It's been very quiet on the response front, but as I couldn't find my own Blog via the search engine, how could anyone else?

So I've renamed it to find out if I've been playing hard to get or there's just no interest out there.

Some crews get lots of trauma, they cannot seem to avoid it. Often they come across challenging situations on the way to work, or volunteers from the general public collapse in front of them in the aisle of a supermarket when they are doing their weekly shop. They even get knocks on their door in the middle of the night from worried mums clutching their sick babies.

Not me. And I don't get a lot of trauma either - but like proverbial London Buses, after a long wait they are now all coming at the same time. Serious trauma can result in having to write a Coroners Statement: it's a bit like a police statement, and I'm now knee deep in legal paperwork. They are a bind (you are expected to write them on shift which can result in repetition or if very busy, nothing at all) but they do make you think back and remember every single detail of an event.

I'm hoping that this change of luck does not mean that mums will start queuing outside my door at night with their snotty sickly offspring - I get enough of that with my own kids . . . and they're over 20!

Paramedic Diary

Tom Reynolds: Ambulance Blogger for several years (brilliant Tom - why didn't I think of it first) has encouraged me to commence an occasional diary from an ambulance paramedic working in a completely different area within the UK.

Patient confidentiality will be observed and situations may be 'doctored' to protect identities.

Just off nights and suffering the usual jet lag, but one routine job stands out from the midnight haze of ubiquitous alcoholics: a group of drunken women supporting one of their own with a minor head wound (from an alleged assault) have requested an ambulance. Two community policemen are holding court, trying to make sense of six drunken and conflicting accounts of what happened.

We (two paramedics/technicians normally comprise the crew) arrived and parked close by. Our slurring patient (from the alcohol, not the head wound we concluded) is escorted by probably the most drunken of this little bevy of boozers. The patient's friend looked hardened by life, possibly an alcoholic and by the look of her, might have recently taken drugs I guessed. Said lady gesticulated her cigarette in a dangerous fashion far too close to our faces for comfort to emphasize how much she loved the patient and that we should take care of her and take her to hospital immediately. Not as succinctly as that obviously, but that was about the gist of it. Then she slurred, swayed and exhaled that she was a nurse and had to be on duty the next day.

I heard two synchronized clicks as the community policemen's jaws dropped open in amazement. One whispered rhetorically in my ear that she would be in no state to manage a patient, let alone a hangover. The other questioned how she could possibly be a qualified nurse. We did not interrogate further to check this out - no point, and took the easy route - straight to Casualty.

And the moral is: don't prejudge a situation, patient or their friends. You might get it right most of the time, but not all of the time. And in this case: who knows?

Well: that's my first effort. What does the blogging world think? I may continue blogging - and I may not.