French
Definition: verb take a nap, nap, have forty winks, doze, catnap
I used to think that naps were a waste of time. There was always too much to do…too much playing with my toys; too much playing in the water at the lake; too much hanging out with my friends; too much studying for finals; too much practicing my violin for a competition; too much work; too much too much…
I would give anything to get back the times that my grandmother would talk me in to lying down with her for “a boat ride to Lollipop-Land”. Whoever made it to Lollipop-Land first “won”! One of my favorite memories is lying on the hammock at my grandparent’s lake house (I was about 5 years old). The breeze was warm. The sound of the waves bumping against the rocks on the back side of the house was relaxing. My special lady was was swaying us back and forth. She would would tell me to close my eyes as she started describing the trip to our magical destination. The river was made of flowing chocolate, and there were giant lollipops and gumdrops. That was usually about as far as we got because my creative grandmother would be sleeping soundly. She was always the winner to Lollipop-Land! But I didn’t care to be the winner…I wanted to be out playing with the big kids. Naps were dumb! I wish with all my heart I could be there with her now… (No, this is not a sad story!)
Fast forward to college. Naps were starting to be more appreciated. When I had class early in the morning (Music Theory at 8:00 a.m. across campus), and there is wasn’t a break until Days of Our Lives at noon (Don’t judge!), naps were appreciated on occasion. I practiced my violin for several hours a day, had symphony practice once night a week (unless there was a performance coming up, then it was 3-4 times that week), and had studying mixed in. Forty winks were crammed in wherever I could get some.
When I was a 911 dispatcher, I was going to EMT and then Paramedic School during the day, and working at the Sheriff’s Office from midnight to 0800. Naps were beginning to become a luxury. Ah, the sweet slumber that could be squeezed in to any free half hour. I learned to sleep in a corner of my classroom during my lunch hour. I also learned to catnap in my car for 10 minutes when I was too tired to keep my eyes open on the drive home from school.
Now, imagine having a career that actually has a bed in your “office”. Ok…so there are jobs out there that have that benefit (i.e. doctors, chiropractors, IKEA employees), but are they able to curl up and sleep between patients…or customers? Maybe there is a lucky Kindergarten teacher that can roll out a mat once in a blue moon. I am certainly not saying that Paramedics and EMTs are “allowed” to nap between calls or on their downtime. Let me tell you, some of those day/night shifts that are spent sitting in an ambulance for 10-12 hours, not running a call, is pretty boring! Squeezing in a snooze sounds like a good idea!
It didn’t take me long to learn how to twist my body into a pretzel so I could curl up in the passenger seat to catch some ZZZs when opportunity struck. The seats didn’t recline much (about 3 inches back, if we were lucky), so sometimes heading to the back of the rig to sleep on the cot wasn’t a bad idea. I realize to most people, that sounds horrifying. The assortment of patients that we have on our stretcher would make most people think twice, but hey… We clean it off, right? Some nights, my partner and I would take turns driving from one post to the next so that the other could stay in the back and sleep.
Forty Winks
On that balmy night in late October, we had been running back to back calls. One of our calls was a particularly emotional one, so we were ready to kick back and have a relaxing lunch at one of the downtown, all-night, greasy spoons. We sat down and gorged ourselves on French toast, hash browns, bacon, and LOTS of coffee…after all, we still had to survive another five hours our shift! After we finished eating, we waddled out to our rig as the after-bar-crowd was coming in. Whew…we made it in the nick of time. There was nothing worse than a bunch of drunk/tipsy twenty-somethings out having a good time (insert sarcasm- because I was working and not out having fun).
My partner, Greg, unlocked the doors, and we piled in the ambulance. He started the rig, and… SNIFF, SNIFF. Ugh! What was that horrible smell? I looked over at Greg and raised my eyebrows, “Did you need to go back in and use their bathroom?” He looked confused, and said he was going to ask me the same thing. I leaned in to the vents…SNIFF, SNIFF. The offensive smell wasn’t coming from the air blowing out of the dash.
I was starting to get very queasy. All of that greasy food was no longer sitting well. The odor in the rig was a combination of rotting cabbage, moldy fruit, and Limburger cheese with some vinegar drizzled over the whole mixture. I felt like we were sitting in the bottom of a trash dumpster. We rolled down the windows, and gulped some fresh air.
I asked Greg if he cleaned the cot from our last call (which was a bit nasty in its own right). Of course, I got the “Well, duh” look. Ok, ok…but I turned to look anyway. “What in the…MOTHER OF ALL THAT IS HOLY!?!?!” My partner turned and looked, and we both barreled out the doors at the same time. We walked to the back of the ambulance, and I threw open the back doors.
Bright lights shone down on us from the rear spot lights. Interior lights lit up like a bar at “last call”. The source of the malodorous funk lifted his head and let out a long, “Homer Simpson-type” belch, and managed to slur, “Shut the f%*ing door!” Lying on our cot was one of our “frequent fliers”. He was a cantankerous fifty-something drunkard (tippler, inebriate, sot…heavy drinker) that spent his days and nights wandering around town, drinking, fighting, and calling 911.
Looking at him on that cot, I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. Our smelly guy had his shoes kicked off (that explained part of the fetid smell), and his pants were unbuttoned. Ick! “Get up, Jim! It’s time to go,” I ordered in my most forceful voice. Apparently words escaped him because I received a form of sign language in response. Greg hopped up in the midst of the odor that surrounded the grumpy man like Pig Pen from the Charlie Brown cartoon and started to pull him up and off the cot.
Jim hollered, “I need to go to the hospital.” Those words were very routine for him. “No you don’t! You climbed in here to sleep. Now it’s time to get out,” my partner was now the forceful one. This banter went back and forth for a few minutes until we knew that this situation was futile, and we would be called back in several minutes for him anyway. I advised Dispatch of our current “call” and that we would be enroute to the hospital.
I picked up the mic to call my radio report to the patient’s preferred hospital. “Memorial Hospital, this is Unit 101 coming in with an approximately 55 year old male patient that has an odor of an alcoholic beverage on his breath. He was discovered smelling up…er…sleeping in the back of our rig. When he was told to get out, he stated he needed to go to the hospital. Patient has no complaints at this time other than “wanting to sleep”. Patient is A&Ox4 and has refused any vital signs or patient care. We will see you in about 3 min.”
If looks could kill, we would be dead a thousand times over. As we rolled the cot into the ER, the nurses were lined up watching us maneuver our way to Jim’s “usual bed”. As an offer of goodwill, I reached into my EMS pants, and handed Jim’s ER nurse my tub of Mentholatum. “This might help with the odor.” She made a Hrrmph noise, smacked it out of my hand. As the small tub flew through the air, I caught it with my other hand. Ha…And that’s how it’s done!
Just for that…the patient is all yours!
Rule #3: *EDITED* Don’t Piss Off the Nurses (Formerly Fire Crews…Which still holds true!)
Rule #11: Make Sure the Cot is Clean Before Napping On It
Rule #13: Check the Back of the Ambulance for Stowaways
(Side Note: when the front door locks of the ambulance are activated, the locks in the back don’t trigger. They have to be manually locked.)