Righty tighty...

Being back in the field is a wonderful thing.  The smell of week old urine on a regular, the thrill of getting the line on the recus patient and even just sitting in the buggy at a street corner catching up on QA.  But I was not prepared for what happened today.

THE EMREGENCY

A local clinic has called in a code 3 transfer for an asthmatic patient.

THE ACTION

Well, this sounds like a good one.  With at least one MD and a scattering of RNs in the office for them to call 911 before 5PM means it must be something serious.

Stop giggling.

I add myself to the run and head over the few blocks to the well known clinic as the engine company pulls up.  We head inside and are led, rather swiftly, to an exam room where our patient is working on sucking a non-rebreather bag back through the tiny hole in the mask.

"Hi there, what seems to be the trouble today?" I ask seeing a look of panic on the patient's face.

"His sats are dropping and the albuterol isn't helping!" a pajama clad medical office worker is telling me as she's fumbling with the tiny O2 sat monitor on his finger.

"Well, let's switch this to one of ours to start" the Engine Medic and EMT have prepared a mask on 15 liters with a well filled bag and the patient drinks in the fresh air, the look of panic quickly receding and relief taking it's place.

"Thanks guys, the albutrol must have finally kicked in" the pajamas tell the room, hoping it will cover up the look on her face that she is still completely dumbfounded as to what happened.

"Here's your trouble" the Engine officer says as if noticing an oddly shaped cloud, "Yer tank ain't on." And as soon as I can turn around to see the EMT still holding the clinic's mask the officer turns the key on the top of the clinic's O2 tank and air begins to flow.

"Beginner's mistake I guess" he says as he shuts it off and looks to me barely holding my professional pose. "Unless you need us Cap, we'll be on our way."

I cleared the Engine and comforted the patient who's "low sat" of 94% had risen to a comfortable 96%.  The ambulance arrived to take him in to Saint Farthest, per his request, and I relayed the situation.  The pajama clad person had left just after the engine and now came in with what was clearly an experienced RN.

"I think the tank is faulty." She told the older RN.

"I don't think it's the tank, Dear.  Thanks, guys." And down the hall they went.

"What was all that about?" the ambulance EMT asked as we wheeled the now calm patient to the elevator.

"She didn't know how those tanks worked.  Can you believe that?" the patient chimed in with not a hint of distress.

And to their credit the crew kept a straight face as the doors closed.

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