The next morning the oncoming crew was just getting signover when the phone rang. It was a flight from one city hospital to the teaching hospital. Not a big deal at all.... until dispatch needed to talk to the nurse... It was a IABP (balloon pump) patient, tubed, vented on 4 pressors. AKA: Sick As DOGSHIT. My partner was pissed it wasn't our flight... I was relieved. I don't like doing balloon pumps. That same shift had an organ flight that afternoon. Surgeon going from the coast, to the western part of the state to recover a heart. The pilot then had to return to the base and switch out with the night pilot.... he then went back west to pick up the team (and the heart) and flew back to the coast. We usually sent a crew member as well, but the team was 3 people this time and there wasn't room. The pilot made the drop-off and went for fuel..... thats when Baby died. (we call the aircraft Baby)
The pilot and mechanic worked all night trying to get Baby fixed.... then the weather went to shit (there is a hurricane coming). So they came home and left Baby sitting at the executive airport about 2 hours from the base. So my last shift involved a roadtrip with my partner and the pilot (squirrel and sharkbait). We were scud running at 500 ft just to get home before Hannah kicked our asses. I took some video of us flying over the beach with my partner's camera. (I will try to get it from him) We made it back, offloaded the medical equipment and then took Baby to the hangar (just on time).
So am home now.... waiting out the storm. Not as bad as I thought it would be but poor Maddux has been hiding in the corner since I got home.