Medevacs are a pain in the butt. They're complicated in the US, let alone from a war zone on a military airfield. Our favorite saying, "It is what it is." Last night I started working on a medevac. With out the benefit of Influenza A this time. I started the ball rolling and went to bed, my cell phone right next to my ear. No calls. Checked my email and everyone was notified that had to be and the process was moving along smoothly. Hmm, I thought, this can't be good. I then received the air ambulance itinerary which stated "the patient will be move tomorrow at 1550" Um, your tomorrow or my tomorrow? These things are coordinated in Virginia. Quick call to VA.They meant my today. Cool beans. Armed with my information I headed off to make morning rounds. I arrived early and briefed the Admin. folks (we usually call them "weenies" but I won't here) and waited in the ward for the docs. They arrived and the presenting Navy Captain said that I was working hard to get him a flight. I interjected "1550 today, sir." He responded, "OK, he worked really hard to get a flight." Score another point for yours truly. Back to the clinic I went, waiting for disaster. Had to be, this is KAF after all. Kept getting updates with the same ETA. Got a call from their dispatch center confirming the flight was coming. I told them that they had to go to a certain ramp and not that "other one." Then I got a call from the coordinating nurse with the aircraft tail number, type of aircraft and the Captain's cell phone number. Listen people, I don't deal with success well, please, I'm begging you, I need some bad news. None forthcoming. Then I got a call from the R-3 asking me to come with the patient to the aircraft. OK, cool. It is a 15 million dollar jet:
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Me likey. I headed Down to the Role-3 and helped get the patient ready. He had been told that he was going to Germany. That's where all military casualties go. He is going to Dubai, to a civilian hospital, I told him. He had already told his family Germany. I promised that I would call them and straighten them out. I asked him if he had his passport. He told me that yes, he had it and it was in his black bag. The patient was loaded onto a world war two style litter that goes on wheels and taken out to the Navy ambulance, which was ancient. He was loaded onto the litter holder in the back. With me at the head carrying him into the ambulance. I'm a hands on coordinator. We then headed out to the airfield to wait. The aircraft arrived about 10 minutes late but as I looked out the window I saw this huge, beautiful airplane. As it taxied to a stop, the door opened and the ladder came down. "How are we going to get this guy in there?" I thought. Some other people had arrived to help us and everyone disappeared into the airplane to check it out. I was left with the patient in the back of the ambulance. I eventually got out and took his belongings to the aircraft. I had to climb 6 stairs to get inside and take a left at the minibar. The interior is amazing. Gorgeous. Luxurious. But not an air ambulance. There was no stretcher, no medical equipment, nothin'. There were two people in blue jeans who identified themselves as the Doctor and the nurse. Neither were interested in talking to me about the patient. The crowd cleared out I surveyed the situation. A settee had been converted to a bed with a couple of blankets on it. This was their idea of a stretcher. Which is fine if you can walk onto the airplane and kick back with a cocktail provided by the gorgeous flight attendant, but this guy was bed ridden and sick. And I needed an air ambulance. Not a flying palace. Adapt and overcome, that's what I do. I asked the Navy guys if I could keep their stretcher. No problem. I promised I would get it back. So 6 of us carried him up the stairs. The Captain informed us that all we have to do is angle his head into the cockpit. Sure, right. That didn't work. He told us that the handles on the litter retract. Sure enough, they did. I love this guy. He was English. Of course. Stay calm and carry on. It turned out that he and I ended carrying the guy onto the plane. I had to lift the litter up over the seats. I just kept thinking,"don't hurt the $15 million airplane." We got him squared away and I asked him again if he had his passport. He answered in the affirmative again (see where this is going?). I got a ride back to my vehicle and got a water, I was nackered. I am not used to doing physical labor, after all. So, I headed back to the clinic, slightly pissed.
Just to let you know, I had to stop writing this half way through because my phone rang. The guy had forgotten his passport. It was in our HR department. In his other black bag. The UAE government wants to end him back to KAF. Much negotiations later, they let him in. His passport will be on a plane this morning. He is in the hospital.
I knew things were going too well. Oh, and during all these phone calls, there were two late night emergencies in the clinic. Can I go home now?
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