I saw this posted on another forum and thought it would be a good read here since we have a lot of people new to the field.
It is a very well written article by the person this actually happened to.
For educational purposes, proper assessment and good technique should be well learned and followed.
This thread is not initiated with the intent to be critical of the person this happened to. She gives a very honest account of her mistake.
The Man in the Blue Pajamas
By JEN UMLAS
Published: May 4, 2008
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/04/nyregion/thecity/04save.html
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/04/nyregion/thecity/04save.html
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/04/nyregion/thecity/04save.html
It is a very well written article by the person this actually happened to.
For educational purposes, proper assessment and good technique should be well learned and followed.
This thread is not initiated with the intent to be critical of the person this happened to. She gives a very honest account of her mistake.
The Man in the Blue Pajamas
By JEN UMLAS
Published: May 4, 2008
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/04/nyregion/thecity/04save.html
MY parents were volunteer emergency medical technicians for two decades, so I expected I would be great at the job. I certainly had parental support. When I mentioned to my mom in 1996 that I was thinking of becoming an E.M.T., she all but picked me up and carried me into the training hall, right down the block from our house on Eaton Court in Gerritsen Beach, Brooklyn.
That’s what happened one day in the late 1990s with John, a 75-year-old who was lying on the couch of his home in his pajamas, light blue as I remember, when we arrived. He reminded me of the men in my Grandpa Tom’s bridge club, all gray hair and thick glasses and hearty laughs. He had been having chest pains, and as it turned out, he had undergone bypass surgery less than a week before.
Then, however, as I looked at his face through the oxygen mask, it seemed as if John wasn’t breathing regularly. I asked our driver to take a look. When a person’s breathing becomes inadequate, his pulse soon weakens, but because John’s pulse was strong, I was not sure what was going on. Because I’d been an E.M.T. for only two years and went on a few calls a week instead of a few a day, I hadn’t built up much experience. The driver, who was about my age, was even greener than I was and had somewhat less medical training. The officer had 15 years on us, but she was dealing with the family.
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/04/nyregion/thecity/04save.html
The two city E.M.T.’s had John moved to the floor in case we needed to perform CPR, and then attached their defibrillator to his chest. I moved my hands away because I knew that anyone touching a patient would have his or her pulse appear on the monitor, too. But the partner waved me back toward the patient. I put my hand back on John’s wrist and, when I looked at the monitor, I immediately knew why I had been motioned back.
There was only one pulse. Mine. John’s heart had stopped sometime in the last few minutes and I had done nothing because I’d thought that my heartbeat was his.
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/04/nyregion/thecity/04save.html