…continued from the other day…
So I gave Bubba some aspirin, Vicki chilled the hell out, and we moved Bubba outside near the garage. Mainly to keep everyone away, but also to make it easier on the first responders.
Stairs and all, you know.
So the responders arrive, first the big red truck, followed by the small red truck, and then, a few minutes later, the ambulance. It was at this point that Bubba asked a very poignant, pertinent question, which I will save for tomorrow’s post.
These guys are doing the whole ALS thing to him. The guys in the small red truck leave seem anxious to leave, but the guys from the big red truck have their cardiac monitor, so they can’t go just yet.
Bubba’s getting a 12-lead.
One of the guys from the small red truck is looking at it, and he turns to one of the guys from the ambulance and says “looks like a real slow sinus brady with a real long first-degree block.”
“Hmmmm” says the ambulance man.
Mind you, I took Bubba’s pulse several minutes ago, and it was in the 80s. Bubba doesn’t look like a guy would have a “real slow sinus brady.”
“Can I see that real quick?” I ask.
One of the guys from the big red truck looks at me quizzically, as if to say “what the hell does this strange fellow want to see the EKG for?” but the ambulance guy hands it over to me, as they start to move Bubba onto the stretcher.
It’s pretty clear that it isn’t a sinus brady at all. And there isn’t a first-degree block anywhere.
I hand it back to the ambulance man. “That rate is somewhere near 80, and there isn’t a first-degree block.”
Before the ambulance man and the man from the small red truck can lecture me on how they know how to read an EKG, and I’m just some doofus with a party hat, I point out the answer printed right there on their paper.
“Your printer speed is set to fifty.”
He looks like I just explained string theory.
“Normal is twenty-five.”