Do you ever look at some folk and wonder how they do it? How they get positive recognition for something done over the rest of us. How they always seem to be in the right place at the right time? Like, there really is an element of genetic luck to peoples’ success?
And does anyone then wonder bitterly (like me) why it is they don’t!? I mean, if ever there was the opposite to the hero type mentioned above, then I am certainly it. I am the man with the anti-Midas touch. Murphy’s Law incarnate. An anti-hero at best.
Three examples immediately come to mind for this, some I have “touched” upon on previous posts. The last of which happened not too long ago and completely sums up my whole existence.
It has been a while. A looong while. And yes, there are good explanations to the lack of entries. And explanations you will get, along with great stories/anecdotes/twists of truths/and downright lies. But the main thing is, I have moved. I am no longer in the LAS. I have now moved somewhere up North. Don’t worry, I’ll write about it soon. But as you can probably imagine, it’s been hectic.
For now, stand by on the next entry as I begin to write it . . . . it’s a long one, but will do for a re-starter/re-boot to the blog.
I have dozens and dozens of blogs to write still of the times in London so they’re not going to stop. And now I’ll have the new “up-north” ones too. So, stand by . . .
PS Apologies but thanks for the patience
We have a coded phrase in the LAS, that when spoken on priority or on open mic, will alert whoever is listening that urgent police are required and needed on the hurry up! It’s used so that attackers don’t obviously know you are calling for help. Unfortunately, not everyone in the LAS knows about this.
Just so there is continued secrecy to that phrase I have used the phrase, VECTOR VECTOR instead . . . as it’s equally as stupid as the real one.
As the woman sat on the floor screaming, the two men set about beating her again. This time, I acted instinctively – I’d had enough. And, rushing forward I placed myself between the screaming woman and the two men.
“Get back!” I pushed them back a step or two and pressed priority on my radio – nothing.
The two men charged at the same time, one brandishing a walking crutch above his head as if to strike. This time, with instinct, I open-hand pushed both men away in their faces, pushing one to the floor.
“Get BACK!!!” I shouted and again pressed priority on my radio – nothing again!
I was now consciously aware of the ludicrousness of the situation. Here I was, maintaining a heroic side ward stance, one hand outstretched to the two men stood, poised ready to pounce either side of me. Whilst my other hand was outstretched to the woman sat cowering behind me on the floor. Some might of suggested this was the epitome of chivalry and heroism, like a Mexican standoff . . . but really, this was nothing more than a ridiculous end to a pathetic situation which I really wish I’d never been sent to in the first place!
Over the police radio we could hear carnage and mayhem. Someone, somewhere, was being stabbed. Multiple times. And it was happening right now.
Over the top of police shouting for urgent assistance, were the screams of anguish, pain and despair.
As I buckled up, I nodded at Terry*, who was in the driver’s seat, “Right! Terry, ready? Let’s go!”.
Terry was brand new to our Unit and tonight was his first ever JRU shift. Terry nodded back and started the engine! . . .
The first episode of this documentary came out last week. I only got round to watching it after it had aired, as a friend contacted me saying they were currently watching it.
BBC One – Ambulance – documentary
I opened my work tray the other day to find an envelope. Inside was a letter. A standard letter suggesting with all integrity that I (amongst others) had managed NOT to kill someone.
Now, these letters don’t come often, but they do come. In fact, I have a few now. And I wager that anyone working in the job long enough will end up receiving at least one at some point.
I remember the job too . . . well, by process of elimination it’d be hard not to. Of the five cardiac arrests I’ve done this year so far, only one of them wasn’t called on scene! Continue reading