SECOND CHILDHOOD?

I wonder if any of us really “grow up”. I found myself being childish (or being “like a child”? There’s a difference) last week in a rather dire situation. I had been taken ill suddenly with what seemed to be a heart attack. The neighbors who were in the group, gathered around, chatting and working on a jigsaw puzzle, became rather agitated when I came in and almost fell into a chair.

I asked them, as it became harder and harder to breathe and I became more and more faint, to call 911 for me, that it seemed a heart attack and I needed help. After all the fright and confusion, everyone talking at once giving directions, the ambulance finally came. It seemed we were waiting forever, but, in actuality, I’m told, it was just five minutes.

I don’t remember much about being “loaded”, just that the EMTs were very kind and very efficient. They were in constant communication with the hospital and
before we set off, I got oxygen which was an immediate relief, aspirin, (orange flavored which was nice as I had to chew three or four of them) an IV, took blood pressure and temperature, asked what seemed like 100 questions and I can’t remember what else.

The young man finally said to the driver, “OK, Dave, let’s roll” and I had to smile inwardly as the young MT sounded like someone from House, the TV show.. We went down the long drive to Route 9, slowly and quietly until we came to the stop light where Dave hesitated for just a moment, then hit the siren and we were off.

Now I would suppose that a woman my age (76 now) would have been startled and a little frightened by the use of the siren. It certainly was a signal that all was not well and that the patient was in a bad way and was being rushed to the ER as quickly as possible. Perhaps so, but I wasn’t frightened. I was delighted, excited as a child, that I was in an ambulance and the SIREN WAS GOING! Now, I’m not mentally challenged, in fact considered by some as an educated, intelligent woman, but I admit to a quirky sense of humor.

Thanks to the good and immediate care both in the ambulance, then in the ER, and by the wonderful nurses in the Cardiac/Telemetry Unit, I was able to go home the next day. I had not had a heart attack, only a scary cardiac situation that was soon controlled.

I was kindly welcomed home, was not allowed to carry even my purse and cautioned by my sweet friends to be careful on the stairs. I felt rather like a fraud, but had to accept as much help as seemed reasonable. They were so dear and so eager to help. They were all finally persuaded that I, responding with quiet gratitude, was able to sit down and turn on the TV myself.


Thinking back, I know the event was serious and was told I could have died. However, fear was not in my heart, just the childish delight I felt riding in an ambulance with the SIREN on.