Run Sheet
99/11/26
355 MVA Rescue
Dealing with dead people is part of my job, not part that I enjoy, but one of the things that unfortunately has to be done.
Yesterday I was in the right place at the right time, or vice versa depending on how you look at it. I was out at one of our firehalls working on a piece of equipment that is stored there when they got tapped out for a 5 car MVA on the highway. I hopped in my van and rolled out ahead of the pumper to see what was what.
It was raining hard, in big, fat drops that bounce when they hit the pavement. Raining so hard you can't look up.
A 5-car pileup on that part of highway could be nasty, but the dispatch called it as an MVA, not an MVA Rescue. The difference is subtle, but important.
An MVA call could be anything from injuries or none, often just a matter of cleaning up spilled fluids, disconnecting batteries, or directing traffic. An MVA Rescue means there are persons trapped, or in need of critical assistance. I rolled to the scene expecting there to be a some whacked cars, some people bruised, maybe some bleeding.
Traffic was heavy and stopped, so I dialled my van into the oncoming lane with my lights and siren doing what they could. I swear some people drive blind and deaf, three different people decided to do U-turns right in front of me and looked stunned to see an emergency vehicle right in front of them. A hundred feet from the scene I knew this wasn’t gonna be what I thought. Cars were strewn across the highway like toys tossed by a kid.
“Dispatch; I’m on scene and in command, I’ve got a multi-vehicle MVA with injuries, give me a rescue response to this call”
That got the Rescue rig rolling with the jaws and everything else we were gonna need.
The first car I saw was a big 4X4 sitting across its lane with a crumpled front quarter and a bleeding guy standing beside it, I pulled up further and saw the second car, a little blue one torn almost in half. The driver’s door was open and the driver was slumped forward but moving, he was hurt bad. The rear-seat passenger was dead, very obviously dead. The front passenger was dead too I thought at first glance, but when I touched him he moved. “Not gonna be that way long” I thought as I looked around for the next car.
Just as an aside, the first thing needed on a scene like that is what’s called “Triage” that is when the first rescuer on scene decides which of the injured requires immediate treatment, and which can wait. My job on that scene was not to treat the injured, my job was to co-ordinate their treatment and rescue. It’s not an easy thing to do, to walk past someone who desperately needs help, so that you can decide on priorities, it’s got to be done though. These are the things that haunt my dreams, but that’s another long story.
The next car was wrapped around a power pole with a young fellow sitting in it, there were many people there, wanting to do something but not knowing what. I stopped twenty feet away and looked up. Many people have been killed from downed power lines in these situations. As I was gazing upward at the lines a kindly old lady tugged at my sleeve and gently said;
“He’s not up there young man, he’s in the car” indicating the injured driver.
Its weird how funny moments pop up in these places.
There ended up being six injury patients and the one fatality.
Once the pumper arrived I was able to allocate people to start treating people, and things really started happening. I called dispatch with information on what we had, and to update ambulance cops were arriving left and right, ambulances started rolling in, firetrucks were pulling up. It could have been chaos, but everyone knew their job. There were five cars involved, and everyone got treated in a timely manner
Throughout it all the dead guy lay there, we got a blanket over him as soon as we could, but we still all knew he was there.
When it came time for the coroner to have us remove the body I didn’t need to give an order. Six men got out two big tarps and held them up around the car. For some reason people want to see the dead. We’ve seen too much of them and this is the final act of dignity we can extend to them, to not allow them to become a spectacle. Newspaper photographers have found themselves tossed in ditches for not getting the hint.
Rank hath its privilege, that privilege is the honour of leading good men.
***
Now a word about heroes.
I am not a hero, neither are my men. We are highly trained professionals and as such are very careful, skilled and knowledgeable. We take risks, but educated and calculated risks. We couldn’t do our job otherwise, but we’re never brash or foolhardy in the execution of our jobs. We do our jobs, with dedication and dedication. We’re not heroes. Heroes are people who do extraordinary things to help others in need.
Last night was horrible, the MVA happened at about 1540 (3:40 pm) it was just getting dusk here, mostly because the clouds were very low. It was raining incessantly, so hard the drops hurt my head.
In the command structure we use, the Ambulance personnel are responsible for final patient treatment, and make decisions based on that. They don’t need to ask my permission for anything, but they need to co-ordinate their actions with me.
It was rapidly getting dark as the ambulance commander came to me and explained that they were going to medevac the two guys from one car and a helicopter was on its way. I looked at her like she had dropped from another planet.
“In this shit??”
She just shrugged and said, “It’s on its way”
Ten minutes later I was dumbstruck when the unmistakable sound reached me, a snarl like I’ve never heard before. From behind a copse of trees this white apparition materialized with a whistling roar like an avenging angel, it wheeled over our heads with its strobe lights snapping like a serpent’s tongue, its nose sniffed in a slow circle and floodlights snapped on.
There wasn’t the slightest hesitation. The big chopper did one circuit of the scene and lined up like it was on rails. It dropped dead straight with its nose on the yellow centre line of the highway. The tips of its rotors were no more than ten feet from the power lines on either side of the road. No hesitation, no indecision, it was truly a sight to behold.
“Man, that pilot’s got balls” breathed the lieutenant beside me.
“Big brass ones” I answered.
The engine idled as the patients were put on board and secured. The Leut and I walked over so we could see in the cockpit and wave to the pilot. I had to see the man that had flown that thing in this impossible weather, and carried out that awesome landing; I wanted to know someone man enough to pull that off.
Once we got there, even with the bulky flight helmet she wore, it was crystal clear that the pilot was a woman. We grinned at her and waved, she waved back, we flipped her thumbs up, and she did likewise. Next we knew her chopper leapt into the air like god pulled a string, its nose dipped in the direction of the trauma centre and it was swallowed in the murk
I looked at my lieutenant, he said “Man, she’s got….”
We looked at each other for a minute, confused.
“Ovaries” I said
“Yeah, big brass ones” He said.
Was she a hero? I dunno for sure
But she’s got my vote.