Shortly after I turned 21 in 1970, a college friend went to work at the local ambulance service. I remember thinking, “What would Rick know about saving people’s lives”? Enid Ambulance service provided all the ambulance work for three hospitals and a handful of mortuaries. It was staffed by firefighters on their days off and college students from Phillips U. One day after a conversation with Rick about his ambulance work, I casually asked, “Are they hiring”? “Actually Mark, one of the fireman is retiring next week and the owner asked me to look around for his replacement”. Well, I went down and talked to the owner and a day later I had my own jump suit.
It’s a scary thought now but our training was basic first aid and make it up as you go along. We did practice things like CPR and putting on air splints, and how to lift patients on and off the gurney. So much of the work involved assessing the situation, making quick decisions and transporting. I probably have 50 stories that cover everything from deep sadness to profound joy. I did a lot of growing up in those two years.
Imagine yourself in the depths of REM sleep. The phone attached to a, mechanical bell starts ringing at 2:37am. In just a few seconds you are listening to someone on the other end in deep distress trying to ask for help. Your number one task is to get three things: a description of what is happening, an accurate address and phone number. Remember, this is before caller ID, cell phones or GPS. The next move was to hop into your ‘jump suit’ and then call the answering service to give them the information. I remember the surreal feeling of saying to myself, “This is real, this is not a dream”. You would then take off with lights and siren blazing. The next moment you were in a stranger’s home where someone was lying on the floor. It could be a heart attack, gun shot or overdose to name a few. The job was to get them on the gurney, and safely in the ambulance. We would take turns driving or attending to the patient.
Off to one of the three hospitals. The answering service connected with us on a two—way radio. They would call ahead to which ever ER we were headed. We knew each of the night crews well, and they were there to meet us as we delivered the patient. Our work was done. We would wait to retrieve our gurney, where we would clean it up, put clean sheets on it and return home. Some nights it was constant and we would bring in a second crew.
In those two years I delivered two babies and helped with five others. I had my hands and heart in the middle of human pain, brokenness, suffering and healing. I had the privilege of having a mom of a four year old girl come to see me a month or so after her near death, to tell me “I want you to know that the two of you saved my daughter’s life. I can’t thank you enough”. Ironically, that daughter would be 55 now, and I very much remember her name—Amy. I would be the father of my own Amy three years later.
I decided to spare you scenes of tragic sadness. I had to remember that what I was experiencing every day did not happen to some people in their lifetime. I will say it was one of the best jobs I ever had. It prepared me for the reality that life is full of both tragedy and grace, sometimes in the same hour.
Onward and Upward,
Mark
Lyfting Me Up 