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Kids Don't Have Heart Attacks!: Paramedic Stories (By Hector Gonzales, EMT) by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Rated "PG" by the Author.
A paramedic writes about one of his more unusual calls and the mark it left upon his soul.
This particular event took place two years ago. I was just a young greenhorn paramedic, just barely out of training--and scared to death.
We were at our usual hangout: the firestation. We were looking forward to a lazy, boring day of nothing to do when the tones, those damned tones, sounded, sending us all into immediate action. It was about four in the afternoon.
It was about this time two years ago. It was cold, it was snowy--and the wind only made it all the more brutal. Temps in the twenties, with single-digit windchills, too cold for this Southern California-bred dude!!
(Whatever possessed me to move to Tennessee?? I'm still asking myself that question now, two years later!!)
Anyway, we got our gear, jumped into the ambulance, took the call. It was for a child down. The child was not breathing, and the child--it was a boy--was getting full CPR by first responders. That's when they called for us--the big guns, the guys capable to bring a dying child (or adult) back from the clutches of death.
We screamed to the scene, lights and sirens on full-tilt boogie. We got there within moments. Already a firetruck and police cruiser were there, which told us that the police and firemen were on the job.
A fireman beckoned us to come in. There was me--Hector Gonzales, the "newbie"--, "Goose" and Wendell--the "professionals"--, and Angela Ruiz, who was new like me. "Goose" and Wen were businesslike as they took charge of the kid lying comatose on the floor (he looked comatose; that is, he wasn't moving, wasn't breathing), but as for Angela and myself, when we saw the kid, we nearly lost it.
I'd never seen anyone so close to death before. It scared me, bad. The kid's face was a frightening shade of blue, his lips were purple, his eyes were closed, and worst of all, the kid's chest wasn't moving.
A firefighter was pushing on his chest; "Goose" was at the kid's head, trying to shove an airway down his throat. He got it in; soon he attached a bag-valve mask to the kid, started squeezing the black rubber bag every few minutes while the firefighter continued chest compressions.
While "Goose" and Mr. Firefighter tried to revive the kid, I took the report from the kid's mother, who stood in the doorway, looking like she was about to jump out of her skin. She was on the verge of hysterics. I didn't blame her: I would be like that too if I saw my kid lying on the floor, not moving, not breathing like that.
Her son's name was Toby, she said. He was nine years old, always had been healthy until this happened. The kid was watching television when he suddenly keeled over--no warning whatsoever. When she tried to wake him up, she couldn't rouse him. She got scared; that's when she had her husband call for the ambulance.
Toby was a good looking kid: red hair, freckles all over his face, neck, arms, and shoulders, blue or grey eyes (we assumed they were), rather thin, yet fit in build. No weight worries for this kid--he was a perfect specimen of good health--that was until he keeled over, stopped breathing for whatever reason it was.
The heart monitor told the tale: flatline. the kid was asystole. No breathing, no pulse, no b/p. Heart attack. Not good, especially on a kid nine years old. It went against the laws of nature; kids were not supposed to have heart attacks!
"Get the bug zapper ready!" I told Mr. Firefighter. Once he hooked up the defibrillator, I shocked the kid by affixing the paddles on either side of the left nipple on his chest, and shouted: "Clear!" I then delivered an electric shock to the kid, sending the kid into a convulsive spasm as the shock reverberated throughout his body.
Nothing. Screen remained flatline. Continue CPR, get ready to shock again.
Of course, by this time, poor Mother was freaking out. I had Angela sit with her while we worked on her son, had her leave the room; it was upsetting her too badly. Angela tried to reassure the stricken woman; meanwhile we continued our resuscitive efforts on the boy lying on the ground in front of us.
It was all in vain. No matter what we did, the kid didn't respond. We continued CPR as we loaded him onto a stretcher, wheeled him out to the ambulance, loaded him up in one smooth, easy motion. Yet we weren't ready to give up on him, no not yet. We continued working on him as the ambulance burned rubber towards the nearest hospital--Nashville Children's.
We prayed, hoped for a miracle.
Unfortunately, despite our best efforts, the kid couldn't be saved. It was already too late by the time he'd been placed onto the table in the ER. Even the ER team tried to get him back--nothing. It wasn't to be. The kid was as dead as dead could be; nothing except a miracle from God would bring him back.
I then had the grim task of delivering the news to the parents. Of course, you can imagine how they reacted. They cried. They screamed. They cussed us out, calling us "no good baby killers". I will never forget the father's accusing words that hit me like stones: "You killed our boy; Goddamnit, you killed our only son!!"
We didn't kill him--the boy had an undiagnosed heart condition. That was what killed him, caused him to have a heart attack at the age of nine. We had nothing to do with it. We tried our best to save his life; oh, LORD, how we tried!!
Whenever a call involves a child (or even a baby), it just makes the situation more dire. Children are supposed to be full of life, playing, running around, having fun, not having things like heart attacks, strokes, or diseases that strike older people! Yet sometimes that happens, and we must be ready to deal with it. We don't like it, but death is as much part of life as life itself, and death is part of the game in paramedicdom.
Two years later, I still remember the awful screams on behalf of the parents as I told them their son died. I reemmber the kid's blueberry-colored face and our trying to save his ass. I remember the sound of the shock going through the kid's body, seeing his body arc upwards off the floor, as we delivered the electric jolt in the hopes that his heart would start beating again.
I remember the urgency of the situation, and I still have nightmares that plague me just about every night. Whenever a kid goes into crisis, I wonder if we are doing the right thing in trying to save them, and wonder if all the poking/prodding/pounding/stabbing/shocking is worth it.
Somehow I doubt it. More often than not when a kid or baby is in that kind of scenario, it doesn't look good, and the kid or baby ends up dying, even with everything we've tried to do. Or they end up handicapped for life, which is even worse.
I'm sorry, but I can't deal with it. I just--can't.
~Written by Hector Gonzales, EMT, Nashville, Tennessee.
Heartbreaking story. So sad, but, it does happen to children. A child at my grandchildren's school died four years ago from heart failure. This child had a heart condition. He was twelve years old. He and his parents knew he would probable not live to become a teenager. Well written.
Sadly many heart conditions go undected , until something happens. Para medics are great and help many , but some times its out of their hands.. A sad trueism.......M
I have know a 12 year old boy by the name of Michael who had a heart attack...was in hospital with MY boy Michael....they even shared the same bed..because the one died and the other one survived...and My Michael was moved to that bed!!
It moved us endlessly and we asked the nursing staff to move my child to another room!!
As a First Responder as Rose says you take a lot of the pain with you in each recue attempt that fails, although as a fire fighter, police officer or paramedic or first reponder you may save many lifes...the ones you lose haunt you.
I can feel the pain he is going through as my husband was a First Responder for the Firhall for nine years and he was responsible for all the Medical training there. He insructed with St. John's Ambulance for those years and still questioned himself when something like this happened.
So very sad and so very tragic, and the type of occurrence our truly brave and compassionate and caring policemen, firemen, and paramedics endure far too often. God bless them, and those grieving parents.
This one grabs you by the throat and won't. Let. Go. The title says it all: kids don't have heart attacks. But they do. World's a sad place...and this is a sad, sad write. Well done.
A poignant story about letting go of a narcissist in your life. Have you ever been attacked FULL force by a narcissist? It's the closest thing to being stabbed over and over in the back.
Suspenseful and close to home, Rain of Deception 2 will leave you in Tears. Much like Part 1, this will shocking sequel will keep you on the edge of your fingertips.
