Back now from a fab weekend in Linlithgow with the Scottish Casualties Network (website seems down at the moment, otherwise I’d give you a link. Every year we run at least two ‘camps’, an opportunity for a group of acting casualties and first-aiders to get together and throw various horrendous scenarios at each other; sort of “I’ll see your amputated finger and raise you a full thickness burn”.
It’s always fun and gives you a chance to put into practice skills that you’d otherwise expect to atrophy; it’s not often you have to use spinal boards or de-fibs in the real world so it’s always useful to keep your hand in.
So in short I:
Arrived Friday night, drank. Slept on knackered bed that wobbled in 4 different directions. Since I tend to be something of an ‘active sleeper’, this caused some problems. At one point I woke up on my back with my usual difficulty in breathing and thought “Oh no, I want to roll over, but I’m scared I’ll smash the bed”. My sleep addled brain computed this as “Well then you should just lie here and suffocate, you don’t want to smash the bed now, do you?”
Saturday morning, up early, showered (super-thermo-nuclear-hot-showers). Off to kitchen, help cook breakfast, help serve breakfast, look down to realise all breakfast has been eaten, leaving me with a scraping of scrambled eggs and a veggie sausage. Thanks guys.
Boyfriend arrives, seems shy but keen to play along, considering taking ideas of casualty simulation back to his organisation.
Whole group pile into cars, drive to agricultural college.
Play spinal injury victim, fallen off scaffolding, lying with metal beam under my neck. Diabetic to boot (hence blacked out and fell from scaffolding). Care reasonable, boyfriend displays unsurprising (to me) aggression and focus when treating and automatically takes control of scenarios. Has to explain later that he works for the ambulance service, suddenly people understand why he’s such a bloody know-it-all.
Coffee.
Play chemical inhalation victim, scene is set around a pond on marshy ground. Elect to be fully concious and sitting on rock as don’t have waterproof clothing with me. Subsequently advised by organiser that chemical poisoning will cause ‘paralysis of extremities”. Physically dragged on plastic sheet away from scene as I can’t walk. Dragged through marsh, on belly, soaked.
First aiders decide they didn’t do as good as job as they wanted on the chemical scene, would we do it again?
Treatment much improved.
Dragged through marsh second time.
Managed to soak the bits they missed on the first try.
Lunch.
First aiders plan their own scenarios for casualties to work on, sort of table-turning exercise, but also important as it gives them a chance to experience being treated. Am neither a casualty nor first-aider for this bit, so get to sit on a wall watching people treat my group’s RTA. Occasionally say things like “Don’t ask me, I’m not here” and “Your ambulance is delayed, ETA 30 minutes”
Coffee (there was a lot of this).
Oxygen therapy practice, fiddle about with cylinders, lots of fun.
Nominated to lead group of 6 first aiders (incl. ambulance boyfriend!?!) in two scenes. March round corner in car park and into machine shed where we’ve been sent. As team leader my job is initial assessment, triage and deployment of crews. Technically I shouldn’t touch a patient. On entering machine shed casualty looks up, holding electric drill and says “Are we alone?”
Heart stops, curse organisers for nominating me team leader, as I seem to have been set up to talk down a psych case with a power tool.
Casualty says louder “Are we *ON*?” Suddenly understand, casualties haven’t been told that we’re coming and haven’t yet begun acting. Apologise, leave room, close door.
Door locks.
Rattle door, door firmly closed, sounds of patients dying inside. Giggle hysterically. Suggest calling fire and rescue. Instead pound on door and insist that patients stop bloody acting and let us in so we can continue with scene.
Gain access, manage scene, 1 x adult male, electrocution + associated burns, 1 x adult female, lower limb injuries, partially entrapped, 1 x adult male, slipped on floor, head injury, unresponsive.
1 x adult male, team leader, smug as hell that he doesn’t have to do much.
On leaving this scene, the second group of first aiders came round the corner, they’d been busy elsewhere (our next port of call) and were on their way into the machine shed. Enjoyed seeing them pale as I shouted “Don’t forget! Post-Partum haemorrhage can be lessened by firm and persistent uteral massage!”. Myuk yuk yuk.
Second scene, 1 x adult male w/ anaphylaxis (who’d cleverly left his epi-pen indoors, delegated task of running like a nutter to find it to a first aider), 1 x adult male, ? fractured ankle, uncooperative, 1x adult female, ? CVA, dribbly.
Spent majority of this scene rummaging through bushes, muttering “There’ll be someone else, there’s sure to be someone else” until realised that casualty who tends to do irritating crap like that was lying in machine shed with head injury. Relaxed, adopted management pose, “I trust my team to work autonomously”. Rushed back and forth looking officious, achieving little.
Return to accomodation, chinese takeaway, wee snooze.
Involved in big scene for the night, a fireworks display gone wrong. Little ironic, as I once did a fireworks display for these guys that went disastrously, so always good to give history a chance to kick you up the bum again. Spend significant time gluing burns onto people and marvelling at Gary’s ability to give himself an amputated hand.
Pop outside and set up fireworks, adrenaline pumping, not helped by local neds yelling at us from woods.
Set off first firework, expecting “bang”, instead get “KA-BLAM”. Pleased.
Set off next three fireworks, expecting “Fiss-Fiss-Sparky-Spark”, get 12 foot towers of magnesium burning loveliness. Chuffed.
Set off last firework, big, expecting reasonable “Whump”. Receive 30 feet of flames, sparks and crackles with an explosion that buried the firework in the ground further than previously managed by myself with big hammer. Scared!
Comments from treeline “Fucking EXCELLENT!”.
Quickly douse fireworks, squirt blood into ears, lie on ground groaning. Pretend to be blind and deaf for 30 minutes, flail arms trying to find people, slap first aider in face quite hard. Oops (sorry Elaine!).
Beer, bed, try different bed, much better, sleep.
Up early sunday, shower’s still burning hot, cook breakfast, act like total nazi to ensure I get something to eat.
Run somewhat unorthodox ‘male rape’ scene, spend 30 minutes sobbing in room, freaking out when people try to hug me. Hard work, emotionally knackered by end. Had adopted persona (I feel sorry for “Luke Wilson, 21 from Glasgow”, he had a crappy day!) which meant could leave scenario thoroughly behind once it was done. Still very tiring and draining though. Scene well received by all. Yay!
Coffee.
Coffee.
Coffee. (told you it was draining!)
Involved in various exercises through Sunday morning, patient questioning and assessing in the dark.
Debrief, coffee, pack cars, hugs, home.
When’s the next one again?
