My Hypocrisy Knows No Bounds...

The other night, I'm working on the ambulance, and it's 1:30am, I'm sound asleep in my bunk, and we get a call to a local nursing home for an unconscious person. We arrive, and are told that the patient has had a couple episodes of unconsciousness over the past 12 hours, and that bloodwork came back and some of his blood levels were off. I asked the staff-member (I won't call her a Nurse), "When was his last episode of being unconscious?", to which she replied, "Oh, at about 1:00am" (it's now 1:40am). I couldn't help myself with this comment...

"Ummmm...ok...I know it's been 15 years since I went to Paramedic School, but at 1:00am, what you are describing sounds like symptoms of SLEEPING!!!" She was not amused. I was not amused. Neither was the patient, when we had to wake him up to move him from his nice, soft, warm bed, to our cold and uncomfortable cot. He was as unconscious as I had been at 1:00am. But what can I say? I'm just a dumb Ambulance Driver. You call, we haul!

New Feature!!!

I am going to start a new feature to my blog, and it will be called, "My Hypocrisy Knows No Bounds". These posts will basically show my sick, sometimes perverted, always disturbed, sense of humor. I have recently been shown a couple of life's hilarious ironies, and it has driven me to steal the famous Val Kilmer as Doc Holiday in the movie Tombstone line, "My Hypocrisy Knows No Bounds". So...without further ado...

This is sad...

OK...I have to be all "legal" like here...and, so as to not violate any HIPAA rules or regulations, I will just say that what I am about to tell you is something that I have HEARD from someone else!

Let's just say...there was an 85 year old man, who lived in a Town. He obviously had some sort of dementia or Alzheimers setting in (already set in?). And...in the course of 3 weeks...he had called 911 and requested an ambulance at least 15 times (OK...I'm selfish, because 95% of these calls have come between 3am and 5am!!!). But...he would call 911, because he wasn't sure if he took which of his medications at what time. Basically...he had no idea when he took what medication, or even if he took them at all. And, after reviewing his meds...a couple of them were pretty much VERY IMPORTANT to be taken on time/on schedule!!! So...where do we fall into play???

We have a couple of options. Elder Abuse. We're mandated reporters. But...that REALLY doesn't fit here...I mean, who's he abusing? No one.

That's really the only obvious one. Otherwise...we'd have to really paint a grim picture, to get it to stick.

So...what do we do? I'm HONESTLY NOT being a prick about being woken up at 5am to take this guy to the Hospital because he doesn't remember if he took his 11pm meds or not. I'm not complaining about that. But...this guy lives with his wife...and, partially takes care of his wife. So how can he do that if he has to call 911 to figure out if he took his meds 8 hours ago???

It's a very sticky situation...but one that I think is important. What program, or, WHO, is in place to help this person in this situation??? The answer is...No One. Seriously. Everyone will try to pass him off to someone else, because he's either a "psych" patient, or a "dementia" patient, or just a "wacko". That's where someone can fall through the cracks! And it's sad. And I don't have an answer. But I'm just venting...

At The Bar...

A short little guy was sitting at a bar, drinking his beer. A thug came and sat next to him. Within a couple of minutes, the thug whacked the little guy across the face, and said, "That's Judo, from Korea".

About 5 minutes later, while both still sitting there, the thug whacks the little guy across the face again, and says, "That's Karate from Japan". With this, the little guy hops off his barstool, and waddles out of the bar.

About a half hour later, the thug is still sitting at the bar, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns, to see the little guy standing there, and then WHACK! The thug falls, unconscious, on the floor. The little guy looks at the bartender and says, "When the Fucker wakes up, tell him that was a Shovel, from Home Depot!"

I'm back!

OK...I've been gone for a bit...because I let "life" get in the way. But I'm done letting life get in the way of me aimlessly writing my twisted thoughts! So...here goes!

Diamond Bracelet

A lady walks into a Tiffany's. She browses around, spots a beautiful diamond bracelet and walks over to inspect it.

As she bends over to look more closely she inadvertently breaks wind. Very embarrassed, she looks around nervously to see if anyone has noticed her little accident and prays that a sales person doesn't pop up right now.

As she turns around, her worst nightmare materializes in the form of a nattily dressed, overindulgent looking salesman standing right behind her.

Crisp as a cucumber and displaying an ultra effete presence, the salesman greets the lady with, 'Good day, Madam. How may we help you today?'

Very uncomfortably, but hoping that the salesman may just not have been there at the time of her little 'accident', she asks, 'Sir, what is the price of this lovely bracelet?'

Responding in a very patronizing manner he answers, 'Madam, if you farted just looking at it, you're going to shit when I tell you the price.'

Guts or Balls?

There is a medical distinction. We've all heard about people having
guts or balls, but do you really know the difference between them?
In an effort to keep you informed, the definitions are listed below:

GUTS - Is arriving home late after a night out with the 'lads', being
met by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to ask: 'Are you
still cleaning, or are you flying off somewhere?'

BALLS - Is coming home late after a night out with the 'lads',
smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your
wife on the butt and having the balls to say: 'You're next, fatty.'

This should clear up any confusion about definitions.

Medically speaking, there is no difference in the outcome, since both
ultimately result in death.