Extreme Medical Services: Medical Care On The Fringes Of Humanity Page 2

  Dean looked out at the crowd from the stage in the auditorium where he and all his classmates were lined up. They wore their light blue uniform shirts and navy cargo pants with the pockets for all the gear they would carry. He was average height at 5’ 11” with short cut brown hair. He was thin and thought he looked good in his new uniform. He prided himself on being pretty fit, though not as muscle-bound as his classmate Jeff Jones. He looked as if he could lift a car off a trapped patient all by himself. Dean had achieved his goal of being first in his class, getting top marks not only in his National Registry test but also on his grade point average and his clinical rotation scores. Even in the boring parts, like the community paramedic stations, he’d paid attention and tried to learn something from the medics he figured had washed up there at the end of their careers.

  The Elk City deputy fire chief who was chief of EMS was now standing up addressing the group of paramedics. He was talking about their call to serve the community, congratulating the family members and guests of the class for their support during their studies. Dean didn’t have anyone out there in the crowd, so he didn’t care about what the chief had to say about support. He’d done this on his own, and he was proud of it. His mother had wished him luck but was disappointed in him not going to regular college to find what she thought of as a real job. His father, well he was never around enough to say anything worthwhile or supportive anyway. So Dean was standing there waiting for the chief to finish so the reception could begin, and they could all find out where their assignments would be. He’d ended up requesting Station 1 downtown because that was where he’d get the best calls and all the good trauma patients.

  Deputy Chief Decker wound down the speech. He turned to look at the row of newly minted paramedics standing behind him and asked the crowd to give them a round of applause for their choice to be servants to their community. The applause was enthusiastic since this was the end of the ceremony. A few of the folks out in the audience even whistled and cheered. Then Dean was walking off the stage in a line with his classmates and into the reception outside in the cafeteria and student lounge. He chatted with a few of his classmates. Jill Manning told him she was hoping to get assigned to one of the community paramedic shifts and he wasn’t surprised. Everyone knew that she eventually wanted to continue her education in healthcare and become a nurse practitioner some day. It suited her. She’d never really bought into the adrenaline rush that most of them wanted in this business of emergency medical services (EMS).

  Dean wandered around, making small talk with the few people who would talk with him. He filled up his cup with some more punch from the refreshment table. His primary instructor, Mike Farver moved around the room with a collection of big manilla envelopes, talking to each of the students in turn and handing them one. Dean knew that in each envelope was their final scores and the badge they had earned to pin to their uniforms. That was the badge that said paramedic on it. The envelope also contained their new uniform patches and, most importantly, their new assignments and the name of their preceptor at the new stations. It was a formality in his case since everyone knew he’d picked Station 1 by now, and the top of the class always got their pick of assignment.

  Mike was taking his time getting to Dean, though. He’d passed by and said hi when he first started handing out the envelopes but since then, the older paramedic instructor had not come over in Dean’s direction. People and their families were starting to leave as the assignments were handed out, shaking hands or hugging each other before they left, wishing each other luck on their first days on the job next week.

  At this point, Dean had pretty much figured he was going to the be the last one who found out where he got assigned, and he was ok with that. Everyone else had people here to congratulate them and most were going out with family to congratulatory dinners and such. While he considered himself friendly with his classmates, he’d never gotten close with any of them and he didn’t have anyone here to celebrate with anyway. The reception had pretty much wound down by the time Mike came over to Dean with the final manilla envelope. The deputy chief had left long ago, along with all of the other invited dignitaries. The catering crew was starting to clean up the tables and mess.

  “Took you long enough.” Dean said with a smile as Mike made his way over to him with his assignment. “I would have thought that I would get to go first.”

  Mike stepped over and shook his hand. “‘The last shall be first, and the first shall be last,’ my friend,” he said smiling. “I wanted to have a few words with you in relative privacy before you got your assignment. You’ve been the brightest of my students in a long time, Dean. You’ve studied the hardest. You have a good handle on skills, and you're one of the best intuitive problem solvers I’ve ever seen. I want you to know that it’s been a pleasure teaching and watching you grow into a fine paramedic these past few years.”

  He handed Dean the envelope. Dean could feel the extra bulk as he took it. The badge and patch were pushing the envelope out in places. Mike continued, “I just wanted you to know as you head off to this first assignment, you got picked for it because you're one of the best to come through the academy in a while.” Mike put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “This is not what you expected, Dean, but it suits your unique skills and talents. Remember to keep an open mind and stay safe out there. You’ve got the skills to do this job the way it needs to be done.” And then he shook Dean’s hand again and walked away, grabbing his uniform coat and heading out the door to the parking lot.

  Well, that was weird, Dean thought as he flipped the metal tabs on the manilla envelope and lifted up the flap to look inside. He reached in and slid out a stack of papers along with his patch and badge balanced on top. He sat down at one of the tables as the caterers continued to clean up around him, looking briefly at the silver badge that said paramedic on it. The patch looked a little different than expected which was weird. He thought all the Elk City paramedic patches were the same. It said EMS-U at the top, had a star of life in the middle and Paramedic at the bottom. There was a certificate of completion. His diploma for an associates degree in applied science as a paramedic was in there along with another white sealed envelope with the Elk City letterhead on it. He quickly opened this one, tearing open the sealed flap with his finger, careful to avoid a paper cut, and pulled out the paper inside. He unfolded it and read the letter.

  “Dean Flynn, congratulations on your achievement and graduation from the city college paramedic program. This is your letter of acceptance to employment as a paramedic for Elk City and pending the receipt of your state paramedic license, will act as your proof of licensure. Please report on Monday morning June 2 to Station U …”

  “Station U?” Dean muttered under his breath, his shoulders sagging a bit with disappointment. “Where the hell is station U?”

  ----

  Two days later, Dean had been driving around the outskirts of town as his phone’s GPS took him to his new work assignment. He looked a little startled when the sedate woman’s voice on his phone told him to turn left off of Route 40 into a rundown industrial park. “What kind of EMS station was in a dump like this?” He wondered aloud to himself. The directions took him to the very back of the industrial park past buildings and warehouses to the last parking lot on the right. He turned in as he saw the small sign on the metal siding that read “Paramedic Station U.”

  Dean drove his beat-up white Ford Ranger pickup into the lot and parked. There was only one other car in the lot, a small silver Nissan sedan. He glanced at his watch. Damn, he was late. He jumped out of the truck, quickly checking his reflection in the driver’s side window as he shut the door. Dean wanted to make a good impression on his preceptor, whoever they were. Maybe he could work his way out of this backwater station and into something more exciting. He still didn’t know what he had done that netted him this assignment.

  He turned and walked up to the steel entry door. It had a vertical rectangular slotted window in it, and he tri
ed to peek inside as he turned the knob. He walked tentatively into the squad room for the first time at Station U. Dean looked at the small woman behind the desk at the computer and said, “Hi, I'm Dean Flynn. I'm reporting for my first shift here.”

  Brynne looked up from the computer where she was working on a report and shook her head. "No freaking way."

  Dean pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and looked at it for second. "This is 'Station U' isn't it? It was a bit hard to find tucked away back here."

  Brynne held up a finger and picked up her desk phone. She pushed a button on speed dial and waited while it rang. "Chief …” She waited while she listened to a response and got an angry look on her face. "Stop laughing, and what do you mean 'You knew it was me?'"

  "I think I'm your new partner." Dean began, stopping at her upheld palm.

  "So it's final?" she paused. "And I assume he doesn't know what we do?" There was another pause. "Chief, you owe me … again." Brynne hung up the phone. She sighed as she looked at Dean standing in the doorway. “Yes, you're my new partner,” she said to him. “Sit down we've got a few things to talk about."

  He was still thinking about the events from earlier that night of his first call with their unique patients and meeting his new partner as Dean walked back into the crew quarters.

  Brynne glanced up from the computer screen and laughed out loud at the expression on Dean’s face.

  “How did you react when you saw your first real werewolf?” He retorted. “I didn’t even know they existed for until now!”

  “Oh, pretty much the same.” She said with a chuckle. “You have to start thinking about them as any other patient. Most of these people just want to blend in with the rest of us and live out their lives despite their unusual situations and living conditions.”

  “If you say so,” Dean responded.

  “I do say so, and for the time being, that’s going to be what you have to go on,” Brynne said. “Look, despite what I said earlier, I don’t intend for you to be a robot who follows me around and blindly does whatever I say. Sure, there will be some of that at first as you get used to what it is we’re doing. You have to listen to me when it comes to patient care because there’s much you don’t know, and it’s to assure our safety. But we’re going to be a team. So, if an idea, no matter how hair-brained, comes up during a call, let me know. Just be ready to do a little thinking outside of the box.” She turned back to the computer screen. “Let me finish up this report, and then I’ll give you a chance to read it before I send it off to headquarters. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Dean said. He turned and headed over to the couch in the corner by the flat screen TV mounted on the wall. A bookshelf below it held the usual textbooks he might have seen in any EMS station around the country. There was an older edition of the same anatomy and physiology text he had used in paramedic school on the shelf, along with a series of paramedic care textbooks. He also saw a lot of paperback novels and two different hardcover versions of what appeared to be Grimm’s Fairy Tales.

  “What’s with the children’s books?” He asked.

  “Huh?” Brynne muttered, looking up from the screen. “Oh, those. Consider them patient research tools. Not everything in them is accurate, but a lot of the quirkier stuff is. It seems people have known about the Unusuals living among us for years, and that knowledge has made it into popular culture. The same goes for all the fantasy and sci-fi novels on the shelf. If you aren't already a fan, you might want to start reading some of them to get a handle on the type of things we might deal with on this job.”

  “Uh, okay?” Dean said. “What about movies? Are they any good for research? I’m not much of a reader.”

  “Some are, some not so much,” she replied as she spun around in her office chair and got up. “It seems that, lately, Hollywood has been playing fast and loose with the standard legends and are coming up with their own variations. The Twilight movies are a good example of that. Some would say that Bella has ruined vampires for the rest of us.”

  Dean just stared at her. “Wait. There are vampires?”

  “Yep and some of them would like to have a word or two with Stephenie Meyer, believe me,” Brynne chuckled. “Look, Dean, calm down. Nothing’s going to happen to you. They’re just people. A little different, sure, but people none the less.”

  “If you say so,” Dean said, picking up one of the hardcover Grimm’s Fairy Tale books and starting to leaf through it. He shook his head. This was going to take some getting used to. “Do we ever go on calls with normal people?”

  “Only if there’s a mass casualty situation somewhere in the district. Then we’re on call for anything until the MCI is dealt with. Most of the time we are only on call for Unusuals. We’re the only EMS-U team in the city. We only get three or four calls in the course of a normal shift. That ebbs and flows of course. Some days there’s nothing, and others we’re running our butts off.”

  Brynne pointed to a doorway off the main squad room. “Back down that hallway are the bathroom and bunkroom. If you’re on duty, you’re allowed to grab some sleep. Believe me, the overhead alarm will wake you up with no problem if there’s a call. We work twelve-hour shifts on the sixes for which I’m glad. Working twenty-four-hour shifts like they do in some EMS systems is just asking for trouble with medication errors and fatigue based mistakes.” She pointed over to the first computer of the two at the desk. “Take a look at the report and let me know what you think.”

  Dean rose and went over to sit in the black swivel chair. After a few minutes reading, he turned to Brynne. “There’s no mention of his being a werewolf at all.”

  “Of course not,” Brynne said. “If we started putting all that stuff in our reports, they’d lock us up! These reports are part of the medical record and can be queried by the courts. Official knowledge of the presence of Unusuals in society is highly compartmentalized. There are government sub-committees and certain judges who are in on it in case there is a need for a legal remedy. There are also docs at the hospital who know about it in case we need to take someone in, but for our so-called public reports, we write it up in strictly medical terms.”

  She pointed to the screen. “Click the EMS-U tab at the top of the report window.” Dean did so and looked at the series of check boxes and drop-down menus as well as a short narrative section. Brynne continued. “That’s where we put the Unusual information from our call. In this case, I selected ‘Lycan-Wolf’ from the drop-down menu. That’s it. Everything else can be written or marked in the regular electronic report. We responded to a call for a diabetic patient with altered mental status. The patient was agitated, and while physically restraining him, we administered glucagon IM to treat the problem. The patient signed a transport refusal, and we returned to the station. It’s simple as that. We usually don’t even stray from protocol very far, if at all.”

  Dean turned and looked up at Brynne as she stood behind him. “About that, I thought we were under the same protocols as the rest of the district units.”

  “We are,” she said. “It’s just that the medical director, who is, by the way, in on the secret, has given us permission to step outside of protocol for normal humans when necessary. We can call for a medical consult if we need it. If we do venture outside of protocol, we’d better have a good reason, and we have to document it in the EMS-U tab.” Brynne smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t happen that often.”

  “Should I assume the ‘U’ in ‘EMS-U stands Unusual?’” Dean asked.

  “Yes,” Brynne replied. “We’re officially in the Emergency Medical Services - Unusual Division.”

  She walked over to the other side of the long desk, slid open a drawer and pulled out what looked like a squirt bottle of blue or black ink, a stencil and small paint roller. “I didn’t get a chance to do this when you first got here since that call came in so quickly. Most Unusuals can see into the infrared and UV spectrums. Because of that, we mark ourselves so they can see that we are one of
the good guys and they can let their guard down with us. This is a special UV/IR dye that is like permanent marker. It will be invisible to us unless we look under a backlight or with night vision goggles. It wears off after four days or so, so you’ll have to do this again when you start each new shift rotation.”

  She squirted some of the dark ink on the small paint roller. “Hold out your hands, palm down.” Dean hesitated. “Don’t worry, this stuff is harmless. It’s just like the stamps they use at nightclubs and amusement parks to mark you so you can come back in after you leave.” He held out his hands as she had asked and she placed the stencil with the same shape as his shoulder patch on the back of his right hand. She rolled the ink over the stencil. It felt cold to the touch. The ink was dark blue at first but faded as it dried. Brynne repeated the process with the back of his left hand.

  “So you do this every four days?” He asked.

  “Most of us opt for the permanent option,” she said as she returned the ink, stencil and roller to the desk drawer and returned with what looked like a standard flashlight. She clicked it on and shined the purplish glow of a black light on his hands. He could see the stencil outlined on the backs of his hands in a faint blue color. It disappeared when she took the light away. She shined the black light on the back of her left hand. Dean saw the same outline as his but the lines looked thicker and more substantial. “This is a tattoo you can get if you want. It’s done at a special place where Unusuals get their ink. I’d wait until you think you’ll last here, though. This job’s not for everyone.”