Good Mornin’! Good Mornin’!
They are the folks in the ambulance, in the helicopter and walking about among us all the time, Thank the Lord. Emergency Medical Service folks run toward danger, fly into desolate areas and destruction and drive towards folks who need help.
No matter how bad a situation is, they are trained to adapt and interpret with split second decisions where those seconds can mean living or dying.
I’m so glad they are out there but I really don’t want to meet them while they are working. In the grocery store or at Peasoup’s is fine, just not while on the job.
Now so far in my life, I’ve only needed EMS once when a fellah decided to change lanes and run a red light in his Ford F-150 truck while I was making a left-hand turn in a 1982 Hatchback Honda.
The right side of my head was introduced to the passenger door that was now in the middle of my two-door gas saving Japanese wonder car. I woke up, still behind the wheel but in somebody’s yard some 20-30 feet from where I previously had been. I remember some guy knocking on my driver door window that was still intact.
Somehow, I unlocked the door and the team of EMS folks got me out. Covered in glass and bleeding and the most dazed I’ve ever been – even more so than the multiple times I fell out of the top bunk and met the granite floor of the bedroom with my head or that time in fifth grade when my first and last pair of “OJ Simpson Dingo boots” wearing self, decided to jump over the bench that was under the awning between the main CDA building and the gym.
My Dingo caught the front edge of the bench and I hit the concrete headfirst to add to my growing list of concussions. But no one called for any EMS folks either time.
I did not resemble OJ running through the airport leaping over luggage. More like I had a pre-cursor starring role in the movie, White Men (Boys) Can’t Jump.
After my wreck, I ended up in the hospital with another concussion, somewhat on a larger scale than the others and seven staples in my head. I actually pulled glass out of my head from that gash after it healed for quite some time.
I’ve always fancied the thought of shaving my head to take a look at these scars but so far, the thoughts have led to no action.
EMS folks are true first responders.
They smile and go about their duties and keep us breathing and walking and living to the best of their ability despite our mistaken attempts to make left turns and clear short benches and other mishaps in life.
You’ll see them on the sidelines at sporting events, hopefully just watching and punching the work clock but not actually working.
They are smart folks who make critical lifesaving decision faster than I can decide on my Peasoup’s order.
If you see one on the street, tell ’em thank you from me and you. I’d greatly appreciate it.
Dang, that scar is itching bit. Wonder if there’s any more glass in my head?
