A Probie's First Callout- Part 2

"Jason, you have your pack ready?"
"Yes maam"
"Good, follow Kenny, you're chief medical, don't fuck up"

You
Have
Got
to be
Kidding
Me

That was, word for word, what went through my head. I shoved the trauma kit and an extra pig rig into my pack as it was thrown at me (memo to self, bring a bigger pack next time), an extra liter of water, and resisted the urge to piss and vomit.

We started up the "trail" in two teams that quickly caught each other. Trail is really a loose term for a deer path up some quasi scree. After a wrong turn, Kenny and I found ourselves at the front of the group and were able to stretch our legs out a little.

I would like to digress for a second into one of the reasons I really liked this rescue (and hopefully rescues in the future). I've always had an aptitude for endurance sports. I was an elite cyclist, I ran in high school, I've always been able to hump the heavy pack really fast for a long time. This was, however, the first time that it actually meant something. Whatever genetics I was born with or hard work I've put into my heart, legs, and lungs finally was able to do something other than just cross a white line in the middle of nowhere....

Because there was no helicopter in the air it was hard for us to know exactly where our patient (victim?) was. We had a general idea from the team members in the helicopter who had dropped a survival bag to him but the perspective from the air and from the ground are vastly different. The survival bag contained glow sticks but they were all but worthless in the deep scrub oak we were fighting.

Kenny and I found ourselves in deeper vegetation and on a steep side hill fighting the branches that obstructed our way, and periodically yelling but never getting a response. In the 45min it took us to hike the 1800 vertical feet in there were a lot of thoughts in my head. Was our patient still conscious? Still alive? Are we in the right draw? Did we pass him? I had no frame of reference with which to base anything on and we kept pushing.

Bright yellow green is not a color that belongs in the woods, but visualizing the glow sticks from the survival bag made my bag feel lighter and upped our pace. Kenny had not been able to find them but trusted me and we plowed oh so ungracefully through the woods towards it, cliffing ourselves out twice, and finally descending to the patient.

I approached from the uphill side and the patient's head- usually not a good idea (I don't want to startle him nor make him crane his neck) but dictated by the terrain. He looked good, in the survival bag and yelling at us. I could see about 25feet of scree that had been disrupted when he fell- the MOI for a spinal compromise was certainly there.

"Hi, my name is Jason, I'm an EMT with ________ county search and rescue, what hurts?"

"My leg.... where's the helicopter?"

"Dude (yes, I called a patient dude...oops), there's no helicopter tonight, we're carrying you out."

"Oh shit"

Oh shit is right....