“25 year old male, DIB, chest pain, abdo pain, nausea, vomiting, fever, sweating, headache, dizzy, not alert”
Hands up if you’ve had a cold! OK, i’m assuming everyone has their hands in the air! Now, hands up if you’ve had a really bad cold! Again, i’m expecting everyone to have suffered this fate! Now, this one to the guys! Hands up if you have suffered from man-flu. As we all know, men don’t just suffer from cold, a bad cold or even flu, oh no. It is something much much worse. The debilitating, near life threatening man flu can grip any male at any time. Sufferers may experience the same symptoms women suffer during a cold but much much worse. Hurty brain, burny head, hurty tummy, über achy, extra sniffly, the worst cough ever, more lethargic than an over tired sloth and an overwhelming inability to do even the simplest of tasks. Treatment includes patting on the head, rubbing of the tummy, waiting on hand and foot and constant sympathy and reassurance. In extreme cases an ambulance may be required to give extra instructions to loved ones and how to treat this crippling condition. The less sympathy the victim receives the longer it will take to cure.
Jokes aside, you would be shocked at how many people we go to suffering from the symptoms of a cold. Some take our advise to rest up, take Paracetomol, Ibuprofen, Lemsip, Beechams, Buttercup syrup and any other remedies they can get their hands on. Others insist on a trip to hospital to sit on a metal bench in a waiting room full of sick people for 4-6 hours to be told to go home, rest up, take Paracetomol, Ibuprofen, Lemsip, Beechams, Buttercup syrup and any other remedies they can get their hands on.
As soon as the job appeared on our screen the usual moans and groans about people needing to man-the-f**k-up began. Obviously, he could be ill, he could have meningitis or something else and all the necessary checks would be made before we drew a conclusion but that list of presenting complaints looked suspiciously like man-flu. It also seemed like the caller just said ‘yes’ to every question they were asked. We arrived at the address after driving on lights and sirens through the rush hour traffic. The blues and twos are used for all life threatening or potentially life threatening conditions and the DIB alone meant he was going to get an ambulance and car. As we parked up the FRU pulled in alone side us and we went in the house on mass! Lying on the sofa with a pillow on his head was our patient surrounded by about 8 members of his family across 3 generations.
“Hello sir, whats the problem today?”
No response.
“Come on sir, we can’t help you if you don’t talk to us”
He let out a groan.
“Can you sit up and talk to us?”
A muffled “I caaaaan’t” was the responce.
At this point the family began flocking around him telling us he was really ill and needed to go to hospital and couldn’t walk.
NB: ALL AMBULANCE CREWS HATE BEING TOLD THAT SOMEONE CANNOT WALK
After a further 10 minutes of conversation which was like drawing blood from a stone our patient was sitting up, kind of talking and showing all the signs and symptoms of man-flu. There was no rash, he didn’t even have a temperature but despite our best efforts to convince him and his family otherwise, hospital was where he NEEDED to be because he NEEDED to be seen by a SPECIALIST. As we suggested coming to the ambulance he coughed.
“Bruvs, your lungs are fucked innit”
That was the response from his brother. We asked him to stand up and come with us. He slumped into the back of the chair.
“I can’t walk.”
The female members of the family then started dressing him. Socks, joggers and shoes. Laces tied and all. This was serious man flu. Then came the standing up ceremony. As they helped him stand up he threw himself to the floor. The women flocked around him, the grandmother was putting a spectacular effort to physically lift him to the floor.
“Right, can you all step back please. Look mate, your’e 25 years old, you are unwell, you have a bad cold, I get it, you feel rough, but you are a grown man. If you want to come to hospital with us stand up and walk to the ambulance. Don’t make you mother, grandmother and younger sister pick you up off the floor and carry you, you are not dying”
There was a moment of silence. Had I overstepped the mark? Was I being too harsh? Had we missed something?
I thought to myself ‘well this is awkward!’
Then, like a phoenix rising from the flames, like Lazarus rising from the dead, like Rocky Balboa wrenching himself off the canvas, he rose from the floor to standing, pushed passed us, grabbed his coat and stomped down to the ambulance!
What was awkward was the journey to hospital, he gave me the silent treatment like a moody seven year old who just had their remote control car confiscated for not eating their peas. We handed him over to the nurse in the ACCIDENT and EMERGENCY department where he was sent to the waiting room and informed of the 4-6 hour wait.
Another life saved.