Ambulances

I had been in an ambulance twice before in my life.

You see ambulances go by all the time. Do we really give thought to who is inside or why? Whose life has been impacted, how badly or how much, is not really anything we give thought to as we pull over to the side of the road and wait for it to pass. I try to remember now, that every time an ambulance passes with the sirens going, something tragic has happened in someones life and I am grateful it is not mine.

My first time in an ambulance, I was 16. I "borrowed" my Mom's 1975 Vega, It was fire engine red, with a white racing stripe down the middle, kind of a cool looking car really. I still wonder now, as I did then, why my mom, a middle aged mother of twelve had such a sporty looking car. Anyway, I took the car and picked up my friend Doug and we headed to Downtown Vancouver to visit some friends. I only had my license for a few months and the roads were snow covered (yes it used to snow in Vancover back in the day) so I was driving slowly and carefully. The visit went well and we were heading home,  in plenty of time to get there before Mom & Dad got home. Although Doug was a year older than me, he had only recently obtained his learners permit. Despite that, he asked if he could drive for a bit. Certainly against my better judgement I agreed, however implored him to drive carefully. I remember the events leading up to the accident so clearly. We were driving East on Prior St, just east of the Georgia Viaduct. There are two lanes heading East, we were in the curb lane. Due to the snow on the road, traffic was slow. However Doug decided it was too slow and so he went into the left lane to pass. Snowplows had been down the road, and thus there was a big pile of snow separating the East and West bound lanes. Due to Doug's inexperience, more likely due to his youthful haste, he did not succesfully negotiate his pass on the left and the left front tire of the Vega hit the snowbank  in the middle of the road. Doug completely lost control and the car went into a spin. I remember spinning and then nothing. I woke up laying on the  road, I heard voices. Police officer: "Who was driving?" Doug :"Mike was". I had no recollection at that time. I looked over and saw the car literally wrapped  around a Hydro pole on  the passenger side, it looked terrible and the kind of damage where you look and wonder how anyone could have survived. I was put in the ambualnce and taken to Vancouver General. I remember the smell of the ambulance, the sound of siren,  the voices of the paramedics. I tried to look around, because I was amazed that I was in an ambulance, but they had me immobilized. 

We arrived at the hosptial and I was checked over. Bumps and bruises and scrapes, but nothing serious and apparently I was going to live. However rather than being thankful I remember thinking I hope I am somewhat injured because that will at least delay, and hopefully reduce the punishment I know I am going to receive from my parents when I get home. A police officer came in and asked who had been driving. I had no recollection at the time, however I did remember hearing Doug say at the accident scene that I had been driving, so I said I was. He left and then returned 10 minutes later and said we have a problem, Doug says he was driving. Ok I said, I don't recall so just go with whatever he says. Bad decision, cost me $3,000.00. I allowed an unlicensed driver to operate the car and so insurance wouldn't pay, Doug didn't have any money and Dad rightfully insisted on being paid for the loss.  $3,000.00 for a 16 year old in 1976, was a lot of money. You ask my 19 year old daughter now and she will tell you that $3,000.00 is a lot of money in 2012. Anyway, the story was to be about my first ambulance ride, not the costly mistakes of my youth. There are lots of examples of those, maybe we'll talk in future.

Flash forward 33 years. Went camping for a long weekend at Katherine lake on the Sunshine Coast. Good time, sitting around the fire at night. Had a few too many drinks, got up to go get another (like I needed it) stumbled  and did a faceplant. Pretty embarrasing, and I got pretty cut up. Had to call an ambulance and it was a forty minute drive into Sechelt to the hospital. Completely different experience from the first one.This time I was awake and aware, well kind of aware, as I was pretty drunk. I thought I was being charming during the transport, however I suspect the paramedics may have a different interpretation and were most likely happy to be rid of me. Anyway, fairly uneventful.

I could have easily gone another 33 years before having to get into an ambulance again and not missed it, but that was not meant to be. Before getting to the ambulance from the plane, I am wheeled on a stretcher through the airport, but in the back storage areas and such. The paramedics are quick to tell us that use of this route is generally only allowed by VIPs and such. Well I am  not impressed, and still not pleased that I am on a stretcher anyway. Although I msut now be honest and admit I was glad I didn't have to walk, I was just so tired. So through the airport and loaded into the ambulance. Young fellow, no more than 22 - 23 is driving with Arletha in the passenger seat, and the senior man, maybe 25 years old, is in the back wiht me. Then the interrogation starts. I don't think he meant it that way, but Jesus, Mary & Joseph, the number of questions was getting quite tiresome. He got my entire life history. We arrived at the Desert Springs Hospital in sunny Las Vegas at around 2:00 pm. I am placed in  Station #10 and told that a doctor will be with us shortly. In the interim, I tell Arletha to call the travel insurance company and apprise them of the situation. Long story about that, but that is for another time. Male nurse takes all of the vitals, doctor arrives and completes an assessment and orders a chest X Ray, which is done bedside. This is followed by a CT Scan that I am wheeled away for. In the end they decide I have pneumonia and put me on IV antibiotics. At this point I am still thinking I may get out, but nooooo. We are going to have to admit you they say, you are too sick to be out. How long will I be here, a day or two they say....Crap! We don't have a bed available yet, so you will have to stay in ER until a bed opens up.....Crap!

With me in the hospital, Arletha, my dear wife who has never lived in, and has no desire to ever live in, a big city, is now going to have to return to the airport, retrieve our luggage, secure the rental car and check into the hotel. This may be old hat for some travellers, but as I mentioned before, Arletha and I had only travelled once before, and I looked after all of that. Although she did her best to hide it, my heart ached for her as I knew the fear and trepidation she had as we kissed good bye and she headed out to get a cab at about 7:00 pm. By 10:00 the ER is starting to get busy. This is the closest hospital to the world famous Las Vegas strip and thus as the evening progresses more and more inebriated people are coming in with various afflcitions and injuries. Lot of blood, lots of drug over doses, a truly horrific and unending horror movie which I could not turn off. By 2:00 am I am ready to say the heck with it and get myself out of there.  Unfortunately I am trapped. So I lay there, listened to the endless harmony of all of the medical alarms going off, watched as the fellow who came in passed out and was placed in the bed next to me woke up and pulled out his IV and started to bleed everywhere, listened to the old lady two beds down call out every 10 minutes or so telling anyone who could hear her that she was in pain. It was the longest night of my life. At 9:30 am on Sunday, I was wheeled upstairs to a ward and given a bed. Even though I still really wanted to get out of the hospital, I have  to admit that getting into a real bed and getting some peace and quiet to go to sleep was blissful. Little did I know that the blissful feeling was to be short lived.