Here are the regulars I have become familiar with in my first month on my new sector:
The infamous colostomy flinging wanderer known and dreaded throughout London. Currently residing in a hostel on my sector after making a miraculous recovery from 50% burns caused by setting fire to his own flat. Giving the crews hell.
Psychiatric patient, just out of prison. Exceedingly unpleasant man. Rings and tells call takers that he knows where they live and it will be them needing the ambulance, not him. Funnily enough, we know where he lives too, so he gets frequent visits from the police.
Lonely, elderly, bed bound female who always rings with “chest pain” or “difficulty breathing”. When the crew arrive, she either wants her bedclothes adjusting or to be given her nightly medication which her carer has “forgotten” to give her. Liaison with said carer has revealed that Enid may be rather fond of the effects of her sleeping pills and resorts to devious means to get an extra dose.
Psychiatric patient, depressed, 35 years old, going on 5. Rings and asks us to contact his mum for him. Cuts arms when we refuse. Before you start feeling too sorry for him, I should tell you that he once lost his rag and kicked a paramedic in the head, so we now refuse to attend without police.
Absolute pain in posterior. Rings from phone boxes in local shopping centres to say she has headaches and nosebleeds and to complain about society and the local gangs and the effect these have on her (possibly imaginary) children. Is never, ever there when the ambulance turns up – in fact it is believed she deliberately hides from the crew and then calls in again once they have given up and left.