Sunshine + Weekend + Sports Event = The Trifecta. In the world of Professional People Movers this means 1 thing: BUSY. Shifts like these, making sure you are stocked up with lot's of vomit repellent & "People Burrito Wrap" supplies are as important as a tetanus shot after stepping on a rusty nail. Very rarely do we get any other type's of calls from these events.
Aaaaaah, sports & alcohol- like Siamese twins...just joined at the fist. We hope Garlic Fries & Bud light will only be SMELLED, briefly as we roll by the fan packed stadium...NOT blanketed across the floor of our Sick Bus.
As we head out for the night, off coming Professional People movers can be heard grumbling about tonight's game, "Stupid traffic."- from a crew that is WAY past their time to go home.
*Hanging up phone* "My little sister's headed to the game with my nephew. Lucky- not working. Oh, & *The Bird Of Prey* says we're down a few crews tonight. Quite a few out needing their Vitamin R (Rainier) apparently." *Shifting Unhappy Glance* Skat Man dumps off our "D-Day" sized pile of People Burrito Wraps & Feed Bag Collars. "*SIGH* Yea, tonight's gonna suck." he mutters as he hops up front- bringing our prehistoric Sick Bus to life with a turn of the key.
Traffic- SUCKS...Period! First Pitch in T- 8 minutes but half the ticket holders appear to still be circling the stadium as we weave our way up construction littered streets of Latte Mecca. "Aaaaaaaaand, Gooood MORNING Sick Bus! *Squelch* Got one for ya. Code response to the Golden Arches-Waterfront." *Rolling Eyes* "Ok...*Side conversations to Skat Man* Seriously, him again?!....*To the Voice in the Sky* Headed there."
*Siren Winding Down* My tech. As we hop out we see one of our BIGGEST abusers of the system. The Bare Butt Hospital Hopper: A scruffy & poorly kept, vulger & crude worded, ill-mannered & half naked- FREQUENT FLYER. He IS the "Bill Murry" in the Ground Hogs Day that is our shift (But Bill Murry isn't a jerk!) Same location. Same complaint. Same Engine Company- different shift. Same outcome. Get us on-scene for yet ANOTHER one of his non-medically necessitating Sick Bus rides to *Insert Local ER Here*...& he hops between ALL of the ones in the area. (I'd actually prefer a ticket holding puker right now.)
We leave "The Bare Butt Hospital Hopper" in his favorite spot to sleep at tonight's *Insert Local ER Here* "purgetory" (aka- Waiting room). Here, abusers wait so the actually ill/injured, self-sufficiant folks like "Mr. I Drove Myself here...holding my severed hand...in a bag of ice" can be treated first. Skat Man lights up his 1st- "1/2 Cancer Stick" of the shift before getting our next. (2 minutes or 6 drags. Whichever comes first) He hops in, grabs the Mic- "Sick Bus is locked & loaded". Call #2? En route.
Call #3= Uneventful. All except for the "Drive it like you stole it"- Karaoke shoulder dance party we have on our way to it. Faces of people on the sidewalk confirm- it IS as awesome as we think ;-) This call, close enough to hit the front door of *Insert Local ER here*- North End- with a rock!! Grab. Load. Go.
"Sick Bus ready for our next." It's my turn behind the wheel again...& on the Mic. Skat Man gets comfy in the passenger seat, AKA- Our very own "Bermuda Triangle". Once you're in it, you're lost...responding only to the back log of personal fan mail on your phone ;-) Skat Man's ear now immediately immune to the sounds of *The Voice In The Sky*..."Oh-kay. Turn ya back down to the sea of game go-er's."
Top of the 7th...
"Go ahead & start down code, to the Stadium. Special access like usual. Escort's waiting out front!!" Even getting CLOSE to the small city within Latte Mecca where folks gathers to watch fastballs & stolen bases, is ridiculous. Waves of people even more oblivious to our approach than usual (if that is even possible) stop like herds of deer caught in headlights well, strobes for this matter. "PO-leece" with spirit fingers on steroids direct & part the crowds like they were the Red Sea- flooding behind us immediately when we hit the other side. "Show us on-scene." *Blink Blink...locking eyes with our escort*...He's the size of Frodo Baggins!! LOL!
*Phone dropping* His gloved hand pulls out from the Bermuda Triangle. Skat Man is BACK!! We meet around back, all eyes on us. Rando's stop to watch, entranced by the "pretty lights" RIGHT in our path! Typical. We wheel our gurney through the crowd. Squeeze between tight doorways while feverishly attempting not to lose our "guide to middle earth". ;-P
Once the patient scavenger hunt stops, we see our patient through the gates...surrounded by "Caution-kids at play" yellow colored T-shirts. Giant smiley faces on each one. (This is the "happiest, terrible call" ever!)
We get the skinny:
"This little one is 8. They have a LARGE hematoma on the forehead...hit by a ball. Family is here- one will ride with. There is a language barrier, but some English. They're not from the area so run them on up to *Insert Local ER Here*, for mechanism."
Skat Man lifts our smallest patient of the shift, on to the cot. They're calm, alert & holding an ice pack gingerly to the swollen mass on their head while we buckle them in. Not a single tear or face stricken with pain from a child that makes your soul die on the inside. Maybe it was because of the "bright yellow shirt of happy" she was wearing?? It MUST have super powers!! (Who could be upset with a smiley face the size of a bear cub grinning up from their belly?!)
I flip around in the street to head up to the ER. Lights on & with quick chirps of the siren so no drunken fan attempts "Real Life Frogger", in front of us. A humming of conversation seeps up front from Skat Man getting more details. Glancing back, I see the "Holy CR*P!! *Teeth clinched, mouth open- face stretching* kind of look take over Skat Man's face as he shifts his glance back to the winner of most calm patient award who's calmly enjoying their very first Sick Bus ride.
As we wheel in, "Soooooo...*under breath* Apparently, they were struck by a LINE DRIVE that went foul, directly in the forehead. No LOC (loss of consciousness), got knocked back but DIDN'T EVEN CRY!" (All pertinent info needed BEFORE transporting, if our first on-scene white shirts would have been so kind to mention). I look at the kid sitting next to me, staring back from under the giant ice pack covering her eyes- in wonderment. "What ?! Wow, seriously? Took THAT like a CHAMP!!"- I whisper back.
We get them checked in & ready for eval, each *Insert Local ER Here* staff member's head cranes sideway's immediately upon hearing the cause behind tonight's visit of our sheepishly smiling, elementary school child comfortably positioned on our gurney. Amazed & humbled with their ONLY complaint of the ice making her head chilly..she very well be our next Super Hero! ;-)
We get a room, roll her in & turn her care over to staff in charge tonight. A teddy bear materializes under her arm like a bedtime cuddle buddy. Skat man ascends the trauma podium for this call's pre-hospital presentation. His voices fades as I wheel out to reset for our soon to follow-next call. I stop by the cart of cleaner...
*Upward Left Gaze. Momentary Zoning Out* In my head, this little girl introducing herself to our "My pain's a 15/10!!" type adult transports...imagining it sounding somthing like this:
"Hi! I'm 8 & I took a MLB Line-drive to the face!! *Happy Meal sized- fear inducing, forward lunge* What NOW?! *Popping Disney Princess shirt collar* Pfff! No big deal! I EAT whiny adults like YOU who say their toe pain needs an ambulance to *Insert Local ER Here*, for my after-recess snack!!"...
Changes my of thought now to- "Taking one for the team". Tough cookie, this one. TOUGH Cookie!!
The next afternoon my nephew calls- "I went to the game last night with Auntie. She said you were working & couldn't go.". "Yep, I was. Did you have fun & get your smiley shirt?"..."Aaa-HAH! There was an ambulance when we were leaving. It drove up with it's siren on...was THAT you??"...*Laughing* "Actually this time, (family & friends of all Latte Mecca Movers tend to acquire a habit of looking at each Sick Bus that drives by) Yes. Yes it was!"..."Really?! COOOOL!!" ;-)
Aaaaaah, sports & alcohol- like Siamese twins...just joined at the fist. We hope Garlic Fries & Bud light will only be SMELLED, briefly as we roll by the fan packed stadium...NOT blanketed across the floor of our Sick Bus.
As we head out for the night, off coming Professional People movers can be heard grumbling about tonight's game, "Stupid traffic."- from a crew that is WAY past their time to go home.
*Hanging up phone* "My little sister's headed to the game with my nephew. Lucky- not working. Oh, & *The Bird Of Prey* says we're down a few crews tonight. Quite a few out needing their Vitamin R (Rainier) apparently." *Shifting Unhappy Glance* Skat Man dumps off our "D-Day" sized pile of People Burrito Wraps & Feed Bag Collars. "*SIGH* Yea, tonight's gonna suck." he mutters as he hops up front- bringing our prehistoric Sick Bus to life with a turn of the key.
Traffic- SUCKS...Period! First Pitch in T- 8 minutes but half the ticket holders appear to still be circling the stadium as we weave our way up construction littered streets of Latte Mecca. "Aaaaaaaaand, Gooood MORNING Sick Bus! *Squelch* Got one for ya. Code response to the Golden Arches-Waterfront." *Rolling Eyes* "Ok...*Side conversations to Skat Man* Seriously, him again?!....*To the Voice in the Sky* Headed there."
*Siren Winding Down* My tech. As we hop out we see one of our BIGGEST abusers of the system. The Bare Butt Hospital Hopper: A scruffy & poorly kept, vulger & crude worded, ill-mannered & half naked- FREQUENT FLYER. He IS the "Bill Murry" in the Ground Hogs Day that is our shift (But Bill Murry isn't a jerk!) Same location. Same complaint. Same Engine Company- different shift. Same outcome. Get us on-scene for yet ANOTHER one of his non-medically necessitating Sick Bus rides to *Insert Local ER Here*...& he hops between ALL of the ones in the area. (I'd actually prefer a ticket holding puker right now.)
We leave "The Bare Butt Hospital Hopper" in his favorite spot to sleep at tonight's *Insert Local ER Here* "purgetory" (aka- Waiting room). Here, abusers wait so the actually ill/injured, self-sufficiant folks like "Mr. I Drove Myself here...holding my severed hand...in a bag of ice" can be treated first. Skat Man lights up his 1st- "1/2 Cancer Stick" of the shift before getting our next. (2 minutes or 6 drags. Whichever comes first) He hops in, grabs the Mic- "Sick Bus is locked & loaded". Call #2? En route.
Call #3= Uneventful. All except for the "Drive it like you stole it"- Karaoke shoulder dance party we have on our way to it. Faces of people on the sidewalk confirm- it IS as awesome as we think ;-) This call, close enough to hit the front door of *Insert Local ER here*- North End- with a rock!! Grab. Load. Go.
"Sick Bus ready for our next." It's my turn behind the wheel again...& on the Mic. Skat Man gets comfy in the passenger seat, AKA- Our very own "Bermuda Triangle". Once you're in it, you're lost...responding only to the back log of personal fan mail on your phone ;-) Skat Man's ear now immediately immune to the sounds of *The Voice In The Sky*..."Oh-kay. Turn ya back down to the sea of game go-er's."
Top of the 7th...
"Go ahead & start down code, to the Stadium. Special access like usual. Escort's waiting out front!!" Even getting CLOSE to the small city within Latte Mecca where folks gathers to watch fastballs & stolen bases, is ridiculous. Waves of people even more oblivious to our approach than usual (if that is even possible) stop like herds of deer caught in headlights well, strobes for this matter. "PO-leece" with spirit fingers on steroids direct & part the crowds like they were the Red Sea- flooding behind us immediately when we hit the other side. "Show us on-scene." *Blink Blink...locking eyes with our escort*...He's the size of Frodo Baggins!! LOL!
*Phone dropping* His gloved hand pulls out from the Bermuda Triangle. Skat Man is BACK!! We meet around back, all eyes on us. Rando's stop to watch, entranced by the "pretty lights" RIGHT in our path! Typical. We wheel our gurney through the crowd. Squeeze between tight doorways while feverishly attempting not to lose our "guide to middle earth". ;-P
Once the patient scavenger hunt stops, we see our patient through the gates...surrounded by "Caution-kids at play" yellow colored T-shirts. Giant smiley faces on each one. (This is the "happiest, terrible call" ever!)
We get the skinny:
"This little one is 8. They have a LARGE hematoma on the forehead...hit by a ball. Family is here- one will ride with. There is a language barrier, but some English. They're not from the area so run them on up to *Insert Local ER Here*, for mechanism."
Skat Man lifts our smallest patient of the shift, on to the cot. They're calm, alert & holding an ice pack gingerly to the swollen mass on their head while we buckle them in. Not a single tear or face stricken with pain from a child that makes your soul die on the inside. Maybe it was because of the "bright yellow shirt of happy" she was wearing?? It MUST have super powers!! (Who could be upset with a smiley face the size of a bear cub grinning up from their belly?!)
I flip around in the street to head up to the ER. Lights on & with quick chirps of the siren so no drunken fan attempts "Real Life Frogger", in front of us. A humming of conversation seeps up front from Skat Man getting more details. Glancing back, I see the "Holy CR*P!! *Teeth clinched, mouth open- face stretching* kind of look take over Skat Man's face as he shifts his glance back to the winner of most calm patient award who's calmly enjoying their very first Sick Bus ride.
As we wheel in, "Soooooo...*under breath* Apparently, they were struck by a LINE DRIVE that went foul, directly in the forehead. No LOC (loss of consciousness), got knocked back but DIDN'T EVEN CRY!" (All pertinent info needed BEFORE transporting, if our first on-scene white shirts would have been so kind to mention). I look at the kid sitting next to me, staring back from under the giant ice pack covering her eyes- in wonderment. "What ?! Wow, seriously? Took THAT like a CHAMP!!"- I whisper back.
We get them checked in & ready for eval, each *Insert Local ER Here* staff member's head cranes sideway's immediately upon hearing the cause behind tonight's visit of our sheepishly smiling, elementary school child comfortably positioned on our gurney. Amazed & humbled with their ONLY complaint of the ice making her head chilly..she very well be our next Super Hero! ;-)
We get a room, roll her in & turn her care over to staff in charge tonight. A teddy bear materializes under her arm like a bedtime cuddle buddy. Skat man ascends the trauma podium for this call's pre-hospital presentation. His voices fades as I wheel out to reset for our soon to follow-next call. I stop by the cart of cleaner...
*Upward Left Gaze. Momentary Zoning Out* In my head, this little girl introducing herself to our "My pain's a 15/10!!" type adult transports...imagining it sounding somthing like this:
"Hi! I'm 8 & I took a MLB Line-drive to the face!! *Happy Meal sized- fear inducing, forward lunge* What NOW?! *Popping Disney Princess shirt collar* Pfff! No big deal! I EAT whiny adults like YOU who say their toe pain needs an ambulance to *Insert Local ER Here*, for my after-recess snack!!"...
Changes my of thought now to- "Taking one for the team". Tough cookie, this one. TOUGH Cookie!!
The next afternoon my nephew calls- "I went to the game last night with Auntie. She said you were working & couldn't go.". "Yep, I was. Did you have fun & get your smiley shirt?"..."Aaa-HAH! There was an ambulance when we were leaving. It drove up with it's siren on...was THAT you??"...*Laughing* "Actually this time, (family & friends of all Latte Mecca Movers tend to acquire a habit of looking at each Sick Bus that drives by) Yes. Yes it was!"..."Really?! COOOOL!!" ;-)
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