My friend Lilly

Lilly* has schizophrenia. As if that isn’t enough, she was also born early, to a cocaine-addicted mother, with hydrocephalus. She also has bi-polar disorder, diabetes, and is legally blind. Her growth was severely stunted by all of her problems, and even though she is in her mid thirties, she is barely 4 feet tall. Lilly’s mother and her crack-dealing boyfriends abused her as a child.

Lilly’s aunt “takes care” of her. What she actually does is provide a place for Lilly to live. Auntie tries, and she tries hard. But she can’t do it. Auntie says Lilly is family, and family takes care of family. Auntie makes sure Lilly gets all of her medications every day, and makes sure she is well-fed and clothed.

Auntie doesn’t have much. She lives on a paltry disability check she gets, and her son contributes some of his earnings he makes selling drugs in the neighborhood. I can’t imagine how they manage to eat, much less afford their home. Auntie inherited the home from her mother when she died a few years ago, and somehow makes the mortgage payment.

Lilly doesn’t want for love. Her cousin, her Auntie, their extended family, and even the neighbors all care about Lilly. But Lilly is sick.

Lilly has psychotic breaks about three times a week, and has been for several years. She throws things in the house, punches walls, scratches cars with keys, screams, swings at people, and does all the things to be expected.

She can’t help it.

So the police go to the scene to make sure she doesn’t physically hurt anyone, and to try to stop Lilly from causing more property damage. They don’t arrest her, because she doesn’t need to be arrested. They call for an ambulance, because she needs mental help, and there is no such thing as a mental health house call where Lilly is. The call for the ambulance invariably triggers a call for a fire crew in their engine.

But the loud noise from the engine makes Lilly agitated, and the crew doesn’t really know what to do. They just know they aren’t needed there, but they have to be there until we can get there.

So we show up, and we spend the next thirty minutes doing everything we can to talk Lilly down.

I like Lilly, and I would like to think she feels the same way about me. We have a routine: I kneel down and remove my sunglasses so we can make eye contact, I touch her shoulder and introduce myself, and she screams at me. I tell her that I am here to take her away from what is making her upset, so she can go talk to someone if she wants to, or so she can be alone for a little while.

Lilly always agrees. Sometimes it takes longer to talk with her, but she always agrees.

Then we take her to the hospital her Auntie chooses, since Auntie has power of attorney.

The hospital staff is incredibly nice to her. They all say hello, and they smile. They allow her to keep her clothes on, and they give her a soda and saltine crackers.

Sometimes, a physician will sign an involuntary hold order, and Lilly has to go to an inpatient center for several days. But that doesn’t fix the problem.

I really don’t know what Lilly needs. I think she needs a nursing home of some sort, or at least an assisted-living facility. But I don’t know how that would help.

I just know the current situation isn’t working.

Poor Lilly is a horrible victim of a horrible situation, and she can’t help it.

 

*Not her real name, of course.

That duck can pull a truck

The call is for a middle-aged man with “altered mental status not breathing normally.” I’m responding with the ambulance crew and a fire crew to the apartment complex address listed on the MDT.

I arrive on scene as the ambulance crew is making their way inside. I know the medic fairly well. He did all of his intern rides with Slimm and I, and he is good at his job. I know he won’t need me, but I would like to see him working on his own. The fire crew has been there several minutes.

I walk in to see the fire crew taping down an IV in the patient’s arm. “It’s a white-out, C” says Ashley the medic, with his thick drawl. “Suggah is thutty.”

(Think Kevin Bacon in JFK. Not Costner, because his attempt at a southern accent was piss-poor.)

I see Ashley and his partner spiking a bag of saline while a fire crew member is reaching into his bag for the D50.

“Hey, b’fore y’all go ‘head and push that dee-fifty, let’s mix it up in this bag right here.”

“But he needs the sugar. His glucose is really-”

“I know, I know, but we should mix it up in this right here bag instead’a givin’ it straight in the vein.”

“That doesn’t make any sense-”

“Look, now. If I tell you that duck can pull a truck, then hook that duck up! Lemme show ya’ ” Ashley replies, grabbing the syringe, attaching a needle, and mixing it into the bag of saline.

“Now, what we got here is dee-ten. It’ll wake’em up just tha same, but it’s just less shockin’ to tha system” he explains.

I know exactly what he is doing, because that is my preferred method of dextrose administration.

The patient wakes up quickly, and I glance at the bag. About 100ml are in so far. Somebody repeats the glucose stick. “Eighty-nine.”

“Now see, he’s had a hunnid of dee-ten, and he’s already awake. Ain’t that suggah better’n givin’ tha whole amp and jackin’ it up to tha three hunnids?”

Apparently, when a Southerner tells you that a duck can pull a truck, you are supposed to shut up and hook that duck up.

Learn something every day.

First things first

I’m responding to assist on what was dispatched as a “possible overdose.” Really, I’m just bored, and this sounds like it might be slightly amusing.

I arrive shortly after the ambulance, and make my way into the decrepit house. I overhear the medic talking with someone in the house. This seems to be a regular occurrence at this home.

Around the corner I find the other medic fiddling on the ground next to an unconscious person. The monitor is on the floor, and off. The jump bag is on the floor, not open.

The medic on the floor has a tourniquet around the patient’s arm, patting the antecubital.

The patient is an interesting shade of blue. And I don’t see chest rise.

“Hey, maybe we should grab that airway first, and bag this dude or something” I suggest.

“Thanks, man. We got this.”

Yet somehow, I’m the asshole.

Disaster averted

Admittedly, the portion of paramedic school that covered the care of the newborn was short. We didn’t learn much aside from managing either a perfectly normal baby, or a baby that was terribly abnormal.

A friend of mine was relating a story recently. He was telling me about a call he ran that morning in which a mother delivered a baby at home. Apparently the mother wanted a home birth, but the HMO’s obstetrician insisted the baby be transported to the hospital after delivery, going so far as calling 911 for the new parents.

My friend Jeff* was explaining that he arrived a few minutes after the local first responders, and walked into the house about 5 minutes after they did. The first responders apparently cheated by having a station less than half a block away from the house, and also cheated by having their vehicle parked outside, doing their morning truck check-off when the call came in.

Jeff was saying he walked into the house to find a first responder putting the finishing touches on an IV that they had established on the baby. The IV that was established before any vitals were obtained. With the exception of a heelstick glucose.

He mentioned that the baby appeared “completely normal and content.” The parents had already given the baby a cursory bath, and clamped and cut the umbilical cord. The baby was born about 15 minutes before Jeff walked in. The baby was full-term, but had not begun feeding yet.

He didn’t say what the cord was clamped with, and I should have asked.

Another first responder on scene was holding an ampule of dextrose. Not D5 or D10. Not even D25.

D50.

The baby’s heelstick glucose was 49.

They were about to administer, according to Jeff, “half an amp of D50 through a 24 gauge IV of saline.” Until they were stopped by my friend.

The first responder who was about to administer the dextrose had recently finished paramedic school. One would think he would know better, but he wasn’t taught.

Who is responsible for errors when the paramedics that we put on the street ‘don’t know what they don’t know?’

 

*Not his real name, of course.

A comment from Flash Larry on “Who is the customer / You make the call”

So Flash Larry blew up my blog, again, with one of his comments. Really though, I appreciate your comments, Flash. Ladies and gentlemen, I have a notion that Flash is more knowledgeable than most of us could hope to be.

My previous post questioned what the correct action would be when an EMS unit is told by a healthcare provider and a company policy to transport a patient to a certain hospital, and what the consequences of transporting that patient to a hospital that is not equipped to handle the specific problem. In this instance, interventional cardiology.

I have pieced together Flash’s reply, and added my comments as well.

He begins:

 The issue here is one of informed consent. In my state, a patient has the absolute right to be transported to the facility of his choice with one exception.

 This is always a good topic, the one of “informed consent.” What exactly is “informed consent?” Are we to inform each patient each time we establish an IV that there is the risk of catheter shear, which could cause an embolism? Are we to inform the patient, or family member, each time we administer dextrose that there is the risk of infiltration, which could cause tissue necrosis and the possibility of loss of the affected limb? I think that might be going a little too far.

I do not think informing the patient of their current medical problem and the care that is necessary is going too far. We get into that in just a little bit. Stand by.

 The exception, which bears discussion: The regulations state that if the EMS service medical director has established a “reasonable distance” for transports that the medical director can override the patient’s wishes if the patient wants to go further than the “reasonable distance.” The intent of the regulation was to prevent a patient from demanding transport to a distant city. It is my understanding that the medical directors of some services are establishing “reasonable distances” that insure that patients go to particular hospitals of their choice. The matter has not yet been litigated but at some point, it will be and then a jury will determine what constitutes a reasonable distance. That will be interesting both in the courtroom and in the newspapers.

 Flash answered my question before I had time to ask it: Just how far is a “reasonable distance?”

My company has a policy that states, in essence, we will transport a patient to any hospital in a county that is contiguous with ours. And that seems reasonable. In the previous scenario, Roundthecorner Medical Center and St. Elsewhere are in two contiguous counties.

I once worked in a city in which ambulance service was provided by two privately owned hospitals. The hospitals and EMS services got along very well, because they had the patient’s best interest in mind. While I worked for both services at the same time, it was routine to transport patients to the hospital of their choice, regardless of what was on the side of my ambulance. “Which hospital would you like to go to?” became a staple question during my assessments.

 I don’t know what the laws are in your states but here it appears that the ambulance service rule is denying the patient the right to informed consent, which is actionable at law in several ways. As all of you know, patient consent is required before you treat them. Under the law of my state, if a mentally functioning patient is informed as to what you’re doing and doesn’t express opposition, then consent is presumed (this arose out of a patient who did not expressly consent but did not object to care and then turned around and sued for failure to obtain consent. The appellate courts ruled that the plaintiff should have expressed opposition at the time of care rather than suing later).

 Frankly, I do not know the specific laws in my state, but I will be a good little blogger and go research them.

When the word “actionable” is used, I have to ask “actionable against whom?” As far as I can tell, it is my duty to provide the informed consent, and I am responsible if my actions violate the law, regardless of company policy. If my company policy requires that I physically touch each and every patient, yet I physically touch a patient who has refused my touching, then I have commited battery, and no company policy is going to provide me coverage in a court of law.

A far-fetched scenario, I know.

However, the second part of consent is that it must be informed. The patient must be informed of his condition and risks of treatment. Therefore any rule that states otherwise is contrary to law.

Therefore, this patient should be informed that his EKG shows what may be an imminently serious cardiac condition that is usually effectively treated by a particular procedure, be told what the different facilities can and cannot do, what your recommendation is and what you’d do with another patient in the same condition for whom you had not received specific orders. It is not necessary to tell him that they screwed up the 12-lead but that yours shows something different than what they got when they took it and things might have changed (they do, actually).

The patient is then able to make his own informed choice as to where he should go.

It’s not necessary to suggest, then or later, that the transferring facility made any errors. The most important thing is that your documentation supports your decision.

 The hospital in question, Roundthecorner Medical Center, can perform cardiac catheterization, but cannot perform interventional cardiology. Most often what happens when they perform a catheterization in which a stent is needed, is that the hospital will place an intra-aortic balloon pump, then have the patient transferred to a hospital that is capable of PCI.

While it is not necessarily my purview, I can’t help but wonder if RMC informs those patients “Hey, we couldn’t fix this problem when you came in the door, and we knew that, but we decided to ‘take a look’ anyway. Now we have to put this complicated piece of equipment in your aorta to help your heart pump, wait on a receiving facility to actually accept you, and wait on an equipped, knowledgeable ambulance crew to come transfer you. Sorry we didn’t send you there sooner.”

Whenever I am handed paperwork from any healthcare facility, I look at it, and make not of what they found. I always perform my own tests because, as you say, things change. Things change frequently and often.

 If you do not proceed in terms of informed consent, you and your company (under the doctrine of respondeat superior) could be held liable at law for any injury to the patient caused by taking him somewhere he didn’t want to do or by not informing him of his conditions and the destination options. As well, the paramedic could be in danger of losing his license for violating state regulations. I assure you, if it comes to a court case or administrative hearing, the ambulance service will NOT send in their owners and managers to say, “It’s not his fault, we told him to do that.” They will say, “We never, ever, ever would tell one of our employees to do anything that would be detrimental to patient care or in violation of the law.”

 For those that are interested or don’t know, respondeat superior is Latin for “let the master answer.” In many cases, the employer has to answer for the actions of their employees. It is also known as the “Master-Servant Rule.” Essentially, the employee cannot be held liable for actions that he performs when those actions are required by his employer. Actions that are outside the scope of the law, however, do not make the employee immune to prosecution for those actions.

If, however, the employer says, as Flash alluded, “We never, ever, ever would tell one of our employees to do anything that would be detrimental to patient care or in violation of the law.” and the employer can prove with company documentation that the opposite is true, the employee’s actions could still be actionable.

Ignorance of the law is not a defense.

 Which brings me to a question, CCC? Is that policy that you specified actually in writing anywhere, or is it word of mouth? (see above paragraph if it’s word of mouth or less than explicit)

 This policy is explicit. While not in an employee handbook, it is in writing elsewhere.

 If, on the other hand, you transport the patient to the appropriate facility (18 miles away) WITH the patient’s informed consent, and most especially if you are proven right and the company takes an adverse personnel action against you, the company may be liable at law in a lawsuit brought by the employee for creating a policy that violates state law. I can also assure you that public opinion would not be on the side of the company either, if it became public. Nor, I think, would the patient support the company’s adverse personnel action. Nor, I think, would the transferring office (who must have some reason for wanting them transported to a particular facility) be interested in having it made public.

 Employment law in my state allows an employer to terminate an employee for virtually anything. That isn’t to say that the employer would not be liable for creating a policy that violates state law, however.

I believe the public should know what we are doing, and why we are doing it. But that’s just me.

 Always, always, always do that which is in the best interests of the patient and what complies with the law.

 I have always done what is in the best interest of the patient. While I did not take the Hippocratic oath when I began working on an ambulance, I believe whole heartedly to “do no harm” is the ultimate goal. “Doing harm” can be something as simple as transporting a STEMI patient to a hospital that does not perform PCI, at least in my eyes.

 One of my more famous moments was when I was dispatching one day (yes, I did that too) and with all my units tied up, had a walk-in to the station having a possible heart attack. After warning my units to hold their traffic, I put the patient on high-flow oxygen, went back in and called a competing private service to come get the patient out of our main station. It was the only option I had. It was in the best interest of the patient. Fortunately my boss at the time ever only asked one question when you went outside the box, and that was exactly that. Was it in the best interests of the patient? As he said, every time, “Patient care comes first.”

That’s the way it should be.

I am glad your former boss saw the patient’s well-being as the first and foremost responsibility. Even though we compete with each other, the ultimate goal is the same: take care of people.

Patient care always comes first.

Thanks for your comments, Flash.

Who is the customer/You make the call

So; a scenario:

You respond to a local urgent care center where a Nurse Practitioner (there is no physician on staff) shows you to a middle-aged male who came in complaining of chest pain. The NP informs you that she performed a 12-lead, but didn’t see anything “really too wrong.” She also informs you that she has already called report to Roundthecorner Medical Center, and they are awaiting your arrival.

Roundthecorner Medical Center is one mile away.

After loading the patient in your ambulance, you perform your own 12-lead and almost fall over when you notice the humongous ST-segment depressions in the anterior, lateral, and septal leads.

Roundthecorner Medical Center does not perform interventional catheterization. They can perform caths, but can’t place stents. (Don’t get me started on that one.)

St. Elsewhere is 18 miles away, and they have the whole host of cardiology services.

For the sake of argument, your patient is stable enough to make the trip to St. Elsewhere. I’m not too interested in treatments, just the next decision to be made.

Your company policy says you must transport the patient to the hospital that the customer (in this case the NP) selected, and you are not supposed to even attempt to persuade the patient to choose another hospital.

Do you:

A: Take the patient to Roundthecorner Medical Center

B: Inform the patient that he is having “the big one” and transport him to Roundthecorner Medical Center

C: Inform the patient that he is having “the big one” and suggest he goes to St. Elsewhere

D: Suggest to the patient that he go to St. Elsewhere as opposed to Roundthecorner Medical Center, without telling him why.

 

I’m interested in reading your choice, and why you made that choice.

I’ve always held that the patient is the true customer, and the one we should be most focused on. I’ll let you all know what I would choose some time in the next few days.

False competence

Double-ALS-night-shift-overtime. Half good, half bad. I don’t know why I agreed to work a night shift.

It’s going easy enough until around 3 in the morning. Diabetic call at the local premortuary sepsis factory decubitus plant nursing home. Easy enough, right? Throw some dextrose up in there and be done with it, right?

Wrong.

The staff says he must go to the hospital to be evaluated because the doctor says so. To complicate matters, we can’t get a line on this guy, who I swear, must have served in the first World War, and he has a long history of dementia, so who is to say what his normal mental status is, anyway?

Fine. No biggie. Stab him with a bit of Glucagon, move him to the stretcher, and drive him to the hospital. No big deal, right?

Wrong.

It’s my turn to drive. It’s going just fine. I’m listening to George Noory talk about aliens over the Pacific Northwest. It’s an easy drive over two lane roads dappled with houses. When all of a sudden…

“Hey, C, light it up, okay?”

“Dowhatnow?”

“Turn on the lights and sirens.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s go emergency!”

“Why?”

“His mental status isn’t improving.”

Taking a glance at my watch and doing some quick calculations, I realize ten minutes isn’t necessarily enough for Glucagon to work, and this guy has dementia anyway.

“Umm, you want me to get back there and ride this call?” I ask.

“No, I’ve got it. We should just get there faster.”

“I have faith in you. And the next three traffic lights won’t hold us up too much.”

—–

I’ll stop the story here, because the conversation became fraught with animosity. Suffice it to say, I don’t believe in traveling emergency to the hospital, except in extreme circumstances. I won’t judge someone who chooses to use the lights and sirens during some calls, but during a hypoglycemic episode, when there hasn’t been enough time to allow the drug to work, and the vitals are better than mine? No way does that warrant lights and sirens.

Especially not at three in the morning.

Let’s not trick ourselves into thinking we are heroes by running people off the road to get to the hospital.

Maybe services could review the calls in which the medic decided to utilize lights and sirens during transport. I bet there is some interesting information out there.

Actually overheard on scene

“His blood pressure is eighty-over-palp, but I couldn’t find a radial pulse.”

Never mind the fact that the patient had a very palpable radial pulse, and a blood pressure that was auscultated at 140/70.

I suppose at one point in time, the blood pressure could have been 80/P, and the patient could have had a radial pulse that wasn’t palpable…

But that wasn’t the case, now was it?

Nice talk, bro.

Working with a new guy again. Slimm took the day off for his monthly mani/pedi can haircut. Call is for a late 50s man who dropped dead in a crowded restaurant. Fire reports asystole when they arrived, about 5 minutes after the 911 call. Bystander CPR was performed and the AED advised “no shock.” Patient is loaded and we are now enroute to the hospital, about 12 minutes away, when NG throws me against the wall with a violent turn out of the parking lot, and activates the siren.

CCC: Hey, you can turn off the lights and sirens. Just give us a nice, smooth ride to the hospital, okay?

Newguy: But this is a cardiac arrest, we have to go emergency!

CCC: No, we don’t ‘have to’ go emergency. Turn off the lights and siren, and give us a smooth ride to the hospital. We have everything under control back here.

Newguy: Uh, okay. If you say so. [keying up the radio] ‘Show us downgrading per the paramedic.’

Dispatch: Teenfoe, Medic Ateen

CCC: Thanks, buddy!

And later on, at the hospital, after the requisite patient transfer and pronouncement of death…

Newguy: So why did you make me turn off the lights and siren? Aren’t we supposed to go emergency to the hospital with cardiac arrest?

CCC: I didn’t make you turn off the lights and siren. I asked you to turn them off. And no, we aren’t supposed to go to the hospital in any certain fashion. We are supposed to get there safely.

NG: But why didn’t you want the lights on? Wasn’t that an emergency?

C: No, it wasn’t. Everything was completely under control.

NG: But the guy wasn’t breathing!

C: You are right. He wasn’t breathing. But he had a secured airway thanks to the fire department, he was receiving ventilations from the BVM, and he was getting fantastic chest compressions as shown by our capnography.

NG: I think we should have gone emergency. My regular partner goes emergency all the time.

C: Well, I’m not your regular partner, and I respectfully disagree.

NG: So do you ever go emergency to the hospital?

C: Rarely, but occasionally. When there is an unstable airway, or a complicated labor with an abnormal presentation, or when surgery would be needed really quick.

NG: Didn’t that patient need surgery?

C: Surgeons don’t operate on patients who are in asystole and are receiving chest compressions. Plus, we don’t know why he dropped dead. It could have been a PE, an MI, a stroke, or any other thing, and how would the hospital know which surgeon to call?

NG: I guess that makes sense.

C: The last thing we need in a cardiac arrest is to be thrown around by a fast-moving ambulance, or to have a difficult time focusing. Lights and sirens make things more stressful.

NG: But don’t the lights and sirens save time and get us there quicker?

C: I would rather perform better CPR and be able to focus on my patient, and know that everyone is going to get to the hospital safely than get there two minutes faster.

NG: So it’s not like, a rule that we have to drive emergency?

C: Not as far as I know. But your partner can do whatever she wants to.

NG: You ready to go in service?

C: Yeah. Let’s go get us a Coke or something.

 

Sick dude Part III

More about the Sick dude. Parts one and two are here and here.

I am an admitted ECG guru. I can look at these things for hours and hours on end. So I particularly enjoy getting a challenging, or different, one.

Sick dude’s 12-leads, with interpretation this time:

I agree and disagree with the interpretive algorithm here, which isn’t abnormal for me. I see atrial fibrillation, a right bundle branch block, and a right axis deviation. I don’t however, see any demand pacing.

Furthermore, complex #4 looks completely different than the rest of them, and it’s evident on the initial strip as well.

I am leaning towards a transient AV nodal block caused by the patient’s hyperkalemia. Hyperkalemia can certainly delay conduction through the myocardium, so I don’t believe my supposition be out of the realm of possibility.

Smarter people might disagree with me. But I’m okay with that.

So on to the patient’s second 12-lead, which the monitor spit out all on it’s own:

That’s cute. I chuckle a little bit every time I see those words “Pacemaker rhythm – no further analysis.” I take that to mean “Don’t really know what else to say.”

I certainly don’t think this is a paced rhythm at all. Those little pacer spikes at the bottom aren’t regular enough to be coming from a pacemaker, and frankly aren’t producing those complexes. This patient’s pacemaker was set at a back up rate of 70, yet the monitor thinks the pacer is firing at 50 times per minute.

What did happen, and I frankly can’t say why, is this man’s ECG changed from a right bundle branch block to a left bundle branch block. I have used my excellent cutting and pasting skills to elaborate:

I still use William Marrow to differentiate between right and left bundle branch blocks. Sure, I know that an rsR’ complex in V1 and S waves in V6 mean right bundle branch block, but I still use Ws and Ms.

“In a right bundle branch block, there is an “M” in V1 and a “W” in V6. In a left bundle branch block, there is a “W” in V1 and an “M” in v6.” WiLLiaM MaRRoW . I wish I could remember where I learned that, but it has long escaped my brain.

I don’t believe this guy is having cardiac issues, per se. I’m fairly certain saying that all his conduction problems are directly tied to his serum potassium, which was 7.7.

At the time of this writing, I still do not know the patient’s outcome.