I often day dream. Always about stupendously impossible things. Like beating Chuck Norris in a martial arts tournament whilst my eight pack abs glisten in the setting sun. Or abseiling into the set of Countdown and rescuing a buxom Carol Vorderman from the evil clutches of Richard Whiteley whilst he sits in his evil chair stroking an evil white cat.
I remember, not so long ago, day dreaming about being a Super Paramedic . . . My ambulance had screeched to a halt and I had dived out tucking and rolling for good effect right up to the patient – a young cub scout who’d been knocked over whilst helping an old lady cross the road.
HEMS arrived along with the LFB and the Police and everyone paused waiting for me to make the decision of what to do next.
“You guys – ” I pointed at the Police “Control the crowds!”
Their visors slammed down and their shields came up. A volley of tear gas cannisters were deployed and row upon row of charging officers with the letters “SPG” printed on their backs poured over the terrified school children and old age pensioners.
“You guys – ” I pointed at the LFB, “rescue that cat!”
As one they turned their Borg-like heads to a tree behind me and zeroed in on a small fluffy cat half way up on one of its branches. As one unit they set about destroying everything in their path and assimilating anyone they touched. The tree was vaporised and the cat utterly annihilated. The LFB, as one, then withdrew back to their vehicle where they plugged themselves in to recharge.
“You guys – ” I pointed at the HEMS crew who consisted of all beautiful women “I need forceps – stat!” I set to work on the injured child, cracking his chest, massaging his heart, sewing arteries, fixing broken bones and generally saving his life. All the while the HEMS women would paw at my godly body and call my name with sickly hero worship . . .
“Binder . . . Binder . . . Binder . . . ”
I snapped back into reality.
“Binder! What the hell are you doing?!”
I stared at my crew mate for a few seconds. She looked horrified. I looked at my patient who was on the trolley bed in the back of the ambulance. It wasn’t the cub scout but instead an old lady and she looked in immense pain. I was knelt in front of her holding one of her hands. I lowered my eyes to see what it was I was meant to be doing. A cannula was stuck deep in the back of her hand and blood was dripping onto the floor.
Ah, I thought, this is awkward. ” . . . erm,”
My crew mate barged me out the way and took over, “Let me finish this! You go and put the call in and get us to Hospital”
Moving out the way I suddenly felt the urge to purge my wrongs and do something – heroic. I turned and attempted a tuck and roll to the back door. Failing abysmally I hit my head on the edge of the bed and ended up in a crumpled heap in the corner.
“What on EARTH are you doing now!?” Both my crew mate and the patient looked utterly baffled.
I crawled off the back of the truck and stood up awkwardly rubbing the back of my head. A used glove had managed to stick itself to one of my breast pockets and my face was glowing with shameful embarrassment. Shutting the door slowly I managed to mumble my closing words pathetically . . .
“I’ll er . . . just get us off to the Hospital then . . . um,”
Day dreaming is all well and good – but I think there is a time and a place for it.