Pud
9th April, 2004, 5:52 PM
Since the site is a bit slow I thought I'd tell everyone what I got up to on first aid duty last night covering Celtic vs Villareal. Normally I have a fairly quiet time at the football and get to watch most of the game. Last night, however...
I was posted in the second biggest first aid room in the ground, 4 Bravo, which is at the northwest corner of the ground. We were called upstairs to our first casualty before kickoff - a man had collapsed in the toliets at one of the executive lounges. However, he turned out to be a GP, accompanied by his GP wife, so myself and my partner ended up feeling pretty useless :) We took him downstairs to the first aid room to be seen by one of the crowd doctors, who got him to lie down and rest as he didn't have any obvious symptoms. He eventually made it out of the first aid room to his seat for the second half of the game.
Just as we were finishing up dealing with the GP, a guy in his early 20s hobbled into the first aid room accompanied by a steward. He'd tried to cut his mile and a half journey to the ground in half by jumping off a fifteen foot wall, but unfortunately his ankle and heel had come off rather worse for wear, and he was almost unable to walk. Just as he was being put up on a bed and assessed I was called to another casualty so left with a carrying chair and my trusty first aid kit.
When I got to the location of the casualty, I found an 18 year old male - "David" - sitting on a set of stairs in floods of tears, surrounded by stewards. It was very hard to tell what had happened because he was in such a state, but from what the stewards knew he had been bottled on the way to the ground, and stopped from entering the ground by the police, who thought he was too drunk. As I couldn't glean much information from him, I put him into the carry chair and wheeled him round to the first aid room.
By the time I'd returned to the first aid room, our wall-jumping casualty had left. There isn't much you can do as a first aider for soft tissue injuries, ligament/tendon damage and so on except an ice pack to keep swelling down, so he was seen by the doc, who advised him to go for an X-ray. However, like a lot of people at football, he wasn't too keen on paying for a ticket and not using it, so he promised to go to hospital after the game and was discharged.
David was still very upset when we managed to get him to lie down and sporadically hyperventilating, making it very hard to get any information out of him. What we eventually managed to find out was that he'd had four cans of Tennents and a bottle of Buckfast on the way to the ground, and wasn't used to drinking all that much. He also said that he thought his drink had been spiked. The only time I've ever seen someone in that state was when their drink had been spiked too, so I'm 90% sure David's also had. There wasn't particularly much we could do for David as he didn't have any obvious injury from the bottling and the doctor couldn't get many coherent responses to questions from him. Eventually when we thought he was sober enough, we sent him on his way.
Our next casualty was a teenage boy who'd been beaten up in the toilets. He (and his clothes) were covered in blood from a facial and oral injury which the doc thought was serious enough to warrant an immediate hospital visit. However, the boy and his friend decided that they didn't want to and left, either to watch the rest of the game, go home, or try to exact revenge.
In the meantime, David was back in the first aid room. Almost as soon as he'd walked out of the door, the stewards had decided he wasn't fit to attend the game and had brought him back in. Again the treatment was just reassurance and time to sober up and by this time he'd calmed down considerably. Around 20 min later he again seemed fine to be allowed to go to his seat, so we said he could leave. After shaking both of our hands and giving my partner a hug (and leaving me a Celtic fanzine as a present) he left, never to be seen again.
The first aid room was finally cleared, so we went upstairs to our match position (only an hour late!) at one of the stadium gates. A minute later the ball was crossed, and Larsson scored the equaliser - only for me to turn around a minute after that and see someone else being taken into the first aid room.
Another teenage boy had been mugged in one of the coach parks outside the ground, and had a two inch cut above his left eye (and a missing wallet). While he was being patched up by the two first aiders who had brought him in, I was called to another casualty over the radio - a Celtic fan in his early 20s who'd injured his ankle celebrating Larsson's goal! I put him in a carry chair and wheeled him back to the first aid room, where the doctor had a look at him and then discharged him as the pain had subsided. He was advised to go to his GP if he had any further problems.
Our mugging victim, meanwhile, had been patched up and examined by the doctor, and was discharged - the game was nearly finished, and his supporters' bus was going to drop him off at his local hospital.
Again we'd finally managed to clear the first aid room, but as there were only a couple of minutes of the game to go we stayed put. Thankfully, there weren't any more casualties - the MI we were been sure was going to arrive at some point never came :) My partner, meanwhile, has vowed never to go on duty with me again - she now thinks I'm a jinx!
I was posted in the second biggest first aid room in the ground, 4 Bravo, which is at the northwest corner of the ground. We were called upstairs to our first casualty before kickoff - a man had collapsed in the toliets at one of the executive lounges. However, he turned out to be a GP, accompanied by his GP wife, so myself and my partner ended up feeling pretty useless :) We took him downstairs to the first aid room to be seen by one of the crowd doctors, who got him to lie down and rest as he didn't have any obvious symptoms. He eventually made it out of the first aid room to his seat for the second half of the game.
Just as we were finishing up dealing with the GP, a guy in his early 20s hobbled into the first aid room accompanied by a steward. He'd tried to cut his mile and a half journey to the ground in half by jumping off a fifteen foot wall, but unfortunately his ankle and heel had come off rather worse for wear, and he was almost unable to walk. Just as he was being put up on a bed and assessed I was called to another casualty so left with a carrying chair and my trusty first aid kit.
When I got to the location of the casualty, I found an 18 year old male - "David" - sitting on a set of stairs in floods of tears, surrounded by stewards. It was very hard to tell what had happened because he was in such a state, but from what the stewards knew he had been bottled on the way to the ground, and stopped from entering the ground by the police, who thought he was too drunk. As I couldn't glean much information from him, I put him into the carry chair and wheeled him round to the first aid room.
By the time I'd returned to the first aid room, our wall-jumping casualty had left. There isn't much you can do as a first aider for soft tissue injuries, ligament/tendon damage and so on except an ice pack to keep swelling down, so he was seen by the doc, who advised him to go for an X-ray. However, like a lot of people at football, he wasn't too keen on paying for a ticket and not using it, so he promised to go to hospital after the game and was discharged.
David was still very upset when we managed to get him to lie down and sporadically hyperventilating, making it very hard to get any information out of him. What we eventually managed to find out was that he'd had four cans of Tennents and a bottle of Buckfast on the way to the ground, and wasn't used to drinking all that much. He also said that he thought his drink had been spiked. The only time I've ever seen someone in that state was when their drink had been spiked too, so I'm 90% sure David's also had. There wasn't particularly much we could do for David as he didn't have any obvious injury from the bottling and the doctor couldn't get many coherent responses to questions from him. Eventually when we thought he was sober enough, we sent him on his way.
Our next casualty was a teenage boy who'd been beaten up in the toilets. He (and his clothes) were covered in blood from a facial and oral injury which the doc thought was serious enough to warrant an immediate hospital visit. However, the boy and his friend decided that they didn't want to and left, either to watch the rest of the game, go home, or try to exact revenge.
In the meantime, David was back in the first aid room. Almost as soon as he'd walked out of the door, the stewards had decided he wasn't fit to attend the game and had brought him back in. Again the treatment was just reassurance and time to sober up and by this time he'd calmed down considerably. Around 20 min later he again seemed fine to be allowed to go to his seat, so we said he could leave. After shaking both of our hands and giving my partner a hug (and leaving me a Celtic fanzine as a present) he left, never to be seen again.
The first aid room was finally cleared, so we went upstairs to our match position (only an hour late!) at one of the stadium gates. A minute later the ball was crossed, and Larsson scored the equaliser - only for me to turn around a minute after that and see someone else being taken into the first aid room.
Another teenage boy had been mugged in one of the coach parks outside the ground, and had a two inch cut above his left eye (and a missing wallet). While he was being patched up by the two first aiders who had brought him in, I was called to another casualty over the radio - a Celtic fan in his early 20s who'd injured his ankle celebrating Larsson's goal! I put him in a carry chair and wheeled him back to the first aid room, where the doctor had a look at him and then discharged him as the pain had subsided. He was advised to go to his GP if he had any further problems.
Our mugging victim, meanwhile, had been patched up and examined by the doctor, and was discharged - the game was nearly finished, and his supporters' bus was going to drop him off at his local hospital.
Again we'd finally managed to clear the first aid room, but as there were only a couple of minutes of the game to go we stayed put. Thankfully, there weren't any more casualties - the MI we were been sure was going to arrive at some point never came :) My partner, meanwhile, has vowed never to go on duty with me again - she now thinks I'm a jinx!