Wednesday 1 July 2009

Tin Can

It's far too hot to be sitting in the back of an ambulance with no air-conditioning, so of course I decided it was time to do a shift on one, rather than stay in my beautifully chilled car. Well, strictly speaking there is air-con, but as it's summer and hot for a change, it doesn't work. Like the heating that refuses to fire on the coldest day of the year. Every patient we had complained about the temperature both inside and out of the truck. Every patient except one.
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Terry is in floods of tears. His 40+ years on earth have taught him only that he's the Chosen One. Chosen for anguish, chosen for torment, chosen for hardship. He's fought all his adult life against it, but just can't tear away from the reins that constantly pull him back into the abyss. He has good days and bad days, sometimes the good days last for weeks, but sometimes the bad days do too.
Today's a bad day. Terry can't control the sobs, can't shake off the panic. He looks at the ambulance and sees it as a means to enforced incarceration. He's not even sure it's a real ambulance and asks for my ID just to make sure that I really am who I say I am. He is shaking with terror, sobbing uncontrollably. All he wants is to feel that he can cope. To stop the voices and visions that have once again taken over his life. Eventually, Terry is able to calm down a little. Just enough for us to coax him into the back of the ambulance without him feeling as though he's being kidnapped. As the back door of the ambulance is opened at the hospital, all the colour drains from his face, and he is overcome with paralysing fear once again. I have to start the process once more. Allaying his fears, controlling those tears, reducing the trepidation that is his every waking thought. Slowly but surely, Terry starts to come round. He knows he needs the help. He knows he wants the help. Reluctantly he agrees to walk in to the monster that may hold the cure.
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As we enter the hospital building, he stops, turns round, and takes one last look at the ambulance. With a great gush of tears he says, "God, it's hot in that Tin Can".

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Eh? Hot in your tin can? Forget air con. You try driving an open tractor around our fields in the 'Valley' next to the 'River'. 'Twas so hot today, the air burnt my cheeks as we moved along.
Keep cool - I can't;->
Et.