#ambulance workers

[feckcops]

Israeli forces are deliberately shooting at Palestinian paramedics

“It’s not just the frequency of the attacks that has changed, Jumaa said, but the nature of the injuries too. ‘Israeli forces used to shoot Palestinians in their legs, but now intentionally shoot them in the neck or chest, which involves a more serious threat to their lives,’ she explained. During Israel’s raids on Jenin last month – the largest attack in two decades – she operated on three people with neck wounds. Recently, she said, she has also seen a significant number of children among the injured. ‘It is particularly distressing for me, as a mother.’

“Sometimes Jumaa is herself a target; as the attacks on Palestinians intensify, so too do attacks on ambulance workers trying to assist the injured. The Palestine Red Crescent Society (PRCS), has recently recorded incidents of Israeli soldiers physically assaulting medics and targeting their ambulances with live ammunition, rubber bullets and tear-gas canisters. In total, there were 193 incidents targeting staff and vehicles in 2023 – a 310% increase compared with the same period last year. 

“During the attacks on Jenin last month, Israeli soldiers killed eight Palestinians and injured 50 more, the Palestinian Ministry of Health reports. Israeli forces also directly targeted two ambulances belonging to the PRCS with live ammunition. Jumaa, who was in one of these ambulances, said that Israeli forces shot at the engine of the vehicle in order to disable it.

“Several health workers who spoke to Novara Media reported recent incidents of occupation forces blocking ambulances from reaching the injured and from getting them to hospital. 48-year-old paramedic Waleed Abu Alhaija recalled coming within a metre of a casualty in Jenin last month, only for an Israeli sniper to open fire, warning him and his colleagues against evacuating them. ‘The four of us paramedics suffered injuries from shrapnel from the sniper’s fire,’ he said. ‘The injured person continued to bleed until he died.’”

[nando161mando]

Ambulances called to Amazon’s UK warehouses 1,400 times in five years

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/article/2024/aug/17/ambulances-called-to-amazons-uk-warehouses-1400-times-in-five-years

[agentfascinateur]

US weapons used by Israel in the killing of 7 medics in Lebanon

The Guardian examined the remnants of a 500lb Israeli MPR bomb and a US-manufactured Joint Direct Attack Munition (JDAM) recovered by first responders from the scene of the attack. Pictures of the shrapnel sent by the Guardian were further verified by Human Rights Watch and an independent arms expert. JDAMs are guidance kits produced by US aerospace company Boeing which attach to 500-2,000lb “dumb bombs” and convert them into GPS-guided precision missiles. They have been key to Israel’s war effort in Gaza and Lebanon, and have been one of the most requested munitions from the US. Shrapnel recovered from the al-Habariyeh attack included a fragment with writing identifying it as a “bomb MPR 500”, as well as the parts of a JDAM which clip the bomb to the guidance system and remnants of its motor.

Adding to what 4 US State Department agencies said about Israel not complying to terms of arms transfers. Is anyone truly surprised?

[ainawgsd]

Nurse: *checks blood pressure. Checks BP again* I'm going to go get someone to double check me *leaves room*

Me: well that can't be good

[arsonistbunny]

Things happening on qsmp and fans reminds me of that time dream had another brilliant idea of asking for speculative work for his icon and I said that it wasn't normal or okay and I had this discussion with an American person and at some point, they went "well when we want to enter a school we have to pay for the test to enter. are you saying this isn't normal" like a gotcha but like? yeah?? that's not ok?

In France, having to pay to pass a test to enter a school isn't illegal but your teachers will warn you: this is a sign of a scam. the scam being that the school actually sucks and is just trying to get as much money as fast as possible before eventually closing down due to being bad.

And I'm saying that because qsmp fans on twitter are doing their best to defend doing nothing to fix the situation. (The situation being free work by the way. And unsigned contracts. And abusive clauses.) And invoking things such as "oh the union that wants to take this to court are illegal" and things that appear to be normal in USA. And like, ok, listen I don't know a lot about how your country works but please question it!

You may not realize it but your worker's rights suck so much that you think a union fighting for worker's rights to be respected has to be illegal or nefarious??

[cairamelcoffee]

Dr. Ghada Abu Eida, a doctor at the Indonesian Hospital in Gaza, was working in the ER department when rescue crews carried in her daughter on a stretcher. Dr. Ghada was saving people injured in the Israeli air strikes on Jabalia Camp, unaware that her daughter was also targeted.

via

[einstetic]

i opened my thesis document this morning

"last edit made on June 3rd, 2023"

i feel like word is intentionally trying to make me avoid this whole thing bc that message does not make me motivated lmao

[limelocked]

Ai baby you know you’re in the right when your bombs, targeted or otherwise, hit a press team and kill a Reuters journalist (sarcasm)

[andromedasummer]

ngl it seems like everything has been going wrong for my dads side of the family these first two months of the year

[dorkylittleweirdo]

Getting turned down from a job like um excuse you who else are you gonna find who's gonna work in hazardous conditions at disgusting hours for minimum wage and zero benefits when they could work at McDonald's at reasonable hours for more money and less damage to their mental health

[randompiggy]

Cool so I get that a bunch of you don’t think Arabs are people or whatever, but if we could not say that a guy who is facilitating a genocide “has actually done a lot of good” and that a woman who has pledged publicly, multiple times, to continue the genocide would be a “legitimately good president” that would be great.

I’m sick to bastard death of people pretending that people don’t want to vote for Harris because they’re inflexible far-left anarchists who aren’t willing to compromise on political positions slightly to the right of theirs. Over 100’000 people have been killed in the last year. More bombs have been dropped on Gaza in the last year than the Blitz, the bombing of Dresden, and Hiroshima and Nagasaki combined. Yesterday CNN published a piece about IDF soldiers running over hundreds of people with bulldozers, and the point of the piece was how traumatising it was for the soldiers, how they can’t eat meat anymore after mangling people into meat. There are death marches happening in Jabalia in the north of Gaza right now. People are being lined up, men and boys separated from the group, and brought to mass graves where they are killed or buried alive. Since more than 70% of civilian infrastructure in Gaza has been destroyed, Israel is just bombing people in tents now where they burn alive. The bombs killing people are American bombs, the money funding it is American money, the political cover that allows it to continue is American.

I don’t know what it will take for people in the West to acknowledge the scale of what is happening. I don’t know if I have to share a steady stream of images of people’s mangled bodies, not able to rest even in death, I don’t know if I have to tell the stories of the Palestinians I know, of the children I know who escaped Gaza this year and are rehabilitating limb amputations, if I have to do thought experiments with you saying “pretend Beirut is New York and they are bombing outside JFK and Columbia Presbyterian”. If I have to explain that the number of children killed is not incidental but intentional. It is beyond exhausting to watch people be so flippant about the hell on earth that they are funding and electing. Vote for whoever the fuck you want, but acknowledge the reality of what is going on, acknowledge the reality of your choices, acknowledge that you live in a country that is making you choose between complicity in genocide and complicity in genocide

I mean honestly I don’t hate Harris. or Biden, who has actually done a lot of good in the last four years especially considering the mess he had to clean up. but whatever gets the “my imaginary moral high ground is more important than peoples’ lives” fucks to vote.

[sonsband]

lmao I love when I get stupid dizzy out of nowhere. you'd think I'd be used to it by now but I am not!

[which-hospital]

rip sandra mute you would’ve loved the 1989 ambulance strike

[sportychurch]

Nightwatch: Patient Has Seizure in Back of Ambulance | A&E

A patient has a seizure in the back of an ambulance in this clip from Season 4, Episode 1. Watch the latest clips from Nightwatch … source

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Thousands Seek Eight Positions On Ambulances," Toronto Globe. August 15, 1933. Page 9. --- Members of Council Are Besieged With Demands for Help -Regulation Bars Use of Influence ---- ARRANGE TRANSFER TO HEALTH OFFICE --- With thousands of applications for the eight positions made personally to them, the Board of Control will meet this morning to make arrangements for the transfer of the police ambulances from the Police Department to the Medical Health Department.

On account of prevailing conditions, members of the Board of Control are not pleased with the prospect con- fronting them. There is a civic regulation that no member of Council should use any influence to secure employment for a citizen, but prevailing conditions make it practically impossible for members of the board to refuse interviews to the unemployed.

"I do not know how many men have come to me to secure one of these positions. There must have been hundreds. I suppose it is the same with other members of the board and of Council," said Controller Robbins yesterday, expressing the hope that the responsibility might be on the shoulders of some departmental official.

The task of providing jobs for the unemployed has become so difficult to members of Council during the past three years that all appear to be convinced that a better method would be advertising through newspapers, without disclosing the identity of the city.

[dksfml]

Love 119 [Part One]

part of my paramedic!jungwon series. [part 2]

pairing: paramedic!jungwon x doctor!reader genre: workplace tension, constant bickering, fluff (trust me) word count: 2.7k summary: jungwon and you made it a habit to constantly be at each other's throats, especially in the emergency room. while he barked orders, you fired back just as fiercely. but once the doors closed, the tension shifted into a warm intimacy that only you two knew. author's note: self-indulgent fic because i've seen no one writing this trope

The late afternoon sun was just beginning to dip behind the skyline when the call came in—an emergency at a construction site on the outskirts of the city.

Jungwon barely had time to glance at his watch before he was in motion, his team falling in line behind him as the sirens wailed and the ambulance tore through the city streets.

Arriving at the site, chaos greeted them. Workers were clustered around a man lying motionless on the ground, his hard hat cracked and discarded nearby, dust and debris littering the air. Jungwon’s jaw tightened, taking in the scene in a flash. This wasn’t good.

“Let’s move,” he barked, his tone sharp but calm, his team already spreading out as they grabbed the necessary equipment from the ambulance.

He strode forward with an authoritative air, his well-built frame and broad shoulders drawing more than a few eyes from the construction workers, some of whom were openly staring at him, their faces filled with a mix of concern and awe.

“Step back, please,” Jungwon said firmly but politely, the workers quickly making way as he knelt down beside the injured man.

His dark hair, just a bit tousled from the rush, caught the light, and the sharp angles of his jawline seemed even more pronounced against the backdrop of the gritty site. His team watched him with admiration; Jungwon always exuded this calm, confident charm that somehow made even the most panicked scenes feel manageable.

Jungwon quickly assessed the man’s condition. The patient was unconscious, his breathing shallow. One of his teammates handed over the stethoscope, and Jungwon listened intently to the faint sounds of the man’s breathing. His brow furrowed.

“Possible head trauma. We’ve got low oxygen saturation,” he muttered under his breath, signaling for the oxygen mask as his hands moved swiftly yet delicately over the man’s body, checking for fractures and injuries.

His every move was precise, commanding attention—not just because of his skill but the way he carried himself. Even in the face of an emergency, he looked collected, like he was born to handle the pressure.

"Jungwon," his teammate called from the side, holding the patient's chart. "No significant external bleeding. We’ve got a weak pulse though, around 130, BP's borderline. We need to get him out of here fast."

Jungwon’s eyes narrowed as he nodded, quickly making a decision. “Let’s secure his airway first and immobilize his spine. We can’t risk any movement.” He made the call as he smoothly slid the oxygen mask onto the patient’s face, adjusting it with a gentleness that contrasted the urgency of the situation. His fingers brushed over the man’s wrist, checking his pulse again. A slight frown creased his forehead.

With practiced ease, his team set up a backboard to stabilize the patient, while Jungwon prepared to radio the hospital. His deep voice echoed through the dust-laden air, crisp and calm. “We’re looking at a possible internal bleed or brain injury—trauma to the head, decreased GCS. Get Y/N on standby. She’ll want to know.”

He tapped his earpiece, dialing straight into the hospital, his tone switching effortlessly into that of a strict professional.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice filled with authority as he spoke into the receiver, “we’ve got a situation here. Male, late twenties, unconscious after a fall from height—GCS is 4. We’ve administered oxygen and immobilized his spine, but he’s unresponsive. Internal injuries are likely.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, before your voice came through, crisp and all business. “Vitals?”

Jungwon rattled off the numbers, his tone growing sharper as he outlined the gravity of the situation. “BP’s dropping fast, pulse is weak, pupils uneven—one’s blown. It’s not looking good.”

“Get him here as fast as you can,” you replied, your voice steady. “We’ll be ready when you arrive. I need him in trauma two for imaging, and you better give me a detailed report when you get here.”

Jungwon rolled his eyes subtly, though no one else could hear his exasperation. “Of course, Doctor. Just make sure the room’s prepped.” His sarcasm was impossible to miss, but before you could retort, he was already motioning for his team to get the stretcher ready.

“Let’s get moving,” he said, standing up in one fluid motion, his wide shoulders casting a shadow over the patient as he signaled for the transfer. His team lifted the man onto the gurney, Jungwon guiding them every step of the way. Despite the intensity of the moment, there was something about the way he commanded the situation—his deep voice, his piercing gaze, the way he moved like a force of nature—that made even a frantic scene seem a little calmer.

Jungwon was the kind of guy people listened to, the kind of guy people looked up to. Even with the weight of the situation hanging over him, he held his head high, taking charge like it was second nature. His team moved quickly, securing the patient in the ambulance as Jungwon gave one last glance to the scene before climbing in.

“Let’s go,” he said firmly, and with the wail of sirens, they sped off toward the hospital.

Jungwon stormed through the emergency room doors with a sense of purpose, his jaw clenched as he guided the gurney toward the trauma bay. “28-year-old male, head trauma, GCS of 4, possible internal bleeding. Move it!” His voice boomed with authority, eyes scanning the room as the ER team sprang into action.

The chaos of the emergency room was nothing new, but today it seemed more charged than usual. The tension was thick as the nurses hurried to get the trauma room prepped, doctors barking orders as they readied themselves. And at the center of it all was you—focused, sharp-eyed, already gloved up and waiting.

The moment Jungwon and his team wheeled the patient in, your eyes met his, a silent exchange of understanding mixed with the tension that always crackled between them in moments like this. Not that anyone would’ve noticed—your constant bickering was practically a feature of every shift.

You stepped forward, your voice cutting through the noise of the room. “Trauma two is open. Let’s get him in fast!”

The team followed your lead, transferring the patient from the gurney to the hospital bed with swift efficiency. Jungwon stayed close, hands still gripping the rails of the stretcher as if he was unwilling to relinquish control.

“You took too long with the vitals report,” you said, throwing him a sharp glance. “We could’ve been in there five minutes ago.”

Jungwon’s eyes narrowed. “We did take the vitals. Maybe if you paid attention, you’d know that.”

“Excuse me?” you shot back, your gaze never leaving the patient as you worked to stabilize him. “I don’t need a paramedic trying to tell me how to do my job. We had a plan, and your delay didn’t help.”

Jungwon glared, his voice low and clipped. “Maybe if your plan didn’t waste time on unnecessary scans, we wouldn’t have needed a second round of intubation last time.”

Your hands froze for a split second before you caught yourself. You threw him a withering look. “This again? You think you can waltz in here and play doctor, Jungwon?”

“I’m not playing doctor. I’m trying to make sure you don’t screw it up.” His tone was biting, but professional, and the tension in the room rose instantly.

One of the nurses stepped back, shaking her head. “Here they go again.”

You didn’t back down, leaning closer as you adjusted the IV line. “How about you leave the doctoring to me, and I’ll leave the paramedic work to you? We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Jungwon took a breath, his expression unreadable for a moment, his frustration barely contained. “Fine. Just don’t mess it up.”

“Same to you,” you retorted, not missing a beat.

Before Jungwon could respond, one of the nurses interrupted. “Dr. Y/N, patient’s BP is dropping.”

Instantly, you refocused, the banter dropped as quickly as it had escalated. “Let’s get the trauma panel done. We need to stabilize him before moving for imaging. Prep the fluids.”

Jungwon watched you work, his arms still crossed, but he didn’t say another word. Despite the constant arguing, there was no denying that you are incredible at your job. Even in the most high-pressure situations, you were in complete control.

You worked together in tense silence, the only sounds in the room now the soft beeps of the monitors and the quiet shuffling of the medical team around them. Jungwon’s team lingered just outside, waiting for their next call, though they couldn’t help but glance back inside the room occasionally, accustomed to the combative exchanges between Jungwon and you.

As the patient’s vitals finally stabilized, you took a step back, letting out a quiet breath. “We’re clear to take him to imaging now. Good work, everyone,” you called to the team, your voice steady once more.

Jungwon uncrossed his arms, walking past you toward the door. “You’re welcome,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You narrowed your eyes at his back but said nothing. You didn’t need to. Your argument had run its course for now.

Thirty minutes later, with the patient stable and prepped for surgery, you stepped out of the trauma room, pulling off your gloves. Jungwon was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, that same tight-lipped look on his face.

“Everything go okay, or did I miss something else?” he asked, his voice loaded with sarcasm.

You glared at him. “Yeah, we managed just fine without your commentary, thanks.”

“Good,” Jungwon muttered, pushing himself off the wall and adjusting his jacket. “Maybe next time you won’t waste so much time arguing.”

“Maybe next time you’ll do your job and get out of my way,” you shot back, your voice sharp.

“You love being in control, don’t you?” Jungwon’s eyes glinted, his voice dropping low as he stepped closer. “Can’t handle someone else calling the shots, huh?”

You crossed your arms, your gaze unyielding. “I don’t need to handle anything, least of all you.”

“Trust me, I’m not asking for much,” he replied with a smirk, his voice oozing with challenge.

You scoffed, brushing past him. “Try asking for less.”

Jungwon shook his head with an exasperated sigh as he watched you walk away, but his lips twitched ever so slightly. The others on their teams didn’t even blink. This was just how the both of you were. They were used to it by now—the biting remarks, the challenges, the constant back-and-forth. Every time Jungwon’s ambulance showed up, it was only a matter of time before you and him were at each other’s throats again.

Hours later, the hospital had quieted down. The rush of the afternoon was over, and most of the staff had gone home. You and Jungwon had managed to avoid each other for the rest of your shifts, though your earlier argument still hung in the air like static.

You finally peeled off your gloves after your last appointment and scrubbed your hands clean, your mind replaying the events of the day. You were tired, drained even, but there was something about that last spat with Jungwon that wouldn’t stop gnawing at you. Maybe it was the way he always had a smug retort ready or how he never backed down from your challenges.

Shaking your head, you let out a sigh. “Annoying paramedic,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing your coat and heading out of the ER.

Your apartment wasn’t far from the hospital, a quiet space tucked away from the noise of the city. By the time you have arrived, your exhaustion had fully settled in, your body craving rest.

You pushed open the door and was greeted by the sound of faint rustling from the kitchen.

“Rough day?” a familiar voice asked, soft and warm.

You smiled, the tension from earlier melting away. There, standing in the kitchen in the same paramedic uniform that had driven you crazy just hours ago, was Jungwon. His hair was a little disheveled now, his expression soft and boyish, the strict leader of the paramedic team completely gone.

“You have no idea,” you murmured, walking over to him, your eyes catching on his broad shoulders, still defined under the crisp lines of his uniform. Jungwon turned around, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat when you see his easy smile, so different from the sharp tone he used at work.

Without another word, Jungwon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. The scent of antiseptic still clung to his uniform, mixed with the faintest hint of his cologne. You closed your eyes and let yourself melt against him, the weight of the day slipping away. You buried your face into his shoulder, feeling the strong muscles beneath the fabric, and sighed softly.

“You’re lucky I put up with you,” he teased, reaching for your hand and pulling your close. “Even after you yelled at me for no reason.”

“I didn’t yell for no reason,” you protested, but your voice had lost all its sharpness, softened by the warmth of being home. You leaned against his chest, letting out a deep breath. “Okay, maybe I did. But only because you deserved it.”

Jungwon chuckled, his arms wrapping around you more tightly. “Sure, I deserved it. You really hate me that much, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no heat behind it as you melted into his embrace. “The worst,” you muttered, though your fingers played with the collar of his uniform.

Jungwon smirked, resting his chin on top of your head. “Good thing we’ve got the whole night to make up for it, then.”

“You’re still in your uniform,” you mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. But inside, your mind was in chaos. His broad shoulders. The way he held you. The authority he exuded at work seemed to linger here, too, but only just enough to make your heart race.

Jungwon chuckled, his hand moving up to cup the back of your head. “I thought you liked me in uniform.”

You groaned, your cheeks flushing. “Stop it. I’m tired.”

“Liar,” he teased, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. His own softened as he took in your face, the familiar tenderness filling his gaze. “You love it.”

And he wasn’t wrong. As strict and commanding as you could be at work, here with him, you couldn’t help but feel weak in his arms. You were whipped for him in every sense of the word, even if you would never admit it out loud.

Jungwon kissed the top of your head, his earlier bravado fading into a gentle affection. “Come on. Let’s get you out of these scrubs and cuddle.”

You let out a soft laugh, the kind that only he ever got to hear. “You’re the one who’s going to change first. That uniform’s distracting.”

“I knew it,” he grinned, but without missing a beat, he started peeling off his jacket, revealing the tight black undershirt beneath that highlighted his lean muscles. You had to look away before you lost yourself completely.

As you settled onto the couch, your limbs tangled together in the quiet of their apartment, the world outside felt a million miles away. In here, there were no patients to save, no colleagues to impress, no reputations to uphold. It was just the both of you.

Jungwon nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his earlier strictness replaced by a cuteness that only you got to see. “You’re such a pain at work, you know that?”

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re not so easy yourself.”

And just like that, the bickering, the tension, all of it faded away. Because here, in your shared apartment, away from the chaos of the ER and the expectations of their coworkers, you were just you and Jungwon—no titles, no arguments. Just two people who loved each other, even if you never let anyone else know.