...Nothing else until 6:00am when we get a "maternataxi" from a place our trip computer records as 0.4miles from the hospital. Still not to complain, as it's an easy job that gets us off on time.

Nighty night.

Man denies tunnel terror charges

A man arrested at the Channel Tunnel has denied five offences under the Terrorism Act, at the Old Bailey.
Andrew Rowe, 32, from Maida Vale in north-west London, was arrested in Dover in October after being detained as he entered the tunnel in France.

Mr Rowe, of Carlton Vale, pleaded not guilty to three offences of possessing articles for use in terrorism.

He also denied two charges of making a record of information for terrorist purposes and will face trial next year.

The charges against Mr Rowe refer to a pair of socks attached with a cord, instructions on how to use a mortar and a "substitution code".

He was remanded in custody until January 2005 when he is due to face trial.

Can someone please explain to me how "a pair of socks attatched with a cord" can be used in terrorism? If a "substitution code" is a terrorist article, then WHSmiths and its fine collection of puzzle books must be Al-Quaida central.

No sooner do I hope for a quiet hour or two than the activation phone goes; it's sending us 200 yards up the road to a "Collapsed Male". We are met by two police officers who tell us that the patient was walking along the street, saw the policemen and then collapsed.
We get to the patient and can't smell any alcohol on him, but he is coughing and spluttering like an Oscar winner. He complains of a headache, coughing, leg pain, back pain and an inability to walk. Other than that he is refusing to talk to us. Examination is normal and the patient is obviously play-acting.
He then does one of the things that I really hate (given the prevalance of TB in Newham); he coughs all over us and the vehicle without putting his hand over his mouth. Then he starts to spit on the floor of the ambulance, again something I take a dim view of - but I'm driving so I leave it to my crewmate to sort out.
Forty seconds later and we pull up outside the hospital, and our patient decides to roll around the floor - by now both our patience is wearing thin, so we haul him up and throw him in a wheelchair.
In the hospital he refuses to speak to the nurses, says he cannot stand and doesn't acknowledge any requests.

We leave him there and within thirty seconds are back on station.

While at the hospital I induldged in a little bit of teaching - the nurse who was assessing our patient was trying to check his pupil response (by shining a light in each eye and making sure that it reacts to light) but the eyes don't appear to be reacting. I then suggest turning off the ceiliing light that the patient is laying on his back staring at.

For some reason I don't seem to have much patience tonight, it started with the drunk panic attack and has continued to get worse over the course of the night. A friend of mine would suggest that I am having a "sense of humour failure"; could it be that everyone else is drinking and having a good time tonight while I'm working? Normally I enjoy Friday night shifts, but tonight I'm just grumpy - I'm attending on Sunday, so I better get over it quickly.

"W" is working tonight from our main station - He is always a good laugh and always seems to have a joke whenever he works. Tonight I met him outside the hospital and he told me about a deaf old woman he had just brought in.
It was raining as he started to wheel her out her house so he made the comment "It's raining, you picked a fine time to be ill".

"Eh?" was the reply.

"The rain...it mucks up my hair".

"Eh?"

"MY HAIR"

With this she took a long hard look at W's very short, and very receeding hair and asked him, "Is it because of cancer?"

It is now 3:00am and already every other patient we have picked up has been drinking - from the 38 year old male having a panic attack, who didn't want to talk to us; to the 50 year old female who slipped on some steps coming out from the pub and cut her head. This has so far ended with our last call being one of our smelly "frequent flyers" who thankfully decided not to hang around and wait for us to turn up.

Then there was the police car that managed to accidentally force another car into someones garden - one of those jobs where every passing car slows down to stare. Thankfully there were no injuries, apart from the houseowners disturbed sleep. (At least I assume it was the owner - he was dressed in no shoes and a dressing gown).

With a bit of luck people are now wrapped up nice and snug in bed, away from the rain - and the only calls we will get will be the 5:00am "I'm in labour" call that will result in a baby around 11:00am (long after I'm in bed).

I'm going to try and get a bit of a sleep so that I look vaguely human for tomorrows Blogmeet.