I’m back . . . from the armpits of Morpheus it seems, with another batch of blog entries. So sorry for the silence . . . a mix of writers block and holidays.
Talking of holidays (and a tenuous link to the paramedic world), the wife and I went to Corsica. Lovely place, especially for climbing. We camped outside one of the huts and in the mountains and had a well deserved dinner within . . .
There were seven of us sat at our table all eating a multitude of spaghetti bolognese served up by a well seasoned mountain hut guru. Seven of us from four different areas around the globe. The three to my left were Russian, one a leading Nephrologist, another a Nuclear Physicist turned business associate and her younger daughter sat next to me, currently studying to be a Doctor in Medicine. On the other side of the table with my wife was a chap from Denmark who was the owner and Managing Director of a major Global Distributing Company. Next to him was highly commended and well known (in France) leading French Osteopath, with over thirty years experience. My wife entered into a brilliant conversation with him seeing as she is currently studying to be an Osteopath.
The ex-Nuclear Physicist turned to me, “What about you Binder, what do you do?”
“Oh, I’m a Paramedic” I tried to sound as modest as possible
There was silence, of which I was obliquely aware of everyone eying each other with subliminal expressions. I took this as them not understanding what a paramedic was.
“. . . you know, the chaps in Ambulances?” I tried to mime operating a steering wheel with a flashy light above my head. The Danish chap put me out of my misery.
“It’s ok, we know what it is”
Silence. Again. Only this time deafening. And this time, the Russian Nuclear Physicist put an end to my torture. She placed her hands loudly on the table, stood up and smiled at everyone.
“. . . well, the Bolognese was lovely yes?”
And that signaled the end of the meal, the end of the conversation – and the end of the evening.
Binder
NB stay tuned – proper entries coming!
I did learn in my travels what paramedics do in, say, the UK varies greatly to elsewhere in the world. I was once dismissed by a Norwegian nursing student for having an inferior job to her. My Norwegian companion launched into a five minute explanation (in rapid Norsk, so I could not follow well), about what it was I actually did, and why it wasn’t just driving ambulances. She was much more understanding after that.
Yep . . . I reckon it’s gonna be many many years too before things properly change