I was doing my preceptorship for Paramedic school, it was about 2 o'clock in the morning, when the tones went off. Dispatch dramatically sent us to a 31 y/o male in possible cardiac arrest. The call was about five minutes out. About three minutes enroute, dispatch called us back- on the radio- for everyone in radio land to hear. Dispatch screamed for us to hurry- um duh! the dang thing only runs 90 and it's to the floor. Dispatch tells us that they have the patient on the line and he is definetly in cardiac arrest, he's sure of it. What the *&$^%!

So, being the "lead" on the call, I calmly get back on the radio and ask dispatch how many people are with the patient(I'm trying to be professional and not lose it), when dispatch informs me that no one is with the patient- the only occupant of the home is the patient and we need to hurry- because he knows he's in cardiac arrest. Well alrighty then.  At this point we are on scene. No sooner did we arrive, than the patient came running out of the house- screaming that he is in cardiac arrest and we need to hurry, then he drops to the ground and starts kicking and waving his arms.

At this point I am not a happy camper. It's 2 in the morning, we have run all day, I have not even eaten anything yet, and I'm tired. Being that I am one of two females that work at our service- I tend to catch alot of flack, so I'm just loving this call- knowing that it will get back to my hometown crew.

So, no longer concerned with what my preceptor or anyone else thought (again, remember that I am hungry, tired, and female- hear me roar) I walk up to the patient and did the best dang sternal rub in the history of EMS. The patient jumps up and runs about 10 feet, drops to the ground and begins the flopping thing. So, I calmly walk over to him, lean very closely to his face, and inform him that he called us for cardiac arrest and this looks like he's trying to have some lame seizure- so he lays still now, and I wait about 30 seconds before speaking again. You could hear a pin drop in the still night air. Then this little critter cracks one eye to see if I am concerned- so I told my preceptor to get our lifepak12 and bring it to me. I figured this critter wanted to play, so I would play.

My preceptor just stared at me- so I preceeded to inform him that I wanted it now- since this pt is in cardiac arrest- so he went and got it. I told the other medic to get me a backboard, and a lot of straps, and he did. We rapidly secured the patient to the board, and when I say secured, I mean it.

Then I snatched his shirt open, stuck the pads to him, turned the energy level to the lowest possible, told everyone to clear, and I zapped his butt. He let out a holler that would raise the dead. When he asked why I did that, I told him that's what we do for pts in cardiac arrest. He told me he wasn't in cardiac arrest anymore, I told him he was- and I lit him up again. The poor little critter couldn't run or fight back because I had him strapped to that board.

I then proceeded to start a 14 ga in each JV- oh yeah- because "IVs save Lives" right? Then I made the crew help me put him on the stretcher, and we took his butt to the hospital.

On the way back to the station, not one word was said. I finally couldn't take the silence any longer, and asked my preceptor should I pack my stuff when we returned to the station. His only reply was laughter. He and the other medic laughed so hard, tears were streaming down their face.

Two days later I returned to the station for another shift with the same crew. Again we ran all day. We pulled into the station just long enough to walk inside and unzip our boots, when the tones went off. It was exactly 2 am. Dispatch was sending us about a half mile away from the station, for a patient that was unconcious/unresponive on the sidewalk.

When we arrived it was my little friend. I was so furious I could have bitten a broom handle into. I calmly walked over to him, checked for ABCs, and sent my preceptor after a backboard and straps. We got the patient on the board for round two. We went ahead and loaded him into the truck before I started in on him. This time I tried talking to him, he ignored me, so I did the sternal rub. The little critter learned from his previos run in with me- He was wearing a foam pad over his sternum- I am not kidding. So- I shoved an ammonia stick into each nostrile. He began coughing and sputtering and begging me to take them out, so I did, but the little critter "went out" on me again! That's it- I am not playing anymore. 2 more ammonia sticks and then got a 14 ga. needle out, lifted his little eyelid, held the 2 inch long needle in front of him so he could see it, leaned down and whispered the sweet nothings of a pissed off medic into his ear. It went something to the effect of: If he didn't wake up I would shoot him full of atropine until his heart exploded in his chest, and no one would ever know what happened- there would be no witnesses. He immediately "came too" and a police officer, who also happens to be a good friend of mine, arrived on scene and escorted the critter to the local jail, where he served 7 days in confinement.

As for me, our crew was called into the chief's office that morning at shift change. As I sat there, feeling as if I was in the "principals' office", wondering what was going to happen, the chief looked at me, then my preceptor, then the other medic, and asked what the *&^$% happened?! So, I told him. I told him everything. Then he asked if I was sorry, and I figured why lie now- No sir, I am not sorry. I am fed up. Then he said that he has never in his 30 years of being the chief seen someone have the guts to pull that off, let alone a student that was not even a medic yet, or on his payroll. HE then started laughing, and between bouts of laughter he told my preceptor that it was ashame that a little tiny girl- no offense to me or any other woman, had more b@lls than any man working for him. He then offered me a job and said I was welcome there anytime, as long as I promised not to actually do the things I threatened the patient with that day. I promised- now they call me "lite 'em up Jessie". And that's how I did it in Dixie ;) To this day, not one crew has had to go back to that critter again.

This is one of those "Don't try this at home things" you might get in trouble.