Contract

Went to the contract negotiations that began at seven last night. I didn’t get out of there until 2:00 A.M. The final paperwork wasn’t finished until 3, but we came to a contract agreement. It was a very interesting experience, which I will write more about at another time. The bottom line -- I was impressed with everyone involved – my fellow employees, the team from the union, and management. There was give and take, compromise was made and I feel a decent contract was agreed upon – a contract which acknowledged the economic times we are in and the rising cost of heath care, and also acknowledged our worth as employees. Provided the union members vote to accept the contract, we will have a solid three-year agreement. There will be no job action and I will not have to sell my house or look for another line of work.

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Busy Monday. Did three psychs, three abd pains, a dialysis transfer, a refusal, and a pneumonia from a rehab hospital going to a general hospital. The psychs were all teenagers, and all required efforts to keep the patients from fleeing. The first one was at a high school where a teen had discussed killing herself, but had no plan. The problem was when we got there there were three cops, three school staffers, three mental health crisis workers and the two of us, which is about eight people too many, maybe nine too many. With that many people you can’t let the patient save face or establish a good connection, so without that they have to act out even if they really want to the hospital. She had to be the bad girl, and try to run several times -- they had the cockamanie idea of letting her walk off some steam in the corridor, while being followed by eleven people. We just couldn’t get a chance to manage the patient. Once we finally got her in the ambulance with just her teacher, she was quite cooperative.

The funniest call was for a stocky teenager who had been causing problems at school, and did not want to go with us. There was just a cop, a security guard and us in the room. The school staff got out of the way, which was nice. The boy hid under a table and wouldn’t come out, so we had to go down and pull him out. Even though he was stocky, he was no match for the four of us. We got him on the stretcher, but he kept unlocking the straps, and trying to get off. My partner tried tying him down, but I’m not crazy about that approach. I got out my drugs and the cop got out his pepper spray.

“My finger’s feeling a little itching on this can of pepper spray,” the cop said to him.

“And this is a big needle,” I said.

“Or," my partner said, "you could just lay your head back on the pillow."

“It’s your choice,” I said. “We’re going to let you decide. Choice One, Pepper Spray. Choice Two, The Needle. Choice Three, you go peacefully.”

He looked at the can of pepper spray the cop was holding out like a housewife holding a can of lemon pledge. He looked at the needle I studied like I was Louis Pasteur. He looked at my partner, who held his hands open indicating his choice.

The kid didn’t look happy. He pouted and crossed his arms. “All right,” he said. “I’ll go.”