Ambulance Crew Quotes

Dios, she'd never come so hard in her life. How many people died this way? How would he ever explain to the ambulance crews that he'd chained his girlfriend out on the deck and killed her with too many orgasms?

[American ambulance crews] salvaged people we'd never see in Missing, because no one would have tied to bring them to a hospital. Judging someone to be beyond help never crossed the minds of police, firemen, or doctors here.

The ambulance crews brought the victims to us before the tires on the wreck stopped spinning. They salvaged people we’d never see in Missing, because no one would have tried to bring them to a hospital. Judging someone to be beyond help never crossed the minds of police, firemen, or doctors here. A

The TV crews had gotten there before the ambulances.

They sit together on the bedside and Parvaneh caresses the thin locks of hair on Ove’s head until the ambulance crew gets there and, with tender and gentle words and movements, explains that they have to take the body away. Then she leans forward and whispers, “Give my love to Sonja and thank her for the loan,” into his ear. Then she takes the big envelope from the bedside table on which is written, in longhand, “To Parvaneh,” and goes back down the stairs.

Meanwhile, I was kind of detached, despite the terrible pain. I was watching all the drama unfold. Later they told me I was in shock, but I remember enjoying the ride to the hospital because I never thought I’d ride in an ambulance with the sirens wailing. It was one of those things I had always wanted to do when I was growing up. When we got there, they told me there were news crews outside, so I asked for my glove. There’s a famous shot of me waving from the stretcher with my glove on.

You can’t possibly be thinking of sending him home! He can barely walk.” Meg’s smile began to slip. Ambulance crews were queuing almost out the door, and all this lad needed was a stat dose of Man-the-Fuck-Up.

From the gravel road, they all strained to see the old sycamore, but after a few seconds of focusing it was apparent there was a man hanging from it. Calvin told them everything he knew. The deputies decided it was best to proceed as if a crime had been committed, and they prohibited the ambulance crew from approaching the scene.

Doctors often try to get family members to come in if they think the patient will die, because seeing a trauma team desperately trying to save their loved one is enormously comforting later on. That is particularly true for parents. Barbara told Kohler that the ambulance crew had said Covid restrictions would keep her from going inside the building, but he overrode that. “I wouldn’t drive a hundred miles an hour,” he said to Barbara, “but if it were my wife, I would go as fast as I could.

What happens when the general public looks at any schizophrenic, any shell-shocked homeless vet, any kid with impulse control problems, anyone whose particular variety of strange they don’t get, and sees anomaly? And what happens when we tell them we don’t know what the anomaly is, or how to reverse the effects? And that, given the available knowledge and resources they may not be able to do anything about it except shoot the host down like a rabid dog?” “I understand that-“ “Good. Now picture it. Then imagine how many ambulance crews, knowing these things, would think twice before they stepped in to help a victim, for fear it might be a monster in disguise.

Spending the day of August 17 in Khuza’a was like peering through a window to Hell. But what we witnessed in the landscape of apocalyptic oblivion paled in comparison to the experience described to me by two Palestinian Red Crescent volunteers who had attempted to break through the Israeli military cordon during the siege of the town. Twenty-five-year-old Ahmed Awad and twenty-four-year-old Ala’a Alkusofi arrived at the edge of Khuz’a at a time when ICRC ambulance crews refused to travel anywhere near the town. They said they had come to collect the body of a man whom soldiers had lashed to a tree by both arms and shot in the leg. When they arrived at the site, the soldiers ordered the driver of their ambulance, Mohammed Abadla, to exit the vehicle. When he obliged, they told him to walk five meters forward and switch on a flashlight. As soon as he flicked the light on, the soldiers shot him in the chest and killed him.

The Bad Halloween: A Crazies Night Chronicle by Stewart Stafford I'm Rich—ambulance medic on Crazies Night, Demented chariot driver in the mediverse, Skeleton crew for swarms of ailing impostors, Our dashboard crucifix, buffeting every curse. Jittery, side-burned Jeff riding shotgun, I tease his grumbling about missing fun: "A toast with your Pumpkin Spice Latte! Breakfast on me when our shift is done." Behind us, a female living portrait groaned— Drunk or high, headfirst, she kissed the road. Mona Lisa frame unmounted for treatment, delirious spoilers dropped for The Da Vinci Code! Death's Reaper stood daring us in our path; graveyard shift, centre line, gleaming scythe. Brakes jammed, sirens blared, the prank waned— This gothic vigilante traffic cop waved us by! We dropped Patient Moaner at the hospital, Jeff smoked, and I ate canteen Colcannon, Our "bat signal" crackled, flashed in the cab: "Cosplay brawl at the Hotel Shannon." We drove off for more Boo-Boo Bus Bedlam to hit our Gotham's streets and tend the injured. Catherine wheel jack-o-lantern through windscreen; The Pumpkin Bomber’s cackle went unheard. Ears temporarily-deafened, thumbs up given; Faces, hands, arms burned—scarred medics. Flying glass cuts on our cheeks and necks: Carers now mummified patients: sideline critics. The first cracks of dawn chase shadows away; A Grand Grimoire yielding to Grey's Anatomy, Our carriage—the repair yard's hollow gourd, All-Saints sunrise feast to shed All Hallows' agony. On the Lord of Death's night, we didn't die: Weary defiance met coffee and pumpkin pie. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.