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| LAFD Fire Station 52 |
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On Thursday, December 13, 2012 I was involved in a car accident at the intersection of Melrose Avenue and Oxford Street in Los Angeles. In the vehicle with me were my sister-in-law and my 19-month-old daughter. The vehicle I was driving had been completely stopped in traffic for nearly 30 seconds when a taxicab traveling 35 – 40 MPH rear-ended us. The 1999 Honda Civic that I had been driving was completely totaled by the force of the accident.
Realizing the severity of the impact, I was very worried that my daughter had been injured. I saw that my car had been pushed directly in front of Fire Station 52 and was relieved to think that help was so close. I carried my crying daughter in her car seat to the fire station and knocked on the door. I could see firefighters through the window but instead of opening the door, they disappeared. Eventually a firefighter came to the door and I told him that I had just been involved in an accident and that I wanted someone to check my baby. The very first words out of this firefighter’s mouth were (in a condescending tone), "Ma’am, you need to calm down." Put off by his rude demeanor, I asked that someone check my baby and determine if she needed medical attention. I was asked if she was in her car seat the whole time. When I said yes, his reply was that she was "probably fine."
To say that I am disappointed by the way I was treated (or not treated as the case may be) by the Los Angeles Fire Department would be an understatement. My direct requests that someone from the fire department check my daughter’s condition were met by flat out refusal! At no time did anyone from the fire department perform an examination of any kind on my child who remained secured in her car seat on the sidewalk in front of the fire station door. The "examination" performed by LAFD consisted of one firefighter looking down at the ground where my daughter was and saying, "She’s probably fine. She was in a car seat and those usually do a good job." That was it! LAFD personnel were so dismissive of my concerns that I even said to one firefighter, "Aren’t you an EMT or Paramedic?" To that, the firefighter got offended and said, "Of course we’re EMTs!" I replied, "Then please check my baby." Once again, my request was refused and I was told that because my daughter was in a car seat she was "probably fine." In all, I asked THREE separate LAFD EMTs to check my daughter and each time they replied without actually checking her, that she was "probably fine."
Meanwhile, my 25-year-old sister-in-law seemed to be getting plenty of attention. Several firefighters were talking to her, checking her blood pressure, and looking for injuries. Perhaps it was the fact that I was a married woman with a child who told the firefighters that my husband was on his way, but at no point did a firefighter, EMT, or Paramedic check my blood pressure or ask me any medical questions. Nobody even bothered to look at my car to see how bad the damage was (my sister-in-law had moved it out of traffic just out of view of the fire station entrance). One firefighter asked me if I was in pain. When I said yes, his reply was, "Do you want to go to the hospital?" I replied, "I don’t know." This was my honest answer as I was relying on the professional impressions of the LAFD medical personnel to tell me whether or not I was injured or required an ambulance ride to the hospital. By answering "I don’t know," to the question I was not being defiant; I was simply waiting to be told whether or not my injuries warranted an immediate ride to the hospital. After I answered, the question was repeated. When I again said, "I don’t know," the firefighter lost interest in me and walked away.
Still worried about my baby (who was crying loudly), I sat in the cold on the curb outside of the fire station waiting for my husband (who is an EMT and Registered Nurse) to arrive. I told my husband to check our daughter because the fire department refused to. He assessed our daughter for injuries and then asked me if I was in any pain. I told him, just as I had told the only firefighter who bothered to ask, that I had pain in my head, neck, and mid-back and that my head felt "cloudy." A firefighter was watching my husband while he checked us (my husband had brought us into the fire station so he could see us in the light). My husband then turned to the firefighter and told her that I had pain in my head, neck, and back. The firefighter responded by saying, "You were just in an accident. That pain is normal and it will be worse tomorrow. Go home and take some Motrin." At that point my husband decided that he would take our family to the Emergency Room himself.
In addition to refusing to provide appropriate care to both myself and my daughter, the personnel at Fire Station 52 were uncaring and acted as if their evening had been interrupted and that our presence was an inconvenience. The night was very cold and although the fire station doors were wide open for the better part of an hour while the police sorted out the scene and paramedics treated the taxi’s passenger, fire department personnel never once offered to let me or my daughter come inside. While I did not necessarily expect such an invitation, it seemed like the humane thing to do would have been to help a 19-month-old child escape the cold while we were waiting for the police to complete their accident report.
This accident was the very first time that I sought help from the fire department. I was scared, worried, and also a bit dazed from my injuries. My initial reaction when I saw that we were in front of a fire station was one of relief. I had grown up believing that firefighters, EMTs, and Paramedics were there to help and would treat me and my family with competence and compassion should the need ever arise. My experience that night has completely changed my opinion of the Los Angeles Fire Department.
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