Green Eyes.
Blue pants, white shirt, black shoes, red hair, and those green eyes. That was my third rider the other day.
She sat smiling in the back, in the Captain's chair, waiting, hoping, for our ambulance number to be called. It was her day off, and although she had better things to do, she wanted to spend ten hours in the back of an ambulance hoping to see what she had only heard of.
Seatbelt secured around her waist, she turned the chair forward and scrunched down so she could look out the front window as we screamed down the city streets. Her elbows on her knees, and her hands framing her smiling face, she sat in the back with anticipation. Her eyes blinked as they darted left, then right, while she took in the urban sprawl flying at her at 60 mph.
We arrived on scene. I talked in code on the radio and she repeated in the background. She unbuckled and crouched in the back as she opened the heavy side door. We both stepped out and met one another as we approached the curb. Her green eyes watching my every step.
She followed us in and carefully placed herself next to the door, per my instructions. "If anything goes wrong," I said, "Go to the ambulance and lock the doors."
"Who should I call?" she asked.
"911," I said seriously.
Like someone from another country she took in every detail. She looked at the house, the patient, the art on the wall, the television, and the dirty faces of the children running from room to room. She listened to every sound, smelled every smell, and emotionally attached herself to the misery presenting in front of us.
In the back of the ambulance she sat quietly, like a fly on the wall. Watching me and wondering what the patient was thinking. Occasionally, I would tell her what I thought was going on, not that she already didn't know, and she would smile at me and blink her emerald green eyes.
For ten hours we hustled around the city responding to 911 calls. What was, more often than not, miserable to me was exciting and fascinating to her. She had the excitement and wonderment that I once had. She had all the feelings that I so desperately wanted to return to me.
She saw the tragedy of everyday life. And with those green eyes reminded me that what I'm doing isn't futile. That I can still believe in things how I once did. I can believe, although as difficult as it sometimes may be, that I am actually making a difference and helping people.
Those green eyes turned my blue soul upside down.
She sat smiling in the back, in the Captain's chair, waiting, hoping, for our ambulance number to be called. It was her day off, and although she had better things to do, she wanted to spend ten hours in the back of an ambulance hoping to see what she had only heard of.
Seatbelt secured around her waist, she turned the chair forward and scrunched down so she could look out the front window as we screamed down the city streets. Her elbows on her knees, and her hands framing her smiling face, she sat in the back with anticipation. Her eyes blinked as they darted left, then right, while she took in the urban sprawl flying at her at 60 mph.
We arrived on scene. I talked in code on the radio and she repeated in the background. She unbuckled and crouched in the back as she opened the heavy side door. We both stepped out and met one another as we approached the curb. Her green eyes watching my every step.
She followed us in and carefully placed herself next to the door, per my instructions. "If anything goes wrong," I said, "Go to the ambulance and lock the doors."
"Who should I call?" she asked.
"911," I said seriously.
Like someone from another country she took in every detail. She looked at the house, the patient, the art on the wall, the television, and the dirty faces of the children running from room to room. She listened to every sound, smelled every smell, and emotionally attached herself to the misery presenting in front of us.
In the back of the ambulance she sat quietly, like a fly on the wall. Watching me and wondering what the patient was thinking. Occasionally, I would tell her what I thought was going on, not that she already didn't know, and she would smile at me and blink her emerald green eyes.
For ten hours we hustled around the city responding to 911 calls. What was, more often than not, miserable to me was exciting and fascinating to her. She had the excitement and wonderment that I once had. She had all the feelings that I so desperately wanted to return to me.
She saw the tragedy of everyday life. And with those green eyes reminded me that what I'm doing isn't futile. That I can still believe in things how I once did. I can believe, although as difficult as it sometimes may be, that I am actually making a difference and helping people.
Those green eyes turned my blue soul upside down.
Comments
Regards,
Frogger
get her name & number (phone number) and give her a call
That last line? It turned MY soul upside down.