Posts Tagged ‘airbag’

A very long taxi ride back

July 26, 2017

The day sure started out slow

It went fine, but wouldn’t you know

To make the trip back

I caught a ride in a hack

And the driver made satisfactory dough.

Synopsis: I’m a Family Practitioner from Sioux City, Iowa. In 2010 I danced back from the brink of burnout, and honoring a 1 year non-compete clause, traveled and worked in out-of-the-way places in Alaska, Nebraska, Iowa, and New Zealand. After three years working with a Community Health Center, I went back to traveling and adventures in temporary positions. Assignments in Alaska, rural Iowa, suburban Pennsylvania and western Nebraska have followed.  I finished my most recent assignment in Clarinda on May 18.  Right now I’m in northern British Columbia, getting a first-hand look at the Canadian system. Any identifiable patient information has been included with permission.

The day on call went smooth and slow to start, with fine, solid naps in the morning and afternoon, caring for 5 patients. On the brink of leaving for the day on time, I knew I had to stay when the ambulance radioed in news of two injuries from the highway.

I have to confess my ambivalence when it comes to airbags. Front airbags don’t add much safety to modern seatbelts, too often they activate when they shouldn’t.  Side airbags, on the other hand, provide another layer of protection that saves lives.

I have never before attended survivors of crashes where airbags deployed. I developed the term “bag rash” to denote an abrasion from the airbag, and the patient gave me permission to write about it (and more).

Right when most people would sit down to dinner, the ambulance brought in another patient with problems exceeding our hospital’s capacities; in fact, requiring trained escort for the trip to Prince George.

The responsibility fell to me because nursing staff could not be spared from the hospital.

The back of the ambulance amplifies a road’s imperfections. I did my best to meditate through my nausea as we sped down the highway.

We stopped at the EMS station at the halfway point. Not all stretchers (in EMS-speak, carts) can lock securely in all ambulances (EMS-speak, cars).  I can’t detail here the complications that demanded a change of ambulances and crews, but I got to stretch my legs and breathe in the cool pure air, and ride in a much more comfortable seat.

I turned the patient over to the ER doctor, we volleyed a bit of French, and then I had to confess to the staff I’m not really Canadian. I have been working on my accent, after all, and I don’t obviously sound like an American at this point.

Then I called a taxi: the ambulance that met us would only go back as far as the halfway point.

A very long time ago, my pre-med biology lab partner drove cab, I rode with her a couple of times. She clued me into the details of the business.  In the States, the cab company rents cars to drivers.  The drivers don’t start making money till they’ve made up the fee, and some shifts they don’t make any money at all.  Bidding on the best cabs goes by seniority, and the new drivers (at that time) drove uncomfortable, unsafe vehicles.

As we rode, I interviewed the driver, just like I interview patients. He speaks fluent Punjabi and Hindi and a bits of Tagalog and Mandarin, but has forgotten the French required of all students in Canadian schools.  His English carried a perfect northern British Columbia accent, but I found out he’d been born in India and at age 10 moved to the very town we were headed to.  As the daylight faded into twilight, and as the long northern twilight deepened to dark, I listened.  He worked in the pulp and paper business till age 55 and started driving cab a couple of years later.  He doesn’t rent the hack from the owner; he keeps 45% of his fares.  He makes good money in the winter, but not in the summers.

We came into town in the darkness, talking about aurora borealis. He pointed out places from his youth, but had to be directed to the new hospital.  He showed me where the movie theater used to be.  They changed the films three times a week, he said, and he went to all the movies, and that’s where he’d learned English.

When he dropped me off at the hospital, I looked at the fare on the meter, and I was glad that the trip had been worth his while.

I dropped the unused morphine and the crash bag at the nurse’s station and walked back to the hotel. I hoped for a glimpse of Northern Lights in the moonless sky, but the clouds hid the stars.