Rabbitch

O hai.

Yes, I've been gone a long time, and I'm quite sure there are only two people still reading. I had some things to work out, and I had thought I had nothing left to say.

Apparently that was untrue.

Now I'm back -- and there are things about which I still feel I need to write. There will be posts about knitting and fibre fests and so forth (and I still owe you a post about how I lost my virginity at Denny's in Portland), but tonight I want to talk about something else.

I was talking on Facebook tonight -- that's one of the reasons I've been gone so long ... Facebook ate my brains. It's like CRACK! And it's so much easier to post five times a day with two or three sentences than to write a whole blog post. And I'm lazy.

But I digress.

I was talking on Facebook tonight and a friend of mine posted "The mortifying sight of an ambulance in the fast lane, all lights flashing, stuck behind several cars and a van who are clearly steadfastly ignoring its presence."

That hurt my heart, so badly.

Here in Canada, we are required by law to make way for emergency vehicles, and we do so. We are required to slow down and move to the other lane if we're on the highway, and I've actually seen cars get up on the sidewalk to let ambulances and fire trucks through if we're in the city.

Well, except for the folks who drive Hummers, but that's a rant for a different time.

And so, a request. When you see an emergency vehicle on the road with the lights and the sirens on, please pull over.

A few minutes in the time that it takes to get to a person, cut them out of their car, put the fire out or get them to the hospital can be the difference between life and death. And I'm sure most of you know that.

But what you don't know ...

I work at a hospital. Actually I work at two hospitals, and I've worked at two others. I like the work and I'm well-suited for it. The place I'm working now, it'll be ten years this year since I signed on.

I work on the switchboard. I have no contact with patients, which is good for them because I have no medical training whatsoever. But, what I do is I call the codes. Code Blue (cardiac arrest), Code Pink (pediatric emergency), and the trauma codes in Emergency. And all of the other codes. We're all about the codes.

I'm the calm voice overhead that calls Dr. Kildare back to the Emergency Room, stat. (I think I've actually said "stat" four times in the combined time that I've worked at this hospital -- ten years -- and the last one -- eight years. We actually don't say that, no matter what TV tells you.)

But the thing that you don't know, and that you likely should, is that if you or your loved one is in crisis, there are more people than you know of who care.

When a trauma call comes in, I fret. I rejoice when you go home in one piece. I cry when you don't.

It's not just the people doing the hands-on work who are pulling for you.

So, from the calm voice overhead; I love you, and I'm working like hell to keep you safe.

(Enough of the serious stuff. Next up, knitting porn.)

And apparently I don't know how to work Blogger any more, as there aren't any paragraph breaks. I have to sleep now but I'll fix it in the morning.

edited to add: a) I've figured out the paragraph breaks and b) the day after I posted this I actually did have to say "stat" overhead. Made me want to laugh.