Good story.. some people are elated when lives are saved, some aren't.
Took a man in, prolly fourteen years ago. Man was home w/ his youngest child, had no medical info written down, and the kid knew nothing - except how to dial 911. So, we get there, and he's pretty well grey-blue, fish out of water resps, pulse low enough to actually start CPR. The kid is calm and cooperative as could be, which worried me even more..b/c that just ain't normal. But just said he fell asleep.
Do CPR on and off for damn near an hour and a half, the third person w/ us couldn't do compressions, so I was on cloud nine when the patient finally just woke up...after a second hit of Narcan. I'd been an EMT for two months, I was too new to know that was given. Now I know the ALS protocols as well as the BLS. Anyhewww.. The wife comes in, and I'm sitting in the waiting room doing my report, all red, sweaty..and in a brilliantly colored jumpsuit that had our name on the back. She asks if I was the person who worked on her husband, I stand up, and just as I sit the clip board down, she hauls off and punches me in the back of the head, then the nose with the other hand. Blood everywhere.
The man had terminal cancer and OD'd on liquid morphine from the pain. She left for the night b/c it was planned, what wasn't planned was that the kid would call 911 before he was too far gone to bring back.The kid never told us he had cancer and he was so ashen and cyanotic, you couldn't tell he was yellow. Not even his eyes. Then when in cuffs, she realized his folder of medical info, normally on the fridge, was in her car.. I didn't press charges, but I haven't spoken to her since.
Holy shit, I can't type, spell or form sentences this morning!