Clarion FireEMS Blog Network - Recent Global Posts

Lateral Firefighter/EMT/AEMT/Paramedic Memphis Fire Department / Deadline: 11/13/2021

erics — Sun, 05 Sep 2021 02:22:17 +0000

Fire Department
Memphis Fire Department
Department Website:
https://form.jotform.com/212144534241040
Job Position Title:
Lateral Firefighter/EMT/AEMT/Paramedic
Job Description Details:
Hiring age 19-45. 2 years of full-time or 5 years volunteer experience. Firefighter 1 and 2, EMT/AEMT/Paramedic License. No written exam. The hiring process for laterals: interview, physical agility, medical screening, psychological screening, drug screening, and background check. 8-week lateral academy: 1-week processing, 2 weeks EMS, and 5 weeks fire, This academy is with lateral instructors to learn the Memphis Fire system. Starting pay: FF/EMT or FF/AEMT $56,787 one year top out pay $58,800 Starting pay: FF/Medic $61,898 one year top out pay $64,0092 All firefighters will receive 3% next July and a 9% bonus for years 2022 and 2023. Firefighter Medics ride ALS Engines and Trucks. No 24-hour shifts on ALS Ambulances. 57 Fire stations that cover 324 square miles. Hiring 45 laterals for a class that will start in early 2022. Fill out the interest form: https://form.jotform.com/212144534241040
Job Opening Date:
09/01/2021
Job Deadline Date:
11/13/2021
Upload Flyer:
Lateral-Flyer-2022.jpg
Department Logo:

Divided We Fall

Michael Morse — Thu, 05 Aug 2021 14:47:16 +0000

Separating the haves, the have nots, the pretty, the homely, the black, the white, the brown, the yellow the vaxxed, the unvaxxed . . . where does it lead? To chaos, that's where. We are all in this together, everybody has a story, a reason, a right to follow their heart and lead their lives to the best of their ability. The Covid pandemic is no reason to tear us apart. We will survive, but at what cost? As published in the Providence Journal August 3, 2021 Our nation needs to be one nation, indivisible. We are a single country full of different people, different philosophies, different ethnicity and different opinions, designed to be unbreakable and inseparable in its composition. We need to have the freedom to express our views, as unpopular as some of them may be without fear of retribution from groups of people whose ideas do not mesh with our own. Disagreement is healthy, and serves to sharpen an argument in favor or against that in which we believe. Few of us have not been affected by Covid-19. Fewer still have no opinion on how best to survive the pandemic. A healthy, respectful debate concerning vaccine, treatment, avoidance and recovery from the virus creates an opportunity to explore ideas that at first glance do not coincide with our own. Everybody wins when everybody participates, and every bit of knowledge helps individuals decide for themselves how they choose to battle this scourge. The machinations of communication have dramatically changed the way we relate to one another. While human beings have always gravitated to those who hold similar values, the introduction of social media into our midst has created dishonesty in our discourse. It is subtle, invasive and powerful. It offers validation and group acceptance with little effort. It offers strength in numbers, safety and power.Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Anybody who has spent any time at all conversing with their fellow humans through a keyboard understands the power of anonymity amplified by a tribe of supporters. Our proclivity toward seeking acceptance at the expense of seeking understanding has created an unhealthy tribal atmosphere that will destroy what we have built as a nation.Separating people into “vaxxed” and “unvaxxed” tribes serves a purpose, and it is not helpful for either group. Blaming the continuing misery of Covid and Delta on people who have chosen to not submit to the approved narrative and bullying from people led to believe that their words and actions are justified creates a false sense of superiority in the group that has the backing of the invisible powers that control that which we are allowed to say. Erasing alleged misinformation without trial runs contrary to everything necessary to keep the American experiment healthy. The last months have been difficult for all of us. Many have lost loved ones. Many have felt worse than they have ever felt. Everybody has experienced loss. We have all lost many of the freedoms we took for granted. We granted those who govern power over those who are governed. Our representatives did the best they could, and did as good as any of us could have done in their position. Their efforts are not a total failure, but the results are certainly abysmal. It is time for government to step back, and let the people live their lives as they see fit.To be successful, we need accurate information. We do not need manipulated statistics, shaming, separation and distrust. We need the media to be in conjunction with the government; not to spread an agenda, but to provide something of value. News. We need social media companies to stay out of the mess they have created. We the people will figure out who is reliable, what is legitimate and who and what is not. Information cannot be controlled by vulnerable people with thoughts and values of their own. These things cannot be mandated, laws will simply be circumvented and regulations ignored.It may take some time, but if we, as a nation of individuals, not tribes cannot figure out how to do what is best for all of us we do not deserve the freedoms we are currently squandering. Michael Morse, mmorsepfd@gmail.com, a monthly contributor is a retired Captain with the Providence Fire Department, the author of several books and a columnist for a number of Fire and EMS publications. He is a recipient of The Macoll/Johnson fellowship in literature from The Rhode Island Foundation

Chief Wentworth

Michael Morse — Fri, 30 Jul 2021 19:30:25 +0000

He was a giant, one of those people who I admired from a distance, never had the need to tell him, and he did not need to be told. His was a presence, both on the fireground and in the fire stations. When a chief officer visits firefighters get busy fast, usually anywhere but where the chief is, but not when Chief Wentworth made the rounds. He was one of us, and high above us simultaneously. He liked to listen to his men, more than hearing himself talk. But when he did talk, oh the stories he could tell! The man was the personification of a dignified firefighter, and one of the people responsible for the nationwide reputation of excellence The Providence Firefighters enjoy to this day. He died last month, years after retiring, in a tragic accident at home. When he lived, he did what came naturally to him, and what was natural to him created an indelible mark on my career as a firefighter, and anybody who had the privilege to work with him as well. The great ones will never be forgotten, and Chief Wentworth will live on in the deeds of his firefighters for generations. Maybe even forever. Image of Chief Wentworth (arm raised) and COD Michael Mouse courtesy of Eric Norberg.

Blog Status

medicscribe — Tue, 29 Jun 2021 17:31:21 +0000

Hi all- My blog is undergoing renovation. It may disappear for a few days, but hopefully will be back at the same address. Stay Tuned

Getting it Done

Michael Morse — Thu, 03 Jun 2021 19:37:31 +0000

We never needed much to get the job done. Just a willingness to do the little things so the big things were a little more managable . . . Once a month the "Supply Man," one of the senior firefighters who volunteered for the job would drop off some office supplies and a few boxes of Spick and Span, a tube or two of Bright Boy or some tins of Noxon Brass Polish, two gallons of ammonia and some new mop heads. Once a day we would use the ammonia to wash the floors in the common areas and dorm, twice a week we would find some rags, one crew would apply some Bright Boy to the poles, door knobs, kick plates and especially the Gamewell Bells, another would polish it off. Every Saturday, without exception we would move the apparatus out of the bays, soak the cement, spread the Spick and Span around the floor, use extra on the oil spots, then scrub every inch with hard bristle push brooms, rinse then squeegee dry. On Sundays the engine company would dump the bed, spread every inch of it onto the clean apparatus floor, replace the feeders and attack lines with last Sunday's inspected and scrubbed equipment, switch out the nozzles then scrub what we replaced. After rinsing the hoses would be flaked out, or hung to dry. Sometime during the week a crew would assemble and we would roll the dry hose and rack it. Every day, every week, every month, every minute a firefighter is preparing for the next one, whatever that one shall be. Doing the job, and getting it done doesn't just happen. Firefighters make it happen. In Omnia Paratis (in all things, prepared.)

Fire & Property Inspector - Village of Glen Ellyn - Deadline - 6/26/2021

erics — Thu, 03 Jun 2021 15:13:12 +0000

Village of Glen Ellyn - Community Development
Department Website:
https://www.glenellyn.org/
Job Position Title:
Fire & Property Inspector
Job Description Details:
The Village of Glen Ellyn’s Community Development Department is recruiting for one (1) full-time Fire & Property Inspector. The primary job duties of the Fire and Property Inspector include but are not limited to inspecting construction sites for compliance with applicable fire safety codes upon request; conducting annual inspections of commercial businesses and multi-family residential building common areas for compliance with fire, life-safety, property maintenance and zoning codes and ordinances; to re-inspect where violations are noted; to initiate and follow through on code enforcement activities as warranted; to maintain accurate records and reports of inspections; and to provide responsive, courteous and efficient service to Village residents, business owners and the general public. ESSENTIAL FUNCTIONS: • Inspect construction sites, new and existing buildings, structures, and properties for compliance with the Village’s fire, life-safety, property maintenance, building and zoning codes and ordinances. • Perform inspections of new and existing businesses for fire and life-safety code compliance as part of the Village’s annual business registration program. • Re-inspect to assure compliance. • Document locations and conditions of hazardous material storage. Inspect such properties to ensure to ensure compliance with applicable codes, laws and regulations. • Update and maintain records of building ownership, tenancies, construction types, occupancy use, fire alarm and fire sprinkler systems, etc. • Determine occupancy load for commercial properties, prepare and issue occupancy load placards. • Assist with building and sign inspections as needed. • Work with building and business owners to develop and/or review fire exit plans. • Work with building and business owners to ensure that required testing of fire alarm and fire suppression systems is performed. Maintain records of testing. • Enter information from code enforcement cases and fire safety inspections into the Village’s computer software. • Write letters to inform property owners of violations on their property. • Prepare, issue and maintain record copies of inspections performed. • Prepare reports as directed on a regular basis related to work activities or building conditions. • Perform related clerical duties; compile accurate monthly reports. • Issue violation notices and perform follow-up inspections as required to achieve code compliance. • Issue citations when appropriate, prepare case files and testify at administrative and Circuit Court hearings. • Respond to complaints and inquires by citizens. • Determine if the Certificate of Occupancy and Occupancy Load placards are properly displayed in public areas. • Inspect businesses whenever the use, occupancy or floor plan is changed. • Perform related clerical duties of filing and ordering forms and labels. • Perform plan reviews and inspections on fire alarm and fire suppression systems QUALIFICATION REQUIREMENTS: • Completed Associate’s degree, Completed Bachelor’s degree preferable. • Certification as Fire Inspector I, through the International Code Council or the Illinois Office of the State Fire Marshall required within one year of hire. • Certification as Property Maintenance & Housing Inspector, through the International Code Council or the Illinois Office of the State Fire Marshall required within one year of hire. • Minimum of two (2) years of fire technology and building enforcement experience or experience in a public building or fire department performing plan reviews, and/or performing building and property maintenance inspections. • Ability to take control of situations and respond to complaints and grievances. • Ability to comprehend, retain and apply Village, State, and Federal policies and legislation, i.e. Village ordinances, procedure manuals, fire codes, etc. • Effective in managing one’s time, solving problems and exercising sound judgment in a multi-tasking environment. • Detail oriented. • General knowledge of building permit processes, building codes and construction technology and terminology. • General knowledge of reading blueprints and related construction documents. • Excellent verbal and written communications skills. • A valid Illinois motor vehicle operator’s license. SALARY/BENEFITS: The pay offered for this full-time, non-exempt position is $50,785/annually to $77,181/annually DOQ. The Position includes excellent fringe benefits, including participation in the Illinois Municipal Retirement Fund (IMRF) pension plan. Actual starting salary is negotiable, and will be dependent upon qualifications, experience, and professional achievement. HOW TO APPLY: 1. Interested candidates should submit an employment application (click here), a resume and cover letter to applicants@glenellyn.org. Hard copies (faxed, mailed, hand-delivered) of resumes will be declined. 2. Applicants must indicate (Job ID: #23-21 Fire & Property Inspector) in the subject line of their e-mail. 3. The selected finalist will be required to successfully pass a pre-employment criminal background check, reference check, and a post-offer medical physical with a drug screen. 4. The position is open until filled; however, first review of resumes will begin June 11, 2021. Candidates requiring reasonable accommodations under the Americans with Disabilities Act should contact Human Resources at 630-469-5000. THE VILLAGE OF GLEN ELLYN IS AN EQUAL OPPORTUNITY EMPLOYER
Job Opening Date:
05/26/2021
Job Deadline Date:
06/26/2021
Upload Flyer:
Fire-Property-Inspector-5-2021.pdf

Everything is political. Except the work.

Michael Morse — Thu, 27 May 2021 23:22:39 +0000

“Everything is political.” If I had a dollar for every time I heard that I could start a bonfire. The job is definitely political. Thankfully, the work is not. There are no asses to kiss, no quotas to fill, no people to appease or right things to say. There is only the work. It stares you down and dares you to attack it. It does not care who you are, who you know, what you know or how you identify. It simply is. And it will grow, and strengthen, and destroy everything in its path. Until it meets people doing their job. Whether or not those people have what it takes to do the job is the only thing that matters. People who are not afraid to sacrifice all to get the job done are not politicians, or political appointees. They are people with fire in their hearts, and ice water in their veins, and honor, purpose and integrity in their brains. Those people are firefighters. Real Firefighters. Image courtesy of Tom Carmody

1800 hrs.

Michael Morse — Fri, 21 May 2021 18:59:55 +0000

Night shift started at 1800 hrs. but most of us came in an hour early. The ones who didn't came in even earlier. Didn't want to miss anything. After turning in the pack, relieving your man and telling your officer, "I'm with you," we would gather in the day room and talk. It never took long for things to go downhill, and our favorite targets were the slobs going home and the slackers relieving us in the morning. When we grew tired of picking on people who weren't there we would pick on each other. Never have I laughed so hard, or so freely as I did at those tables, when grown adults tasked with keeping our community safe were behind closed doors where nobody could hear us, and we were able to just be ourselves, and do what people who knew all to well how quickly it all could change do. We kept it light, and waited for the bell to tip, made dinner, made fun of dinner but ate it all anyway, cleaned up after ourselves until one by one the group moved on, some to call home, some to call it a day, others to stand on the ramp and solve the problems of the world. When it was time, we all got back together, put on our gear and out the door in less than a minute, ready for whatever waited. When whatever it was that called was done, no matter how difficult, we came back home, sometimes talked a little, sometimes just went back to the rack to wait for the next one. Or morning. Whatever came first. Life in the firehouse is a life like no other. To experience it is to experience how to live. Really live.

Image of The Lasalle Square Fire Station, my first assignment out of the 42nd Academy, Special Hazards 1, January, 1992. The building is gone, but the memories live on.

Firefighter/Paramedic - Wilmington Fire Protection District - Deadline: 6/3/2021

erics — Mon, 10 May 2021 16:45:39 +0000

Fire Department
Wilmington Fire Protection District
Department Website:
http://www.wilmingtonfire.org/
Job Position Title:
Full Time Firefighter/Paramedic
Job Description Details:
The Wilmington Fire Protection District is seeking qualified applicants to establish an eligibility list for the position of Firefighter/Paramedic with the District. Starting Salary: $53,500.00 QUALIFICATIONS • Applicant must be at least 21 years of age and under 35 years of age at the time of submission of an application unless otherwise provided by state or federal law • Be a citizen of the United States • Have a high school diploma or equivalent (GED) • Possess a valid class B non CDL driver’s license in the State of Illinois • Be certified as a Basic Operations Firefighter or Firefighter II through the Office of the State Fire Marshall in the State of Illinois • Be certified as a Paramedic in the State of Illinois (IDPH EMT-P) Applications will be available to qualified candidates May 6th – June 3rd between the hours of 8:30am-4:30pm, Monday-Friday at Station #1, 501 N. Main Street, Wilmington, IL. $30 non-refundable processing fee (Cash/check only) is due upon receipt of application. A valid driver’s license must be presented in order to obtain an application. Only one application per candidate will be given. Completed application shall be returned to the above address no later than 4:30 pm on June 3rd, 2021. Failure to complete the application in its entirety shall be grounds for rejection from the process. Applicants must attend the following: • Orientation/Written Exam: Friday June 4th, 2021 at 6 pm Sharp (No one will be allowed in the room after 6 pm) • Oral Interviews: June 7th and June 9th. • Physical Ability: Must have a CPAT card with ladder climb issued no more than 365 days prior to conditional offer. The Rules and Regulations of the Board of Fire Commissioners, Wilmington Fire Protection District, will govern all facets of the hiring process, a copy of which is available for viewing at the District’s Station#1. If you have any questions please call (815)-476-6675. Wilmington Fire Protection District 501 N. Main Street Wilmington IL. 60481
Job Opening Date:
05/06/2021
Job Deadline Date:
06/03/2021
Upload Flyer:
May-2021-FT-Hire-Qualification-Information.pdf
Department Logo:

Libertyville Fire Department - Firefighter/Paramedic - Deadline June 21st 2021

erics — Thu, 06 May 2021 21:28:18 +0000

Libertyville Fire Department

Firefighter/Paramedic

Examination

The Libertyville Fire Department is accepting applications for the position of Firefighter/Paramedic. Applicants must meet the following minimum requirements and qualifications at the time of application submittal deadline:

United States citizen or Naturalized citizen.
Must be at least 21 years old and maximum age of 34 years (except as otherwise provided by state law).
Graduation from high school or equivalent thereof.
Possess a valid driver’s license.
Successful completion of the Candidate Physical Ability Test (CPAT) which includes the required State of Illinois "ladder climb" portion from an approved agency no more than 12 months prior to taking the written examination.
Currently certified as a Basic Operations Fire Fighter or Firefighter II under the State of Illinois, Division of Personnel Standards and Education.
Minimally a, Illinois Department of Public Health (IDPH) EMT-B in good standing by the State of Illinois pursuant to applicable statutes and regulations at the time of application.

Those interested in applying can request a fillable pdf application and further instructions via email by sending a request to firedepartment@libertyville.com . Include your full name, phone number, and address in your email. Completed applications must be submitted in person to Libertyville Fire Station #1 located at 1551 N. Milwaukee Avenue in Libertyville no later than Monday, June 21st, 2021 at 4 p.m. Applications can be submitted during normal business hours, Monday-Friday between 8 a.m. and 4 p.m. Completed applications must be accompanied with all required documentation. No Exceptions. The Village of Libertyville is an EOE. Full job applications can be found here: http://www.libertyville.com/jobs.aspx

Manhandled

Michael Morse — Sat, 01 May 2021 20:25:24 +0000

Manhandle man·han·dle, verb move (a heavy object) by hand with great effort. "seven guys had to manhandle the piano down the stairs" Similar: heave haul push shove pull tug drag move carry lift maneuver hump lug handle (someone) roughly by dragging or pushing. Sometimes a person needs to be manhandled. It is the ugly elephant in the room of public safety. None of us begins our shift hoping to manhandle anybody. The less manhandling we do, the happier we are. There is no training for manhandling, sometimes all the training we do is useless, and primal strength and violence becomes necessary. Manhandling is the next to last resort, saved for when all else has failed; -reasoning -negotiating -gently moving -lifting -dragging -pushing -tackling -using every bit of restraint training ever taught to keep a person from attacking, running into traffic, driving away from scene in an effort to elude capture, stabbing, punching, spitting on, beating, injuring or killing themselves, a bystander or yourself. Sometimes good people having a bad day get manhandled. Sometimes people having a medical emergency get manhandled. Sometimes, a person who needs to be manhandled does not get manhandled and proceeds to kill somebody, or themselves. If not for people willing to manhandle aggressive, homicidal, dangerous and out of control people, regular people ill equipped to handle people in need of manhandling would be at the mercy of mayhem far more often than they can imagine. If society continues to glorify criminal behavior, and condemn rough treatment of people in crisis who are lashing out, and demand justice every time something bad happens to a person society will have a lot more than being manhandled to contend with, of that I am absolutely certain. To maintain a peaceful society we need a strong arm when all else fails, and all else fails all the time. Maintaing peace when confronted with sheer madness is anything but peaceful.

Naloxone and Cardiac Arrest: New Scientific Paper from AHA

medicscribe — Mon, 26 Apr 2021 16:08:52 +0000

In 2010, the American Heart Association wrote “naloxone has no role in the management of cardiac arrest.” This came as a surprise to many medics who routinely gave naloxone to cardiac arrests patients suspected of opioid overdoses, and may come as a surprise to many medics who continue this practice. The idea against using naloxone is fairly simple. If the opioid overdose caused the cardiac arrest, the cause of death is hypoxia. Naloxone can reverse apnea in patients who are still alive, but naloxone cannot undo a hypoxic death. Patients in cardiac arrest from opioid overdoses need to get their hearts started with epinephrine, and they need to be ventilated. All naloxone can do is put the patient in withdrawal should they be resuscitated with ACLS drugs. What about ventilation? That’s what ambu-bags are for. In their new March 2021 paper, Opioid-Associated Out-of-Hospital Cardiac Arrest: Distinctive Clinical Features and Implications for Health Care and Public Responses: A Scientific Statement From the American Heart Association, the AHA maintains this same position. They write: “naloxone does not have a likely benefit in patients with confirmed CA who are receiving standard resuscitation, including assisted ventilation, and there are some reasons to suspect that this practice may cause harm by increasing cerebral metabolic demand at a time of hypoxemia and acidosis.” They also write “If the patient is definitely pulseless and receiving standard resuscitation, including assisted ventilation, naloxone is unlikely to be beneficial. Because there is a theoretical basis for harm, standard resuscitation alone is indicated.” Where the 2021 protocols differ from the 2010 is the distinction for lay people and for medical responders who are unable to determine if a patient is truly pulseless. In these situations, the AHA says, and I agree, “Clearly, some patients present with respiratory arrest and faint or difficult-to-palpate pulses; these patients are likely to benefit from naloxone” and “Opioid antagonism… is always reasonable and should be delivered along with CPR when it is uncertain whether the patient is pulseless.” Bottom Line: Paramedics should not deliver naloxone to patients in cardiac arrest once they confirm with palpation and their monitor, a patient is in cardiac arrest. It will do no good, and may cause harm. Laypeople and BLS providers should deliver naloxone to patients whose pulses they cannot feel and who they have reason to believe might have pulses. The benefits here outweigh the harms. I am doing some research on this issue with Connecticut SWORD data base and can report that it is quite common for both lay people and first responders to do CPR and administer naloxone to patients, who are found to have pulses on paramedic arrival. Failure to deliver naloxone to these patients on the grounds they were in cardiac arrest would definitely have been harmful. I can also tell you as a street paramedic, I have found apneic and pulseless to my palpation patients who, on attachment to my monitor, were found in narrow complex tachycardias, and who responded well to an ambu-bag and naloxone.

Delivering En Caul on A Call - A Paramedic's Rare OB Experience

Ckemtp — Wed, 21 Apr 2021 15:45:30 +0000

*record scratch* You may be wondering how I found myself in this position, stopped along the side of a busy highway in the back of a brightly-lit ambulance at just past 4 in the morning. I was straddling the foot end of a stretcher, crouched in a Catcher’s position with one hand hopelessly snarled in an ill-fitting sterile glove and the other trying to paw at the Ovomorph that just had landed between my knees. In front of me was a very concerned young lady who had just delivered her fourth child sans anesthetic. To my left was my very concerned-looking partner Dustin who was witnessing his first field delivery in his 15 years on the job. Me myself? I was giving this whole situation a solid seven on the Weird-Stuff o’meter and silently pondering my life choices. [caption id="attachment_3289" align="alignright" width="300"] Y'know, an "ovomorph." One of these things[/caption] I had never witnessed an En Caul Birth before. Heck, I’ll admit that I didn’t even know what an En Caul Delivery was. I’m not really ashamed about it either. None of my EMS and Paramedic education had touched on the super rare occurrence that is an En Caul birth. I had no idea what this squirmy pinkish-yellow water balloon looking thing that had landed between my legs was and all I could think of was how much of a mess it was going to make when I had to rip it open to get the baby out. Back to the call in question, it had started out like any other OB call we get on the ambulance. We were sent out on a 911 call for a 24-Delta-3 Imminent Delivery at about 4-o’clock in the morning on some random Tuesday. We go to women in labor calls fairly often, and in my decades of doing this I’ve only actually delivered six or so in the field. Dustin, who had 15 years on the job had never delivered one. As sleepy as we were on this particular morning after being ran hard throughout our twenty-four hour shift, we were very much hoping that this call would be like so many of the others and would not be adding another hash-mark next to the stork sticker on our ambulance. Births are messy. I’d like to say that “ain’t nobody dying or multiplying in the back of my rig” and If that were possible, I’d have that policy in a second. If you’ve never been the pusher or the catcher of a delivery you may not know that while it is a beautiful and miraculous process, the housekeeping staff rarely feels that way after all of the more glory-filled jobs have been taken care of. Births are messy, as I’ve said, and after the debacle I had with Dustin a few weeks prior to this when he didn’t take my advice and spread the impervious plastic yellow sheet on the cot when we had a lady whose water broke during transport, I wasn’t up for the task of spraying the cot and the floor of the ambulance off with a hose again that early in the morning. So while he asked the lady questions and assessed her, being as we run a dual-paramedic truck and it was his turn to be in charge, I made sure to spread out the yellow-sheet and put down a couple of chux. Oh, how prophetic this was. It turned out the patient had been sent home from the hospital earlier that day with the diagnosis of Braxton Hicks contractions. It was her fourth pregnancy (G4/P4) and her contractions hadn’t stopped since she’d been discharged. In fact, they were about 3 to 5 minutes apart when we found her, and they were lasting a while… like 45 seconds to a minute. Dustin remained unconvinced that we were going to deliver, but I was considering staying at the house in order to keep the ambulance cleaner. The thing was though, she hadn’t broken her water yet, so I was still leaning towards there being a chance we could make it to her OB hospital of choice 25 minutes away. So we loaded her up, sitting her on a blanket that covered the chux pad and the impervious yellow blanket, and put her into the ambulance. I asked one of the intrepid members of the Engine Company if they would drive for us so we could both be in the back and as always, the fire guy was happy to oblige. We got going and everything was going well… until it wasn’t. “It’s burning! It’s burning! Why is it burning!?” the patient exclaimed… and I, knowing exactly why it was burning but hoping I was wrong, took a look at the business end of things to see if anything was coming out. What I saw confused and startled me. I went to Paramedic school back in the 1990s. Back when ACLS was still difficult and Medics were supposed to be Medics. Our class was exhaustive, we were told. However, unless I slept through that particular part of class and unless I happened to subsequently sleep through that part of every bit of OB and Childbirth education I’ve had in the decades since, I had never been prepared for what I saw coming out of this lady. Instead of a hairy top of a newborn head, I saw this off-white bubble looking thing. It was like she was blowing a bubble out of… there… I realized that it had to be the amniotic sac, but I had no idea that this was a thing that could be happening to a human. Dustin, and bless him for this, actually did know what this was, and said “Ohhhh it’s coming out En Caul.” What now? I suppose I could be forgiven for not knowing about something that happens in roughly 1 out of 80,000 births. (https://emergencymedicalminute.com/a-rare-package-delivery/) I mean, I still learn every day in this job, but usually I have some idea what I’m looking at when I see it. I read a lot… and to be completely caught off my guard is a novel experience these days. But in my sleep-deprived brain, Dustin’s next statement was not worthy of being blessed. He had opened the OB kit and handed me a pair of sterile gloves. “You’re supposed to put these on” he said. I was just a little perturbed at the guy for not jumping in and experiencing the miracle of his first field delivery first hand like he should have, and even more perturbed by the fact that this was technically *his* call so I shouldn’t be the one getting my uniform damp, but I digress. I mistakenly grabbed the sterile gloves, took one of my gloves off, and attempted to put the sterile glove on my right hand. Luckily I had only taken one glove off, because you all know what happened next. There was a loud “schlleurruept” sound and the baby was out, fully encased in the amniotic sac like a squirmy yellowish-pink jelly bean and there I was with one glove on my left hand and my fingers hopelessly snarled up in the glove I had been trying to put on my right hand thus rendering me a one-armed man at a fetal-balloon-popping contest. I had no idea what to do. Dustin, forever helpful, handed me an umbilical clamp that had a spike on it that he said was meant to rupture the sac. As I sat there fruitlessly pawing at the lump of fluid with my one good hand, this also seemed like a good idea. It was not. The spike on the umbilical clamp *did* poke a hole in the amniotic sac. However all this did was to shoot a pressurized stream of amniotic fluid up towards my face from the small hole it made. So now I’ve got the alien birthing pod spraying at me with amniotic fluid, I’ve got my one goofy hand all snarled up in a useless now not sterile glove and I’ve got my other hand so darn slippery it was helpless to do anything. Thankfully, shortly thereafter the balloon popped and while my uniform pants needed a good washing, the baby was removed and was immediately kicking and crying just like she was supposed to be. We put her up to Mom for some good old-fashioned skin-to-skin contact, and then delivered the placenta like the textbook said we should. After that, everything proceeded according to plan. Last I heard the mother and the baby are doing fine. I asked her if she would name it after me but I haven’t heard back about that. And now for some EMS education. Here’s what I learned: An “en caul” birth, as stated above, is exceedingly rare with only 1 in approximately 80,000 humans being born that way. Most are born via c-section just because they happen to be taken out that way, and a vaginal en caul birth is extremely rare. If there are about 4-million live births in the US each year, about 50 of them would be birthed en caul. To have one in the ambulance on the side of the highway is a moonshot of a chance. Luckily there are rarely any complications associated with this rare event. It is safer not to use sharp objects to pierce the amniotic sac, but in my personal experience that sac is MUCH tougher to break with just my fingers than I thought it would be, goofy-gloved hand notwithstanding. Next time Dustin’s going to catch. I’ll be up front driving. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ If you’re looking for actual education on en caul births, here’s something from an actual medical journal that’s not just an EMS blog: “Vaginal Cephalic Delivery En Caul and Subsequent Postpartum Intraventricular Hemorrhage and Respiratory Distress: A Teaching Case”

Chasing The Flash - Part 3 of 3 By Retired Captain Tracy Moore

triplefrescue — Mon, 19 Apr 2021 14:08:58 +0000

Welcome back for the conclusion of this three-part blog. Last time ended when Eddie, worried I was out to get him, transferred to a different firehouse. With Eddie gone we were assigned a tramp each following shift to take his place. A tramp in Minneapolis is a term for a firefighter, female or male, sent to a different station than their regular assignment. My tramp for the day was Joe, who had a side gig refinishing wood floors. I was in the middle of a massive remodel at home. In an attempt to find some common ground, I mentioned the reclaimed wood floors I was having installed. “Sweet,” Joe said. “I’d love to take a look and give you a bid.” “We already have our floor guy.” I said. “Sweet,” he said again. “Still, I’d love to come take a look.” I talked to our contractor to see if we could switch. Next, I discussed hiring Joe with my partner. She was hesitant but I was persistent. I remember saying, “I have to use my firefighter brother.” She gave in and Joe came to ‘take a look’. He ripped up part of the floor and after saying ‘sweet’ several times he scribbled a bid on his official floor business stationary. We had a beer on the patio. We found a time slot that would work with the remodel schedule and we hired Joe. I remember thinking, this will smooth things over at the station. And it did, for a while. It was fun having Joe in the backseat. We talked about floors and I shared pictures of our incoming countertops and our amazing maple island. He wore his mask at car fires and I ate with the crew at dinner. On the day Joe was scheduled to rip up the old floor and install the new one, his employee showed up at my house. He let me know he would get started and Joe would be there later for the install. I retreated to the basement. Thirty minutes later his employee knocked on the basement door. “I called Joe,” he said. “We’re gonna walk away from the job.” I assumed he meant they couldn’t work on it today and would finish tomorrow. He continued, “It’s a harder job than we thought. We’re not coming back.” I went to the basement and called Joe. “Joe your guy says you’re not doing the job. You realize I scheduled you in. I fought with my partner to get you this job.” “What do you want me to say?” “I want you to say you’re going to do what you said you would do.” I admit my voice was not calm. Joe hung up. I called my friend, also a firefighter and in law school. “He can’t do that,” she said. “He’s doing it.” “No. I mean it’s against the,” (insert legal terms) “you can sue him. Is the guy still there?” I ran to the window and saw he was, sitting in his truck in the driveway. My friend said, “Turn on your phone recorder and go talk to him about what just happened.” I did it. I didn’t think I’d sue but my friend is smart, so I recorded our conversation. I called and texted Joe trying to work something out. I hired the original floor guy again but now he had to postpone another job and it was going to cost me. It put our remodel back a week and it put me in the doghouse. Joe ignored my calls and texts. I was mad. I knew Joe would never treat a brother the way he was treating me. I felt dismissed. I sued and I won. Yes, I sued my firefighter brother. Shortly after, I got a text from Bettie, the same woman who voted against me at the union meeting. Is money worth so much to you that you would sue our brother? She wrote. I felt misunderstood, shamed. Sometimes I wish I had made a different choice. Suing Joe changed my career. Not a lot, I got paid the same. I put out fires and saved lives. I had always been treated somewhat less than, which continued. I still fooled myself and chased the flash, but not as much. I no longer believed I could be part of the team. Especially when the bullying started. The bullying from the brotherhood on Facebook and on the fireground went on for a year. The membership rallied around Joe suggesting they collect the money he owed me in pennies. Some went so far to make racial comments (I was leading a fire academy for young people in the East African community) by suggesting they should collect shillings. No one asked: why did our brother break his commitment to a firefighter. Is it because the firefighter is a woman? Maybe no one asked because we already know it is the reason. Women are valued less and we, not only in the fire department but in our society, accept it. We let it slide. I wasn’t sure I would be able to continue at the fire department. I transferred to a slow station, out of the action and into the quiet. And then the energy suddenly shifted. It was like the flash reflecting a shiny object in the distance. One of the men defended me on the Facebook-bully comment stream, and then the bullying stopped. One comment. He wrote, ‘She won the lawsuit, maybe she’s right.’ I’m thankful for him. I felt like I caught the flash without chasing it. The little energy it must have required for him to stand up for me and the huge impact he had baffles me. I wish we didn’t need the good guys to stand up. I wish we could see that it is not gender that gives us the courage and the ability to fight a fire. It’s heart. No matter how often women show we belong; the fire department is steadfast in tradition to prove we don’t. The good guys must stand up. Good guys don’t stand by and let bullies, bully. I wish the good guys would be good guys. All of them—everyday. It’s where men can be heroes and not just firefighters. Why limit us as brothers or sisters? While the brotherhood excludes us, sisterhood keeps us separate. It will be a flashy fine day when we finally become the sibling-hood. Please share a time when one comment or small act performed by you or someone else made a difference. Captain Tracy Moore is a retired Minneapolis firefighter and the author of the soon to be released novel, The Fire She Fights. Find out more at thefireshefights.com

Chasing The Flash - Part 2 of 3 - By retired Captain Tracy Moore

triplefrescue — Mon, 19 Apr 2021 13:57:28 +0000

[caption id="attachment_7369" align="alignnone" width="300"] Photo courtesy of Scott Carnahan, Fire Wire[/caption] I value kindness most. I often find kindness in conflict with what I value second, truth. I mentioned a story of revenge in my last post. What does revenge have to do with kindness? Months after refusing to participate in the unsafe hose training drill, I was assigned to an engine company at a new station. The station also housed a ladder company. I was the lone woman at the station, but I felt—now more than ever, liked. I had stood up and done some good for the sisterhood and for my brothers. The training had been modified and because of me, we were all safer. I began to wonder if some disagreed with my stance when we responded to a warehouse fire. The fire was small. We couldn’t access it because the fire was behind wooden boxes, piled on shelves close to the ceiling. My firefighter, Eddie opened the nozzle. I supported him from behind holding the hose (following OSHA standards- I realize this is a shameless jab – see part one). Eddie sprayed the boxes, unable to hit the fire. The fire accelerated. I suggested to Eddie that he direct the stream at the ceiling to ricochet the water over the boxes and let them onto the flames like a waterfall. Eddie continued spraying the waterlogged box. The fire grew. Thinking he couldn’t hear through his mask I yelled, “Hit the ceiling.” Eddie continued to spray the box. I reached for the nozzle to guide his aim. He turned his body and sprayed the box. The fire grew. My radio chirped. The chief requested a progress report. “Eddie hit the fuckin’ ceiling,” I ordered. Eddie continued to spray the box and finally the box dropped into the fire. The fire raged with new fuel. After the box was out of the way, Eddie couldn’t help but hit the ceiling Water cascaded from the ceiling and the fire went out. I keyed my mike to give my report. “Incident command—Captain Moore. Progress report. Fire’s out.” I let go of the transmit button, looked into Eddie’s eyes and said, “Finally.” Outside while we picked up the hose, I approached Eddie planning to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Could you not hear me in there?” “I heard you. I know what I’m doing.” “Next time, even if you know what you’re doing, follow my order.” “Because you’re so good at following orders?” He had a point. I didn’t like his point. I felt misunderstood by his point, but I did realize he had a point. I dropped it. Our next shift we responded to a car fire. The car was parked next to a curb far from any possible exposure, but it was fully involved. The car glowed blue, black smoke spilled toward the ground and flames lit up the sky. Eddie retrieved the nozzle from the hose bed. I donned my mask and reached for the nozzle. In Eddie-like fashion, he turned his body to protect the nozzle and squeezed tight. “We have plenty of time. It’s not going anywhere. I promise I won’t put out your fire. I’m just gonna hold it while you put your mask on.” “I’m not putting my mask on.” I had heard the machismo argument to not wear a mask for an outside car fire, but I also knew the science. Breathing in toxins from a car fire were survivable in the moment, but they would rest in your lungs and remind you of your stupidity later. “Eddie, it’s an order. Put your mask on.” “I know what I’m doing. I’m not wearing my mask.” Eddie advanced close to the car fire, breathing in the toxic smoke and opened the nozzle. When we got back to the station, I chose to approach Eddie with compassionate reason— kindness I thought. “Listen, you got kids. You need to wear your mask.” Eddie didn’t argue. I interpreted his silence as agreement. During the night I was awakened by lightning flashing through the dorm window. The boom of thunder and the pelting of heavy rain let us all know; we would be called out soon for a weather-related emergency. I drifted back to sleep. Next, I woke to florescent lights, followed by the squeal of the intercom. “Engine 21 to wires down in the alley at 1740 Minnehaha.” The driver parked the rig at the end of the alley, blocking traffic. It was just before dawn and sitting in the rig I couldn’t see down the alley. I donned my helmet and walked through rain along the alley and found branches on the ground. A potentially live wire dangled from the power line. Speaking into my radio, I instructed Eddie to mark the alley with ‘Fire Line, Do Not Cross’ tape. The sun was rising, and I worried about potential homeowners coming from their houses to go to work. I instructed Eddie to stand guard on his side of the branches. The rain was reduced to a light drizzle. I stood guard on the opposite side while we waited for the power company to respond. As night lifted and dawn fell, I noticed a silhouette cross the yard on Eddie’s side. When the person continued into the ally I peered through the branches and saw no sign of Eddie. The silhouette approached the branches and I shouted, “Minneapolis Fire. We have a live wire, go back inside your house.” The homeowner immediately did an about face and hurried inside. Someone knows how to follow an order, I thought. The power company truck arrived and crept down the alley. I relayed my report to the driver, and he assessed the dangling power line. “Yup, it’s a live one,” he confirmed. But it didn’t matter. I would have been pissed either way. I searched the ally for Eddie and saw him sitting in the back of the fire engine. Now I was furious. His disregard of my orders put a civilian at risk. I wrote Eddie up. Meaningless paperwork but I realized, his insubordination was becoming a habit and I needed to start a paper trail. I overheard him talking to another male firefighter who warned him that I was out to get him. Eddie put in a transfer and moved to a different station. Eddie was well-liked and the guys weren’t happy about his transfer. He wasn’t exceptional in any way or super friendly or kind, but Eddie was one of the boys. Something I could never be. What happened next made me realize, no matter how extraordinary or friendly or kind I am—as a woman I will always be treated as less. I was approached by the captain on the ladder truck. “The guys decided—it’s not my decision and I don’t agree with it but you’re out of the clutch.” (A firehouse term for eating dinner together). He continued, “You don’t eat what we eat, and no one wants to make special stuff for you.” I knew he was referring to the fact that I was a vegetarian, but I pushed it. “The camaraderie matters to me. I’ll pay the full price and eat the sides,” I said. *** During our next shift the customary dinner time had passed, and no one had started cooking. When I inquired, I didn’t quite get the cold shoulder, but shrugged shoulders felt the same. When my stomach started to grumble an hour later, I made a sandwich and ate alone. Twenty minutes later pizza was delivered to the station. The guys crowded around the table for their pizza clutch. I scraped a chair across the floor and sat in the middle of the men at the table. I reached into the pizza box, grabbed a slice and picked off the meat—piece by piece. I took a bite of my cheese pizza and looked up at the quiet faces staring. I smiled and said, “Who wants my pepperoni?”

***

While we didn’t quite get to the revenge in part two, we are on our way. Part three brings us full circle. I hope you’ll be back next week for the conclusion of Chasing the Flash. In the meantime, please add your comments below. Have you felt dismissed or excluded because you’re a woman? What did you do about it and what do you think we can do to make our important voices heard? I’d love to hear your story. The Fire She Fights by author Tracy Moore, a novel featuring four women firefighters, blazes onto bookshelves fall 2021. Find out more at Thefireshefights.com

CK!!! IF YOU CAN HEAR ME... BLINK TWICE!!

Ckemtp — Fri, 16 Apr 2021 22:49:02 +0000

*Blink* ... ... ... *blink* Hello everyone. If you're reading this (and by the webcounting machine about two to three thousand people still are each month), you might be surprised to be seeing some activity here on the blog. Well maybe I'm surprised too. It's been a long hiatus, almost six years... but I've decided. It has to come back. I've got to start writing again. I need to. Not because I'm good at writing, and not because my opinion is any more or less valid than anyone else's opinions out there... but because *I* need to. I've got stuff to say and this is the best way I know how to get it out there. So I've defibrillated the blog. I will be pumping it full of enough Epi to achieve ROSC in a carrot over the next few weeks or months and hopefully I'm going to see a survival to discharge benefit with a high enough CPC score that you'll not only read this post, you'll read some more. I'll be refreshing everything, repurposing old content and removing some of the fluff and low-effort posts from the last decade or so. I'd really like to focus on EMS and my perspective of being one of the older guys out there still doing it. Back in 2009 when I started this blog, I wasn't exactly young and idealistic... and now 11 years later I'm even less young... but maybe still a bit idealistic. If you're reading this, thank you. Check back. Find me on the social media and yell at me to keep this going. I need the support and you don't know how much I appreciate it. Thanks everyone. I'm calling it. This unit is Back in Service. Returning.

Get Out As Soon As You Can

Michael Morse — Thu, 15 Apr 2021 13:42:10 +0000

"I'm down here!" We followed the voice into the basement, it was difficult, spider webs, dust mites, rat droppings and garbage slowed our progress. Human waste is worse than all of those things combined, and it nearly overwhelmed me as I worked my way toward a small light shining under a door at the far end, some twenty-five feet away. She was in a makeshift room in the corner, near the sump pump, cement floor, curtain walls, no light in her cubicle except for a tiny desk lamp sitting in the corner. She had a mattress, but it was thin, and nothing but dirty sheets and an old tablecloth covered it. "What's wrong?" I asked, knowing that I would never be able to comprehend it all. "Are they gone?" she asked, timidly. "You are the only person here," I told her and extended a hand. She took it bravely and we walked her out of her dungeon. Once in the ambulance the story flowed from her. She had escaped a terrible situation in Africa, and a relative lived in Providence, and would let her live with him-as long as they were married. So she was married. And her husband's son raped her every night for two years. Night after night. Sometimes with his friends, sometimes with her husband. She was sixteen years old when I met her. And still pretty. But not as pretty as she should have been. Seldom am I speechless. It is as if my inability to speak traps what I'm feeling inside, and those emotions seep into a part of my brain that seldom is used. I wonder if she has such a place. I wonder how she found the courage to call us. I wonder what happened to her husband and nephew. I do not wonder why I never took the time to find out. Some things are better off lost in that part of my brain that I seldom allow to function. Footnote: Something pervades your consciousness after responding to calls like I described in my previous post. Something dark. Something desperate. Something bordering on evil. After years of responding to similar things, worse things, unbelievable things your willingness to believe that life is good, and things work out, and there is a plan is sorely tested. Optimism is replaced with cynicism, good humor becomes sarcasm, smiles become sneers, a drink turns into a binge and loving relationships are strained. "You've changed" echoes in our head, rather than "you have grown." Fun is rare, always with a suspicious edge, unearned guilt and impending doom. If systems are to change, and the people responding to emergencies are to be stripped of their legal protections for the good of the community, and increased funding for mental health programs, paid time off and increased training are not part of a long range plan I strongly suggest that the good people who are beginning their public safety careers find a better way. And those stuck in the middle or nearing the end? Hang on with everything you have, and get out as soon as you can.

Men With Guns

medicscribe — Sun, 04 Apr 2021 13:26:49 +0000

I was a new paramedic. The senior medic briefed me. They took two guys out of a basement apartment with high carbon monoxide readings after a dryer caught on fire. Ones already on the way to the hospital for evaluation. Your patient is the guy over by the building door arguing with the police officer. He wants to go back in his apartment to get some items, and the officer won’t let him. Just then the man punched the officer in the jaw.. The officer threw the man against a car and put him in a headlock, and then handcuffed him. Instead of bringing him over to us to be evaluated, the officer put him into a squad car. “Asshole!” he shouted at the man. “Do you think he’s an asshole or do you think maybe carbon monoxide is making him act like an asshole?” I said to the other medic. “Shouldn’t we go over there and talk to him?” The medic shrugged, and said, “You can’t argue with a man with a gun.” The cop took him to the police station for booking and we cleared the scene “Patient item A (arrested).” Hours later we both happened to be in the hospital EMS room when a supervisor came in and told us the man had become increasingly altered at the police station and was rushed to the hospital where they found critically high carbon monoxide levels in his blood. “I’m glad it wasn’t my patient,” the senior medic said, without looking at me.. I spent the week worrying that I was going to get a phone call telling me my medical control had been taken away and I was finished as a paramedic. Fortunately, that call never came. That was over twenty-five years ago and I was still learning my way.. The episode taught me two lessons. Don’t rely on someone else to make the good decisions for you, and if you are there as a medic, you need to speak up on behalf of your patient, prisoner or not, asshole or not.. I am not saying that from that point on I always stood tall, but I was at least headed in the right direction. Over my twenty-five plus years as a paramedic, I have had clashes with police officers regarding patient care, less so as the years have gone by and police departments have become progressive, and possibly I have learned a calm, assertive manner. When I worked in a contract town, I was always getting called to evaluate prisoners for “jailitis.” There was pressure for me to tell the prisoners they were fine and did not need to go to the hospital. Sign here. If I insisted on them going to the hospital, the police department (PD) would have to send an officer along and the officer would have to wait as long as the prisoner was there, or until an officer from the next shift arrived to relieve him. The PD wanted to cover their liability by calling me so they could say they offered the prisoner medical help when asked, but they wanted me to shoulder the responsibility for the refusal of transport. I played it straight forward. If I thought the person was sick, I advised them to go to the hospital. If I thought they weren’t sick, I’d tell them what I believed, but always made clear if the patient requested to go to the hospital after my evaluation, I would fight for their right to be evaluated there. It would be up to the PD to refuse. I noticed sometimes the PD would wait till my shift was done and another (more pliant) medic was on to call for the prisoner evaluation. I have also responded to scenes where the police were sitting on patients, and I have always done my best to make certain that the person being sat on could breathe and that if they were going to be restrained, it would be in the safest manner possible. I prefer 10 mg of Versed to four point restraints and a spit shield. I have said clearly, “This man needs to be evaluated at the hospital.” The line the medic used that day-- “You can’t argue with a man with a gun”--I have heard many times over the years --medics explaining why they did not immediately treat a patient who needed care, or why an MVA victim was transported to jail instead of the hospital, only to later need an ambulance, or even a shooting victim was left to die because one of the officers wanted to tape the crime scene off to preserve evidence. A lesser known line from the Hippocratic Oath goes like this: “Into whatsoever houses I enter, I will enter to help the sick.” Remember when you are on a scene, you are not just John Paramedic, you descend from Hippocrates and all who have held his faith. We are advocates for our patients. We stand up for them, bad or good, rich or poor, white or black, asshole or not. You will have confrontations in this work. Stand tall. It’s okay to argue with the people with guns. They will respect you if you are professional and firm.

Jumpseat Radio 129 Taking care of your house

rpennington — Mon, 29 Mar 2021 13:03:11 +0000

Welcome Back

Primary Sponsor

Jumpseat Radio is a proud member of the Chief Miller Media Family

Instagram @Chief_Miller Instagram @ChiefMillerMedia Twitter @Chief_Miller_ Website https://www.chiefmillerapparel.com/

Support the podcast and cop you some merch:

Lansing Fire Department - Firefighter/Paramedic - Deadline: 4/8/2021

erics — Mon, 29 Mar 2021 15:08:39 +0000

Lansing Fire Department
Department Website:
https://www.villageoflansing.org/village_departments/fire_department/index.php
Job Position Title:
Firefighter/Paramedic
Job Description Details:
Village of Lansing Fire Department testing to establish an eligibility list for Firefighter/Paramedic Requirements: • Age 21-35 at time of test • U.S. Citizen • Valid Driver’s License • High School Diploma or GED • OSFM Basic Operations Firefighter AND EMT-Paramedic at time of application • Valid CPAT certification at time of application (must be dated between Apr. 17, 2020 and Apr. 17, 2021) • Meet all requirements set forth by the Board of Fire and Police Commission NO RESIDENCY REQUIRED Applications can be downloaded at www.villageoflansing.org Applications available 03/19/2021—04/05/2021 Applications MUST BE RETURNED by 5:00pm on April 8, 2021 to 3141 Ridge Rd., Lansing IL 60438 Mandatory orientation and written test: April 17, 2020 at 12:00. Additional testing information in application. Study guide will be provided when application is returned. Lansing population: 28,331 Starting salary: $60,023; $67,389 upon completion of probation. Multiple hires expected. 24/48 shift rotations with 10-day Kelly rotation. Competitive benefits including medical, dental, vision, and life insurance. Tuition assistance available. 2020 call volume: 5,537 UPDATED ENTRY LEVEL EXAM
Job Opening Date:
03/19/2021
Job Deadline Date:
04/08/2021
Upload Flyer:
LFD-Hiring-Notice-Mar-2021.pdf
Department Logo:

Bare Your Arms, My Country

medicscribe — Sun, 28 Mar 2021 22:18:48 +0000

It’s back. Two weeks ago, our hospital had 0 COVID patients admitted down from highs of 55 in April and 44 in December. Just like that we are back up to 12 in just a couple days. Elsewhere in Connecticut, the head coach of the woman’s top ranked basketball team missed the opening round of the NCAA tournament with COVID. Some girls my daughter plays basketball with had to quarantine due to exposure to people with COVID and on the COVID ACT Now, map, Connecticut has again turned red, signifying. From all I have read, the cause is likely the arrival of the COVID variants that are more infectious than the original COVID. We are all hoping that our high and ever increasing vaccination rate (33% 1^st dose/18.6% fully vaccinated) will soon overcome the variants, but we can’t be certain. Daily coronavirus updates: COVID-19 hospitalizations rising in Connecticut as variants spread; vaccine distribution skewed toward white residents I am worried about the number of people who are still refusing to get vaccinated. It was a huge relief for me to get my shots, and I hope others will soon make the decision to bare their arms for their country.

Podcast-Saving Lives and Learning a Lesson About Addiction

medicscribe — Fri, 26 Mar 2021 11:51:15 +0000

Just out, an interview I did with the Addiction Podcast about my new book, Killing Season; A Paramedic's Dispatches from the Front Lines of the Opioid Epidemic. Peter Canning – Saving Lives as a Paramedic and Learning A Lesson About Drug Addiction

Killing Season - 30% Off with Code

medicscribe — Wed, 24 Mar 2021 18:39:36 +0000

Opioid Epidemic/COVID Interview

medicscribe — Sun, 21 Mar 2021 17:54:17 +0000

An interview with me talking about the opioid epidemic in the shadows of the COVID pandemic appeared this morning on This Week in Connecticut with Dennis House. Local paramedic’s first-hand look at the deadly toll of drug use amid the pandemic Killing Season will be out on April 6, 2021. Preorder Killing Season

Two Reasons

medicscribe — Fri, 19 Mar 2021 01:25:11 +0000

By all accounts, the opioid overdose epidemic is getting worse. A recent study published in JAMA which analyzed emergency department visits (ED) found overdoses were up 29% from March to October of 2020 versus the same period for the previous year.

Opioid overdoses 29% higher in 2020 than before the pandemic: Study Fatal Unintentional Drug Overdose Report Key Findings of Drug Overdose Decedents, 2019 – January 2021 Connecticut has released its final numbers for 2020. Overdose deaths reached a new high -1374, up 14.6% from the previous year. Connecticut Accidental Drug Intoxication Deaths Office of the Chief Medical Examiner

If we want to decrease opioid overdose deaths, we have to understand why people die from these deaths, and then take bold steps to address those causes.

As a paramedic who has responded to opioid overdoses with increasing frequency over the last twenty-five years there are two mains reasons why people die.

They use alone.
They use a tainted product.

Naloxone has been credited with saving countless lives, but if there is no one around to witness an overdose and then administer the naloxone, no amount of naloxone will save the victim. A review of fatal overdoses based on the EMS reporting to the Connecticut poison control center found that while 59% percent of overdoses occurred in residences, 82% percent of fatal overdoses occurred in residences. In 95% of these cases, the person overdosed alone.

People overdose because the product they consume is stronger than they anticipated. This can happen due to lowered tolerance. The patient just got our or rehab or jail or is using after a sustained period of abstinence. The other reason is an unexpectedly strong product. This is the true danger of fentanyl. On much of the east coast, heroin comes in powdered form. Dealers have found that is cheaper to either lace their heroin with fentanyl or replace it entirely with fentanyl. Fentanyl which is 50 to 100 stronger than heroin is thus 50 to a hundred times smaller in size thus easier to smuggle. $4 bag of fentanyl is not 50 to a 100 times stronger than a bag of heroin. It just has less active ingredient. With less active ingredient, there is more cut, which makes it harder for dealers to get an even mix. Additionally fentanyl has been noted to clump, creating a chocolate chip cookie effect. A user make get 1% fentanyl in their bag or a clump of 10% fentanyl, which could be fatal even to an experienced user. In the past, users needed to be warned of bad batches on the street—unexpectedly high strength drugs. With fentanyl, any bag has the potential for being lethal, even if the overall strength of the larger batch is low.

So what bold action do we need to take to solve these issues.

Why do people use alone? Because law and stigma drive them into the shadows. When we treat addiction as a crime instead of a disease, and when we shame users instead of treating them as members of our community deserving of the same love and compassion as anyone else who is vulnerable, they are are going to hide their use, and they will continue to die alone behind locked doors, in dark alleys. I have long advocated safe injection sites. Keep people from dying alone. If any of my three daughters became addicted to heroin, I would insist they shoot us at the kitchen table rather than hidden in their bedrooms. I have been on too many scenes where parents have found their children dead behind locked doors, and others where children, cast out by their families died alone alone under bridges.

What do we do about the product strength issue. Legalize, regulate and tax drugs so people have access to medicinal quality opioids.

These are bold initiatives that few politicians dare speak of for fear of the political climate. But if we want real solutions to prevent death, this is how. End the War on Drugs. Bring the drug use out of the shadows. Bring our loved ones back into our community. Embrace all with love and caring.