It really is usually far nuttier on Thanksgiving, but the gods smiled upon us this year.
One call, at 1820, for a syncope patient. That's it. And the patient was a perfectly wonderful person, having a good chuckle over this. We liked our patient, and our patient liked us. That is usually not the case with holiday calls.
Even 65 had an easy night. They were called out when we were enroute to the hospital for a 19-year-old choking (worry not, I believed all turned out well) and then around 2100 for someone at Greystone - better them than us. I've been to Greystone far too often this year... that is not my side of town and let's face it, no one wants to go to the scary old mental patient facility. Granted the facility we usually go to is modern and well-kept, but it is still freaky. A little bit.
After that, silence reigned - except 69 (the Hevy Rescue guys) had a board up to go to.
Happy Thanksgiving indeed!