Riding in Ambulances
I recently had another health setback, which included a ride in an ambulance. If I recall correctly, it was my third time using one. It was far better than my previous one, which fortunately was decades ago.
My first ambulance ride was when I was discharged home after my near complete spinal fusion. It was painful and jarring but I was happy to be going home. Those painful months, which spun into years and decades, still linger in my mind. I still do not allow anyone to touch my back, if it can be helped.
My mom would tell of her first ambulance ride, from when she was in elementary school. It’s was the Springdale Street school back in St. John’s, Newfoundland. It was just a short waking distance from her house on Coronation Street.
It was winter time, which could have been anywhere from October to June in terms of the climate back there. She was walking and slipped on the ice. She knew right away it was serious - a bone was sticking out of her leg.
A helpful man walking by told her to wiggle her toes, as the act of wiggling them would disproved any broken bones. Thus we see that incompetent men taking down to women is far from a new invention of modern society. At least he didn’t record a video and post it online with some hateful comments thrown in.
Sorry, I’m losing the plot here. It’s late and I’m tired.
A helpful woman recognized the emergency and called an ambulance. In the rush to get my mom to the hospital, the medics did not secure the stretcher probably. St. John’s, like the rest of the province, is just a series of random rocky hills.
With each change of inclination and declination, the stretcher banged around. Aside from the pain this caused, my mom’s real concern was the back doors bursting open and sending her out the back like a rocket-powered bobsleigh.
Fortunately, she made it to the hospital. The children’s hospital, that I know so well, wasn’t established yet. Nor was the modern standards of an emergency department. Instead, you had basically a dumping ground of chaos in which folks of all ages and conditions were receiving help.
On that pitiful day, my poor mother was rolled up next door a screaming dock worker who was almost completely immolated by a vat of hot oil. I think that was the origin story of my mom’s grounded view that “things could always be worse”.
Let’s get back to the present day.
When this all happened, Laura and Olivia could not have been better. I am so grateful for them. In the past I have avoided ambulances but it’s been drilled into me by my doctors that using one makes the most sense. I’m glad I remembered that advice, in the chaos of the moment, as things went downhill very quickly.
I strive to be grateful for each day. New days are not promised to us. I am also grateful for my excellent doctors and specifically the one nurse in the ER, who was not even assigned to me, that recognized my terrible situation and escalated the help I needed.
I’ll be okay, physically. I just need to rest and recover, alongside some follow-up tests. Mentally, it may take longer but I have help for that, too.
❤️ love and good health to you all