The telephone game played out in real life

Well, that month just flew by.

Apparently whatever secret muse it is that controls the writing portion of my brain left town, cause I really haven't had much to consider sharing here.  Meh, it happens, you know?

In the mean time, not much has gone on for the last month.  A family birthday (s/o to the Quiet Child), some softball games for the Reigning Princess, a new crop of new guys at work (there's promise for future material there) and, tomorrow, another birthday, this one for the Great Vincenzo and there's DEFINITE potential for material there.

Just sayin...

So, if you come by here regularly you may recall my retelling of the last in-ambulance birth I was a part of (brief editorial note: When did people become incapable of telling the difference between "a part" and "apart"?  They are distinctly different, people! C'mon, pick up your social media game would ya?) and I referenced how, often times the information gets lost between what happened, the caller, dispatch and us.  And again, I'm not throwing stones at anyone in that chain, stuff happens, adrenaline gets pumping or there's some minute miscommunication that throws the whole thing off kilter.

Sometimes, however, it's easy to identify the weak link in the telecommunication flowchart that is inherent in one of our emergency responses.

Like, for instance, yesterday.

In the typical swirl of activity that takes place between lunch and dinner at the firehouse, we had a brief calm yesterday afternoon.  Our Lieutenant was going over some things with our current new guy, the guys on Fightin' Medic 3 had just gotten back from another life-or-death emergency and I was left to my own devices.

The tones went off and we were dispatched to a "partial roof collapse of a building with a person trapped under debris."  The dispatch included our Station, Truck 2, the Battalion Chief and the Safety Officer, a typical response for this type of incident.  Now, this is not a common call for us to respond to.  But as we rolled into action (conjures up a very heroic image, no?) all the thoughts were going through our heads of what we might possibly encounter.  I knew the building we were being sent to, it once housed a motorcycle dealership, and has been vacant for quite some time.  I hadn't driven past it for a while, but the thought that some construction or renovation for potential new tenants was going on made sense to me, so in that respect nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  When we were around two blocks away our Safety guy requested PD to block off the street in front of the address.  This also made sense to me since it could quickly escalate into a big deal, a large scale incident and quite frankly, it wouldn't have surprised me if someone had activated a Technical Rescue response.  I anticipated also some type of update from our PD once they got on scene since they always beat us to larger incidents.  They are, after all, already out on the street and they get the information almost simultaneously to us.  But I didn't hear anything from the coppers.  We were directed however to enter through the overhead doors and as we pulled onto the scene I saw an open overhead door on the west side of the building and drove to it.  I also saw marker ribbon around the perimeter of the roof, indicating some type of work on the roof of the building and squaring, in my brain at least, the increased potential for collapse.  We looked in from the cab of the engine and saw nothing to suggest a collapse had occurred.  This immediately kicked in the "what did we miss?" response in our collective brains and we agreed to check the next building down since that business was mentioned in the dispatch.  I backed away from the building and as I pulled past it the three of us looked through the front windows trying to see some indication of collapse.  We saw none and I drove around the corner to check the next building.

The occupants there were looking back at us, probably wondering what the commotion was all about.

I drove back to our original position by the overhead door and we went in to investigate.  The Lt. and our new guy went straight in and I peeled off to the right.  I noticed several interior walls were still in place, so I thought the collapse must have happened somewhere that was shielded from our view by those walls.

As I made my way toward the front of the building I heard a voice calling out feebly "I'm over here" and started heading in the direction of the voice.  I was looking for some sign of collapse the whole time, since I would've done no good for anyone if I got trapped too.  As I walked to the front there was a row of small offices on my right, formerly sales offices I think.  And, as I got to the last one I heard the voice say "they're here now, ok, thanks" and as I looked in to the last office I saw our patient lying on the floor with one leg bent underneath him.

And four acoustic ceiling tiles on top of him.

Yes, that's right.

You know them.  Two feet by two feet square and about a half inch thick.  Each one weighs roughly twelve ounces.  You may have them in your home or place of business.

Acoustic.  Ceiling.  Tiles.

And, as I looked up to the ceiling I saw the underside of a completely intact roof about three feet above the dropped ceiling he had been trying to remove when the ceiling tiles let loose and landed on him.

All four of them.

I pulled the tiles off him and asked where he hurt.  His response?

"I've got dust in my eyes."

Now, I have to admit right here that, in the past, I haven't always been as sensitive to what others might find offensive and have used terms that I'm not particularly proud of when describing certain individuals.  But, I think I've made great strides in this attempt at self-improvement.  I am, however, still exercising great restraint when it comes to what I desperately want to say in describing my feelings toward this individual.  Let's just say that, in my personal opinion, this was perhaps the single-most inappropriate use of emergency resources in quite some time.  Possibly in my entire career.

And there have been some doozies.

So, as it turns out, our "patient" was using a piece of the aluminum framing or track that the tiles rest in to pull the ceiling tiles down.  And this action caused them to, of course, fall down.  And gravity being what it is, they fell straight down on top of our plucky little survivor.

You've got to watch out for gravity, it'll get you every time.

There you have it, a perfect example of the single weak-link in the communication chain that leads up to a 9-1-1 dispatch.  And the difference between what is perception and what is reality.  Kinda helps illustrate why we try to take our dispatches with a grain of salt.  And why we sometimes don't, even when we should, lol.

Oh, I almost forgot my favorite part.  As the guys on the ambulance started assessing his "injuries" I heard him mention to them that he was (or *shudder* is) a firefighter.

Sigh.

Peace