Monthly Archives: April 2015

Bad Advice

One day, while having a political discussion with a friend (about the futility of the Occupy movement, I think it was), he throws this quote at me:

In any moment of decision, the best thing you can do is the right thing, the next best thing is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing.  

— Theodore Roosevelt

I thought about it for a minute, and called bullshit.

 
You can actually make things way worse by doing the wrong thing. Let’s say you’re lost in the woods. It’s better to stay put, then walk the wrong way… off a cliff.

 

In EMS I can think of a ton of examples of how doing nothing is better than, say, pulling a patient from a car wreck and causing irreversible spinal damage. A medic once told me, regarding triage: Don’t just do something; stand there!

 

The other day I saw this on the wall at one of our stations:

 
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Sorry, Teddy! The best thing you can do is the right thing, after that, all bets are off.

 
 
 
 

Boats, and Trains, and Helicopters, and things that Go

Here’s a project I finally got around to.

For the last six months, I’ve been shooting “B-Roll” video footage out the window of my ambulance, while posted by the river, or while meeting helicopters in random parking lots. I knew one day I would mash it up with a recording of my band from college from waaaaaaaay back in 1992.

Here is that video

Note: The first few seconds of the film is not an ambulance, but is the “Big Blue Truck”, our trusty gig vehicle for two decades.

Spring is in the Air

… and so are these guys:

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Talk about an easy day. Did a standby gig at a motocross today. We got time and a half, and there was only one broken bone in ten hours.

To be honest it was actually kind of boring (and LOUD!!!!). But this guy… :

moto

… brought new meaning to the phrase, “go big or go home”. In the words of Rudy Ray Moore, check out this gooooood shit:

So much ‘Murica!.

Take me to the River

We spend a lot of time posted down by the river on this shift. Especially in the early morning hours before the city wakes up.

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Usually its just us and the gulls.

But today this guy comes up to me and asks if we knew anything about the search.

The what?

I idle at suspicious—especially when I’m in uniform—so I’m dubious. He tells me his brother went off the bridge last night.

I could tell by his thousand yard stare as he said this, he wasn’t conning me.

“Sorry man, I’m just EMS. If I hear anything on my radio, I’ll flag you down.” I never heard anything on my radio; didn’t really expect I would.

Terrible.

The worst part was how peaceful the river was that morning. Like it didn’t care. The ice was mostly gone. Families and children began to arrive.

What the hell happened last night?

Eventually, the search began: A boat, a helicopter and the dozen or so,
grieving family members who had since arrived.

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Finally, we got our first dispatch of the day and split.

When we caught a break towards the end of our shift, we passed by the river on last time.

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All you could tell was something terrible had happened.