the world.
Now, as part of my (read every paramedic, everywhere) training, I spent time in the hospital's Labor & Delivery department, and took part (a small part) in a few births there. I was also in the room when my kids were born. I even delivered a baby in the field in my first year on the job here. But those were a loooong time ago. We do have semi-regular training on pregnancy and delivery in the field, including potential complications. And, one of the things we are taught is to prepare for an "explosive birth".
I had no idea that was literal.
Until I literally caught Mary.
It seems that, since she decided she was ready, she didn't want to waste any time in the whole delivery portion of our program. I caught her cleanly though (yay me!) and started to dry her off and wrap her to hold in her body heat and passed her up for Anne to hold. The remaining few minutes of the transport to the Emergency Department, where we were met by a crew from Labor & Delivery and escorted right up to the birthing suite was, thankfully, unremarkable. I always joke that at least Mary knew what she was doing. One of the things that did get my attention though was that her cry was SOOO soft. It kind of startled me at the time. I found out later though, from talking to the L&D nurses, that it was more normal than I'd thought.
That started our (my) relationship with Jim, Anne, Mary, Elizabeth, Jimmy and the rest of the family. It's been pretty cool I must say, and I consider myself very fortunate to be able to remain in contact with the family. Too many times in this job despite doing everything well; the proper training, the right medications, the right procedures, in the right sequence, at the right time, we have a poor outcome. To be able to randomly run into the family somewhere in town or at a special event where they've chosen to include me just reinforces how cool that day was.
Here's a picture from last summer at one of those "randomly run into" things. Mary and two of the guys that helped deliver her, mugging for the camera. These days always make me smile. The "thank you" card Mary gave me from her birthday party does too. I don't have it with me as I write this, I left it at home, but I'll do my best to paraphrase her closing...
"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here"
That may a bit of a stretch, like I said, Mary knew what to do, lol. But it was so sweet. And so was the book full of pictures from the party. Mary, I may have been in the back of the ambulance when you were born, but sometimes, when I look back on that day, it's you that brings life to me.
Peace
Love the happy stories of the job! BTW, the "Firefighters for Labor" sidebar is just too funny.
ReplyDeleteThanks Marie, that's my oldest grandson from 2011. We went up to Madison to take part in a protest against Gov. Walker's anti-worker legislation.
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