Beating the System

Well, it didn't take long. Back to earth and back to reality after the holiday. And in order to ease myself back in, I chose to work on an ambulance for the night, and not the car. That way there are two brains trying to think if necessary.

Except, that on the whole, it wasn't. I spent most of the shift thinking, again, that it's high time we introduced some type of fine system for abusing ambulance resources. One call in particular, amongst the overdoses, multiple ambulance-calling people and drunks of last night, boiled my blood. Not only because it was absurd, but because the system put in place to try and avoid such things just turned the other cheek and continued to allow the abuse.

At first, the call came in as a Green call. Lowest priority. No lights and sirens, no drama. To a man in his 30's with...... Earache! I was incredulous. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. After several years in this job, I'm still surprised sometimes by the crazy calls we respond to. Then the system kicked in, and the call was referred to Telephone Advice, set up to deal with the calls that are, let's say, not in dire need of an ambulance. They are supposed to help find alternative care pathways, or at least different methods of attending hospital when an emergency ambulance is not the most suitable. They then referred the call to NHS Direct.

Once again, this was set up to try to reduce the number of A&E attendances, and ensure adequate ambulance cover for real emergencies. They have nurses and doctors at the other end of a phone line who are able to dispense sensible advice to the masses. In theory, this should have been the end of Earache Man. But No.

Two hours after the initial call was cancelled, we were on station, and the phone rings. The dispatcher at the other end starts the conversation with "I'm really, really sorry to do this to you"... Sounds ominous. For some reason though, I instantly reply with "Let me guess. He's 30 years old, has an earache and lives round the corner from the local hospital". The dispatcher is shocked by my sixth sense, but laughs. He explains that the call has been returned to the Ambulance Service from NHS Direct, and is now an Amber call. Lights and sirens. Possibly life threatening. FOR AN EARACHE!

The fact that this man had played the system and won, the fact that when we arrived he looked more like he was in labour than having an earache, the fact that he'd seen his GP and had just started antibiotics for an ear infection, and the fact that he refused to walk by repeatedly throwing himself to the floor, all added to my anger and frustration.

He amazingly felt much better once he was in A&E, and as I was finishing my paperwork, I saw him walk, perfectly steady and unaided, to the toilet.

I'm sure that many of my colleagues will laugh at my frustration. They'll say that it's just how it is and there's no point fighting. I guess that I'm still an idealist.

This man beat the system. I just wish there was a way for the system to beat him back. Just a little.