So I've been reading this thread since about 2006, when I was fifteen. It's part of what got me into emergency medicine, oddly enough. That, and the whole saving lives thing. Anyway, after two years as a first responder at my college, I figured I'd share a few stories myself, starting with some of my own intelligent decisions.
As a 17 year old blacksmithing apprentice, forget that your teacher is left handed and you are not, try to copy what he does exactly, and pour molten metal onto your hand. It won't sting a bit. Neither will the water in the outside quench bucket, with the ice on top that your teacher has to stick a hot piece of metal through before you can put your hand in it to cool the burns at his insistence. You totally won't develop mild frostbite on top of everything else.
When you, as a freshman at your college, having injured yourself through sheer clumsiness so often that, upon discovering a trail of blood in the hall, your RA knocks on your door with near certainty that you a responsible for it, clearly midnight baked apples is a good idea. Especially when the only coring tool in your possession is a relatively dull pocket knife. Decide, because you are becoming so very familiar with the local ED anyway, that maybe you should go into emergency medicine.
If you work at a place that has several handmade benches, of different lengths, don't forget which one you're sitting, lengthways, on, when you try to lean back...onto your head. Later, when you throw up in the middle of teaching little kids the basics of archery, and can't stand light, call your friend, and ask if, instead of getting pizza tonight, he wouldn't mind terribly going to the ED. Get a large pizza on the way. Get seen really, really quickly. Start your first responder training that same week.
If you are vomiting, and have headache, and stiff neck, your only action should be to call your sibling, because a first responder in training is obviously equivalent to a long distance ED. They can totally help you when you pass out on the other end of the line, at your college halfway across the country. When they call your campus police, and have them find you, call EMS and get you to a hospital, and you finally wake up, by all means explain that you just figured since you were vomiting, you wouldn't drink any liquids for two days, and that would make it all better. It totally wouldn't turn gastroenteritis into near fatal dehydration.
When you crawl into the wrong dorm room, scaring the **** out of its occupants, leaving a trail of urine and vomit behind you, from the sidewalk outside, up the stairs, and around the corner, it is 100% vital to make it clear that the first responder's shirt is blue, to the exclusion of all other conversation, including things like the fact you are epileptic, and the seizure you promptly start having isn't as indicative of severe alcohol poisoning as it could be. It is not necessary for the shirt to actually be blue, nor is it required that this not be the first responder's first call ever.
When you have consumed large amounts of alcohol and salsa, and are nearing relieving yourself of this load, approach the RA office, at a point when the RA is on rounds and the first responder on duty is in their room (because they have the duty phone, and don't need to be in the office). Vomit, somehow, impressively, from several feet of floor, up the door, and onto several feet of ceiling. Disappear without being seen or heard.
After having been a first responder for a year, filling a coffee can with butane and lighting it, is still an excellent idea, especially when entirely sober and acting as an after school science teacher. You will get to quote the mythbusters ("am I missing an eyebrow?") and discover that after burning your bangs into non-existence, you will get many compliments on your new haircut. You will also learn that fireballs go up, because four years of blacksmithing apprenticeship did not teach you this.
Passing out in a bush is an excellent idea. Upon waking to find a fellow student, who also happens to be a first responder, passing your bush, rushing them is clearly the only solution. Upon finding that they, having developed problems in both knees (miraculously not through injury) and using a cane, are still able to out-maneuver your staggering self, try to run away, fall, and try again, repeating as necessary. When they calls campus police, run faster, and into a lamppost, then get up, rush the student again, find yourself held at bay by the business end of a cane, and fall over.
When campus police arrives, pretend you don't speak English, and start screaming the only Spanish phrase you know, as though it were a violent curse word, and not, in fact, "si, amigo". When you turn out to have four fake ID's, none of which are for people over the age of 21, deny that you are a student, despite the student ID in your wallet. When you start vomiting up pills, and blow a .31, explain that you, in addition to the bottle of vodka, have consumed Adderall, Ritalin, and Concerta, because you "needed them to study tonight". When EMS arrives to cart you off, start trying to chew on the straps, because you can obviously still escape without consequences, at this point.
When, in 2012, you are too intoxicated to sit unassisted, George W. Bush is the answer to everything. Including, but not limited to, "who is the president", "what is your name", "what is the date", and of course, "what did you have to drink tonight?"
When, later, you are in the ED, getting pumped full of fluids, wake up, remove all of your clothing, and try to make a run for the hall, stark naked. When your efforts are thwarted by the first responder who accompanied you to the hospital, and is staying up until past dawn to drive you back when you are released, be very unhappy, and hit the pregnant nurse, in your enthusiasm for the vital goal of flashing the rest of the ED. Be strapped to the bed. Pee everywhere, cursing all the while, then pass out mid-profanity.
