Diagnosis? N.F.I.

Booze, Bangs and ODs

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Watch out, watch out, the nutters are about

Last Friday night there was a new moon and, true to form, the nutters were out in force.

I kicked off with a ‘bottling’ at one of the local nightclubs; usual rubbish “no officer, I’ve no idea who did it” then “I’m gonna get that c*** tomorrow and show him what for”. This particular individual was one of a large family of yobbos who’ve been plaguing us for years – though to be fair I’d not had the pleasure of him before but the surname and the address were all too familiar. He was, as they say these days, ‘giving it large‘ and was having no truck with A&E, effing doctors, or needles. He did however, agree to keep his head still long enough for me to glue up the two lacerations over his eyes, even if he couldn’t keep his mouth shut; trying to impress the two scantily clad females he had in tow I suspect . He was last seen outside the club, waving his arms around and puffing out his chest, vowing to sort out the bastard “wot dun this to me” – what he really meant was “I’ve been in a bit of a scrape and mummy’s coming to pick me up”.

Next call was to an RTA – whoopie, a bit of trauma! Sadly not nearly as exciting as it sounded, but the young man involved was lucky not to have ended up crashing through the railing on the bridge and down on to the motorway below. He’d been drinking and admitted to ‘snorting’ something but wouldn’t say what. Although he appeared to have only minor injuries the bulls-eye on the windscreen (not wearing a seatbelt) suggested a possible head injury so the crew popped him up to A&E with a police officer to keep him company.

Meantime I backed up another crew for a patient with abdo pain, outside one of the local pubs. Sounded a bit like an ECP job so I asked Control if I could assist. What we actually had was a known depressive who’d been out drinking and wanted some attention. The abdo pain was a bit of red herring as she admitted that she was feeling ‘down’ and the pain was making her feel worse, but she couldn’t/wouldn’t take pain killers as she knew she would overdose on them, just as she’d done earlier in the week (and would do again in a couple of days). What she really wanted was to see the mental health team as she felt she couldn’t cope any more. What do you do? It’s Friday night/early Saturday morning and there’s no real help available. It was pass the buck time so the crew took her in and hoped the on-call psychs could help out – (ooh, there goes another pig flying past).

With all the local police gathered outside the town centre night clubs I got a call back to one of the working men’s clubs for an ‘unconscious male‘. He wasn’t when I arrived, though friends claimed he’d collapsed. His main problem was that his brain “was frying” and he had a stonking headache. His wife duly arrived and a more ominous picture emerged. This chap is only in his forties but has a drink problem – which he won’t admit to. He’s prone to ‘abscences’ followed by ‘crushing’ headaches and violent outbursts, which he admitted he can’t control. No, he wouldn’t go and see his doctor. No, the drink wasn’t the cause, it was all stress related. The Missus had had enough and wanted him to see someone. We convinced him that a trip to A&E was probably in order if only to sort out the headache and check that something more sinister wasn’t going on. Hopefully Missus is going to drag him kicking and screaming down to the GP next week in a vain attempt to get him some help for the drinking.

Then it was back to join the police at the night clubs. Two patients this time, both having been swiped around the head with the buckle end of a large, heavy belt. Of course it was all ‘unprovoked’ and they’d no idea who the perpetrator was. One had a nice neat laceration to the top of his head but the other had his top lip nicely bisected for about 1 cm – a job for the max-fax boys. I dropped him off and, as luck would have it, the max-fax doc was down in A&E and agreed to see the guy straight away.

Things quietened down after this – no more lunacy related jobs. Interestingly the following night, Saturday, saw no cases of booze, bangs or overdoses at all.

Roll on that full moon on February 2nd – I’m on nights again!

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