This week marks Child Safety Week so to that end this is the first post of three to highlight areas of concern that I have come across in recent months. The theme this year is Small steps to safety to show that by changing only a few small things, a child's safety can be greatly improved. For example: putting hot drinks safely out of reach, teaching children how to cross the road carefully, strapping your child into their car seat each time, or fitting (and regularly checking) smoke alarms; these little things can make a huge difference. We all have our moments, sometimes careless, sometimes forgetful and sometimes doing things on autopilot; Child Safety Week aims to just raise awareness of the accidents that injure and kill children and how to prevent them. Writing those few words was chilling, but it does happen. I have seen it. You only have to read 'A Tragedy Laid Bare' to see how quickly lives can change.
This post is about road safety. It is simply a look at the basics. Stop, Look & Listen! Three words which all children are taught. The thing is, do we always set the right examples? Do we always cross at crossings? Do we always stop? Do we always look left, look right, look left again? Do we always listen to what is all around us? I have to admit I may be guilty of failing on occasions. I probably cross local roads with my son without going through the routine every time. I'm writing this post because I have been to the same type of job twice now and to me, twice is two too many.
"RTC Car vs Pedestrian. 2 patients. Age unknown. Report for HEMS"
When someone is hit by a car it attracts attention. Normally it happens in a busy area with a large footfall and as such crowds gather. What you get with a crowd is a lot of mobile phones and a lot of 999 calls. This inevitably leads to confusion over what you are going to so I tend to just wait and see. The words Car vs Pedestrian can mean pretty much anything is possible. It could be bumps and bruises, broken bones, crushing injuries and at worst, a very public, traumatic cardiac arrest. We pulled into the high street and could see about 100 meters away the hordes of arms waving at us. The sheer number of them was daunting to say the least but the frantic nature of them was a concern. I may have said in the past I love a crowd, today I didn't. Why? Kids.
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Lying on the floor, surrounded by people were our patients. A mother and her daughter. They had been hit by a car whilst crossing at traffic lights. The driver hadn't seen the lights change, nor seen them start crossing. He had probably been on his phone or something similar and was understandably shaken up. Our priority however was lying on the floor. Initially heads had to be immobilised so we used members of the public. We each assessed a patient. I had mum, my crew mate had the little girl. The mum was in huge amounts of pain and rapidly becoming more and more groggy but naturally her only concern was for her daughter. Until she knew her daughter was OK I was going to get nowhere so I promised to go and see. On this occasion mum had taken the impact. A basic assessment showed the girl had been knocked to the floor by mum, no direct impact with the car and no injuries other than bruising and grazed hands.
Mum wasn't so lucky. She had instinctively turned to face the car and protect her daughter from it. The impact had broken both of her legs. She also had a broken pelvis and a broken arm. She had possible spinal injuries and neck pain. She had a head injury. A bad one. Talking loudly across the gap between where they were lying, me and my crew mate had a very public, frank discussion and decided to leave the girl where she was, the police who were just arriving would deal with her. There was no other ambulance or resources available yet. The mum was a priority; her injuries were serious enough for us to request HEMS. The next 12 minutes flew by; by the time the helicopter was circling above we had 2 ambulances and a car on scene. It was a hive of activity, everyone was doing something; the bed appeared, IV access was being gained, dressings and splints applied and spinal board and straps in position. It was organised chaos. Once the orange jumpsuits were on scene they took over. She was whisked off in the helicopter and we took the girl.
"Is my mummy OK?"
To be continued...
"RTC Car vs Pedestrian. 2 patients. 6 year old female unconscious. 35 year old female injuries unknown. HEMS on way"
Gulp. We go to 9-10 jobs a day, 4-5 days a week, 52 weeks a year. That's roughly 2500 jobs in a 12 month period. 99% of those jobs we don't bat an eyelid to. 1% of them terrify all of us. The anxiety is palpable en route to jobs like this. Read '7.9 miles' to see exactly what is going through our mind. The only difference between that job and this job is today we pressed 'on scene'. There is something very surreal about seeing a child lie on the floor. Maybe it's their size, maybe it's just the fact they are a child, maybe it's because I see my boy lying there instead. It's horrible. She was motionless; the mother was on her knees beside her crying. We ran over. There was no pomp and circumstance, nor was there any thought spared for the mums injuries. Today, the little girl took the impact. Take a moment to think of a child standing next to their mother. Think about where the bonnet of a car is on each of them. You can probably see why the mum in the last job had leg injuries. You can also now see why this girl was unconscious.
The girl was alive, her airway was clear, she was breathing, her pulse way strong. Primary survey clear. Due to the fact she was unconscious and so small we decided to get her on the ambulance as soon as possible out of the public glare. We fitted a collar and as soon as the second crew arrive we got her on a board and out of the public view. The mum came with us and was incredible. She let us do our thing. She sat in the front of the ambulance watching through. She didn't ask questions, she didn't distract us, and that is such a huge help. As a parent I can only imagine what was going through her mind. Someone asked for an update on HEMS. Before the answer was given the back door swung open. Thank god! The sea of orange got on board. No helicopter this time, they had come in the car and would travel with us to hospital. We stood back and they did their thing. Once stabilised we left. It was a 20 minute drive to the trauma centre. Eyes fixated on the road I made my way through the traffic, all the time aware there were 4 people standing up in the back. Mum stared. She didn't say a thing. Just watched and cried. As we pulled in to the hospital she said:
"Is my baby going to be OK?"
To be continued...
Stop, Look & Listen. Both of these accidents happened at pedestrian crossings; the lights had changed to red, the green man had appeared, and they had crossed. The traffic had not stopped. Autopilot had kicked in. You see a car stop, the green man appears, the beeping begins and you cross. Unfortunately, where there was no car waiting on the far side there now is one; seconds later and there is nowhere to go and nowhere to move to. The impact is inevitable. All that remains is who will take the brunt? Both of these could have been avoided. The small step to safety is just to double check. Have the cars in both directions and both lanes stopped? Is it safe to cross? Drum this into your little ones. Set the example. Stop, Look & Listen.
Continued...
How do you say "Probably not" to anyone?