He sat on the edge of his bed, face expressionless... blank.... staring
He was alert...orientated....GCS of 15
He didn't want to go to hospital, he was fine. A gentleman, pleasant and articulate. His wife was just being dramatic.
But his eyes told a different story. They were glazed and void. They showed fear, something was wrong.
Seriously wrong.
It was a DIY disaster. He had been painting the walls of his hall when the ladder slipped. He had been standing about 5ft up the ladder, but this means that his head had been 11ft in the air when it came crashing down onto the solid floorboards. There was no obvious trauma, no bumps or cuts. Not even any tenderness around the area. But I didn't need the 'obvious' signs to tell me he was in trouble. His wife had already told us he had been unconscious for around 3 minutes.
That was enough for me.
He was collared and boarded, delicately removed from the house and into the back of the vehicle. It wasn't a time for playing around.
“Foot down please! Easy on the bends.”
The hospital were given an information call and all was good. I kept him talking, his wife too. She was upset.
“It's OK, He's chatting away fine. It's just always best to get any bang on the head checked by the Doctors, especially if he was knocked out.”
I hear the familiar rip of velcro, he's trying to take the collar off. I didn't need to look, I knew what was happening. I try to talk to him, and he's answering. But its making little sense. His GCS is dropping. He starts to become irritated, trying to sit up, swearing and barking orders. I have a look out the window, we're literally on the hospital grounds.
Thank you God
He calms down slightly, although still slightly combative. The nursing staff take over and a Doctor starts his examination.
A little later we returned to the hospital. I spot the Doctor who examined our man and manage to get a quick word. It's not good. His ICP is through the roof. If he survives its extremely doubtful he will make a full recovery.
Bollocks
