It often blows me away how staggeringly rude medical professionals can be to one another in emergency situations. You’d think that in the hectic mess surrounding a dying multi-trauma patient on his way from an ambulance cot to a small town hospital bed, the people around him would have better things to do than belittle paramedics. But then I guess the medic ought to have better things to think about than the fact that he’s just been insulted.
The other day, Geordie, Matt and I were eating supper with Geordie’s girlfriend, who’s from Seattle, and hadn’t previously been much north of Vancouver. Various remarks were made about the high fat content of the meal. Here’s Matt’s explanation: “Yeah, welcome to the North. We try to put on the fat so that … [takes another bite of sausage]… if we ever get lost in the woods, and one of us dies … we can light him on fire to stay warm!”
Here’s the reaction most people have when I tell them I’ve been busy with the ambulance: “Oh, that’s good!… uh, bad?… um…”
As promised, here’s the first stolen aphorism from St. Josemaria Escriva. I doubt he’ll mind.
“You give me the impression you are carrying your heart in your hands, as if you were offering goods for sale. Who wants it? If it doesn’t appeal to anyone, you’ll decide to give it to God. Do you think that’s how the saints acted?”
Got me on that one. That’s what I do most of the time. Should be more like I offer it to God, and see if he keeps it or gives it to someone else.
I think that when we neglect our bodies, under the mistaken impression that they have no role in spiritual warfare, it’s like an F-1 driver deciding that he’s too good a driver to need a well maintained car. Recognizing that we should break any of these rules when charity demands, I’d still say that the following seem about as fundamental as oil changes:
1. Sufficient, but not excessive sleep.
2. Daily exercise, even for just a few minutes.
3. Healthy meals.
I don’t know how fundamental this one is, but I do think it helps:
4. Independence from caffeine. (NOT complete abstinence!)
God certainly exempts some of his saints from some of these requirements, sleep for example, but it’s pride to presume that he’ll do the same for us.
Had a pretty good couple of days last week, but didn’t get to post for a while. First thing Sunday morning, my partner and I headed out on an all day pair of flights. We landed just in time to scream off to an accident 45 minutes south of town, but the other two cars had beaten us there, so we turned around and called it a day at the 14 hour mark. First thing the next morning, we headed via helicopter to an accident 197 miles north on the highway, to rescue the trapped driver of a 36,000 lb. load of dynamite, but we were turned back at the mountains by a sheer wall of snow being whipped around by a 50 knot wind, and the ground ambulance from the Yukon had to take the call instead. To round it all out, I nearly worked enough hours yesterday to get suspended. Now this is what I signed up for.
Drunk patient: “So when do I get to fight one of you guys?”
Mounties [With calmly eager grins]: “Whenever you want.”
Ok, so the word “Ambulance” is printed backwards so you can read it in your rear-view mirror. Good idea. But then again, what was the last time you saw a red and white cube van tearing up behind you, lit up like a Christmas tree and leaning on the air horn, and thought “Golly, I wonder what that is? Oh! An ambulance! Good thing it was printed backwards!”
Then there was the one about the guy who was too drunk to catch his bus, but really needed to head north. In a nearby restaurant, a trucker was enjoying his coffee when he was dismayed to see his truck pulling out of the frontage and heading out on the highway. He sprang into action. Our travelling hero hadn’t yet made it out of town when he glanced in his borrowed rearview mirror and noticed a pickup, urgently encouraging him to pull over. He soon had a few more hard knocks to his credit. When the mounties arrived, they found him once again without means of locomotion, a few blocks from the bus depot, lying in the ditch, watched over with all the fury of a trucker from his coffee untimely ripped. Did he want to press charges? “No. I deserved it.”
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