Not for the faint of heart.

I'm on our CCT rig one night. I like working CCT because the calls are more like 911, our nurse is pretty cool and teaches us alot and we get to hang at station instead of sitting in the hot rig at some post. It's late, and we get woken up to go to a city pretty far from our station. Dispatch informs us that the CCT unit from that area is down, so we'll have to cover their calls.
The page comes in- Picking up from a rehab center and going to the nearest hospital. Code 3 (using lights and sirens)
Diagnosis: Nosebleed.
Wait, what?! A nosebleed? Hmm.. Ok, whatever. Light 'em up, head out. We arrive on scene and we're greeted by a security guard who opens the gate for us. He tells us there is a doctor waiting at the front door for us, and lo and behold, there is! He looks pretty young, maybe late 20's, and he's pretty freaked out.
"He's been bleeding since 10 p.m. We've tried everything, it just wont stop."
10 p.m.? It's 3 in the morning! This is beginning to sound interesting. The patient is trach'd. (Hole in the throat, you know, where the lady from the anti-smoking ads smokes from.)
We walk into the patients room, which looks like some gory scene from a horror flick. Blood is literally everywhere-covering the floors, the walls, the bed, and the patient. There are about 7 nurses in the room, all in full hazmat gear; gowns, gloves, masks, shoe covers...The works.
We gown up and walk in. The guy is fairly young, probably late 30s, early 40s. He's awake, alert, with sweat pouring off of his face. There appears to be a makeshift tampon stuffed in his nose, we learn later that it's actually a huge blood clot. He tries pulling it out, and we discourage him, telling him it's the only thing that's slowing the bleeding down. We frantically load him up and get him out to the rig. The nurse Jorge and I jump in the back, our driver gets in the front and quickly tries to figure out where the hospital is. (We were about an hour and a half from home, so we're pretty unfamiliar with the area)
The patient seems to be doing alright, his vitals are fairly stable but if he continues to bleed so much he's going to go downhill pretty quickly. I flip through his paperwork and find out he's at the rehab center as a recovering alcoholic. Makes sense, it's probably why the blood wont clot. I'm trying to make sure he doesn't pull the 'tampon' out, I tell him that I understand it's bugging him, but he has to leave it in. He nods in understanding and settles down, still sweating profusely. Jorge pokes his head through to the front to give our driver directions. I'm stuck watching this guy bleed, when he suddenly grabs my arm. Looking up, I realize he looks extremely worried. Because of the trach, he's unable to talk, so I try to figure out what he's freaking out about. I ask him, "Are you having trouble breathing?" thinking that maybe his trach had gotten blocked by fluids or something. He shakes his head no, and I continue the game of 20 questions. He looks really pale, so I ask "Are you feeling sick?"
YES! He nods excitedly, yes, that's it.
"Do you think you're going to throw up?" He nods again, so I grab an emesis basin (fancy word for 'puke bucket') and stick it in his lap. I try to tell him to relax, I know he must be so uncomfortable but we'll be at the hospital soon. I look at him, waiting for him to throw up, and he holds up his index finger, as if to say "Hold on..."
Blood starts dribbling out of his mouth, down his chin. Before I can even process what's going on and grab Jorge to help, IT comes out.
Now kids, this is for real. I'm not exaggerating, and yes this really CAN happen, and it did.
IT is a blood clot, the size of a grapefruit. It pours out of his mouth in one huge 'plop' and spills into the emesis basin. Wide-eyed, I grab Jorge's arm, shouting his name repeatedly. He finally turns around from navigating the driver in an angry "WHAT?!," looks at the patient and goes "OH sh*t!"
Another clot spills out of his mouth, smaller, then the guy seems to relax a little. I look at Jorge with my "What the f**k?!" face, and he explains: "Since his nose is plugged with the other clot, the blood is dripping back down into his stomach. Obviously he's been bleeding for awhile, and his stomach is full, so it's gotta come out some way."
The patient nods in agreement, then holds up his hands, signaling the number 6. It takes me a minute before I figure it out...
"This is the 6th one you've thrown up?!" The guy gives me a half smile and sheepish nod. "Alright man, well we're almost there so just hang tight." We get to the hospital, leap out and run up to the E.R. door. We don't know the combo to get in, so we knock furiously, trying to get the nurses' attention. One finally looks up, and lazily walks over and opens the door. She turns to walk away when Jorge grabs her and says, "This guy is coming from the rehab center. Nosebleed for 5 hours, it's pretty bad, he's lost alot of blood." The nurse looks confused and asks "Why didn't 911 bring him?" Jorge explains that this patient had to be with a nurse on a CCT unit, and the local 911 company didn't have one available. She replies "That's odd.. I thought they had one on for the night...." Jorge tries to get her to understand the severity of the situation. "Ok, well they don't, so we brought him. Can you get us a bed?" She looks around the empty E.R. and says "Yeah, I guess. They DO have a CCT on tonight, I'm sure of it." She's still standing, dumbfounded in front of us, completely unconcerned about the guy on the gurney covered in blood. She points to a bed on the other side of the room, and we rush past her. She continues to walk slowly around the E.R., getting a monitor, a blanket, some suction supplies, all the while still mumbling to herself about why the patient wasn't brought in by 911. I'm thinking "Who the hell cares? He's here now, and he needs medical care, so shut up and help him out!" 6 or 7 other nurses and a doc come over and start assessing the patient. We get him into the hospital bed and take the gurney out to be cleaned. I grab the bucket 'o blood, and shove it into the rude nurse's hands. "Here ya go!..." I smile, and walk away. I catch her eyes widen, finally realizing that the guy is in trouble. Jorge starts giving a report, and my driver and I head out to clean up the gurney. The doc calls out after us, "Wait! He's trying to say something!" I turn and catch the patient's eye, who is frantically signaling for me to walk back over to him. A nurse hands him a piece of paper and a pen, he writes something down and hands it back to her, gesturing for her to give it to me. I look down. It reads "Thank you so much."
"Of course, sir. We hope you feel better soon." He nods again, smiles, and goes back to listening to the nurses.
We clean up the gurney and monitor, head back to station and crash into bed.
I kept thinking.. You know when you're a little kid and your mom tells you, "Don't make that face, it'll stick that way forever..."
I'm gonna tell my kids, "Don't drink alcohol. Your nose will bleed forever."

Over and out-
the NURSE wrangler