Skip to main content

MedCon this is Medic 6, en route.

There weren't any other cars out. Not that early in the morning. There was only one other person on the bus. I shivered under my jacket and stared out the window. 5:09 AM. Things are so different when you're on the inside of the glass looking out. Damn buses always blocking the way and driving slowly. It's just people going places.

"Don't worry about breaking shit in here," Chris the paramedic said. "If you break it that means it's been broken 15 times before you." We got the tone and loaded up. My first call. It all went by so quickly. The first call blended into the next which blended into the next. It seemed like it wouldn't ever stop. Blurs of faces and papers. Names and questions. Tubes and patches. Beeps and sirens. Blood and wailing.

"People just need to fucking chill out," Chris told me. "Things would be a lot better that way." I smiled. It sounded familiar. We stopped for lunch 5 or 6 hours in. We grabbed our food and got back into the ambulance. I unwrapped my burger and took a bite. A red light flashed on the panel next to me and an alarm sounded. I realized that I hadn't put my headset on. "Fuck!" I said. It was all I could think to say. "Just wanted you to know that we're on call again." He said. "We'll eat later." And we did, a couple of hours later. It was cold, but it was food.

From my chair I could look out the back window of the ambulance and hear the conversations from the front. "Oh shit!" "What the fuck are you doing?" "Get the fuck out of the way, asshole!" They would say. Ambulances are such an inconvenience when you're outside of them. They hold up traffic and get in your way. The cars honked at us and tried to pull in front of us so they could keep going. Did any of them realize I was holding up his IV bag and taking his vitals?

It's so strange to get that perspective. It was fun, though. I'm so tired. There are a lot of terrible things out there. That's okay.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I'm a geologist, not an alcoholic.

I thought I had seen people drink before. Hell, I thought that I had drank before. But, clearly, I thought wrong on both of those counts. I cannot, for the life of me, think of a reason to justify all of the drinking that transpired down there last week. There was no rhyme or reason to it, it just was. Field work just makes a man thirsty. Taking this class was easily one of the best things I've ever done. We worked hard every day out in the field. Wake up at 7, leave the beach house by 8, hit the water by 9. My first three field days were in service on the R/V Acadiana , a 58 foot vessel that towed the CHIRP fish , the air gun, and the streamer to measure all the seismic data--looking at the subsurface of the seafloor we drove over. My second ship was the R/V Itasca using the multibeam , sidescan , and grab sampler --getting seafloor surface bathymetry. They were long, exhausting days and we returned to the docks around 6 or 7 every evening. And then, drinking. So much ...

Finger pointing good.

When I was on the boat doing science at Galveston, I saw a lot of dolphins. It was a significant experience for me because I have never actually seen a wild dolphin in real life before. It was sort of a dream come true. And in the middle of the shipping channel, no less. They really are amazing animals. It really kills me to realize I'll probably never see dolphins in Galveston again because of what happened to the Gulf. What is happening to the Gulf. It really is a tragedy. On a much lighter note, I started this Insanity workout program and it was so intense that I threw up before I finished the first workout. That is a good sign, I think. It is certainly an incentive to complete the entire thing. Anything that makes you feel that bad so quickly must be good for you.

Surgery and satisfaction.

My brother is wrapping up high school band camp. It's kind of funny, because suddenly we have something we can both relate to. Sort of. Not really in a loving, brotherly way. It's more like a begrudging transmission and reception of information. You take what you can get, I guess. After a few days of band camp, I discovered that he had been leaving his instrument in the band hall without a lock. "Nobody steals stuff out of the band hall." He told me. I related some appropriate anecdotes and let him borrow my own lock until he could get one for himself. "I'm going to need that back," I told him. "So you'll need to get your own lock." A couple of weeks later, I reminded him of the terms of our deal. The next day he returned my lock and revealed that he had left his saxophone unlocked. And apparently, for reasons beyond my comprehension, this is my fault.