AMBULANCE STORY ~ WHERE DO YOU LIVE, LOVE, I CANNOT FIND YOUR HOME?

During my ambulance days I often drove a 'Pope Mobile'. This vehicle was ideal for the job of ferrying patients to and from hospital for kidney dialysis, particularly if they were seated in a wheelchair.  All my patients got to know me well and some of them had a sharp sense of humour to match mine.  I used to take my bit of double glazing Georgian Bar with me, since I am an agent for a local window company.  I sometimes held it up to them as they were entering the Pope Mobile, saying "Bless you, my son/daughter".  It always got a laugh and brightened their day a little.  

It was a cold dark night in the middle of winter.  I was meeting an elderly lady patient for the first time so I was serious and I certainly did not use my little cross on that particular night.  She was frail and in a wheelchair and had just completed her dialysis ~ she had just started with dialysis and was nervous and had recently moved from her own home into a nursing home, always a sad occasion for them.  Sometimes a patient's blood pressure drops after dialysis and that causes them to feel unwell, so she was feeling a little like that and I was trying to get her home and into the warmth as quickly as possible.  I knew the nursing home was nearby but it was brand new and I did not know exactly where it was located, apart from the general area.  The whole complex was newly built and not on any map, and certainly not on my SatNav. 

We approached where I thought it might be and I asked her if she recognised where it was and which way to go.  She said, "We are going in the wrong direction I think, if we turn round and travel the other way I might recognise where we are".   I turned round and we journeyed the other way and she said, "It's too dark and I can't see properly."  Stress was beginning to rear its ugly head and I saw a group of youths by some shops so I parked the vehicle and asked them if they knew where it was, but got the response, "Don't know, gov, try the cop shop up the road!"  I was taking a bit of a chance walking over to them because this area is the roughest in Bristol and people are mugged there quite frequently.  There were six of them and I would not have stood a chance.

I reached the police station and explained the situation and the policeman was quite concerned I had ventured out alone to see that group of 'yobbos', as he described them, saying they had loads of problems with their behaviour. I guess I must have been lucky that night.  He said he knew exactly where the nursing home was and said, "I'll take you, I'll hop into the police car and follow me".  I did, we got there and I thanked him and shook his hand.  I thought that was very decent of him.  It was very near where we had been looking but was hidden behind some wrought iron gates.  I got the lady inside and out of the cold and handed her over to her carer, feeling very relieved she was home safely and without incident.

We have had several instances of not knowing where to deliver patients ~ perhaps I shall tell you some of those stories soon.

A TALE OF JACK - AMBULANCE STORY

Alas, Jack is no longer with us - I heard he passed away two years ago.  He was a much loved patient during my days with the Ambulance Service - everyone liked him. 

Jack was a double amputee and a renal patient.  He lost both legs to Type 1 Diabetes a number of years ago, and then both kidneys failed, and he almost died.  Fortunately he recovered but he had to have four hours of kidney dialysis three times a week for the rest of his life.  He was considered too old for a transplant and our private ambulance company had the contract to take him  to and return him from the renal unit three times a week.  He lived 40 miles away and so it was something of a day out for him and he looked forward our company.  He loved being with us and chatting and telling and hearing jokes.  He really did have a great sense of humour.

In spite of his disability he was the life and soul of the party and put aside all the hurt and disappointment of his failing health.  His wife was a lovely lady, of similar disposition, and often gave us a piece of cake and a cup of tea before we wheeled Jack to our vehicle, often a Pope-Mobile like one of these. 

We wheeled him up the ramp and secured the wheelchair with fittings, which incorporated a seat belt.

Sometimes we arrived in a large ambulance and he pretended to get all excited and say, "Can we drive on sirens and blues and watch them all get out of the way?"

"Sorry Jack - it's not an emergency!"

"Oh! you spoil sport!", he would say, and clutched his chest in jest.

You had to watch Jack's keen sense of humour.  He loved playing tricks on us, particularly new ambulance personnel.  I remember the first day I met him I had him secured in the Pope-Mobile  and was about to drive away when he said, "Sorry! I have forgotten something!".  I stopped and said, "Ok Jack . .  What is it? . . . I'll pop back to get it for you!"

He said, his face deadpan, "My slippers!" 

I said, "OK", and was just about to leave the vehicle and I heard him laugh and then it dawned on me! . . . and we both laughed and he said, "Slippers! I get you chaps every time with that one!"

On the way he saw a pub and said, "I wish I was in there, I'd soon get legless!" . . . or engineer another situation where he would say he did not have a keg to stand on.

It seems a bit macabre for him to say things like that, but it was his way of dealing with the situation.  Yet underneath it all I knew he was sad, and so were we.  

He used to like being driven along by all the attractive young ambulance ladies and when I arrived sometimes he would say, "How disappointing, I was hoping it would be Michelle or Natasha or whoever!"
Well I wonder, can you blame him?

  Then he would say,  "It's ok Eddie - you can tell me some jokes instead!"



I said, "Now listen Jack, I am driving the Pope -Mobile, so I have got just one thing to say to you!"

"What's that, Eddie?"

Holding aloft my piece of double glazing

"Bless you, my son!"  

Eddie with his bit of double glazing which got a few laughs


Boy did he laugh.

Yes, Jack was quite a character and is sadly missed but I expect he is making someone laugh up there in the blue yonder.  He just made the best out of life and we all admired him for it.


There are quite a number of patients we got really close to - you just can't help it in that job, and it was almost heartbreaking when they died as they invariably did after a few years with failed kidneys - even with dialysis.



I'll write a few more ambulance stories from time to time.  I just need to jog my memory first.  I will put my thinking hat on.

(In the interests of confidentiality Jack was not his real name - neither do I use real names in my stories, except mine!!)