Decisions
The Delirium Threemen
August 2011
Don't own the copyright to any of the characters depicted in Emergency they are the property of Mark VII/Universal Studios.
This is a tag on the Promotion episode from Season 3. Content from the show belongs to the original creators (Harold Jack Bloom, R.A. Cinader, Preston Wood) and their dialog is in bold text. No copyright infringement intended.
Original content is the sole property of The Delirium Threemen and may not be used without permission.
Written in Roy's POV.
Knowing You Have a Decision to Make
Johnny and I were conversing over a cup of coffee when Marco excitedly entered the kitchen. The other guys busted his chops a bit for being so chipper. Marco announced that the Engineer's list was out. Everyone, except for me, clamored out of the kitchen. I pushed the coffee cup and saucer in front of me away and got up from the table as Johnny egged me on to follow the others to Captain Stanley's office. A part of me didn't really want to know how I had done on the Engineer's test. I dreaded finding out the results only because I knew deep down that I did well on it. I slowly made my way out of the kitchen to Captain Stanley's office.
The other guys were crowded around the Captain's desk. Chet and I were the only ones who had taken the test. He called out my name as he scribbled something down on the piece of paper. I weaved my way through the other guys as they milled around the office until I was standing beside Captain Stanley. He handed me the piece of paper along with a 'congratulations' before turning his attention back to the phone. I stared at the piece of paper with a mixture of pride in my accomplishment as a feeling of dread that began to wash over me over what this meant.
Mike read the paper from over my shoulder and clapped me on the back, "Ninth, beautiful. Welcome to the club."
"You'll make engineer next month," Marco added as he reached over and gave me a quick pat on the shoulder from behind Mike and added another "Congratulations!" to the pile I was sure to receive today.
There was a split second there where I resisted the urge to snatch the pencil out of Captain Stanley's hand and erase the writing on the paper in front of me. It would have been a futile attempt and wouldn't have changed things – the imprint of his writing would still have been visible on the paper. The room began to feel crowded, almost as if the walls were moving in. The sudden need to leave and be by myself hit me. Chet was still waiting for his results with the others as I slipped out of the office. Johnny's footsteps echoed from behind me as I walked back towards the kitchen. He must have noticed me ducking out of the office. It was almost as if he sensed that something was bothering me and it had something to do with the 'good' news I had just received.
"What's wrong?" he asked as we both stopped beside the squad.
My answer, "How would you like to leave the paramedics? That's what I'll have to do now, I guess."
Johnny didn't have a chance to respond as the other guys came out of Captain Stanley's office. Chet's face had the look of disappointment and disbelief after finding out he had placed 74th on the list. At that instant, a part of me wanted to trade places with him. The likelihood that Chet Kelly would be leaving Station 51 anytime soon was pretty slim at this point. The 'funeral procession' for Chet Kelly's abysmal placing on the Engineer's list passed between Johnny and me as they made their way to the kitchen.
"Well, if you feel that way, what'd you take the test for?" Johnny asked bluntly. I learned a long time ago that the word subtle is not in his vocabulary.
I muttered the only response that came to mind. "Right now, I couldn't tell you." Not a very substantial answer to his question. Deep down this wasn't what I really wanted, but it was what was best for Joanne and the kids. Why put off the inevitable, at some point I would have to leave the paramedic program.
I couldn't muster anything else to say to Johnny so I left him standing in the bay as I headed into the kitchen. Marco and Mike were trying to boost Chet's spirits as I made my way around the table, folding the piece of paper in my hand. I wanted to say something to Chet, but what the hell could I say that would have made him feel better?
Johnny was already sitting on the table. I sat down beside Johnny, who had a half-grin on his face. "I wonder who I'm gonna get for a new partner when you get moved up."
I stared at the paper in my hand. "Well, maybe I won't," I answered.
I knew Johnny was trying to lighten the mood with his remark. He no more wanted to break in a new partner than spend the rest of his life handcuffed to a mopey Chet Kelly. I was torn between giving up a job I loved to become an Engineer, meanwhile Chet was totally bummed out over his test results. His face was unable to hide the frustration and disappointment because realistically, he was too far down the list to have a serious shot at becoming an Engineer.
Johnny asked about Joanne's feelings on the matter. Joanne certainly supported and encouraged me as I studied for the Engineer's test. She pretty much told me that I was the bread winner in the family and she would support any career choices I made. Good ol' Johnny tried to act as if he wanted me to take the promotion.
I wasn't really sure what I wanted. I loved being a paramedic. I was one of the original six that graduated from the very first paramedic class. I remember the excitement that flowed through my veins at the chance of being a part of something that was on the cutting edge of Emergency medicine. I had gotten very involved in recruiting and informing others about the importance of paramedic program, why it was so sorely needed. I first met Johnny when he came in to inquire about the program. I even helped instruct the first class out of Rampart, which included him.
Now, I had to decide, do I move on or stay with the paramedics a little while longer? At some point I knew I had to move on career wise. But was that time now or later? Was it time to leave the paramedics and move upwards to Engineer?
Life and Death Decisions
We were called out for multiple traffic accidents on the San Diego Freeway. The CHP were only letting emergency vehicles through and warned us about the thick fog ahead. It looked like a cloud had fallen from the sky and settled on the freeway. The dense, impenetrable fog, combined with the morning rush hour traffic equaled a disaster. Soon enough we would be facing the carnage of twisted metal vehicles, human fatalities, and serious injuries.
When we get a run like this, we could be assured that some tough calls were going to have to be made. Who gets treatment often gets based on priority, so the more severely injured are treated first. Normally, there are too many injured and not enough on-the-scene medical personnel to meet their needs. Worst of all, there may be some life and death choices that we may have to make.
I quickly recalled one rescue where that type of judgement came into play. It was while I was transporting a critically injured man to the hospital. He began having trouble breathing and without any way to directly contact the hospital, I made the decision to have the ambulance pull over so I could insert an airway into the patient. The situation was relayed to the hospital. I also got a real good ass-chewing from the patient's doctor. I really took what he said to heart to the point where I seriously considered leaving the paramedics. A talk with Dr. Brackett convinced me not to.
Visibility was squat as we entered the north end of the freeway. I could barely see much beyond the hood of the squad. Johnny held the fog light out of the passenger side before finally hopping out onto the running board to get a better look from outside the squad. It wasn't until he signaled me to stop that I realized we had come across someone. Luckily, he spotted the guy because I certainly didn't see him. Other than being dazed and confused, the man wasn't seriously hurt.
I contacted Rampart on the biophone and let them know about the situation here. Johnny went on ahead while I finished tending the scraped knee of our first victim. It wasn't long before Johnny radioed for assistance. I quickly began to weave though the scattered and overturned cars. Mike, Marco and Chet had found minor injuries so far. I came across the first fatality at Johnny's location. The victim's brother was a bit worked up, but luckily he didn't freak out when I told him there wasn't anything I could do for his brother. Sometimes in situations like this, people don't realize we have to leave the fatalities and move on to the living victims. Fortunately for me, he didn't flip out because that's been known to happen in these types of situations.
I had barely finished taking of care of the man's broken arm and head laceration when a transmission from Mike came through on the HT about a woman trapped and injured in her car. I grabbed the equipment I thought I'd need and told Johnny I'd relay any information to the hospital through him. I made my way through the maze of cars. The scene reminded me of Chris's dinky cars dumped in the middle of the living room floor and for a few seconds I felt like I was in a scene from Land of the Giants; only one big difference: many of these cars were still smoking and some of the real flesh-and-blood people driving them were seriously injured.
When I reached Mike, he was standing by a light brown and tan station wagon on its side. There was a woman inside who was semi-conscious. The only way to get to the woman at the moment was through the rear window which Marco and Chet were checking out.
I knelt down beside the vehicle and called out, "Ma'am. Ma'am are you okay?"
She murmured something about "My daughter."
"Ma'am," I repeated. The woman appeared to be alone in the car and I asked, "Where is she?" Wondering if maybe she thought she had her daughter with her.
She half-moaned out "My daughter," again and added, "She's not moving anymore."
A feeling of urgency rose inside of me as I asked, "Where is your daughter?"
"Underneath me," she answered. I moved my head upwards to see if I could see around her. It was then that I spotted a pair of doll-sized red shoes sticking out from underneath her.
Once Chet and Marco broke in the back window, I climbed inside and made my way up to the woman. She couldn't move or lift herself off her daughter, or even feel her legs, so it was pretty apparent that she suffered from some sort of spinal damage. I was going to have to move her without taking the time to put proper spinal precautions in place in order to free to the small child trapped beneath her. It was highly possible the tiny girl was suffocating from the weight of her mother on top of her.
I positioned my arm and hand around her neck to assist her in keeping her neck and back as straight as possible as I began to raise her. Once I had lifted her high enough, Chet squeezed in underneath her and slowly pulled the tiny doll-like girl out from underneath. Chet gingerly carried the little girl outside as I gently eased the woman back down. Marco set up the tools he needed to cut open the roof while Mike went to get a backboard. I reassured the mother that her baby would be just fine without really knowing if she was.
After we eased the young mother onto the backboard and slid her out of the opening in the roof, Mike came over and whispered to me that the child had wasn't breathing and had no pulse. Chet was performing CPR on her. Damn, I thought, as I picked up the HT and relayed the condition of both patients to Johnny. I felt a flicker of heartbreak for the mother; she didn't need to be a paramedic or a doctor to understand the words I had just spoken. She quietly wept as I began to treat her.
It must have felt like an eternity to the mother when it was really only a few moments that passed before Chet yelled out that he got a pulse and spontaneous respirations. Using the HT, I updated Johnny on the condition of the small child. The young mother began sobbing in relief, knowing that her baby girl was alive. Only a parent can truly understand that mixture of emotion. I could hear Chet cooing reassurances to the baby girl. I'm very sure I saw him quickly wipe his eyes.
There was no mistaking the look in his eyes, Chet had fallen helplessly in love with the now-conscious child that he was softly comforting. When I was finished treating the mother, Chet sat down beside her so she could see her little girl who was now snuggling up against him while I quickly checked her over.
Chet stayed with them while I went up ahead a bit to search for more people in need of medical assistance, following behind Cap, Mike and Marco. Squad 45 was working the south end of the freeway and by the time the ambulance had arrived to transport the mother and child, their end looked clear.
Most of our morning was spent working through the pile up until all that remained was for the tow trucks to move out the last few remaining pieces of wreckage. Johnny and I put our equipment away in the squad. I promised Chet I'd give him an update on the baby girl and her mother as soon as I could before Johnny and I headed over to Rampart to restock our badly depleted supplies. Something told me Chet wouldn't be thinking about his placement on the Engineer's list for the rest of the shift. Chet experienced something far greater and more fulfilling than passing a test that morning.
On the way over to Rampart, I couldn't help but think of how that small child's life never would have been in jeopardy in the first place had she been in a car seat. Many parents aren't even aware of the danger they are placing their small children in by not using a safety seat. So often, parents don't realize that it is impossible to hang onto a child or baby in their lap when a car is involved in an accident.
Let's face it; small children have the least amount of protection in a car crash. Seatbelts sure aren't designed for toddlers and don't provide them with any real protection either. They might hold them in place but let's face reality; what's to stop a toddler from undoing the buckle as you're driving? Until they make car seats mandatory for all small children, they are going to be weightless objects ricocheting around inside a car during an accident, or worse, they become small projectiles launched out of a windshield.
Seatbelts also don't cut it for small children. Often, they can cause serious internal injuries to small children such as ruptured intestines. It sure would be nice if more members of the medical community, politicians, and consumer groups would promote the use of child safety seats more aggressively. If the public could be educated on child safety seats, perhaps more parents would choose to use them. Trust me, you don't want to know what happens to a child after becoming a small human missile that had been shot out of a windshield or back window.
When it comes to the safety of my own children, no amount of cajoling from them will get me to give in especially their rational about all the other kids are allowed to something. In three-year-old Jennifer's case, I just think back to some of those horrific scenes as she argues and pleads with me to let her sit on the seat like a 'big girl.' She sure hates the car seat, but at least Joanne and I know she's safe when we're driving around.
Gathering Information to Base Your Decision On
"You mean to tell me that unless you stay at the lowest rank in the department, you've got to stop working as a paramedic?" Dixie McCall asked as she filled a box with supplies over hearing about my job predicament.
I confirmed that that was the case. Somewhere in the hierarchy of the department it made sense to somebody. I explained the Civil Service rules where men dong the same job have to have the same rank. She was right, it did sound fouled up, especially now. The last few years the paramedic program had proven to be successful in saving lives. Yet, paramedics were at the bottom of the totem pole when it came to rank.
The extra responsibility wasn't enough justification for more pay. I think we were all willing to accept that in the beginning of the program. At least, until it was proven it would make a difference in saving lives. I suppose like most things it always boiled down to money. There never was any consideration given to the additional training required to be a paramedic. Still, there were many that thought paramedics had it easy or the old timers that felt our jobs weren't important or necessary. The crusty seasoned firefighters of yesterday often thought that today's firefighters were bunch of pussies.
Dr. Brackett came up to the nursing station and jotted down some notes in a patient's chart. I exchanged greetings with him before I inquired about the mother and toddler we had brought in from the freeway pileup. I was sure Chet would be pleased to hear that his little sweetheart didn't seem to be suffering any ill effects from this morning, and that things also looked good for the mother.
I suddenly felt the urge to get Dr. Brackett's take on the situation. It wasn't that I particularly found him to be a great conversationalist, but there had been a couple of times where I'd found his insight valuable.
I explained the situation to Dr. Brackett on the way to the lounge. After he poured us both a cup of coffee, he offered to write a letter to headquarters concerning the matter. Unless the department saw a need for an Engineer to also function as a paramedic then I doubted one letter, or even a hundred from Dr. Brackett, would do much good. At that moment, Dr. Early walked into the lounge to tell Dr. Brackett the disaster on the freeway was pretty much cleaned up.
Dr. Brackett informed Dr. Early about my pending promotion and I received another 'congratulation' to add to the pile. Dr. Brackett also dropped the other half of my dilemma onto Dr. Early; it was a choice to either be a paramedic or accept the promotion and give up being a paramedic.
"You know you're just about the best paramedic we've got," Dr. Early responded after I explained that my promotion would move me up to an Engineer.
Dr. Brackett crossed his arms as his eyebrows knitted together. "Yeah, that's what bothers me. All his training, years of experience, plus a genuine talent, right down the tubes. I don't like to lose him."
I muttered a 'thank you' and he went on to add that we make the doctors' 'job a lot easier.' I recalled the numerous times he has said that the paramedics were his eyes and ears out in the field. The two of them did make it clear that they didn't want to influence my decision. Admittedly, I was sort of hoping for that they would try to sway me in some way, just to make my decision easier or perhaps for me.
There was one thing that Dr. Early said that really did stick in my mind. "It's a shame, though. We'll undoubtedly be losing some others. Probably some of the best."
After saying goodbye and thanking the two doctors, I headed out to meet Johnny at the squad. I sort of hung onto Dr. Early's last statement. I had to wonder if the paramedic program could afford to lose some of its best. They had brought up some good points to ponder.
What would happen to the program when the experienced paramedics leave? It takes time for a newly minted paramedic to build up his skill and confidence. Would a point be reached where there are more inexperienced paramedics out there than experienced ones?
Those Affected By Your Decision
Should I have been amazed at the first words out of Johnny's mouth as I met up with him at the squad? "What were you trying to do in there? Get them to talk you out of it?" he asked.
"No, not exactly. This is a very heavy thing. I mean, it means going from a job that I like and I really know to one that I'm not even that sold on. So I just thought I'd talk to some people I respect, see what they think," was my response. Yeah, he was right I suppose on a certain level I was trying to get the good doctors to talk me out of taking the promotion.
Color me surprised when Johnny expressed how happy he would be to talk it over with he offered to give his opinion on the matter, I stupidly accepted. I should have known better when the first thing out of his mouth was about me being selfish about the whole thing. When I asked him "How so?" he went on to point out that there were other people involved besides myself. Sometimes he could be a real bonehead.
"What do you think I took the test for in the first place? I got a whole family growing up. They're gonna need a lot more things. Engineers make a lot more money. That's what it's all about, Joanne and the kids," I told him.
As soon as all those words rushed out of my mouth that was the moment I realized the main reason for taking the test was based on providing more for Joanne and the kids. I wasn't too concerned about moving up in rank. I was only considering the financial benefits it would provide my family with. Okay, so Johnny wasn't really being dense. In his own way, he was trying to remind me of my responsibility towards my family.
Johnny gave me a puzzled look, "Oh. Them, too, huh?"
"Who else is there?" I questioned, wondering why Johnny switched into his hopeless dumbass mode.
"Me."
"Where do you come in?"
"Well, I figure if I can get rid of you, maybe I might be able to get myself a decent partner," Johnny replied as the smartass in him fully emerged.
A few more words were exchanged between us before I made my way to the driver's side of the squad. The only reason he wants a new partner is so he can drive the squad,I thought sarcastically as I slammed the door shut.
Sometimes it takes a little bit of time for 'Johnny-speak' to sink in. He would never come out and directly say he'd miss me as a partner or that he really wasn't looking forward to a new partner.
What's Not to Like About Being a Paramedic?
Like the proverbial dog with a bone, Johnny didn't let the matter drop.
The second we got back to the station he started back up again. "You could always look at it another way. This could be the start of bigger and better things. You could go on to be Captain. Then later on you could be Battalion Chief."
He actually giggled over the thought of me being a Battalion Chief. Not sure what he found so funny about Chief DeSoto. I know he'd rather we remain partners and was trying to cover it up. At some point, becoming a Battalion Chief was a goal in my career. Be careful of the toes you step on today Junior, they may be connected to the ass you have to kiss tomorrow, which could very well be mine.
When I was a boot, fresh out of the academy, I had it all planned out. I would eventually move up to Engineer, then Captain, and eventually to Chief. Those plans got side-tracked by the paramedic program. When the opportunity came up to get involved in something that would truly make a big difference in saving lives I jumped on board. I knew from my experiences as a medic in Vietnam how valuable immediate at-the-scene treatment would be in saving lives. It was one thing to extricate a badly injured person from a car, but we all knew immediate medical treatment was the key to their survival.
Both of us made a beeline to the kitchen. Neither one of us had eaten anything since that morning. It was getting to be a trend having lunch two hours late. After I set the plates down on the table, the more serious side of Johnny emerged.
"Roy, you can't go on being a paramedic forever, you know. Unless you want to make a fireman's pay until you retire. Ow," he said as he went to take the lid off the hot pot.
Yep, that famous Gage lack of impulse control strikes again; hunger overriding common sense.
He brought up the financial advantages for my family and the long term rewards for things such as my pension when I retire. It wasn't as if I hadn't thought those things through. You don't plan your children's college funds or make retirement plans at the last minute.
The tones echoed through the station before we could shovel a spoonful of the whatchamacallit into our hungry mouths. Never fails, we're starving and the second we sit down to eat we get called out. The call was for an attempted suicide over in the fifteen hundred block of West Hill. It seemed like a strange place for an attempted suicide, because if my memory served me right there were mostly stores in that area. Sure enough, we pulled up to a single story office building with nobody around. Johnny jumped out and checked the nearby dentist office with no answer.
I contacted dispatch to confirm the address on the location. Dispatch got no response on the call back. My guess was maybe the caller meant East Hill. On the chance that the caller mixed up the names of the street, we headed off to check out that address. One of the worst things that can happen on an emergency call is when you are given the wrong address. You know somebody needs medical attention, but you don't know where they are.
It made sense that the call could have come from 1511 East Hill because it was a residential area. Too often people give the wrong address either in a state of panic or if the victim is making the call, sometimes they're disorientated. Unfortunately, that can eat up valuable time when it becomes a life or death matter. Johnny informed dispatch that we were going to check out 1511 East Hill on that suicide call.
We headed to the front door with our equipment. I pounded on the door a couple of times and called out until a man opened the door. He didn't actually seem surprised to see us, but he did seem a little put out that we were there. He informed us that nobody made a called for help from his house before rudely closing the door in our faces. There was certainly something hinky about how that man dismissed us. There was not much we could do except to grab our stuff and head back to the squad.
We had just finished putting our equipment away when the cavalry in the form of a station wagon with its horn blaring came barreling at us. It stopped to a screeching halt in front of the squad. A young woman jumped out of the passenger door, screeching at us not to go and yelling, "She's trying to kill herself."
We grabbed our equipment a second time and followed the three stampeding family members to the front door of the house. The man driving the station wagon began pounding on the front door calling out for 'Brad' to open it. Brad opened the door a crack which was enough for the three new arrivals to push their way in, with me and Johnny closely following behind. It wasn't until after a lot of sniping back and forth in the living room, them shouting over us, us shouting over them before we could get to the bottom of things.
I was finally able to piece things together: Brad's wife Beth, had called her sister, saying she was going to kill herself and had swallowed some pills. Brad claimed this was a stunt his wife had pulled in the past. It was obvious that he was pissed over the hullabaloo going on right now. Whether his wife had pulled this type of stunt in the past wasn't relevant right then. We needed to determine if she actually did go through with it this time.
"If you could show us where she is, it would settle this whole thing," I shouted.
Brad relented and pointed us in direction of the pool house. Beth's sister led the stampede and I followed behind her with the trauma and drug boxes. I could feel Charley, the driver of the station wagon, breathing down my neck as he pushed against me in his rush to get to Beth. Needless to say, as we rounded the edge of the pool, Charley ended up pushing me in. Perfect example of how family members can hinder a rescue at the detriment of a loved one that's in trouble.
I broke through the water's surface, the trauma box was floating in one direction and the drug box in another. It just amazed me how people don't think in situations like this. I was carrying the equipment that could possibly save Beth's life and Charley was trying to pass me like he's in a Formula One race, competing for a slot position.
While treading water in the pool, Beth and her green housecoat came out of the pool house, boo-hooing into the arms of her waiting family. Obviously, she wasn't at death's door. Her husband stood by and threw a disgusted look their way before stomping off back into the house. Johnny quickly made sure I was alright from my unplanned swim before he went to determine how many pills Beth took and what they were.
I swam to the edge of the pool with the drug box in tow where Johnny met me, "There's no need to hurry; she took six aspirins," he told me. I'm sure my annoyance over my impromptu swim was plain to see.
Don't get me wrong, it was a relief that Beth didn't really try to commit suicide, but a part of me was angry at her for of all the drama she caused over a dispute with her husband. We have to take all suicide calls seriously and it kind of irks me when somebody threatens suicide as a ploy for sympathy and attention. Hopefully, Beth's family will take her in for counseling because there is always the chance that she may follow through next time. That's the thing, you never really know with people like Beth. If Beth cries wolf too many times her family will become indifferent to her suicide threats like her husband. She may not actually want to kill herself, but she may attempt at some time to take something more lethal than six aspirins to prove her point.
I hoisted the drug box onto the pool edge and then swam back out to get the trauma box that had begun to sink towards the bottom of the pool. I climbed out of the pool once I retrieved the trauma box. Charley headed over in my direction with a couple of towels he must have grabbed out of the pool house.
He was a little red-faced with embarrassment as he offered an apology for pushing me into the pool. He also offered another apology for Beth getting everyone all worked up. I muttered out an "It's okay" and something about when anybody threatens to commit suicide it should be taken seriously. I reassured him that they did the right thing.
Once the water drained out of the drug and trauma boxes, we gathered the rest of our equipment and headed to the squad.
I changed into a dry uniform after we had gotten back to the station. I had decided that the best thing for Joanne and the kids would be to take the promotion. I decided I should tell Johnny my decision instead of keeping him in limbo. I owed him that much. I walked into the bay as my shoes made a slurpy sound to join Johnny, who was finishing up drying off the items in the drug box.
"You know, you still squish when you walk," was the first comment out of Johnny's mouth.
No shit, Johnny! Thanks for pointing out the obvious.
"Well, I don't have any other shoes here." I squatted down beside him, "You know, when it got right up to leaving, I was sort of thinking of us as male Florence Nightingales. It's funny how your mind works. You know, you forget how many messy things…How many messy and miserable things we get into. I'm gonna take that promotion, I guess."
"Well, engineers have their bad days, too," Johnny said as he closed the lid on the drug box.
"It balances out. Comes down on the side of money."
"Your…your mind's made up?" There was a hint of disappointment in his voice.
"I think so," I replied, as I tried to convince myself I was making the right decision for my family.
Johnny quietly walked out of the bay, leaving me alone. I think the impact that I had made the decision to take the promotion hit him a little harder than he wanted to admit. I stared a moment at the engine that took up a better part of the barn. I checked out the panel as my fingers lightly traced the gauges for a moment before climbing up into the rig. This was going to be my new driver's seat, I thought as I closed the door. I shifted around in the seat a bit, put my hands on the steering wheel, looked around the cab a bit and then out the window. A strange uneasiness hit me as I stared down at the squad.
I climbed down from the rig and headed over to the driver's side of the squad and I just stood there. I glanced back over to the engine and I thought about the extras I could give for Joanne and the kids just by accepting this promotion. I tried thinking about all the rotten situations we found ourselves in as paramedics.
How many times had we rescued someone out of a pool, technically that last run didn't count as a pool rescue, but it was one of a few that have left me soaking wet. Exposing ourselves to unknown hazards, like the Koki virus that almost claimed Johnny's life. Calls that abused our services, such as that Mrs. Stover who constantly had her husband call us over fake heart attacks. The dozens of search and rescues for kids lost in sewer tunnels, trapped in storm drains, holes and such. We were anointed regularly by mud and gunk, and frequently baptized by bodily fluids spewing forth our way. Insults and indignation thrown at us from the very public we're supposed to help. Having our honor and reputation get called into question the time Johnny and I got accused of stealing from a victim.
Then the positives began pushing their way to the top of my thoughts. The people we saved, the babies we brought into the world, and the gratefulness expressed by those we treated and helped. I had to admit, more people expressed their gratitude towards us than there have been those that had belittled us for trying to help them. How could I forget all of the funny things that have happened on the job, like the time Johnny and a pretty girl both got seasick and had their heads hanging over the side of a boat.
I opened the squad door and slid in. There was something so natural about sitting behind the wheel of that squad. I didn't feel that way a few moments ago sitting in the engine.
Could I really go through with this promotion? Was I ready to give this up? The memories of the bad started to be outweighed by the many good and rewarding times. The tones echoed through the bay followed by the dispatcher's voice. The battle going on inside me was going to have to wait.
"Station 51, Station 9, Truck 19. Structure fire, 1127 North Ninth Avenue, 1127, North Ninth Avenue, Cross street, Mead, Time out, 0450"
Heat Of The Moment Decisions
Johnny and I pulled up to the burning building with the engine parking further down from us. We grabbed out turnouts, SCBA gear, rope and other equipment as we heard Captain Stanley calling us. We jogged over to Captain Stanley, who informed us there was possibly somebody still in the building. He called in a second alarm over the HT as the security guard informed us that the last time he saw his partner was at the far end of the building.
Partner…the word resonated inside of me…partner. Engineers didn't really have partners.
Captain Stanley assured the guard we'd get his partner out safely as Johnny and I headed towards the far entrance of the building. Johnny quickly put his mask on and then his helmet as I set up the life line. He headed inside once he tied the line off at his waist. I handled the rope for a few minutes until I heard a big boom from inside. I felt the rope tighten and tugged on it, noticing it wasn't giving, and I knew it was caught on something. I called inside the building for Johnny…no answer.
I ran towards the front end of the building to get assistance, but no one was nearby. I raced back to the far entrance and quickly put my face mask on and headed in after Johnny. My partner was in trouble and I'd be damned if I was going to waste any more valuable time trying to find backup.
I made my way through the burning bits of debris as I called out Johnny's name. Still no answer. I got deeper into the building until I heard some coughing, leading me to the stairwell where I found my partner and the missing security guard nearby.
"Johnny, are you alright?" I yelled through my air mask.
"Yeah, I'm all right. In here. The ceiling gave way."
I hoisted the barely conscious security guard onto my shoulder and asked Johnny if he could manage. He assured me he could take care of himself. I headed back down the stairs the way I came in, only now it was blocked by flames and there was only one other direction to go…up.
"We can't make it this way! Let's go upstairs," I shouted to Johnny as I turned around and headed up the steps with him hobbling behind me.
I quickly carried the guard up the stairs and set him down in a chair. Johnny was still in the stair well. Knowing the guard was probably in desperate need of breathable air, I took off my air mask and had him breathe into it. I removed my air tank and adjusted the flow so he could get the oxygen he needed into his lungs, placing it in his lap before I went back for Johnny. Dammit, I thought as I headed back to the stairs, he told me he could manage.
Johnny still hadn't managed to climb all the way up the stairs, so I grabbed him and he leaned on my shoulder as I half carried him the rest of the way. I pushed the security guard into the room and closed the doors as soon as Johnny was through. He yelled through his air mask that the room was going to flash any moment. No shit, I thought as the three of us headed towards the windows at the other far end of the room. I broke one of the large windows open and by some miracle, I saw that Captain Stanley had Marco and Chet, along with some other fireman, already down below. I shouted out, "Up here!" as I cleared away the broken shards of glass from the window.
Once the ladder was set up, I helped the security guard up to the window and handed him off to Marco, who carried him down the rest of the way over his shoulder. It took a few moments for Johnny and his injured leg to get onto the ladder.
Hurry up, man! Get your scrawny ass down that ladder! I have a feeling Joanne won't find a Kentucky Fried Paramedic all that finger lickin' good.
I heard the window panes at the top of the doors explode and knew I was going to be hit by a rushing blast of fire any moment. Without thinking, I jumped head first out the window towards the ladder as I felt the heat of the fire ball on my backside giving me some extra momentum as it propelled me straight at Johnny, who was only three quarters of the way down the ladder. He grabbed my waist as I met him and we both flipped off the ladder.
I hadn't realized that my turnout was smoldering until my ass hit the hard cement. I quickly began to unbutton it while Chet beat on my turnout before helping me off with it. He asked me if I was okay and I coughed out a reply to ask me that same question in an hour. On the bright side of things, I could truly tell Joanne that I was smokin'hot – literally.
Sometimes you have to act, there is no time to think. As a paramedic, many times I have had to act on instinct. Would I be able to do so as an Engineer?
Weighing the Pros and Cons One More Time
I had to acknowledge that one motivating factor for taking the Engineer's test was Joanne's mother. She had come for a visit that lasted for two excruciatingly painful weeks about six months ago. She kept bragging about Eileen's husband Robert and how he's moving up in the investment group he's working for. Just recently Eileen and Robert had bought a new in-ground pool, so Eunice made sure I heard about that. She bragged constantly about Eileen's two boys and how well they were doing at their la-te-da private school.
Joanne's had it out with her mother a few times over me. Eunice never particularly liked me hanging out with her daughter when we were kids, but when we started dating, her hatred for me grew ten-fold. I wasn't exactly the type she had in mind for her precious daughter. At one point, she almost had Joanne married off to someone else she considered proper by the time I returned from Vietnam. She would have succeeded if Joanne hadn't figured out that her mother had manipulated the situation to convince her into believing that there was no future with me.
It wasn't until after Chris was born that Joanne and her mother had formed a truce. Eunice, naturally, has always pushed the boundaries on that. This last visit, she kept bragging about the latest success of Eileen's husband, how they had all these nice things and rubbed elbows with all the right people where they lived. Perhaps, she was one reason I took the exam. Maybe deep down a part of me thought I might garner some small approval from her. On the other hand, who the hell was I kidding, I would never be good enough in Eunice's eyes.
Money had been the one big reason for me to take the promotion. Admittedly, the house Joanne and I are living in now was more or less a starter home, and a little cramped when you added in two small kids. I'd love to have a rec room for them to play in, or for Jo and me to entertain guests in. If I made more money, we could save up for a bigger house with a nice backyard for the kids had room to play, maybe with a pool. Maybe in a neighborhood that had a nice park nearby and a good school system. The neighborhood we lived in now wasn't bad, but there just weren't a lot of other younger children around for ours to play with.
Now the other side of the argument, I loved being a paramedic and that was one big reason not to take the promotion. I was there when it all began. I helped recruit others into the program before Assembly Bill P.M. 11307 was even passed. I had no doubts that I could handle being an Engineer, but I pretty much would have to cut all my ties with the paramedic program.
There was also the possibility, when the department started losing seasoned paramedics to promotions, then perhaps they'd acknowledge that they may have to rethink some of their rules. It certainly would take more than just me leaving for that to become a problem. I knew one of the trainees in Johnny's class also took the Engineer's exam, and two in my class had already moved up within the ranks of the department.
If I took the promotion and changed my mind, then I risked getting a reputation as someone who was indecisive when it came to making decisions, not confident in my reason or logic. Not a good quality to have if I ever decided I wanted to take a leadership role in this department, such as Captain or Chief. This was a decision I would have to commit to if I decided to become an Engineer. There would be no going back to being a paramedic.
I made my final choice as I sat on the exam table as Dr. Brackett treated the burn on my arm. I suddenly realized that something inside of me was not ready to give up being a paramedic. I could always take a couple extra overtime shifts a month, that might compensate a bit for the pay difference, but I knew Joanne would want me to put a limit on it. Would waiting another year, or even two, have a tremendous impact on my family's financial future?
Dr. Brackett gave me the standard advice about keeping the dressing clean and dry and all that rigmarole. He also warned me that I might be feeling a little stiff here and there from my flying leap out the window. I slid off the exam table and followed Dr. Brackett as he signaled me over to take a look at the Johnny's x-rays. I walked over to stand beside him as he flipped the light on to illuminate the pictures of Johnny's leg.
"Leave it to Johnny to break the head off his fibula," Dr. Brackett said as he crossed his arms and shook his head in disbelief.
Sure enough, the x-ray plainly showed a definite break-line where the knobby round end of the bone had clearly broken off. The broken ends looked like they were in place. The picture sort of reminded me of a crack you might see on a porcelain cup.
"So…ahh…how do you fix something like that?" I asked as I stared at the x-ray in disbelief.
"From the looks of the x-rays, the broken piece seems to be lined up right. The Ortho doc may decide to put a screw in to secure it better. He'll need to stay off that leg as much as possible for the next few weeks, but it should heal without any problems."
I raised my eyebrow skeptically at Dr. Brackett. This was Johnny we were talking about and the words simple or routine never seemed to apply to him. Dr. Brackett gave his head another shake before he uncrossed his arms and walked out of the treatment room with me. He had just finished telling me to pop in tomorrow so he could take a look at the burn on my arm and change the dressing when Dixie walked up and informed him that another patient wanted to see him. He mentioned to me that Johnny was in Treatment Room 4 as he followed Dixie down the hall.
In the end, is money worth more than happiness?
Confirmation That You Made the Right Choice
I walked into the room and Johnny was resting comfortably in the bed. I stood there for a moment before he finally said something.
"Well, I guess you expect me to tell you how grateful I am and whatnot," he said nonchalantly.
"Whatever seems natural," I casually replied back.
"Well, I am. Grateful, I mean," he said trying to sound as if what happened at the fire was no big deal, something any other person would have done.
Okay, if he was going to act like it was no big deal, then I could downplay things myself. "Gave me a chance to get my shoes dried out," I responded, acting like wet shoes were a bigger deal than saving his skinny butt.
I hesitated for a moment, but I thought I should at least tell him my final decision before Chet picked me up in the squad. "By the way, I decided to pass up on that promotion."
"What for?" Johnny asked, somewhat surprised by my announcement.
"Well, I can always take another shot at it next year. Maybe by then, the rules will be changed and you can still get a promotion and be a paramedic," I answered. The way I figured it, with a little patience, maybe in the future I could have both.
"Hmmm. Well, that's worth another year, I guess," Johnny answered. I think that was his way of saying he's glad he doesn't have to break in a new partner.
"Besides, you're gonna need somebody to look after you," I replied as Johnny scoffed at that remark. My way of saying we're still in this together.
"Hey, Next year for sure, though, huh?" he said as I went to leave the room. I just lifted my arm up in a slight wave as an answer. I wasn't ready to say for certain I would retake the Engineer's test next year and move on.
Once the door closed behind me I could hear Johnny exclaim rather loudly, "Damn! I have to wait another year before I can drive the squad." I knew he wanted me to hear that.
It's not likely I'll be handing the keys over to you anytime soon.
I laughed as I headed up the hall. I headed towards the nursing station where Chet was talking with Dixie. I threw a nod and a smile Dixie's way. No doubt, Chet was inquiring about the little girl from this morning.
"Well as I live and breathe, one of the Keystone Paramedics has finally made it out of the break room," Chet teased as I joined him and Dixie.
"Chet was telling me about the escapades of Roy the Human Cannonball," Dixie smiled at me.
"Yeah, well I don't plan on doing an encore performance anytime soon," I joked back.
"I suppose it's time for me to take Rocket Roy back to the station," Chet stated as he waggled his eyebrows at Dixie.
I muttered out "See ya later" to Dixie as I followed Chet out to the squad.
On the way back to the station, Chet asked about Johnny and I filled him in. He was pretty relieved to find out that his pigeon was going to be okay and back to work in a few weeks. He would never admit he worried about Johnny as much as I did at times. Chet then relayed to me that Dixie let him know the little girl he saved this morning was going to be all right.
"So…ahhh, Roy, you and Joanne use those seat thingies for your kids?' Chet inquired.
"Yeah, it keeps them from becoming airborne projectiles during a car accident. It also prevents other serious injuries that small kids can get from seatbelts, too. Chris has outgrown the safety seat, but we still have to fight Jennifer to get into it," I answered.
Chet hesitated for a moment before asking, "You think the parents of that little girl would get offended if I bought them one?"
"I suppose if you explained to them how much safer it would be for their daughter to ride in one, I can't see why they should. I'm pretty sure her mother knows how close she came to losing her baby girl today."
"Yeah, ummm, I guess. Might not have even had a chance if she flew out the windshield," Chet replied.
"I think Joanne remembers the name of the store where we bought ours. You want me to give her a call when we get back to the station?" I offered.
"That'd be great, man. Think you can come with me tomorrow morning when we get off shift to pick one out?"
"Sure," I answered.
You know, Chet actually tries to hide that caring side he has behind his alias the Phantom and layers of practical jokes. Once in a while he might push a joke a tad too far, but deep down he's a pretty stand up guy and loyal to the core.
"So…uhhh…how much longer do you think you'll be working with us? Marco says within a month's time, you'll probably be moved up to Engineer," Chet asked in reference to my results on the Engineer's test. "Sorry, I forgot to congratulate you earlier."
"I'm think going to stick with being a paramedic a while longer," I answered.
"That's a relief…I mean now I don't have to pony up some bread for a your 'movin' on up' party," he said flatly before adding, "We also don't have to watch Cap pulling his hair out, trying to find somebody to put up with Gage."
I glanced over at Chet as I backed into the station and I could see the smile underneath that bushy mustache of his.
Yep, I'm sure Chet really meant to say was that he was glad I was staying instead of going.
Billy Hanks was called in to replace Johnny for the rest of the shift. He did his field training with me and Johnny a little over a year ago. He certainly is a lot more subdued than Johnny and he did turn out to be one heck of a paramedic. The rest of the shift was more or less steady until things quieted down in the later part of the evening. I think our last run was just before midnight. I do know by the time the morning tones went off and I crawled out of bed after a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, I was feeling a little stiff and sore from flying out that window. It took a little stretching and walking around to work the kinks out of my body. I certainly wasn't built for flying, that's for sure.
It wasn't much longer after my first cup of coffee that C shift began to arrive and we were released. I had called Joanne last night and told her I probably wouldn't be home until close to lunch time. Chet followed me in his van to a baby and toddler store that sold child safety seats on Sepulveda Boulevard. It was kind of nice that the other guys chipped in on the seat.
Afterwards we both headed towards Rampart. Chet was going to drop off the car seat to the little girl's mother before heading up to Pediatrics for a quick visit to the young girl. I headed off to check on Johnny to see how he made out with his hopefully minor surgery. Dixie made sure that I had Dr. Brackett check out my arm before she would reveal Johnny's whereabouts.
Was it too much for me to hope that things went routine this time around for Johnny?
I was pleasantly surprised when Dr. Brackett filled me on Johnny. So far, so good, knock on wood, everything with Johnny seemed to have gone smoothly. Maybe he was afraid I would change my mind about the promotion if he had anything less than an uneventful recovery this time. He promised to call me tomorrow to pick him up when they sprung him from Rampart penitentiary.
Not sure if it would be a wise thing to let Johnny go home to his apartment alone. I could see Johnny messing up his leg even more considering all the stairs he has to climb. I'd have to consult with Joanne and see what she thinks we should do with him. She'd have to Johnny-proof the house if he stayed with us.
I think encasing Johnny in bubble-wrap would be the ultimate in Johnny-proof technology. At the very worst, I could see him annoying the living crap out of me by popping the bubbles. On the positive side, it would provide him with endless hours of self amusement. Might also keep the kids entertained too. That would be a bonus.
Joanne didn't really say much to me over turning down the promotion. She more or less commented that she was glad I had made the decision before I came home. I wasn't really sure how to take that. Was she disappointed that I didn't take the promotion? I could understand that, I mean, we definitely could have used the extra money. She kind of frowned a little when I mentioned I could pick up a couple extra shifts a month to compensate for not taking the promotion. I knew I'd have to wait until after the kids were in bed before we really discussed things.
I puttered around the house until supper time, doing some minor fixes here and there. A little yard work, but I'd do the mowing and heavier stuff tomorrow afternoon. She fixed up the guest room for Johnny, but she forbade me from going to the hardware store to get bubble wrap and duct tape. I tried explaining to her that packing popcorn would end up creating a mess around the house. She rolled her eyes at me before sending me over to Johnny's apartment to pick up a few things.
She did make one good point, if anyone could get into perilous trouble with bubble wrap it would be Johnny.
It was getting close to bedtime for the children as I leaned back into the couch and watched them play. I could feel myself nodding off on the couch in the living room as three-year-old Jennifer chattered away at me. She was pretty fascinated by the large bandage on my arm. She must have kissed it better a dozen or so times throughout the day as she played nurse on me. It was about an hour after Joanne had ushered both kids to bed, I slowly got up from the couch and made my way to our bedroom after securing the locks around the house.
After the complaints I got over my snoring when I slept on my back at the station, I tried sleeping on my left side. Normally, I curled up against Joanne while sleeping on my right side. After much wiggling around, trying to get comfortable, I guess I finally dozed off. I was awakened by Joanne placing some kisses on my shoulder and neck when she crawled into bed beside me. She was humming Elton John's Rocket Man while she gently tried to wake me up. It wasn't until she said, "Rocket man burning out his fuse up here alone," that she finally got a reaction from me.
"You better not be insinuating what I think you are," I replied as I rolled over on to my back, straightening my injured arm above her head. "I may have to swat that adorable bottom of yours," I said as she nestled her head against my shoulder.
"Sooooo," she drawled out, "Are you happy with the decision you made?"
I let out a huge gust of air from my lungs before answering. "I'm just not ready to give up on being a paramedic. I only wish you and the kids didn't have to pay the price for that."
"If you took the promotion and weren't happy, don't you think we'd all pay a higher price for that?" she answered as she slowly began to lightly caress my arm and shoulder.
"You really mean that?" I asked as I cupped her face in my hand and tilted it upwards. "You're not disappointed that I passed up the chance to make a good chunk more in pay?"
"Nope," she replied quickly as she kissed the tip of my nose. "I know at some point you'll take a promotion when you feel it's your time to move on from being a paramedic."
I captured her lips in a deep, long exploring kiss. Her response confirmed that she wasn't upset me turning down the promotion. Her fingers began to lightly dance in my chest hair while I toyed with the top button on her pajama top.
"You know, I imagine my mother got to you during her last visit. I sort of suspected your sudden interest in studying for that test was brought on by how she carried on about Robert and how much money he makes."
"Not while we're in bed," I muttered.
Something about the mere mention of Eunice while I'm contemplating taking Joanne's clothes off just makes my manhood want to retract into my body.
Joanne noticed the sudden drop in my arousal.
"Well, just so you're fully informed, Mother is paying for that new pool Robert and Eileen are getting," she announced. "Eileen let it slip out a couple of days ago when she called."
This certainly wasn't the first time Robert and Eileen spent more than they could afford or that Eunice indulged them with some extra money or something. It would be a cold day in hell before I asked that old harpy for one red cent. Oh yes, I also have my pride. I've never relied on monetary help from my parents and most certainly not Joanne's mother. I'd rather have bamboo shoots shoved under my toenails than give Eunice the satisfaction of bailing us out if we ever got in financially over our heads.
"You know, I can always pick up an extra shift or two to make up for things a bit financially," I offered.
"Roy, I never pushed for you to take that test. That was your idea, remember?" she replied. I could tell by her tone she was starting to get frustrated with me.
"Yeah, but you agreed with me that a better paying position would make things easier financially on us," I added.
"AND I also said it was up to you what path to take in your career," she added as one of her slender fingers poked me sharply in the side.
"Sheesh, that hurt," I said as I grabbed her hand before she could jab me again. She gave a look that was a mixture of frustration and anger.
She sure looks cute when she gets that smoldering look in her eyes.
"You know what was missing when you took that Engineer's test?"
"No, what?" Okay, now she was hedging at something.
"Passion."
"I had no passion? You can't mean that, Joanne. I put a lot of time in studying for that thing, and how can you say that when I spent hours on end studying?" I replied back.
I knew I was missing the point when she rolled her eyes. "Don't you remember when you first got involved with the paramedic program? You were all fired up and passionate over it. You were so enthusiastic over the whole thing. You put your heart and soul into it."
Now it hit me what she was getting at. To a certain degree I let Eunice's comments on us 'living in squalor' spur me into taking the Engineer's test more or less over what the benefits of making more money would mean for Joanne and the kids. It wasn't because I was driven to be an Engineer. Maybe, when I first joined the fire department I had dreams of handling a big engine, but as soon as I was approached about participating in the paramedic program it was almost like a new door opened up. I remembered joining because I believed it would make a difference and it would save lives. Today, many heart attack cases would have perished without immediate treatment? Many critically ill or injured people never would have made it alive to the hospital?
"Yeah, you're right. I practically had to convince myself to study for the exam. I never had to convince myself of anything when I decided to join the paramedics." I pulled her closer to me and whispered, "You're one hell of a smart dame."
"Don't you ever forget it, bub," she replied back as she pulled my head down for a kiss.
"Yeah, I guess I was a little slow on the uptake there, wasn't I?"
"Uh-huh, but I think now you know the real reason why you shouldn't have taken the Engineer's job," she said as she while drawing figures on my chest.
I could feel my libido rising again as she started to place little kisses onto my chest, with the occasional little bite here and there. My girl sure knows how to light a fuse.
"Hey, you want me to demonstrate you how fast I can remove a smoldering turnout coat?" I murmured as I quickly undid the four buttons on her pajama top and slid it off of her. I pulled her close up against me, enjoying her soft skin against mine as we began to exchange ravenous kisses between each other.
"Hey, is that a rocket in your pocket, mister, or are you just happy to see me?" she teased as she began pulling at the drawstring of my pajama bottoms.
"Mmmm," I replied as I began kissing her again, "That's my heat guided love missile and you just set off its launch sequence."
Oh yeah, Prepare to blast off baby…zoom, zoom, zoom we're going to the moon.
Authors Notes:
The first child car seat was introduced in 1921 and it pretty much was a sack with drawstrings attached to the seat (baby in a bag). The first true safety seat was invented by Jean Ames of England in 1962. Swedish auto designers during the sixties came up with the rear facing design safety seats. Child safety seats were available for sale in the mid-sixties but commercially they were a failure. Tennessee was the first state to make child safety seats mandatory in 1978.
Elton John's Rocket Man (I Think It's Going To Be A Long, Long Time) 1972 is the property of the respective authors, artists and labels. No copyright infringement intended.