Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Ok so we were assigned to our spots in an empty building, with just some stuff being stored in it, for the rescuers to find. It takes a while for rescuers to get organized and start showing up so we sat around and talked. One of the consultant had a daughter that was also playing a victim, fourteen years old, like my son. She was a little bit of an insider and not mature enough to hide it, planing on being a difficult patient, but at the same time talking about bantering with the rescuers rather than playing the part completely. Oh well. I was lucky I didn't have a speaking part. I had to be unresponsive to suggestions, because of my head injury,
The first team to come through was the triage team, a team of two people sent in to just count who all is there and what condition they are in, and get out anyone who can walk (which we all were instructed that we couldn't). I had decided in my little warehouse corner, that I had gotten my injuries by falling to the floor over a box (which bruised my abdomen) and hitting my head on the concrete floor (for the head injury) and a stack of trashcans (clean) then having toppled over onto me and broken my arm. I was face down which would make it a bit more challenging for the extrication team that came after, because they would have to turn me over to get me onto the backboard.
I thought the triage team was great. They got that I was a red tag, since I was unresponsive. They identified themselves to me as they were supposed to, and they got going quickly. Then we got to wait quite a while before the extrication teams made it to the right building . . . One of my fellow victims was supposed to be preggers, which she thought was rather ridiculous at her age, but what the hey. One of the monitors had loved my performance and had videotaped it with her iphone. I couldn't see it very well because I hadn't put my reading glasses on, but she and the daughter there thought it was hilarious. Probably not me, but the reaction of the triage team to my carrying on. Whenever I was being treated, I had my eyes closed, so I was kind of in my own little world.
The Extrication teams finally did start coming in the building, but I was in the back so I wasn't the first out of the red tags. When they did come for me, they did a good job of moving all the crap away from me so they had some room. I had already warned my fellow victims that I was going to scream loudly when they jostled my broken arm, and there was no chance they could roll me over without doing that. They did a fine job of rolling me over and onto the back board (took them a while to come up with the head immobilizer though). During the process of rolling me over my "broken" arm lay across my body, and I grabbed it with my other hand to keep it splinted against my body, figuring I would have the presence of mind to "stop pain" anyway.
Because my arms were across my body they did not do a good job of the feel down they were supposed to do to find injuries, and so didn't even find my broken arm--all they knew about was my bleeding ear. However, they did a good job finally of strapping me down and carried quite well out to the truck and off to the medical area. They talked to me well too and tried to calm me down (I finally calmed down when I was strapped down and it felt kind of comfortable actually. At least I was off that cold concrete! And I figured my arm would now be more comfortable pinned against my body).
I'll write up the medical tent tomorrow. There isn't that much to go.