My personal encounter with paramedics
occurred the day I fell (ironically during my morning health walk) and broke my
leg. I might have lain there for some time because pedestrians in my
middle-class neighborhood pay little attention to the occasional bearded old man
lounging on the sidewalk. Luckily, I had taken a detour through an alley behind
a restaurant where two Hispanic workers noticed and came to my aid.
I was not in great pain as long as
the leg remained immobile. Any movement hurt terribly. When the paramedics
approached with their gurney, I was frightened, but they scooped me up, drove
to a hospital, and shifted me to another gurney with hardly a twinge. Never
mind their medical skills; that showed talent.
While I admire paramedics, they have
little use for me in my capacity as a hotel doctor. Paramedics almost never
encounter a physician on their calls, and they don’t like it when they do. Most
likely, they worry he might pull rank. As a result, when paramedics arrive at
my hotels, I sit quietly, never speaking unless spoken to. In turn, they go
about their business, pretending I’m not there.
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