Being part of an ambulance crew at a rural station frequently meant long journeys into the main hospital in the city. This often meant spending time in the back of the ambulance with a patient. If it was an emergency you were usually busy, and the patient was most likely unconscious. For a general admissions, the patient was conscious and it was our job to offer reassurance when necessary.
It was like being a barman inost situations – the patient would open up and talk about anything and everything. There was an unexplainable trust, like they knew they could tell you anything. Obviously there was the whole patient confidentiality that meant what was said in the back of the Ambulance went no further, but it was more than that.
I worked in a bar one summer, and I learned things about people because I was somebody they could comfortably share their problems with. Being in the back of an ambulance with a patient was the same.
Sometimes the patient was terminally ill. It was a privilege to be a listening ear to them. To help them by allowing them to get things out of their system to someone who was disconnected from their situation, but could still show sympathy.
Elderly people would talk of the changes the had seen, the difficult times during and after WWII. Some spoke of their experiences of war. Not as innocent victims at home, but as active soldiers involved first hand in the fight. I’ve spoke before of the heroes, not looking for glory.
But being in the back of an ambulance can also be a challenge. There are the aggressive patients – more than once I….”asked” a patient to leave the vehicle. There are some things that won’t be tolerated and, generally, if the patient is able to threaten the ambulance crew then they most likely don’t need their help.
I had many humbling experiences, I have many special memories of patients. It is very like being a barman, but a million times better!
Life After the Blues (and twos) 