Saturday 17 December 2011

She's gonna blow

"Running call, 17 year old male, unknown problem, ? unconscious"

It's 2am, it's cold, it's busy. We are on route to an assault; the road was empty and dark with only our blue lights to illuminate the high street. Just ahead we see an FRU at the roadside. We pass him giving the obligatory whoop of the sirens. About 30 seconds later we were cancelled for a higher priority. It transpires the FRU has been flagged down and has requested a truck. We swing the truck around and head back. Lying outside a pub in a lifeless lump on the floor is our patient. The FRU wanders over to us and explained that our patient has been drinking all night with friends, came outside the pub and collapsed to the floor. It appears the old 'fresh air' effect had claimed yet another victim.

This kid was seriously drunk; he wasn't unconscious but also couldn't form a sentence. Every question I asked got the same response.

"What's your name?"


"And your surname?"


"Whereabouts do you live?"


"Who's you next of kin?"


"And who is your GP?"


"Are you allergic to anything?"


Well that cleared all that up. Nothing like a clear and concise history! My crew mate who had gone to sit up front was crying with silent laughter! We did all his observations and there was nothing untoward. He was just another alcohol related A & E admission statistic. In our defence we spent a good half an hour trying to sober him up in the hope we could take him home but alas, he was seriously drunk! He was accompanied by 3 friends, all of whom appeared shocked that he could be so drunk when they appeared so sober. We loaded them onto the truck to and headed off to hospital. 

We entered A & E to a sea of green. There were 5 crews with their patients waiting in the corridor to hand over and moments after our arrival a further 2 crews arrived. In one small corridor there were 8 crews, 8 patients and 14 friends and relatives. Our patient was still out of it so his friends were chatting between themselves, sat next to other patients and relatives. We were chatting to another local crew about the night so far, regaling tails of drunkenness and heroism! 

I looked over at the friends and one of them put their hands over their mouth and appeared to hiccup / burp which sounded like the gargle of a drain. I recognised that noise. She was about to blow. A purple liquid seeped between her fingers and a look of horror appeared across her face. It was about to happen and it was about to happen now. Like Mt. Etna erupting in all her glory, our patient's friend exploded. However, she didn't move her hands so the full force of her projectile vomiting came out either side. And boy was it projectile. The problem was she vomited on the guy next to her, and not just a splash, a full facial spray. This poor guy was there because he had been punched in the face and had a broken nose. He now had a regurgitated concoction of Cheeky Vimto and red wine which smelt foul! Everyone in the corridor was gagging. Like Moses and the parting of the waves, an exclusion zone was created around the chucker. Wave after wave of purple, lumpy vomit came. Eventually she got up and went to the toilet. We were left cleaning up the people she had soiled whilst trying to stop crying with laughter. 

I think the reason we were laughing so much was the sense of achievement. None of us had a drop on us, but every patient and relative on the bench was covered, it made a nice change. The whole situation epitomised a weekend in the city; an alcohol fuelled mess. When will these kids learn? I think the difference between them and me when I was that age wasn't the alcohol consumption and getting paralytic, it was the fact that I didn't need an ambulance or a hospital corridor to pepper with vomit.


  1. Maybe this should happen more often. Might make people think a bit and be more responsible. Probably not.

  2. Argghhh that's my worst nightmare. Serious vomit phobia. I would have been running far, far away from that Exorcist type scene!


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