Babies and butcher knives

Last night was bound to be interesting. Not only because it was a Saturday and I was on the ambulance, but also because we were slated to work through daylight savings, a 25 hour shift. We weren't disapointed.

Two calls come to memory, the first, I almost laughed in the patient's face.
The young lady was at work, and just happens to be 7 months pregnant. She has had the unfortunate pleasure of morning sickness throughout her entire pregnancy. We were called because her "water broke." Once in the back of the rig, she admitted that she'd vomitted, and wasn't sure if it was her water breaking, or if she'd simply urinated all over herself.

I don't remember how the other call was dispatched, I've been sick and was working with Rescue Randy. Thanks to him for getting the call info I missed and listening to my giddy-sick babble. Regardless, we arrive onscene with PD and our guy is laying on the grass near the street with his head propped up on a brick planter. After a quick run-down from PD, we learn that our drunken patient claims his brother stabbed him in the head.
"Yeah, da mutha-f**** stabbed me with a butcher knife"
"A butcher knife?"
"Yeah. He had 4 or 5 knives he stabbed me with."
**note** He only had the 1 wound, although he had a good bleed.
We looked to the PD officers, who rolled their eyes. I'm sure they were happy that we would be taking this guy off their hands in a few short moments.

Each time the patient said something about what happened, the story was altered. By the time we arrived at the triage desk in the hospital, he said 4-5 knives and an axe were used.

I also swore that our dispatch center had sensors in my bed. Not 1, not 2, but 3 times in a row the bell rang moments after I settled into bed and stopped moving. It must have been payback for not running our first call until almost 8 hours into the shift.