“MAGIC CARPET RIDE”
I have always been a staunch supporter of the fire departments and emergency response teams in my area. I have written many times in this column about the unenviable job they have chosen, especially when it comes to navigating our streets around the throngs of drivers who haven’t got a clue what to do when they hear a siren.
That said, just as not all drivers are bad, although it would be hard to come to that conclusion driving in the San Gabriel Valley, sadly not all paramedics are good.
I came to this epiphany as I was being prepared for transport from San Gabriel Valley Medical Center to Arcadia Methodist Hospital. Just a reminder to those of you who missed Part 1, and shame on you for that and you know who you are, I was in the midst of having a heart attack. I was also at SGVMC because I didn’t want to go to Arcadia Methodist. I also didn’t want to go on a ride with the paramedics. But here I was and there I was about to go.
My first clue as to the subpar abilities of my ambulance crew was apparent once they tried to put me on the gurney from my ER bed. It was obvious that it was going to be such a major production for them, that I finally said “Look, I’ll just slide over onto it”, which I did. I didn’t want to die waiting for them to get me out of one hospital on the way to the next.
Once at the mouth of my emergency vehicle things once again came to a halt. I was getting the drift that I was not in the hands of the “A” team here. There were more questions being asked by more than one of this crew and all the answers seemed to be coming from the same guy. It finally struck me, in my heavily morphined state, that three quarters of this four man crew were trainees. Oh Goody, could this night get any better?
After the last volley of questions were answered I waved goodbye to my wife and the back doors were secured and my little shuttle appeared to be ready for takeoff. As I watched and listened to the conversation going back and forth between the occupants I began to stress out even more.
My chest started tightening again even worse than before. I truly believe it was due to the fact that my little flight crew here wasn’t giving me the warm and fuzzies as far as their abilities were concerned. Only one guy seemed to have any answers and he didn’t seem to be giving them up very quickly or clearly.
Once on our way I expected this to be one quick little trip. Having grown up in this valley I could drive from where we were to Arcadia Methodist with my eyes closed. Unfortunately the ambulance driver could not. As we drove, I could see where we were going in reverse as there were large windows in the rear.
As the man with all the answers prepared to give me my third shot of morphine I started to recognize where they were driving. I asked “Are you guys driving up Rosemead Boulevard?”
“Gee I don’t know” the man answered.
He in turn asked the driver the same question and before his answer could come I said “Yeah you are and as a matter of fact you should be coming up on Huntington Drive right about now.”
The driver then answers “Yes we are on Rosemead”.
This response came just as I watched the Trader Joes sign pass by me in reverse. For those of you not familiar with this area Trader Joes is at the corner of Rosemead and Huntington Drive. Again, for those of you not familiar with the area this is where the ambulance should have made a right turn in order to get to Arcadia Methodist.
“You do know you were supposed to turn right on Huntington?”
“Oh no we are going to take a faster route”
“Oh really? Like what?”
“We are heading for the 210 freeway. It’s much faster!”
“I don’t want to be a back gurney driver, but you guys do know that there is major construction on Rosemead Boulevard North of Huntington?”
At this moment all conversation stopped for a moment and the siren on the ambulance was turned on. The third shot of morphine was quickly administered, the driver hit the gas and the oxygen mask was quickly slapped on. Personally, I think this was a ploy to get me to shut the hell up, but that morphine really jumps right on top of you so I can only speculate.
The man with all the answers moved up closer to the driver where I couldn’t make out what was being said. He quickly came back to my side and said “He has another route in mind” at which point the ambulance made a quick right turn.
I looked out the back and said “He’s going down Colorado Boulevard?”
“Yep”
“Then he’s going to take that over to Colorado Street and come around the back of the Hospital?”
“Yep”
“Well that beats the freeway by a few minutes, but it is still taking the long way around the horn”
As we pulled up to the hospital my wife was there and had been there for a good ten minutes. I should have gone with her. At least she knew how to get there. As they pushed me through the back door of the emergency room at Arcadia Methodist I thought of one thing.
If I make it through this and they try sending me a $1,000.00 bill for this trip I am going to go buy them a GPS and send them that instead. It may help save the next rider’s life.
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