The flight to get him help will be 45 minutes in duration.
We put headphones on all our conscious patients so we can keep them informed about the progress of the flight, and get input from them on what they are feeling.
Initially, he seems like a nice guy. He's anxious... making jokes. His blood pressure is high, bad for a head bleed, but it's not so high as to cause panic and my crew is chatting with him, trying to get him to relax.
And then my opinion of him changes. Over the intercom I hear him say, "That's a problem."
My paramedic responds, "What's that?"
"See that? See that vibration? That's a problem. This helicopter either has a bearing going bad, or one of the blades is out of balance."
Paramedic- "It's a smooth night. I feel nothing out of the ordinary. Relax."
"Well, I'll tell you more about this flight when we land, but you've got a problem with this machine."
I bite my tongue and quash the impulse to ask our patient "How many hours do YOU have in the BK117?"
We soon get his number nailed though...
"My sister is a nurse at (the hospital we are taking him to)."
My flight crew... "Oh really? Which department does she work in?"
"I'm not sure. I think she's a flight nurse."
(This is possible because the receiving hospital DOES have a flight program.)
But he later confides, "You'll be surprised when you meet my sister. She's the opposite of me... weighs 300 pounds!"
That must be some POWERFUL helicopter at that program!
We've all met guys like this. I know he was probably scared to death, talking just to vent his fears.
But why are some folks compelled to stretch the truth beyond belief, trying to make themselves look like experts in everything they discuss?
I meet WAY TOO MANY of 'em in my life-journey.