We were dispatched onto the beach at 11 pm for a rollover accident with injuries. There was a fog over the beach and a heavy March chill. The accident itself was a mile or so down of the beach access and we made our bearing on the lights of the fire units near the surf line.
As we approached, we could see a battered, black Toyota pickup in the surf, being rocked by waves. The rear doors of the fire department’s rescue unit was open and we could see 2 patient’s on the bench seat, and a third on the deck on a back board. We parked, positioning our scene lights on the pickup some 100 feet away in the surf. The firemen were crashing around in the surf, working on pulling another patient onto a backboard. With each wave, the pickup would shift a little more and the tide was coming in. Each wave was lapping against the tires of our ambulance.
Six firefighters, with a backboard and patient slung between them, were fast walking up the ambulance as we opened up the rear doors of the unit. The patient was lifeless, arms limp and dangling off of the board, gray in the face and soaking wet. We hoisted him up onto the gurney, expecting to get to work on him, but when he was slid forward, head resting near the airway seat and under the fluorescent lights, it was easy to see.
“He’s got brain matter showing. Get him out of my ambulance,” my partner told the firemen. He was pulseless and apneic, a clear DBA now that we could properly assess him.
***
The other three—the patient’s brother and their girlfriends—we took to the hospital as mandatory trauma system entries (death of a same vehicle occupant). It turns out that all four of them were crammed into the front seats of the pickup and as the truck rolled, the patient had his head roll out the open passenger side window. The driver and the two girls were relatively uninjured in the accident and alcohol appeared to be a factor. Two ambulances took all three to the area trauma hospital.
The State Police arrived at the hospital to investigate the accident. We had to hang around the hospital to do the criminal blood draws, so we got to see this all go down. The trooper made his way from patient to patient, starting with the two women. The questions the trooper asked were all the same, “what happened?” “How much have you had to drink?” “Were you wearing your seatbelts?”
Finally, he makes his way to the driver’s room. The trooper had enough of the details before even starting his questions. He knew that the passenger had died--he’d seen the body on scene. And he knew the driver and passenger were family. The driver didn’t know. When he was asking questions about his brother on scene, we deflected. “There are lots of ambulances here, another crew is with him.” “We taking care of you right now, there are others taking care of your brother.” But we knew.
So when the trooper walked into the driver’s room and the patient saw him, the first question he asked the trooper was, “how’s my brother?”
Without a pause, the trooper answers. “Your brother’s fine, he’s at another hospital. I have some questions for you.”
***
Our partner and I, plus the nurses in the ED all had the same knee-jerk reaction. What the hell was this trooper doing? He was outright lying to this man. His brother was dead and the trooper knew it, but he was being told he was okay and at another hospital.
Unethical, right? The trooper thought he was going to get better answer out of the driver if he though that his brother was okay. But does that justify such a horrendous lie? I don’t think so, and neither did my partner or the nurses. And as my partner and I talked about it today, we were reminded again about how upset we were two years ago about this.
But it does beg the question, is it unethical to deflect those tough questions on the scene? Is it okay to tell a family member that there loved ones, who we know to be DBAs, that they are being looked after by other crewmembers?
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3 comments:
On scene? I usually tell them "I don't know", even if I do. Sometimes I'll tell them outright, but generally if there are multiple patients, I'll delay and defer to the hospital staff (chaplain, social worker, etc) to assist them when they are told.
The trooper was just plain wrong. Morally & ethically wrong.
We might not like it, but cops are allowed to lie to suspects during questioning in order to elicit information or a confession. He's doing his job, despite our compassion for the suspect (which is exactly what the living brother was at that point).
Brendan is correct. Cops can also lie about "evidence" obtained. They can claim to have your fingerprints or DNA, even when they don't, in order to get you to confess. Sneaky, huh?
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