Invasion of the Pussy Cat Snatchers

llxcowmThe shift had been particularly busy. I had been on three out of town transports with a whole bunch of in-town 911 calls and transfers in between. My partner on this day was particularly salty because he had worked at his other job the day before and had zero sleep.

At some point in the early evening, he let his frustration be known. “This is bullshit! I need some sleep!” I was tired too, as in case he didn’t know it I had been running my ass off all day too. “While I understand that you have been up longer than I have, you’re not the only one on this box who wants some downtime.” He muttered something under his breath, and frankly, I don’t care what it was. I was just glad that we were on our way back to quarters and that there were some other units in front of us in the rotation.

A couple of hours later, dispatch tones out our unit. “Medic 51, respond to 76 Burch Street for a 35-year-old female complaining of vaginal bleeding.” We go en route and I’m pulling up the CAD on my Toughbook. “Hey, wait a minute. I know whose house we’re going to. She’s batshit crazy. I can almost guarantee you that this is a psych call.” My partner, still half asleep and fighting to keep the rig on the road, seemed to disagree. “Bullshit. We’re about to deliver a baby.” I shot him a dirty look as we went on-scene.

The house was the one I pictured. I ramshackle crack house in the middle of the ghetto. As I was about to get out of the truck after plotting how I was going to move around the three vehicles of assorted functional ability, the screen door came open, a woman came running out, and into the side door of my truck she bolts. I was obviously taken aback and shot my partner a surprised look.

I joined my patient in the back, finding her already lying on the stretcher. Not one indication of pregnancy or vaginal bleeding of any significance was noted, so I start questioning her. “Hi, Stephanie. Remember me?” She nods. “Yes, you took me to the E and R last time. The doctor said I had a cold.”

“Exactly, a waste of my time” was my thought. I then said, “Yes, that was me. So, what’s going on today?”

Stephanie holds her stomach and looks up at me. “Aliens came to my room tonight and they… did things to me.” Trying to keep myself from laughing, I ask her what the aliens did to her to make her need my help. She gets a very serious look on her face and says, “They stole my pussy cat.”

Silence. I could not speak. If I had opened my mouth, I would have started laughing my ass off.

Finally, I regained my composure while my partner just shook his head and got up front. I asked, “Stephanie, are you talking about the kind of pussy cat that goes ‘meow’ or are you talking about the one between your legs?” She says, “My pussy, my stuff. Let me show you.” She starts to unbutton her pants and I tried to tell her that it’s not necessary.

Too late. The pants are off and she is spread-eagle on the cot. “See! It’s gone!”

I assured her that her anatomy was there but she insisted on going to the hospital. After covering her and belting her in, I gave my radio report. “General, we’re coming in with a 35-year-old female whose chief complaint is missing genitalia secondary to a close encounter of the third kind. No sign of injury noted all body parts are intact. Vital signs within normal limits, we will be there in five. Any questions?” The nurse on the other end takes a moment to key the radio back up. “Nothing further. We can’t wait for you to get here. General clear.”

I couldn’t help but notice the laughter in the background.

After she’s dropped off and we return to base, my partner said, “Thank God it wasn’t a baby. It would have been like that scene in ‘Men In Black!'” He did not like being reminded that childbirth is an EMT skill, not a paramedic-only skill.

And thankfully, we slept the rest of the night, though I did dream about aliens who claimed to be here for our pussy cats.

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