To start my shift last night I went out to the local urban camper hang out for an " unconscious person" " possible seizure". I have been there frequently and most of the campers know me. I pull up and 5 guys are carrying another man to me. He is unresponsive, cool, diaphoretic, blue and breathing 4 times a minute. Can you guess what his pupils looked like? The guys are all fussing at me " You have to save him baby, you know him, you know what he does." Fortunately for me I did know him and what his favorite past time was. Also luckily for me he has veins left because he lives needle free. So on goes the BVM, in goes the line and yee haw here comes the narcan. I could feel the eyes of the dudes outside on me. 1 breath, 2 breaths and BING! My man is back! I gave the little woo hoo hand wave and said to him " welcome back from the dead my brotha!" While he looked at me in sheepish gratitude. When he sat up my cheering squad out side began to high five and clap!. The only other time we got a standing ovation was when we brought around a diabetic in church one Sunday night. What would life be like if we were cheered on everyday?
I'm going to get a sign for my truck:
M1-Street miracles preformed daily.
BTW they had put ice down his britches. Good times.
I'm going to get a sign for my truck:
M1-Street miracles preformed daily.
BTW they had put ice down his britches. Good times.