A Pile of Dog Bones

“In each of us two natures are at war… the good and the evil. All our lives the fight goes on between them, but one of them must conquer. In our own hands lies the power to choose. What we want most to be we are.” – Dr. Henry Jekyll

Saturday, February 10, 2007

Why I Get Up In The Morning

I'm feeling alot better this morning as compared to yesterday... but that really just means I'm feeling blah instead of aaarrrrgggghhhh. I'm actually swallowing the nuke pill this morning because I moved my appointment since my shifts got all screwy... so maybe I won't be feeling blah for much longer.

So how did I spend my night you might be wondering? Well working of course... but this being Friday night/Saturday morning, I actually worked on a truck. My normal partner KC was out sick... so I ended up working with The Steff and The Donkey. She drove, and I made him sit in the back... for a few reasons but mostly because, shit, I didn't want to spend the night in the back with nothing to see.

I love driving around and seeing stuff. I'm such a people watcher. I find it WAY too interesting... but that's a different story. This story is about Bobby. A little background though... now while most people think a motor vehicle accident is a motor vehicle accident, we have classifications. There's the MVA property only (no need for us), the MVA with injuries (most likely All-State-Itis but occasionally a truely hurt person), the MVA roll over (where your wheels are most likely not on the asphalt where they belong), the MVA with entrapment (doors don't open and the occupants are trapped in the vehicle... likelihood of injury is high), and finally the MVA pin job (where part of your car has been physically pushed against you and effectively "pinning" you in the car).

So at around 2:00am the pin job came over on the Long Island Expressway. I was looking for blood... and here was my chance. The Steff weaved us to where the job was supposed to be in under 2 minutes. There was a Sanitation truck right where the accident was supposed to be. We got out and while looking at the front end of a car wedged underneath the truck, the driver told us that the accident was actually behind us. Of course, we were about half a mile ahead so we had to flip around. While doing so, we came neck to neck with one of the other units. The fucking race was on... and they were sucking her diesel fumes. I was proud. Really, I was.

When we pulled up, there were two cars into the middle divider. One had a smashed front end... and one was missing its front end. Bingo. Fire Suppression had already dropped a flare pattern, so The Steff tossed us into the safe zone ahead of the accident and we walked back. The first car we came to, the one with the front end, was unoccupied. The second car we came to, the one without the front end, was also unoccupied... but there was an elderly man standing next to it.

This was Bobby. He was the driver who miraculously was not pinned in the vehicle. 911 calls rarely come over right anyway... so this wasn't too surprising. After a brief conversation about aches, pains, and complaints (I won't bore you with the dialogue) it was agreed upon that he would go to the hospital. We immobilized him, rapid takedown style, and got him over to the ambulance. He had a minor cut on his hand which I bandaged, we vitalized him, and proceeded to go through the assessment.

I'm not going to bore you with all the details... but here's the bottom line... he was driving home from work when he got rear-ended and pushed into the truck. Most likely by a drunk driver or a street racer. He had very little wrong with him historically, a little high blood pressure and some diabetes that was diet controlled.

Here's where I found him HIGHLY interesting. He works for a tabloid newspaper here in the City. Most of you have probably heard of it, it is a Daily and it spreads the News. He has worked there for... 43 (forty-three) years. Yes. Forty-Three years. I asked him if he loved what he did... since I found it astonishing that he would work for them for that long. His reply, "I love the people who benefit from what I do. That's enough." I was pretty wowed by that statement. Normally someone either loves their job or considers it the method of putting food on the table. Never do they say they do it because they love someone else.

He really was an interesting guy. We had more conversation... he's a Yankee fan, has a son who lives in Westchester, has a wife of over 35 years, and likes to go fishing. His attitude, considering he was wrapped in a collar and strapped to a hard ass plastic board, was really pretty great all things considered... but it was that statement that made me really think.

In truth there are a lot of people who benefit from what I do. Those are the people that matter. Not the people who see fit to criticize how I do it. Its true... I'm pretty unorthodox in my methods and with each day more people consider me to be outdated and perhaps antiquated... but that's okay. The job needs to get done or people suffer. I get the job done. I make it happen.

No one can tell me otherwise and have it be true.

Tomorrow... a special Smorgashboard Sunday... it'll be a glow in the dark edition as I radiate gamma rays all Hulk style and shit.
Posted by New York City's Watchdog :: 2/10/2007 05:35:00 AM :: :: 3 Bones Added to the Pile

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