These were the classic words uttered by the young man as soon as I stepped forth from my FRU car. Lights still flashing. High visibility jacket on with the LAS logo and title in perfect view . . . of the whole world.
“Are you the Ambulance?”
It’s not often I’m caught off guard without something to say but momentarily I was. However, I rallied, with something not fantastic but at least non abusive and non insulting.
“Um . . . what gives it away?”
“Quick! Follow me! I’ll take you . . . she’s over here! She’s in a bad way!”
His voice was the campest I’ve ever heard. Somewhere between Holly Johnson and Alan Carr I’d say. And his over enthusiastic attempt to “lead” me all the way to the patient – who sat, moaning and groaning in a voluminous lake of her own vomit by the bus stop not 6′ from where I’d got out of the car – only added to the humorous surreality of the situation.
“Ok!” I said, “let’s go!” I took one step forward and arrived.
The poor girl. How so much vomit could come from one person was scientifically impressive. And yet she sat, propped up on one shaky arm ready to erupt a whole lot more at a moment’s notice.
So, keeping a safe distance, I batted through the preliminary questions to sort out my primary survey and confirm my A, B, C’s . . . i.e. name? Age? Just alcohol? No drugs? Good night? Was the Chinese nice . . . originally? And – is this your friend?
“Boyfriend” the young man interjected, elongating the last syllable with a soft touch.
“. . . . . . . . . wh – what now!?”
“He’s my – **BLLEEEUUUAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!** – boyfriend . . . . oh god!”
Just then the truck arrived. I love this moment as the look is always the same. Two pairs of glazed eyes glancing down through the window at the scene with mild mirth oozing from their faces. And, after a brief hand over we helped vomit-woman into the ambulance where the technician skillfully attached a Stomach Contents Accumulation Device (SCAD) to her head.
I stayed for some observations but simply would not be able to stay and keep a straight face listening to the boyfriend chant on about his heroic act in saving his girlfriend . . .
“. . . oh my god, I’ve been drinking too yeh, but I have to hold it together don’t I. I mean, god, look at her . . . oh my darling, oh god. I’ll look after you right . . . I love you”
“. . . . I love . . . **BLLEEEUUUAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!** . . . you too . . . oh god”
I bid the crew farewell and left them to it.
Its so nice when someone else take the garbage away. Do like the SCAD.
It’s a tough job . . . etc
Are you the ambulance ? Usually gets the response of, no I’m the paramedic would you rather speak to the ambulance ? Drunks covered in vomit, part of the job I really dislike I call it social refuse collecting !
I’ve heard it called that before. Like it. The name that is . . .