Close Encounters …!

July 20, 2007

Do not read if you are having your tea! 

The key turned in the lock and we pushed open the door to the flat. Shuffling between us the dishevelled old man stepped back into his home, his haven, his sanctuary. We had picked him up off the floor outside his flat after he had fainted. He was dirty and his clothes had that shiny lived in sheen to them. His grey hair was matted underneath his flat cap and his hands and finger nails were encrusted with black grime.

But he was as bright as a button in all other respects. All the normal checks, examinations and paperwork had been carried out…there was no need to go to the hospital and he was adamant that he did not want to go anyway.

Stepping over the threshold my nostrils were assailed by the all too familiar smell of uncared for old folk. A distinct smell of warm piss wafted down the hallway. A thick layer of dust made do as a carpet. Everywhere was a drab unclean yellow, not the bright sunshine type that reminds you of Mediterranean holidays but the nicotine type that sits on pub walls and ceilings.

He seemed happy with his lot. In his late eighties his hearing was almost non-exsistent and his eyesight was failing. But he was as sharp as a knife when it came to being independant. He had no family or friends to speak of. Living on his own in this hovel was all he wanted. But I saw it as just existing….not living.

As he was adamant he was not going to hospital we scoped out his flat to make sure all was well before we would leave him. In his kitchen all his food was well out of date and the milk cartons in the fridge were over two months old! His freezer was crammed full of micro-wave meals…yet he had no working micro-wave!

I asked the old chap if he was sure about staying here? He was. I told him that we would contact his GP and ask him to pop round and check him over. What we needed was his GP to see his living conditions and to persuade him to go in to hospital and involve Social Services. I was in the middle of explaining things to our prospective patient (shouting at the top of my voice directly into his grime encrusted ear to be more precise) when my crew mate called out from the hallway.

“Come and have a look at this!”

Stepping from the living room back into the hallway I see my crew mate….gipping! trying hard to stem a barf! His face is a strange colour, his cheeks swollen in anticipation of the multi-technicolour yawn that may happen any second! Using a gloved hand to steady himself against the dirty wall, he points with his free hand to the door next to him.

“The bathroom……!”

Using the toe of my boot I carefully and slowly push the bathroom door open. In the dim glow of a low wattage light bulb I initially make out the bath to the right. It is piled high with rubbish…boxes, refuse and papers. “Its not that bad….you must have seen worse than that!” My crew mate gently prods the door further open where the light from the hallway can illuminate the darkness better than the dim light bulb.

“What the f…….!”

There in front of me stands the toilet…the blocked toilet…blocked with the obvious. But it is not just blocked…it is built up! Above the rim of the toilet basin stands a mound of crap. It is at least a foot and a half above the rim! It stands there towering above the toilet bowl! Then the smell hits me! Big time! And now I am standing next to my crew mate in the hallway making the same pre-barf sounds that he is!

We both nimbly step outside the flat for some fresh air and give our stomachs a chance to settle and to try and make sense of what we,ve just seen. After five minutes we venture back into the flat. I try ringing his doctor but the receptionist says he is out although he has left a message that we should just take him to A/E. We cannot remove someone against their will, he is seemingly of sound mind. Again I ask the old chap if he wants to go to hospital? Not a chance. Reluctantly we bid our farewells to him and inform control of the situation.

Eventually arriving back at station, after going from one emergency to another, I start the paperwork for a Vulnerable Adult report and contact Social Services. After what seemed like an age I speak to the Emergency on call Social Worker. I explain what we have seen (and smelt) but the social worker seems totally disinterested. “We,ll try and get someone to pop round sometime tomorrow…maybe.” I hope he gets some help. All the while I have a mental picture in my head of Richard Dreyfuss sculpting things in the film “Close Encounters of the Turd Kind!”

I sincerely hope he gets help.

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(I aim to follow up this job to see if the old boy gets some help.)


Rayguns…

July 12, 2007

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 Dr. Grordborts…Infallible Aether Oscillator 

A superb new product has just come onto the market. The Infallible Aether Oscillator.

Just the thing to get rid of Moon men, Chavs and other undesirables.

See for yourself this amazing invention…I,ve ordered three, one for me, one for my crewmate and a spare just in case!

click here…. Infallible Aether Oscillator


Spider Woman…!

July 8, 2007

 

Called to a private address for reports of “SOB…Breathing Diffs!”

This is a Cat A Red call meaning that it is potentially “Life Threatening!”

Arriving promptly at the address we are met at the front door by the patients daughter who seems quite calm as she quickly explains that she did not know who to call to help her mother. I ask if her mum is okay as we step back into the house and head towards the ground floor bedroom to find our patient.

Walking into the bedroom I realise that our patient is not laid on her bed or sat in her chair trying to breath…in fact I cant see her at all! “Wheres your mum?” I ask the daughter. “Shes up there!” and she points above our heads. And she is….she is up there….stuck on the ceiling!!!

Everything becomes clear in an instant as to whats happened. The hoist that is used to get her into and out of bed has malfunctioned. The controls became stuck when it was in the lift mode and had continued to raise the patient all the way up until she was spread eagled facing inches away from the metal rail that runs across her bedroom ceiling!

Fortunately our patient was in good humour and was not breathing her last although she was slightly embarressed at her predicament. We called for back up and the Fire Service turned up to provide some muscle as we managed to shuffle/slide/shove/lift her from her hoist sling and back onto the bed. The daughter provided the tea and biscuits and we completed the paperwork leaving Spider Woman to get some sleep!

And yes I did initially piss my self laughing but only after checking that she was alright!

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A slightly idealistic view of our patient….just substitute the Spider suit for a pink crimpoline nightie!


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