The 492

The 492 bus is standing on top of my patient.

It hasn't run over him.

He fell, and landed underneath it.

A feat of luck, judgement and special effects worthy of Hollywood made sure that the actual wheels missed him.

He's a little dazed and confused, and mostly scared. There are no obvious injuries other than a small lump on the front of his head.

We extricate him, and upset the fire-brigade in so doing. I think they felt we stole their thunder. He's moved to the ambulance and reassessed. As we do so, his phone rings, and "The Boss" appears on the screen.

"That's my wife", he says. "Can you answer it, and tell her I'm OK?"

I open the flip-style phone, say hello, and before I can get another word in, she goes into a gush of announcements.

"I'm gonna be late!" She yells.

"I'm on the 492 bus!" She hollers.

"A man's just gone under the bus and we're not allowed off!" She finally stops.

I whisper to our patient, asking his wife's name. "Lisa", he whispers back.

"Er, Lisa", I begin, "I'm from the ambulance service. We're with your husband at the moment. He's OK, but would like to speak to you in person. He can't talk on the phone right now, but if you get off the bus and walk to the ambulance next to you, you can see him for yourself".

The line goes dead, and an instant later, there's a knock on the ambulance door. I open the door for Lisa to jump in.

The babble starts again, a mix of shock, upset, confusion, and relief.

"You IDIOT!" She shouts at him. "You complete and utter MORON! I was phoning to tell you to go a different way home, the whole place is jammed. And then I find out that you're the one jamming it!"

She bursts into tears, looks at her husband, and as we slowly pull away from the scene, she gently kisses his lumpy forehead.

"I'm never getting the 492 again..."