Author Beware: Provider Scope of Practice (EMS)

Here I am, happily reading along one of my favorite mainstream suspense authors, when a glaring medical mistake takes me right out of the story. Bummer! Now I'm wondering how long it would have taken this well known author to make one phone call to determine if this situation was plausible or not.

The scenario: The hero in our story is injured but doesn't want to be transported by EMS to the hospital. He's got other important things to do-- like catch a killer. Awesome. EMS has him sign a release form and he's on his way BUT the EMS team has given him an oral dose of a narcotic and two to take in the future when the pain comes back.

Did you hear that? That was steam billowing out of my ears.

This is a very common mistake authors make-- issues that deal with scope of practice. I've blogged about it several times. This post has links to several others that just deal with scope of practice.

In simple terms, scope of practice is what a health care provider can and cannot do. EVERY licensed health care provider (a nursing assistant, a nurse, an EMT, a paramedic, a physician, a physical therapist, a pharmacist) has a scope of practice that is governed by their licensing board-- whoever that might be. These governing boards determine the rules of practice. If the licensee does something outside of these rules they can be brought up on disciplinary action and even potentially lose their license. Scope of practice rules can vary from state to state.

In short-- it's bad to operate outside your scope of practice.

For instance, this document gives a pretty detailed overview of the medical treatments different EMS professionals can do.

The first problem with the author's scenario is that EMS professionals do not carry oral narcotics to give to patients. Only IV and those that can be administered nasally.

The second problem is that EMS professionals not only operate under scope of practice laws but also medical protocols which outline the things they can do in the field and under what conditions. In fact, here's a whole document that lists the EMS protocols for one hospital in Colorado that would give a nice overview for what likely happens in the US. There will be differences state to state but you could reasonably generalize from this.

Essentially, a paramedic giving a patient (who is refusing medical treatment) three doses of an oral narcotic (which he doesn't carry) is a serious violation of his scope of practice. Only a few medical roles can prescribe oral narcotics and dispensing oral narcotics is the role of a pharmacist.

Authors should take scope of practice as seriously as medical professionals do because though your book might be fiction-- the public will take it as fact.

Medical Critique: James Patterson's Kill Alex Cross 1/2

I am a James Patterson fan. I've restricted myself lately to the Alex Cross and Michael Bennett novels.

I just finished Kill Alex Cross. You can read my Goodreads review of the novel here.

This post is to discuss the medical aspects of the novel and what I find suspect. Come on, James. Hire me as your medical consultant-- I think-- no I know you can probably afford me.

In this post we'll deal with a male adult that is involved in a motor vehicle collision. The character was driving a van at a high rate of speed and took a header into a bus.

Initial treatment of the victim was good. Jaws of life. C-collar in place. Suspicion of drug use based on dilated pupils-- specifically PCP which is an accurate bodily response.

All good until this line: "The van driver was out on a gurney now, hooked up to a nasogastric tube and IV."

Anyone know what is wrong with this sentence?

Simply put, EMS is never going to put down a nasogastric tube.  Are paramedics trained to do the procedure? Yes. Have they ever in the field? Not that I've seen in twenty years of specialized nursing.

Now-- a flight team on a long transport-- maybe.

An nasogastric tube (or NG tube) runs from your nose to your mouth. It is used to drain/vent secretions and air from the stomach. If the stomach is retaining a lot of these things-- it can impact on the patient's ability to breath. A secondary use is as a feeding tube though there are many more comfortable styles (like a cor pak which is thin and flexible but doesn't drain well.)

All this sounds very good for the patient, right? Why not put one in in the field?

One-- patient priority is different in the field than in the hospital. It's basically secure the airway, breathing and circulation and get on your way . . . fast. Placing an NG would simply slow down scene time and they can be difficult to place.

Impacted Nurse

There are also contraindications to an NG tube placement. One is a basilar skull fracture. We all have bones that line the base of our skull. If these are broken-- there can be a direct conduit from your nose into your brain. Signs of basillar skull fracture are misshapen face, fluids (blood and serous drainage) leaking from the ears and nose. Mid face fractures.

That's what we don't want-- an NG tube in the brain. Yes, it can happen as evidenced by the photo that comes from this article which discusses just such a case.

Really, James, call me. 

Fall Call: Dianna Benson, EMT

I love these posts from author and EMS expert Dianna Benson where she weaves medical detail into a fictional piece. 

Welcome back, Dianna!

I shake my head to full awake from my cat-nap, and gear up for the trauma call less than a minute drive away. Once my partner and I roll on scene, I note the three cop cars arriving.

Additional information regarding the call flashes across our ambulance laptop screen.

Proceed with caution. Law enforcement dispatched.

“What’s the deal?” my partner yells out the driver window at a cop rushing toward the building.

“Another worker pushed the guy.”

“Ah,” I say with a nod. “Attempted homicide.”

“Or homicide, but if the guy’s not already dead, he’s gonna need us.” My partner jumps out of our ambulance.

We grab a C-collar (cervical collar) and a backboard, and toss it onto our stretcher already loaded with EMS equipment and supplies.

“Remember caution?” I remind my partner.

“Yeah, yeah. Guy was pushed not shot or stabbed. Let’s go.”

I really didn’t want to hang back either. Our patient’s life may be over if we wait.

Inside the building, we push through a crowd of gawkers. I notice three cops drawing their guns at a man choke-holding some young woman, her wide eyes glossed-over.

“Let her go,” the cop at the left yells out. “Now.”

I’m hoping the guy follows the demand or we’ll have more than one patient. As I rest my hand on my radio in case I need to request additional EMS crews, I scan the area for an injured man on the ground. I spot our patient on the other side lying supine and lifeless in a pool of blood on the cement, his attacker in the middle and blocking us from our patient. I glance up and see the catwalk and assume our patient was pushed off of the suspended walkway about twenty feet above.  

The guy fell twenty feet? I think to myself.  If he’s alive over there, he’s in critical condition.

“Clear out,” the cop to the right shouts. “Everyone. Out of this room. Now.”

The crowd scampers away. My partner and I hold our position behind the cops. The perpetrator doesn’t have a weapon, so there’s no danger to us.

After a few drawn-out minutes of the cops warning the perp to let the woman go, and our patient remaining lifeless and out of my reach on the ground in the near distance, I somehow dig up my most gentle tone and interject, “Sir, I don’t think you want to hurt her. Do you?”

The perp jerks his head in my direction. Ten seconds tick by with him just staring at me as if pleading me to help him out of this. “Ah…no. No, not really.”

“I didn’t think so. How about letting her go and we’ll talk?” Stop blocking me from my patient. If he’s not already dead, he needs me now. Needed me minutes ago.

 “Talk? Yeah, yeah,” he nods, “I just need to talk.” Chest panting, arms shaking, the perpetrator shoves the woman aside and drops on the ground. All three cops pounce on him and drag his arms behind his back.

I roll the front of the stretcher around the chaos on the ground; my partner pushes from the back. As I pass the perp, I ignore his insistent yells to talk with me since my focus is on my patient.

“Sir?” I say to the lifeless man as we approach him.

No answer. No movement of any kind.

I slide my fingers to his neck and find a thready carotid pulse. His chest is rising and falling in steady rhythm bi-laterally.

My partner holds his head in an in-line spinal stabilization position as I strap the C-collar around his neck. I slip a towel underneath his head for hemorrhage control and feel for trauma. I find an open skull wound, crepitus bone, and flesh.

Two firefighters appear at our side and assist me with log rolling the unconscious patient onto a spine board and strapping his body down. I secure the man’s c-collared head to the backboard with head blocks, straps and tape, allowing my partner to finally release the manual c-spine stabilization.  

“What do you need from me?” some guy asks. “I’m his supervisor.”

“How old is he?”

The manger answers that pertinent question as well as all my others, as I connect my patient to our cardiac monitor. Less than a minute later, I’ve assessed all vital signs and the heart rhythm, as my partner performs a rapid trauma examination. Our patient remains unconscious. I’m thinking internal bleeding is the main cause and he’s headed to hypovolemic shock, and if that’s the case, surgical interventions are vital. No more time to waste on scene.

“Femur fracture,” my partner says.

“Among other things,” I say. “Let’s go.”

All of us lift the backboarded man onto the stretcher, and roll it out to my ambulance.

As one of the firefighters drive, my partner and I attend to our trauma patient in the back with the assistance of another firefighter. Our patient remains unconscious. In order to protect his airway, I slide a lubricated oropharyngeal airway down his throat. With a curved laryngoscope, I lift the epiglottis and gain a visual of the glottic opening and white vocal cords. I drop the orotrachael tube between the cords, down the trachea. I connect a bag valve mask over the tube opening. To keep him oxygenated, I squeeze the football-size bulb every five seconds.  

“Take over bagging,” I say to the firefighter, and he grabs the bag valve mask from my hands.  

I spike an IV bag as my partner slides in an eighteen-gauge IV needle into our patients left arm. Since the patient is unconscious, there’s no point to administer pain meds.

I grab the radio mic. “Wake Med ED, this is EMS 16.”

“Go ahead EMS 16.”

“We are en route with a thirty-three year old male. Trauma patient. Twenty-foot plus fall onto concrete. Unconscious. Intubated. Open head trauma posterior. Fractured femur.  Normal sinus cardiac rhythm. BP 95/52 and falling. 182 heart rate. ETA 5 minutes.

Even if this man’s body survives, his brain will probably never be the same. I swallow the sadness clogging my throat, hoping he doesn’t have any children, and I re-focus on finishing my job on this trauma call.

*************************************************************************

 

Dianna T. Benson is a 2011 Genesis Winner, a 2011 Genesis double Semi-Finalist, a 2010 Daphne de Maurier Finalist, and a 2007 Golden Palm Finalist. In 2012, she signed a nine-book contract with Ellechor Publishing House. Her first book, The Hidden Son, released in print world-wide March 1, 2013. 

After majoring in communications and a ten-year career as a travel agent, Dianna left the travel industry to earn her EMS degree. An EMT and a Haz-Mat and FEMA Operative since 2005, she loves the adrenaline rush of responding to medical emergencies and helping people in need. Her suspense novels about adventurous characters thrown into tremendous circumstances provide readers with a similar kind of rush. Dianna lives in North Carolina with her husband and their three athletic children. Learn more about Dianna at www.diannatbenson.com.

Motor Vehicle Collision: Dianna Benson, EMT

I love this post by Dianna Benson, EMT written in first person about the treatment of a patient involved in a MVC. A lot of information presented in such an interesting way.

Dianna's debut novel, The Hidden Son, released in March.

Welcome back, Dianna!

EMS #16 and #22 MVC at Park Avenue and Green Street.

I toss the rest of my sandwich into a trashcan, and rush out of the fast food joint toward my ambulance, my partner behind me.

Less than five minutes later, we roll up on scene behind an arriving ladder fire truck. I slip mybright orange reflector EMS vest over my head and lurch toward two cars mangled together in a huge intersection, their hoods now one. The EMS #22 crew heads to the one patient in one car, so my partner and I bolt for the two patients in the other.

A civilian is leaning inside the driver’s door.

“Sir?” I say, approaching.

He looks at us, eyes wide, face pale. “Glad you’re here. I’m a doctor, an urologist, but I see patients in my office. I don’t deal with emergency—”

“It’s okay. We got it.”

Blowing out a sigh, he backs away.    

Unconscious, the driver’s face is buried in the deployed air bag, arms dangled around it in a laxhug.

“Sir?” I feel his pulse. It’s thready and rapid. Blueness surrounds his mouth and colors his lips, his chest not rising and falling. “Respiratory arrest,” I say to my partner who’s assessing the unconscious passenger, the lifeless patient’s head caught in the shattered door window.

Frowning, my partner shakes his head. “Cardiac arrest over here. Facial skin ripped away. Neck twisted 180 degrees and split open. Bled out.”

Code for: We can’t do a thing for her.

My partner rushes our equipment-loaded stretcher around the trunk to the driver door, as I wave a firefighter over to climb into the backseat. With both hands, the firefighter stabilizes the patient’s head straight against the headrest as I assess the minor facial wounds caused by flying glass. Another firefighter grabs the airbag, punctures it and rips it out of my way.  

I insert an oropharyngeal down my patient’s throat to protect his airway. I cover his mouth and nose with a BVM—bag valve mask—connected to oxygen tubing and a D-tank running at 15 liters per minute. As I squeeze the football-size bulb every five seconds to oxygenate his system,I assess his legs. Right femur appears fractured, left is covered with bleeding abrasions and lacerations, but no hemorrhage threat.

I strap a C-collar around his neck. Keeping his spine in-line, my partner and two firefighters place his body on a backboard on top of the stretcher, as I continue to bag him. I check his pulse again. Still present. I check for spontaneous breathing. Still nothing, although cyanosis no longer blankets his lips. I brace his entire right leg in a traction split to assist with hemorrhage control.

Inside the ambulance, my partner hooks our patient up to the cardiac monitor via a 12-lead, a firefighter bags the patient, and I perform a rapid trauma assessment, head to toe. After I find no other significant trauma or issues, I spike a bag. Less than a minute later we have an IV bolus in place, running high fluids.      

Spiked and dipped lines display on the monitor screen. “Normal sinus rhythm,” I speak out loud. “But hypotension and tachycardic.” Meaning low BP and high pulse rate. I’m thinking it’s possible this patient is headed to hypoperfusion (shock) due to internal blood loss.

   

“Ready?” another firefighter asks from the ambulance’s driver’s seat.

“Yep, take off.” I listen to our patient’s chest. Heart beating rapidly but strong. Lungs sounds absent on the left side. Diminished on the right.

I eye my partner. “I’m thinking left pneumothroax. Right may be heading in that direction.” I read the monitor screen. “Severe hypotensive now. How about administering Dopamine?”

“Already on it,” my partner says, filling the IV catheter with the med. “He needs chest decompression. Let’s—”

“I’m having trouble bagging,” the firefighter says. “You wanna intubate him?”

   

“Do you have full resistance or only some?” I ask.

“Full.”

Blood quirts out of the patient’s mouth.

I gain my partner’s eye contact. “Cricoid intubation?”

“Yep. Chest decompression can wait.”

I locate the cricothyroid membrane, and prep the area with betadine. My partner punctures the skin with a needle while aspirating for air with a syringe, then slides a cannula along needle and syringe. I secure the cannula with a neck strap, and osculate for breathing with my stethoscope.

I hear solid breath sounds. “We’re good,” I say then eye the firefighter. “Continue bagging.”

I snag the radio and switch the channel to the number one trauma hospital.

“Wake Med? This is EMS #16. We’re en route with an MVC patient. Unconscious. Absent left lung sounds. Diminished in right. Surgical trach in place. O2 saturation 90% with BVM at 15lpm. Bolus IV in place. Dopamine dose administered. BP 90/50, pulse 162.  ETA 15 minutes.”

“Chest decompression,” my partner says as he arranges equipment.

To prep the site, I rub iodine to the patient’s second intercostals in the mid-clavicular line. My partner inserts a 14-guage catheter into the skin over the third rib. He advances the catheter through the parietal pleura.

“Pop,” he says indicating he felt a pop, which is the goal. He advances the catheter to the chest wall, then removes the needle, leaving the catheter in place.

I secure the catheter to chest wall with dressings and tape.

Six days later, I see the patient exiting the hospital in a wheelchair, his right leg casted. Two hospital employees assist him into an awaiting car. I smile huge and thank God.

***********************************************************************

Dianna T. Benson is a 2011 Genesis Winner, a 2011 Genesis double Semi-Finalist, a 2010 Daphne de Maurier Finalist, and a 2007 Golden Palm Finalist. In 2012, she signed a nine-book contract with Ellechor Publishing House. Her first book, The Hidden Son, released in print world-wide March 1, 2013. 

After majoring in communications and a ten-year career as a travel agent, Dianna left the travel industry to earn her EMS degree. An EMT and a Haz-Mat and FEMA Operative since 2005, she loves the adrenaline rush of responding to medical emergencies and helping people in need. Her suspense novels about adventurous characters thrown into tremendous circumstances provide readers with a similar kind of rush. Dianna lives in North Carolina with her husband and their three athletic children. Learn more about Dianna at www.diannatbenson.com.

   

Author Question: Treatment of Car Accident Victims

Taylor asks the following regarding treatment of multiple victims of a car accident. 

SCENARIO: Serious MVC involving two cars and multiple victims. All passengers were wearing seatbelts, and airbags deployed, but the crash was serious enough that victims are still severely injured.

Jordyn: When writing about the car crash—I’d have it be pretty visual that the car is near ruin. Particularly if someone has died on scene. Having the car rollover several times would accomplish this.

Taylor: Three girls (friends) were in one car together, on the way to a Christian concert. Drunk driver character had an argument with his wife about his drinking, denying that he has a drinking problem, then got angry, left the house and went out for drinks (doing the very thing they just argued about, partly to spite her and partly "to calm down"). He causes a crash with the girls.

CAR ONE: This vehicle contains only the driver.

DRIVER: The driver is a male in his early thirties. He is slumped forward in his seat, initially unresponsive, but rouses when medics address him. There is a strong smell of alcohol on his breath, and although he is responsive, he is displaying obvious signs that he is intoxicated. Upon seeing the crash scene in front of him, he becomes upset, crying and saying things like, “I didn’t mean to”, “My wife is going to kill me”, and “What have I done?” He has a bleeding laceration on his forehead and minor scrapes and bruises on his face (from the impact of the crash and airbags), and bruising from his seatbelt. Aside from these, he is uninjured. Vital signs are elevated, but within normal limits.

Jordyn: This patient would be placed in C-spine precautions. An IV/fluids started. Usually, when EMS starts an IV—they’ll grab several tubes of blood that the hospital can send to the lab. They’ll dress the laceration on his forehead and not likely worry about the minor cuts and scrapes. Whenever there is seatbelt bruising, we always worry about what would be injured underneath.

In the ER: Since he’s intoxicated, he’s not a reliable informant about his pain. So, he’ll get automatic C-spine films to rule out neck/back fracture. They might even consider a CT of his chest and abdomen (they’ll take vital signs into consideration). Law enforcement will be involved and they’ll want blood alcohol levels and if your book is in a specific/real location—I would figure out what the procedure is in that town/city. After major stuff is ruled out—his cuts will be cleaned. The laceration to his forehead would be irrigated and stitched. Tetanus shot if none in the last five years. Once he’s medically cleared, I’m guessing he would be off to jail.

CAR TWO: This vehicle contains a driver and two passengers.

DRIVER: The driver is a female, age 18. She has no detectable pulse or respirations. Apparent DOA, killed on impact in the crash.

Jordyn: She may be declared dead at the scene. That would probably be the easiest way to manage this patient.

PASSENGER ONE: Female, age 17. Managed to free herself from the car after the crash, and is sitting in the grass a short distance away. She is displaying signs of shock. Respirations are slightly shallow and rapid, skin is pale and clammy, and pulse and heart rate are elevated but still within normal limits. She is mostly responsive, but groggy/drowsy and complaining of severe headache, nausea, and dizziness. Chest and neck are bruised from her seatbelt, and she has several other bruises and superficial bleeding cuts on her body. Her right arm is bruised, swollen, and oddly angled, and she is cradling it against her chest and complaining of pain.

Jordyn: Since she is shocky, she’ll get an IV/fluids and tubes drawn for labs at the ER. Considering the mechanism of injury (the fact that one of the occupants of the crash has died) she’ll be placed in C-spine precautions as well. All surviving patients (including the drunk) will also be give oxygen (as it is treatment for shock as well). Her arm will be splinted in a position of comfort. It’s hard to know if they would give her pain medication or not—her c/o of headache, nausea and dizziness could signify head injury and giving a narcotic could complicate that assessment. So, she may just have to tough it out until she’s in the ED.

ER: Vital signs. X-rays of neck, back and deformed arm. Possible CT of the head, chest and abdomen. Often times, deformed extremities need to be reduced either in the OR or can be done under conscious sedation while in the ED. Depends on how you want to go. This patient may be able to go home if her arm can be set in the ED and no other significant injuries are noted.

PASSENGER TWO: Female, age 17. Pinned in her seat inside the car, unable to free herself. Conscious and responsive, but clearly very frightened, and displaying signs of shock. She is complaining of some pain in her neck, numbness and lack of sensation below the waist, and inability to feel or move her legs. Chest and neck are bruised from her seatbelt, and she also has several bruises and cuts on her face, arms, and legs. There is a large, deep bleeding laceration on her right lower leg.

Jordyn: Same: C-spine/back board. IV, fluids, oxygen. Get blood for labs. Laceration of right lower leg will be bandaged to control bleeding. 

ED: Largest concern for this patient is her sign of C-spine injury. So, not only would she get C-spine films. She’ll likely get CT of her neck, spine, chest and abdomen. Probably would x-ray the leg with the laceration to look for foreign bodies before closing it up. Stuff like the leg laceration can wait until a medical game plan is decided upon after they figure out what her neck injury is.