We can't use digital cameras on the ambulance, which if you leave aside the patient's important right to privacy, is a shame because I could really post interesting pictures about this line of work.
I was thinking yesterday while trying to spray some nitro under a patient's tongue about doing a photo montage/art exhibit called "29 Ways to Lift Your Tongue so the Medic Still Cannot Spray Nitro Under It."
Some people can't follow directions. Some people apparently have limited use of their tongue muscles. Some also can contort their tongues in amazing ways that still nonetheless obstruct the medic from spraying the medicine under their tongues.
"Lift up your tongue. Don't Stick it Out. No, no, lift it up so I can spray -- No, I need to spray this under your tongue. No, LIFT, LIFT Up your tongue. Touch your tongue to the roof of your mouth. No, NO, not like that. Like this. No NO, Like this. Don't Stick it out. Lift it. I need to spray under, UNDER your tongue. Behind your bottom front teeth. LIFT. LIFT. NO. NOT LIKE THAT. NOT LIKE THAT."
The contortions.
The endless, bizarre tongue contortions.
Sometimes I end up grabbing their tongue with my gloved hand and lifting it up myself so I can spray the nitro under it.
In the old days when we had nitro tablets, you could stick a straw under their tongue and drop the tablet down that way. On this day, just as I get a space to squirt the nitro in, the patient's tongue comes down and the nitro sprays on top of their tongue, causing them to make all kinds of sour faces as they complain about the awful taste.
I just shake my head.
If we could use digital cameras, I'd have some pictures, some real beauties.
At the opening of my exhibit in New York, I'd be the bearded man in a beret leaning against the wall, watching as beautiful people, sipping wine, wandered about looking at my photographs. Genius, they'd whisper reverently. Pure genius.
