Rescue 1 Responding: Chapter 14, a Book by Michael Morse
Monday, August 29, 2016
I always thought that a day in the life of a Providence Firefighter assigned to the EMS division would make a great book. One day I decided to take notes. I used one of those little yellow Post it note pads and scribbled away for four days. The books Rescuing Providence and Rescue 1 Responding are the result of those early nearly indecipherable thoughts.
I’m glad I took the time to document what happens during a typical tour on an advanced life support rig in Rhode Island’s capitol city. Looking back, I can hardly believe I lived it. But I did, and now you can too. Many thanks to GoLocalProv.com for publishing the chapters of my books on a weekly basis from now until they are through. I hope that people come away from the experience with a better understanding of what their first responders do, who they are and how we do our best to hold it all together,
Enjoy the ride, and stay safe!
GET THE LATEST BREAKING NEWS HERE -- SIGN UP FOR GOLOCAL FREE DAILY EBLASTCaptain Michael Morse (ret.)
Providence Fire Department
The book is available at local bookstores and can be found HERE.
Note From the Author
While we are in the thick of things we respond, put people back together, or not and move on to the next one. Every now and then the person we can’t put back together is ourselves. So we hide the feelings, put them away where they should stay away. As time progresses and the things we try to hide have nowhere else to go because the place we put them are full, cracks in the compartments in our mind appear, and those painful memories creep out of the shadows with tire irons, bats and sometimes bombs in hand and beat us senseless. After twenty-five years there are a lot of things lurking. The girl who fell from the escalator at The Providence Place Mall lives inside of my head, and shows up uninvited when I least expect it. And so do hundreds more.
Chapter 14
1445 hrs. (2:45 p.m.)
“Rescue 3 are you available?” comes from the truck radio.
“Should I lie?” I ask Al.
“One small lie leads to bigger ones.”
“Thanks Dad. Rescue 3 in service, what have you got?”
“Respond to the Providence Place for a seizure in the food court.”
“On the way.”
Al hits the lights and siren and we are on our way to the mall.
“Head to the south side,” I tell Al.
“The north side is easier,” he says.
“I want to go through the south side.” I say.
“Then we’ll have to walk twice as far.”
“It’s not that far. Last week I saw a girl Brittany’s age fall from the escalator on the north side, I want to avoid that scene if at all possible.”
“You had that?” says Al.
“Me and Tim Kelly. Ladder 4 was first on scene.
“What happened?”
“I was working overtime on Rescue 5. It was pretty quiet until about midnight, and then things got crazy. We had just gotten back in quarters from another run when a call came in for a female who had fallen at the mall. We followed Ladder 4 there. As we made our way to the scene things just felt wrong. When I got to the stairs I saw her, and I knew right away she wasn’t going to make it. She was so still, and a pool of blood was forming around her head. Mall security was there but didn’t know what to do. I asked one of them what happened and he told me she fell from the escalator. I looked up and saw the only place she could have fallen from and landed where she did was at least forty feet up.”
“What did you do?”
“It took a while to get the stretcher to her, by that time the guys from Ladder 4 had done an assessment. She didn’t have a pulse and wasn’t breathing. Johnny Morgan tried to put a collar on her and felt the back of her head was soft. We put her on a board, got her on a stretcher and into the truck. Somebody started a line, I tried but couldn’t intubate her and we got rolling. We ran a trauma code on the way to the ER and had a pulse when we got there.
“That was pretty good,” says Al.
“Not good enough. I was hoping we saved her, but when I asked the doctor later how she was doing he told me that she was being kept alive for organ donation.”
“That’s pretty harsh.”
“I thought so too, but the reality is we kept her going long enough for her parents and fiancé to say goodbye. Whether or not she heard is anybody’s guess.”
“Not much of a victory.”
“No kidding, but it’s better than nothing. A couple of days later I read her obituary in the paper. She was about to graduate college and become a teacher. She had a son and was getting married this summer. Do you know what I remember most about the whole thing?”
“No, what.”
“Next to where she fell was a stuffed Spider Man doll. She had been at Dave and Buster's and probably won it and couldn’t wait to give it to her son. I saw it when we were wheeling her out; that and the pool of blood where her head had been. I wonder if the stain is still there.”
Al pulls the truck in front of the south entrance.
“A little extra walking won’t kill us,” he says.
“Thanks.”
Mall security meets us at the door and escorts us through the labyrinth behind the pretty façade. The management likes to keep us out of sight for as long as possible. After a few minutes and an elevator ride, we are allowed entry to the food court. It is teeming with people. Alone at a table off to the side sits a middle-aged woman drinking a beverage through a straw from a plastic cup. Security points her out.
“What happened to her?” I ask the guard.
“I don’t know, they told me to take you to her, that’s all.”
“Thanks.”
We keep the stretcher out of sight and walk over to our patient.
“Hello,” says Al.
“How are you feeling?” I add.
“Fine, I don’t need any help and I’m not going anywhere,” she tells us.
“That’s fine with us, but somebody called and said that you had a seizure,” I tell her.
“I may have had a little one, but I’m fine now.”
She appears to have a developmental disability. Her day at the mall is likely something that she looks forward to and I don’t want to take that away. However, if she did have a seizure, another could be imminent and she could get hurt.
“How did you get here?” I ask.
“The bus.”
“Is there anybody here with you?”
“Nope.”
“Do you have a history of seizures?”
“I do but I take my medication every day,” she states emphatically.
“I’m going to ask you some simple questions to determine if you are able to make good decisions,” I tell her. “Do you know what day it is?”
“Nope. Doesn’t matter.” She has a point.
“Do you know the date?”
“Stupid question. If I don’t care what day it is why should I care about the date.”
“Got me. Do you know who is President?”
“Bill Clinton,” she says. That is good enough for me. I am a threat to her independence so she has no intention of cooperating. She has shown me some spark and a quick wit. I am sure she will be fine.
“You’re doing better than me,” I tell her. “If you feel a seizure coming on or have any pain anywhere don’t wait until it’s too late, call for help,” I say.
“Have a nice day,” she says and gets up and walks away
Michael Morse lives in Warwick, RI with his wife, Cheryl, two Maine Coon cats, Lunabelle and Victoria Mae and Mr. Wilson, their dog. Daughters Danielle and Brittany and their families live nearby. Michael spent twenty-three years working in Providence, (RI) as a firefighter/EMT before retiring in 2013 as Captain, Rescue Co. 5. His books, Rescuing Providence, Rescue 1 Responding, Mr. Wilson Makes it Home and his latest, City Life offer a poignant glimpse into one person’s journey through life, work and hope for the future. Morse was awarded the prestigious Macoll-Johnson Fellowship from The Rhode Island Foundation.
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