Originally Posted by ggiese
All right, all right - calm down kiddies... Time for a story...
I was sent to a domestic disturbance at 3 in the afternoon. The husband, suffering from a HUGE case of Napoleon complex and alcohol/drug intoxication, decided to hit me on the side of the head because I told him he couldn't smack his wife around. VERY rapidly my boy hits the floor, and is in handcuffs. I carry him out to my squad car like a suitcase - by his belt and the handcuffs. After stuffing him in the back seat and closing the door - he apparently feels there is not enough ventilation back there so he tries to kick the window out of the door. After some "gentle persuasion" (a strangle therapy technique I'll discuss a little later), and a large nylon cable tie, I'm able to reduce his desire to kick the window out.
We get to the station, and again I carry my friend into the station like a suitcase, all the while he's complaining about the way in which he's being treated. I secure him to the bench in the booking area, and he tells me he's going to sue me if I don't get him treated for his injuries. Not much in the way of injuries, but - Okay, I'll bite - we call the paramedics.
When the paramedics get to the station, one of the nicest, kindest paramedics I knew from the fire department comes in the front door. I stop him before he goes back with my ravenous friend and lay out what's been happening with my prisoner - his Napleonic complex, his inability to curb his anger, his obvious alcohol/drug impairment... My buddy, the paramedic, stops me in mid sentence and tells me, "That's allright - I've been doing this for a long time. I know how to calm them down. It's no problem, they usually like paramedics and he won't be a problem for me. Please just stay out of the room while I'm in there so he doesn't get agitated..." I'm thinking - there's some truth to that. Usually they don't like being arrested, but they do like to appeal their case to the paramedics who really don't mean them any harm... Okay - you got it!!! So I let the paramedic into the room and close the steel door...
About a minute later I hear a whole crapload of commotion coming from the booking area. I open the door, and see the paramedic on top of the clown. The paramedic is applying a type of strangle therapy I've usually only seen officers use, but generally not paramedics. I think this to be odd, but figure it must be some type of medical treatment to soothe the boy. That's until I hear the paramedic say, "If you think the police focked you up, wait till I get done with you..." It took me a bit, but I was able to restrain and calm the paramedic down.
The paramedics decide rather than have to apply any more strangle therapy, it's best to package my boy up and take him to the hospital. So we stap him down to the stretcher and load him into the ambulance. I, of course, was asked to remain in the back of the ambulance for the trip to the hospital in case there was any need for additional personality adjustments.
We called ahead to the hospital to advise them we had a wild one coming. They greet us at the door with 3 security officers and "Gumby", the nurse. Now, I don't want to make it appear I'm making fun of the nurse - he was a VERY nice guy. He had his nice work smock on, replete with various buttons and pins, the most noticeable of which was his "Gumby" collection. I'm sure he's a really big hit with the kids... "Gumby", in his humble and his effeminate mannerisms, assures me everything will be just fine. Napoleon is in very good hands...
"Gumby" asks us to wheel him into a quiet room, the one with windows all around so that the doors could be closed and you would not hear anything going on inside. "Gumby" joins my buddy in the room to prep him for his exam, and I go to the nurses station to provide personal information about "Napoleon". I'm standing there for less than 2 minutes and I hear a terrible commotion coming out of the examination room Napoleon's in. "Gumby" is on top of Napoleon applying a similar form of the strangle therapy I saw the paramedic applying earlier. I'm thinking it's some new form of treating patients, and who am I to judge... That's until I hear "Gumby" telling Napoleon, "The paramedics may have brought you in here alive but, by God, I'll make sure you don't leave alive!!!" It took the strength of three security guards, one cop and two paramedics to convince "Gumby" his therapy may be a tad excessive. I made Napoleon aware he obviously was not very good at making friends...
I think Napoleon, to this day, thinks he's been mistreated... Of course, the penitentiary tends to leave most of it's graduates a bit jaded...