The Milk is in the Fridge.

I repeat.

The Milk is in the Fridge.

Now to try and sneak a nice cup of tea.

And for the last post, it's not that there aren't many pretty ambulance women, it's just that I don't know them... And the ones I do know are happily partnered up.

...And no sooner do I become available for another job than a get sent a mile away for another chest pain.

Once more, a lovely family (I hope this is going to be a habit), with the patient leaning up against his car as I arrived. A short assessment and it's unlikely to be his heart causing the problem, but a quick trip to hospital will rule out anything nasty.

A bonus on this job was seeing one of the prettiest ambulance women we have in the area at the moment...

Now...for that milk...

My second job of the shift is a 50+ year old male, who just happens to share my birthday.
He has been generally unwell for the past day or so, but has started getting angina-like chest pain.
Very, very nice man, and a lovely family, also, while he weighs 20 stone (his own admission), he also has a chair lift for his other medical problems.
A fairly simple "bog standard" job for the LAS, made even simpler by the nice family.

(Can you tell I often don't get nice family members?)

Now to try and get this milk back to station.

I've just gotten some milk for the station and chocolate (and some other, healthier foodstuffs) to see me through the night.
I've got to say, I love the way people doing their shopping stare as I walk past them in my uniform, clutching a shopping basket.
Not that I enjoy being the centre of attention, but the looks I get make me think that people are disappointed that us medical emergency types actually eat,
Try working a 12 hour shift without eating, and I think you'd find yourself a bit less able to deal with the stresses of the job.
A happy belly equals a happy EMT.

So my first job of the night was a 47 year old female with 'difficulty in breathing', she refused to talk to Control, so I fully expected someone like an alcoholic.
Instead she has neurological problems from a growth in the brain. The difficulty in breathing came from a mixture of a fairly mild cough and a panic attack.
So a genuine patient, if not for the reason that I was called, then for the need to be reassured.
Not a 'bad' job at all for a Friday night.

I was right - my name was on the board, but not on the computer.

How many seconds do I have before they send me a job?

And to think...I only owned up so I could keep you lot entertained with something other than "I'm asleep now", "I'm even more asleep", and, "This sofa is really uncomfortable to sleep on".

No jobs yet, I have a suspicion that although I have told Control that I am working, they may have forgotten to put me on the main computer.

So my options are as follows...

a) Sit on station, have something to eat, have a sleep and if they continue to ignore me, have a restful night.

b) Let guilt get the better of me - give Control a ring and then spend the rest of my night actually working...

Guess I'm going to be phoning Control then...

It's PURPLE!

Actually it looks quite nice at the moment, although the smell of paint won't be helping my headache.
The weather as I was driving into work was, as us Londoners put it, "bucketing it down". This is good for me, as people seem to be less likely to beat each other around the head in pubs when there is heavy rain...

And as I type this, the rain stops...

There seems to be a bit of a server problem at the moment, resulting in double postings and missed postings... Just when I'm going to be sendings things into the ether hoping they are going to work.

So, after many headaches involving Housing offices, road closures and various other minor (but still annoying) problems, I got to look at my prospective new dwelling place.



It's actually rather nice, and I think I'll take it.



The location itself isn't brilliant (but I have a car), and it's a bit smaller than my current place, but it does have one good point in its favour...



...a loftspace.



Perfect for hiding away all my crap.



So, dear reader, prepare yourself for a stream of moaning as I move house (sometime after Copenhagen mind you).



Two and a half hours until I have to be in work. And I'm knackered already.

Well, as promised, here is the first of the many posts I shall be making over the next 18 hours or so.  We’ll see how interesting it is.

I do however have a slight problem, my plan for the first of my nightshifts is to slouch around the flat, doing very little so that I have plenty of energy for the night.  But that plan has gone up in smoke.  As you may know I’m having to leave my current flat (because they are knocking down the whole block), and today the council have given me the opportunity to look at my ‘first choice’ of flat.

I’m not too enamoured with it’s location – and I have a feeling it’s going to be a lot smaller than my current place.  I don’t see why I should have to start selling my possessions just so I can move to a smaller place (for probably the same amount of rent).

Unfortunately, I’m stuck with the council housing me at the moment, as there is no way I can afford a place to live in London (not even via keyworker initiatives).

So the next post will hopefully have some pictures of this potential living space.

Then I’ll probably need to go back to the council and talk about my options – either way it doesn’t set me up that well for tonights shift.