| I flew home from L.A., I guess by now it was about a month ago. cheaptickets.com - direct from L.A. to Atlanta for $150. Not a bad deal, especially considering that my train out there (also from Atlanta) was over $200, and took four days. Still, by half an hour into the flight I decided that air travel was incredibly boring. By Greyhound, you can see the country pass by, meet all kind of interesting people, stretch your legs every few hours - it's a fascinating experience, the journey is an adventure in itself. Amtrak has unsurpassed scenery (passing over one canyon I heard a couple other passengers just gasping and commenting "that really makes you believe in God and creation, doesn't it?"), the option of a luxury meal in the dining car, the freedom to stay on the train during stops any time you want to, and a chance to walk around freely and mingle with other passengers from all over (I played some killer Uno just before arriving). By Airtran, the windows are small, and by my seat, non-existent. You can't even feel any motion except on takeoff, the seats are small and you can't even have stuff on your lap, it's got to be tucked away. For all it felt like, I could have just been sitting in a room. And I'd already read all the books I had with me about twenty times during my three months in L.A., so rereading anything, even a Miss Marple, was kind of just to kill time, not to enjoy a good book for the three hundredth time. So I was a little bit on the bored side. Until... "Attention passengers, we have a medical emergency, if there are any medical personnel aboard, please make yourselves known. Any doctors, nurses, paramedics, EMTS..." Actually, I'm not really sure how it was worded. I was too busy listening for "EMT" ready to jump out of my seat if I could be useful. Terrible to say, but I was afraid that there would be a doctor, or a paramedic, or anyone with more experience so I would be stuck on the sidelines - I was afraid I didn't count, and was so glad when they said "EMT." I went to the back of the airplane, and found the flight attendants with a woman who was saying that her mother had a "twist" in her face. As she described the symptoms (her mother was in the restroom), I realized that this could be really serious - everything she was describing lined up with a possible stroke - and I knew if it really was a stroke we had a three hour window of opportunity to get her to a hospital and treated before the effects became permanent. There was another passenger who responded, a nurse. At first I felt nervous and unsure - I knew that nurses have more training so she probably outranked me, so I figured she had a better right than I did to provide care. But she was a neo-natal nurse, unaccustomed to strokes, so she told me quite plainly that I had the training needed and I should take charge. I felt a pretty awesome responsibility as I realized that based on my evaluation of this woman's condition, we could land that plane right then. No pressure, right? A couple minutes later she came out of the bathroom, and I was able to get a feel for her condition. I asked her the standard questions I've been taught to ask, had her close her eyes and hold her arms up in front of her, asked her to smile for me, asked her to repeat a common phrase, and squeeze both my hands at the same time. She had little to no difficulty - clearly a stable patient. We got vital signs, and then the captain was on the radio with medlink on the ground, and they wanted to talk to me. Well, they wanted our findings anyway - I figured it'd be easiest if I just talked to them instead of trying to explain my notes to the flight attendant so he could pass them on... I took a little longer than I should have if I were calling in to the hospital from an ambulance (that was part of my training too), probably a two minute report when we're supposed to limit radio air time to about thirty seconds at a shot. Oh well. The doctor said to give her a single asperin, have her lay down, and keep monitering her condition. If she deteriorated, to give her oxygen. By then, it was a relief to pass the responsibility for the decision to the doctor and just follow his orders. So we spent the last hour and a half of the flight making her comfortable (the floor was hard and the AC was kind of high, it was a challenge but we finally got enough padding and air pillows where she was comfortable and warm), and collecting information, and keeping an eye on her vital signs and her level of consciousness. This lady was the epitome of a stable patient. She was alert and oriented, could give us more information on her medical history than either her daughter or daughter-in-law, which is fairly unusual in elderly patients, couldn't hear very well but well enough, her vitals stayed within normal limits... we checked them every fifteen minutes and wrote them down - since she was stable, I didn't feel the slightest bit guilty about enjoying myself. Eventually we landed - they rearranged our seats so the nurse and I could sit up front with her (well, as close to the front as we could in coach - I don't think any of the people in business class were willing to give up their seats), the flight attendants kept a check on my carry-on so I could get to it easily (then I forgot and got caught up with the paramedics so I didn't after all and one of them brought it out for me) - I even got a window seat where I could see out, though I was busy with taking one last set of vitals so I didn't actually get to see out. oh well. We deplaned first, met by paramedics from the fire department, and headed out to the lobby. The nurse had to run to catch her connecting flight, and I stayed and made my report. It was really cool - they were impressed at the notes I'd taken, the vitals we'd gotten - one of them pulled me aside and asked my evaluation. I said possible TIA, self-corrected, and he said that would be his as well. I mentioned the asperin we'd given per med control - he asked "which doctor?" I said medlink, and he asked "Witch doctor?" and asked "when do you give an asperin to a possible stroke patient?" That's a common joke among medics whenever a doctor orders treatment that could be wrong. I should have questioned that order - there are two kinds of strokes, you can't tell the difference in the field, and the treament for one kind would make the other kind worse. oh well. Then her daughter-in-law and I headed for baggage claim - her to pick up their luggage, me to (finally) meet my boyfriend (now my fiance). We talked, exchanged phone numbers, she thanked me profusely (I felt selfish accepting them - I was bored anyway)... then we got to the top of the escalator. It was like a movie. He looked up and caught my eye. Suddenly everything else lost focus. I sort of saw other people passing by, like extras you ignore. I could almost imagine the ADs directing them to walk past the camera, pause and go again to provide the bustle of a crowded airport for the touching reunion scene. Odd thoughts, I know, for someone laying eyes on the guy who's in love with her for the first time since we started dating. And then he wrapped his arms around me and just held on. The lady was telling him "you've got a really great girl here, you're a really lucky guy." and he just said "I know," and didn't let go. He held me the entire drive back to Chattanooga. epilogue: The next day the daughter-in-law called me, told me that they were keeping her in hospital for just a few more tests and evaluation, but she was staying alert, in really good condition. A little later she called again to say they'd released her from the hospital and the family was coming to Chattanooga to make their wedding they were traveling for after all. About a week later, I got a call from the other daughter, thanking me for my care of her mother. And another wekk or so later, the lady herself wrote to me her thanks. She was in fact diagnosed with a small stroke for which she was prescribed an asperin a day, but is in very good health otherwise. So all is well (except I guess for the medical bills). Thank God for an eventful but safe flight. |
