Rescue Two to Three - Post #7

Rescue Two has returned with a blanket and throws it over my shoulders. Good idea. I am shivering furiously as I am now slipping ever so gracefully into shock. She tells me the ambulance is on the way. I ask about the kids and she informs me that they are with Rescue One, having that dinner I couldn't seem to get organized. She is kind enough not to further her earlier line of questioning regarding my thinking or lack there of, the loss of my mind, etc. Instead she concentrates on hugs and keeping me as warm and calm as possible. All the while I have two feet and a lip that continue to inflate like blown off airbags.

Thanks be to Jesus, I can hear a siren coming on strong. Sure enough, shortly there after, enters Rescue Three, stage left. Two blue suited gentlemen with a roll away bed, wheel to my side in the yard. The first kneels, looks at my bleeding lip and says "How's your head"? I stare him back and say " You're not gonna punch me in the mouth are you"? Followed by me s'plaining what just transpired between Rescue Two and myself when she first approached. They all have some what of an uncertain chuckle while looking questioningly at Angel. "S'ok" I add, "Quite appropriate. I absolutely deserved it". Just what the situation needed. A little comic relief. Rescue Three makes a comment on the bloody lip delivered by Rescue Two and suggests that would likely defer some of my attention from the lower end issue. "That's what I said! Please! Hit me again would you"? Thankfully everyone declined.

The actual packing up and carting out the meat was rather anticlimactic, and by that I mean no drugs administered or permitted. Not until after diagnosis. At the hospital. Hopefully. A neck collar is a fixed (not the last time I'll sport one of those!) then the slab is carefully placed on a body board. Straps are fastened to immobilize. The gurney is lowered and the body board lifted then secured to the roll away.

The stretcher is then raised back to standard operating level for transport and the entire rig, with the cargo aboard, is then wheeled to the street and loaded to the truck, all while a crowd of neighbours, who have gathered to see what all the commotion is about, looks on. Angel hopes in with me and while Medic Two is taking vital signs and pumping me with oxygen to try and slow up some of the hyper ventilating, Medic One is behind the wheel and we are off to the hospital. I didn't even warrant the siren on the way in. I guess that was a good thing 'cause it indicated to me that we were not, in the medics minds at least, dealing with an emergency situation here. Just another regular day in the course of life in suburbia.