I mentioned a while back that I used to be an EMT. My paid EMT gig was working for an ambulance transport company. (It is just as thrilling as it sounds.) My unpaid EMT gig was volunteering for the local rescue squad. That was much more entertaining.
Weekends were good for ambulance calls. When the weekend rolls around it seems like everyone is finally ready to unleash all the bad decisions that they were holding off on making during the work week. A lot of calls come in for drunk people, people fighting, drunk people fighting, and once in a while someone has a non alcohol or substance related emergency. If I had to rank my favorite ever ambulance calls, the following would be number 1.
It was Saturday night, surprise surprise. We got called to a local supermarket parking lot with the report of an unresponsive male in a car in the parking lot. Off we went. Sirens, lights. (All actually just as fun as you’d think.) We found the car with the guy in it. Just as the report said, he was unresponsive. He was so unresponsive that the needle was still in his arm, if I remember correctly. One of my partners grabbed that and bagged it, and we hauled the guy out of the drivers seat and onto our stretcher. About this time, the paramedics arrived. Everyone piled into the back of the ambulance, and we started to head for the hospital.
Narcan is a drug that is used to counter the effects of opioids. I watched the medics administer it, and waited for our man’s overdose to start reversing. When the guy started to show signs of coming around, a funny thing happened. Someone grabbed one of the flashlights in the rig, pulled the guy’s eyelids back, shined the light down, and in a very Morgan Freeman like voice said, “THIS IS THE LORD,,,, MOVE AWAY FROM THE LIGHT.” One of my friends later told me that because of this particular treatment, there is a former junkie turned street corner preacher in one of the local cities. Whatever it takes.
On these kinds of ambulance calls, the cops are involved, along with everyone else. By the time we got to the hospital, the guy was groggy, but responsive. Our police escort got out of his car, walked up to the stretcher and said, “I know you we went to high school together. Remember me? You’re going to jail.” This guy’s Sunday was now officially ruined, but at least he was going to spend it on the right side of the lawn.
Lesson #1 Herion is bad for you in many ways.
Lesson #2 Near death experiences are not to be trusted.
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