Necrotic leg ulcers and faeces....oh my!
Why anyone still agrees to work with me on the ambulance is beyond me.

Me and my crewmate (different one from previous stories) were called to a rather nice house on a doctor's urgent. This differs from a normal 999 call as a GP has assessed the patient and arranged an admission, often directly to a ward or assessment unit rather than A&E.

On arrival at the house, we were directed upstairs by the patient's daughter. Of the GP, there was no sign, other than a hastily scrawled letter that looked like a spider had taken some bad acid and freaked out on a page of watermarked A4. The letter intimates that Doris (not her real name) was off her legs (i.e. unable to walk. She hadn't grown bored of her lower limbs) with ? cellulitis (skin infection) and secondary infective diarrhoea.

Nice

I was driving and my crewmate was attending. Despite trying to sell the job back to me as requiring my paramedic skillz, I told him to man the fuck up and find the patient. As we approached the bottom of the stairs, a smell assailed our nostrils. No simile is going to approach the full horror of this, but readers of the Discworld books will be aware of Foul Ole Ron and his Smell. I think we were dealing with a similar level. Imagine if an ammonia tanker collided with a slurry farm on a hot summer's day, with a few rotting beavers thrown in. Magnify by 100x.

As we ascended the stairs, the smell only worsened. In fact, as we reached the top of the stairs, I swear to God it had grown legs and was squealing "mummy". Both me and crewmate were holding back the tides of vomit which were marshalling and requesting clearance from the oesophogeal sphincter control towers of our stomachs.

Long story short, poor old Doris was not very well, bless her. Her legs had ulcerated and had started rotting, and she was covered in layers of her own shit. We cleaned her up as best we could, wrapped her in a blanket and popped her in a carry chair. I took the top end and crewie took the bottom (nearest her feet).

As we carried Doris down the stairs, she farted mightily. Firstly, this smelt like a Nazgul's foreskin, but secondly, as she did it, a little bit of poo came out, all over my crewmates arms. Doris must have thought an earthquake was occuring as my crewmate desperately tried not to drop her, whilst my shoulders started shaking with paroxysms of silent laughter.

We got her onto the vehicle and my crewmate cleaned off his unsolicited fake bake, and off we drove to hospital. Now, what a cruel, sick and depraved person would have done at this point would have been to put the heating on and closed the sliding door between the cab and the back of the ambulance.

As I said, a cruel person would have done that. And yep, it seems I was such a person. By the time we reached the hospital, my crewmate was looking ready to self harm. I still hadn't stopped laughing.
( Undercovercarrot got done for gross misconduct on..., Sun 25 Jul 2010, 12:42, 4 replies)

Nicely written, good use of paragraphing
HAHAHAHA he got poo on him!
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Sun 25 Jul 2010, 12:56, closed)

I agree
Shamefully amusing. *click*
(ed-z, Tue 27 Jul 2010, 17:42, closed)

Smelt like a Nazgul's foreskin
For that: *click*
(all my scars face forward possesses 2.5% of a hyperalloy combat chassis, Sun 25 Jul 2010, 23:44, closed)

what he said
Click
(andythepieman Is surfing the waves of indifference on, Tue 27 Jul 2010, 16:12, closed)