My brother works as a police officer. He got called to a residential house, as did a slew of paramedics. Upon arrival at this corner address, there were several firefighters and two paramedics scattered around the front lawn of the address, some with visibly broken bones, some unconscious, all bandaged in some way. They first took the statement of the captain, who was also injured, but stable enough to give a statement immediately.
Captain: “We showed up for a fall victim. He was exhibiting signs of a stroke, so our paramedic informed his adult son and daughter that they were transporting him to [Hospital #1]. The son freaked out, grabbed a knife, and started stabbing us. He kicked, too, and she punched too, but the knife was always going. We got ourselves out and called for you.”
They questioned more of the firefighters, and those who could give statements on-scene gave matching statements. Only then did they approach the door. Before they had finished their ascent on the small stairs, the daughter opened the door. In hindsight, my brother would recognize that he and his partner had already concluded the adult children were in the wrong and let that slip into how they addressed her. Which is very likely why her response to them asking for her side was:
Daughter: “Before I give my statement, would you go back to the firemen and ask them if they’re really sure they want what they told you to be their official statement to you? And maybe remind them that, in this state, lying in an official statement to the police is a felony?”
Something in her delivery seemed to snap my brother from his prejudice, and he indulged the request. Since the paramedics moved the critical ones first, they were able to verify every statement they had already acquired, and while they clarified that they were guessing on a few of the smaller details, the statements were unchanged where it mattered. Then they returned to the daughter, who had since prepared her phone.
Daughter: “So for a little clarification: our dad is suffering from liver cancer. Since we can’t guarantee we’ll be home all the time, we set up nanny cams so that we can watch him while we’re out. They also record audio and let us talk to him.”
She then plays the video of the encounter with the firefighters and paramedics. Everything matches the statements, save for one critical omission; more on that in a bit. Once they get to the turning point, however…
Paramedic: “We’re going to transport your father to [Hospital #1].”
Daughter: “Absolutely not!”
Son: “Any other hospital!”
Paramedic: “He has to go to the nearest hospital per stroke prot—”
Son: “He did not have a stroke.”
Paramedic: “He’s exhibiting all the signs—”
Son: “The only ‘sign’ I see is his speech. I explained to you he had a stroke a couple of months ago and hasn’t yet regained full control of his speech. And I said he regresses to full stroke-speak when his ammonia levels spike. His face is less droopy than it’s been since his stroke, and every visible sign of a stroke can also be attributed to his ammonia levels spiking. Unless there is a sign that cannot be attributed to his cancer causing an ammonia spike, there’s no reason to call this a stroke.”
Paramedic: “His speech is reason enough. Now, he’s going to—”
Daughter: “—Still not [Hospital #1]. How about [Hospital #2]? That’s where you’d be taking him if we lived across the street.”
Paramedic: “Protocol dictates—”
Daughter: “He can’t go to [Hospital #1]! We’re currently suing them for medical malpractice and wrongful death! If their legal team has any brains, they’re going to tell you to take him someplace else! And if they don’t, I don’t like Dad’s odds of leaving alive. Literally anywhere else!”
Paramedic: “He has to go to the nearest hospital, whi—”
Son: “Okay, fine.” *He turns to the firefighters assisting with the lift.* “Guys, this is no longer a transport. This is a lift assist. You can put Dad on the bed, in a chair, or in my truck, but he’s not getting in your ambulance.”
Paramedic: “You need to back off and get out of the way! You can’t—”
Daughter: “—Actually, he can. The law says we can’t tell you where to send the ambulance, but it also says you can’t force him into an ambulance or force him to accept treatment. As his advocates, we’re telling you no.”
Paramedic: “You can only advocate for him if he’s unable to assist in his own care.”
Son: “Oh, really? So Dad has control?”
Remember that omission I mentioned? Well, from the moment they walked in the bedroom:
Father: “No… Please stop… Go away… Get your hands off me… Stop… Please stop…”
He went on constantly. Despite this, the paramedics continued treatment.
Son: “So, everything you’ve been doing has been illegal? Or are you saying he’s stable enough to advocate for himself now and you’re about to do something illegal?”
Daughter: “If Dad’s rational, he says no. If he’s not, we said no. Either way, you all need to f****** stop.”
At the moment, one of the firefighters laid hands on the son to knock him out of the way. That is when the fight broke out. Though the knives were right beside them, neither the son nor the daughter reached for them, or even seemed to acknowledge them; they fought bare-handed, even as more firefighters stormed to subdue them. Then out came the other paramedic who was holding a syringe. As my brother put it:
Brother: “I’m no paramedic, but I cannot think of any treatment for a stroke or cancer patient that involves holding a needle like Vincent Vega. And his fingers and palm may have covered most of the needle, but that plunger looked drawn.”
Only as this paramedic came running into the fray did the son draw a knife on them and proceed to slash and stab. At the first sign of the knife, the captain and those who were only slightly injured (read: those who gave a statement) turned and ran.
Once everyone else had been subdued, the daughter carried them out the front door while the son took their dad out the back door; my brother later confirmed the only vehicle in the driveway was an SUV, and concluded the son drove his father to the hospital himself in his aforementioned pickup truck while everyone was waiting for the police and more paramedics.
After getting a copy of the audio and video from the daughter, my brother called in the details. After confirming everything the daughter said on the legalities was correct, more officers were sent, and they formally arrested everyone who had already given a statement.
They also secured the rest, ensuring no one could inform them what had happened and what could happen. Nearly all of them wisely told the truth without coaxing (as far as we know, anyway); the exceptions were the firefighter who shoved the son and the paramedics.
The truth-tellers escaped discipline, with the department willing to call their actions “good faith.” Only those who lied lost their jobs and pensions and got blacklisted in exchange for not being charged with a felony.
The paramedics and firefighter who started and escalated this whole thing took their own deals, which only reduced their time served; they were still fired, still lost their pension, still blacklisted, and still convicted felons who have gone to prison. And the siblings avoided any trouble and got their father a payout from the city.
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