So some pretentious jackwagon comes up to Shaq and I at the hospital after we dropped off a patient.
“Why didn’t you transport that patient emergency?”
I’m dumbfounded. Plus hungry.
“That last patient, the ER wants to know why you didn’t transport him emergency.”
“…because I didn’t feel it was necessary?…” (seriously, where is this going?)
“Well, in a stroke, time is brain, and every second counts, so…”
“So why didn’t you transport him emergency?”
“Because I didn’t feel it was necessary.”
Then we left.
What I left out was that the patient was last seen around ten o’clock in the morning by his son, at which point his son noticed his face was drooping and he ‘wasn’t talking right.’ Nobody had seen the patient since after dinner yesterday, when his daughter brought him food. At some point, the patient went to bed, then was found more than 12 hours after being seen normal. Oh, and the son that saw him with the droopy face at ten a.m.? That son called 911 at 4 P.M.
So much for that window.
I’ve always had this personal policy: We transport everyone to the hospital non-emergency, unless:
- there is an impending airway failure, or we are unable to control the airway for some reason
- there is a limb presentation in a pregnant female
- any time my partner feels it is necessary
My partner and I make decisions together, and our safety is in our minds first. Since driving with the lights and sirens is inherently much more dangerous, we reserve them for cases when it is absolutely necessary. Hell, it’s dangerous enough with two people up front, but it’s even more difficult trying to clear these intersections by yourself, and trying to deal with a distraught family member.
I’m willing to listen to suggestions as to when I should use the lights and sirens for transport, but unless my management or my medical director wants to put it on paper, I won’t take criticism.