Yesterday was the team’s first exercise of the year, so at 0800 I headed up to base. It was to be a day of medical workstations, where we had a number of scenarios to work our way around. We headed off to RAC Corner and spent the day there looking at various scenarios in the biting cold wind and occasional rain, sleet, hail and snow.
By about four o’clock, we were happy with the material we’d covered and were just packing the kit up and getting ready to head back to base after an impromptu snowball fight when the radio crackled into life. Mark stuck his head out of the control vehicle and shouted – and people scrambled for kit and vehicles as the game was on – a callout.
I jumped into the first response vehicle and off we shot up to Porth yr Ogof, an entrance to the Dan Yr Ogof cave complex. We had reports of a female who’d fallen 5m inside the cave entrance. We were pointed at a nearby farm and we quickly set up control in the back yard of a surprised household, as our control vehicle, two landrovers, a police car, an ambulance and an ambulance officer’s car all flooded in. A quick survey of the situation showed that the Air Ambulance was already on scene, but the casualty was
down inside the cave. We asessed the situation and decided that without the proper equipment, it was too dangerous for us to head down inside the cave. One of our members was an experienced caver however, so he headed down to give immediate first aid and to get an idea of what the situation was.
Cave Rescue were quickly on scene, and with the light fading fast, we helped as they rigged up their ropes and disappeared behind the small waterfall into a hole that looked far too small. The Air Ambulance pilot had a quick chat with the Incident Controller and we quickly realised that because the Air Ambulance cannot fly at night, they would have to leave in under an hour. The rescue, however, was likely to take several hours, so they headed back to their aircraft and flew back to Swansea. A quick call to 169,
the RAF Search and Rescue SeaKing based in Chivenor gave us air cover for the incident since we were treating the casualty for spinal injuries.
We settled down for a long wait, providing much-needed oxygen and supplies for the cave rescue team as they carefully extracted the casualty. A sudden call from the Police sargeant at control – they had reports of 3 more cavers overdue from another cave system in the next valley over, initial enquiries were still being conducted. The cave rescue controller looked tiredly at the radio. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Finally, around 2000, we started to raise the casualty out of the cave. As soon as she came out, the Ambulance and RAF paramedics checked her over and we carefully but quickly carried her to the waiting helicopter. The weather had come in by now, which meant that winching wasn’t a possibility. We watched quietly as the SeaKing powered up and took off into the night, the pilots using their night vision goggles to see in the dark.
Getting the rest of the cave rescue team out and all the equipment took some time, but finally everything was being washed down with a hosepipe in the farmyard and it wasn’t long before we headed back to base, with the Cave Rescue lads heading back to the Penwyllt center, although it appeared as though their 3 missing cavers had turned up. Vehicles and equipment were stripped once we got back, all the mud washed off and most of the kit then went into our drying room to dry out. By the time we locked up ready to go home, it was almost 2230, and Mal and I stopped for a take-away on the way home.
Arriving at my house, we had one last surprise in store – Louisa’s car wouldn’t start, so after eating our food, I drove Mal back to Cardiff. When I finally got home, tired, slowly drying out, cold, muddy, oh and did I mention tired? Sean packed me straight off to bed, without much complaint from me. I’m still tired today, so tonight is going to be a night of relaxation and just chilling out.
Update: Just a quick “Hi” to the lads and lasses of the University of Bristol Spelaeological Society who arranged this trip.
She couldn’t breathe. She’d had a cold over Christmas and between that and her asthma, she’d done her back in. Now it was January – cold outside, and her asthma was playing up. She got her inhaler out and took a few puffs, giving it some time to work. She felt the airways tightening and took a few more puffs before heading over to her nebuliser. She snapped the top off of a small bottle of clear liquid and put it in the right place before turning the nebuliser on – a fine white mist coming out of the mask as
the compresser rumbled into life.
After a few minutes on this she was usually fine, but something was different today. The pain in her back was just making things worse. She looked at her husband and with the ease of years of marriage, the silent communication between them was flawless.
“Ambulance?” She nodded, unable to answer him. He called 999, telling the operator all their details, all of the time her breathing becoming more and more laboured. An ambulance was on its way apparently, and after a few minutes he thought he heard a siren in the distance. Everything went quiet until he suddenly noticed figures approaching the door. One in blue, two in green, and two more in blue with fluorescent jackets.
Their living room turned into a treatment room. Oxygen cylinders, masks and piping, sterile packaging torn open, syringes safely tucked away in a yellow box, little bottles containing what was left of a clear liquid. More equipment came from the ambulance, a toolbox full of small packages with odd names; a machine with lots of cables coming off it; bag full of white plastic pipes all wrapped in sealed packages. A chair unfolded, a blanket appeared and all the time, the two in green – obviously taking the
lead – talking to each other in numbers and strange words. “Oh-two sats looking good now. Bee-pee one-twenty-three over eighty. Two hundred mill, flush.” He wrapped his arms around his sobbing daughter and son, holding them close to him, keeping their faces buried in his jacket, protecting them from this scene.
She was moved to the chair. Which hospital? Oh, right. he made hurried arrangements for someone to follow him in the car as everyone moved out to the ambulance. He could see two cars nearby, both with their hazards on – looks like that’s where the guys in navy came from. One of the guys in green thanked the three in navy, and they each gave him a number before they walked off to a car, one talking on a mobile.
“Yes, hiya, it’s Aled from the Caerphilly first responders, can you show us clear from this current call please? Right….yes…two-two-oh-seven. Right. Sorry? Ok.” A pause. “Yes, certainly. Where? Trecenydd. Chest pain. Ok, show us mobile.” To his colleagues in navy: “Nigel, red call. We’re off again.”
They waved as the guy in green shut the door on the wet night and we moved off.
I found this little gem this morning. It’s amused me and reminded me of a conversation I had with someone recently:
CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL THE KIDS WHO WERE BORN IN THE 1940’s, 50’s, 60’s and 70’s !!
First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they carried us. They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a tin, and didn’t get tested for diabetes. Then after that trauma, our baby cots were covered with bright coloured lead-based paints. We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention, the risks we took hitch-hiking . As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags. Riding in
the back of a van – loose – was always great fun. We drank water from the garden hosepipe and NOT from a bottle. We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this. We ate cakes, white bread and real butter and drank pop with sugar in it, but we weren’t overweight because……
WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!!
We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on. No one was able to reach us all day… And we were O.K. We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem . We did not have Playstations, Nintendo’s, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 99 channels on cable, no video tape movies, no surround sound, no Mobile
phones, no text messaging, no personal computers, no Internet or Internet chat rooms……….WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them! We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents . We played with worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever. Made up games with sticks and tennis balls and although we were told it would happen, we did not poke out any eyes. We rode bikes or walked to a friend’s house and knocked on
the door or rang the bell, or just yelled for them! Local teams had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn’t had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!
The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of – they actually sided with the law! This generation has produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever! The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas. We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned…
HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!
Kinda makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn’t it?!
Aren’t emotions funny things?
Within the space of 10 minutes, I had a fantastic high off a phone call which may be giving me something I’ve been waiting for a few years for and wasn’t expecting for another few years[1]; followed by an incredible low after another phone call telling me my bank had fucked up. Bah. I hate banks.
So last night we had another shout with the first responders. I’d been in the house all day cleaning up and generally getting things ready for tonight’s game when the phone rang. I scribbled the address down. Hang on, let’s check that…yup, across the village.
So off I went to see a retired gentleman with chest pains. Since I had all of about half a mile to travel I was unsurprisingly first on scene. Richard quickly arrived behind me, followed fairly rapidly by an ambulance. Fortunately, these chest pains were looking like a GI infection, so the crew took him in, thanked us for being there, and we left. Job done – not much we can do for people like that really, but I’m sure that it helped his anxiety and his wife’s to see “Ambulance” staff arriving so quickly. We did
give him some Oxygen, which probably did help as well.
[1] This still isn’t confirmed yet, so I’m afraid I’ll have to keep you in the dark for some time yet.
Ok, so now I have at first hand a better idea of what Tom Reynolds talks about in his blog.
I was on duty again with the first responders last night. Since Sean’s heading back to Aber for a bit tonight, I decided a nice home-cooked dinner was in order – in hindsight perhaps not the best of ideas. As Sod’s Law defines, the call came just as everything was coming ready, so with a few hurried instructions, Sean was left in charge as I shot off across Caerphilly. I have to admit it was a miserable night, with extremely heavy rain at times. I turned the last corner and heard TomTom utter those wonderful
words “Ahead, you have reached your destination. (pause) You have reached your destination.” I could see the back of the ambulance from where I was and saw somone with reflective clothing cross the road. I pulled up and jumped out.
The ambulance had arrived about the same time as we had. I wandered over to find patient and parent sat in the dry, warm back of the ambulance as we hovered outside trying to stay dry. My colleague and I headed back to the warmth of my car to fill in the paperwork, and after a call to ambulance control, we were done and I could head home to save my dinner from the oven.
What life-threatening emergency drew us out on such a miserable night? Tonsilitis. Apparently, it had been reported as “Swollen throat with partial upper airway obstruction.” I believe the patient and parent made their own way into the hospital, freeing the ambulance up for a more needy patient.
*sigh*
Having returned from Sean’s I let the coordinator for our First Responder group know that I was available to respond, and it seems as though we’re a little short handed for tomorrow. As a result, from about 1000 tomorrow morning, I’m on duty along with one of my colleagues for the whole day. I’ve no idea if we’ll get any calls at all, but if we do, I’ll post a short description here as soon as I can afterwards. So, here we go. All our training and preparation leads up to this. Let’s see how tomorrow goes.
…the light that we looked at tonight started its journey across the Universe.
For the first time since I got to Sean’s we had a clear sky tonight, so Sean and I threw a few extra layers of clothes on and started assembling my telescope. Its a cracking good telescope – a 6″ reflector with a tripod, equatorial mount, drive motors and a small collection of lenses. So we aligned the scope with Polaris and started looking around to see what we could find.
Living this close to London has its disadvantages though, since we had aircraft flying through our path a few times. Finally, after fiddling a lot with various controls, lenses and so on, we finally managed to focus on something fairly simple – Orion’s Sword. After focusing I realised that what we were looking at was not a star, but had a diffuse glow around one side – a nebula.
Stepping up the lenses we zoomed in and finally focused on a nebula that filled the viewfinder. A few stars huddled together in the middle of this cloud of gas, the light from the stars making the dust and gas glow millions of miles away.
After checking our start charts, we’ve been looking at M42, The Great Orion Nebula. There are some far better pictures on the net than what we saw tonight…but nothing compares to standing there in the cold with the knowledge that the light that just entered your eyes took over 1,600 years to arrive. That star might not be there anymore, but if it disappeared today, we wouldn’t find out for another 1600 years. More than anything,
this sight tonight showed me how small and insignificant we are.
Well, I’ve been away for a few days, so I’ve not attended any callouts, but here’s a quick rundown of the callouts over the last few days:
Friday 22nd (Technically Saturday morning)Â
Drove to my Mother’s on Friday and was about to go to bed when the pager went off – 0114 according to my pager. It was a search in Pontardawe – I was leaving for north Wales in the morning so I couldn’t attend and we were eventually stood down around 0900 the following morning.
Tuesday 26th (Boxing day)Â
At 1411 we received an area call to near Hay Bluff – the ambulance service needed assistance to evacuate a casualty and that was stood down at 1505 – not quite sure what confusion if any was surrounding this one as there were a few odd pager messages – I guess I’ll find out Thursday.
About twenty minutes later at 1526 the pager went off again. This time a search near Crickhowell – a member of the public reported hearing cries of help. At this point I was on my way home and could have responded, but as I was driving back from Carmarthen I spoke with Huw who confirmed that they were going to be standing down shortly and indeed at 2237 we were stood down. No evidence of any missing persons or persons requiring assistance were found.
Thursday 28th
That’s today, this afternoon at 1655 we received a call to search for 3 missing persons with an RV in the Neuadd Valley, our usual stomping ground. At 1957 I got a standdown, telling us the casualties had been evacuated by Sea King. Sounds serious, as helicopter evacuation tends to be reserved for those who are very ill – although advanced hypothermia can be a perfectly valid reason for helevac – hypothermia kills, easier than most people credit it.
So, a busy week so far and I’ve attended none of them…typical. Looks like we’ll easily hit 80 callouts this year if we haven’t already.
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Yes, thanks to all who let me know the formatting is borked – that’s the last time I write it offline in Word. Thanks Microsoft.
I’ll fix it shortly…
Update: All the recent posts are now sorted.