Oh, The Irony

I took a shift today to cover for a friend, and thinking I would boost my call numbers for January, having missed the first two weeks of riding. Especially since I was supposed to ride the full 12 hour shifts the first two weeks in January.

Ironically, there were no calls to make up for... turns out the Thursday night crew had no calls the first two weeks in January. Not so much the first weekend shift - that was 2 and 3 January - we ran three calls in the darkness of night; one in the late morning on Sunday. But nothing happened the 7th and 14th. So today we took three calls - or was it four? and I boosted my numbers - by those three or four calls that I could have lived without.

Although one person actually signed a TRO - a nice change. I can't tell you the number of abuse calls where no one will give the perp up. SIGN IT! This is to save you from having another individual do this AGAIN! So I would have to say that this was satisfying.

Having one sign off and one cancellation was rather nice, too.

Four calls. That's right. And the back-up crew took one. I suppose the bigger irony is that 65 had no crew until 1530 so we took two of their calls. Well, at least I may have logged double digits for this month. Let me think... four calls the first weekend, one each the last two Thursday shifts (including three call sheets for the four-hour fire last Thursday) and four calls today.

Oooohhh, that means I logged a whopping 11 calls! No, 12. Wow. It's not as good as last May and August, when I logged 22 calls, but for me this is good! Yahoo.

Before you criticise, EMTs live for this. We go through all kinds of training to save people's lives, and while we don't log nearly that many life-threatening calls, we log calls - something - and we do something for the community. You can't beat that. It's a good feeling, too. (Unless it is a domestic and the person doesn't file a TRO... then it is just frustrating as all get out.)

Well, I have a weekend shift on Valentine's weekend. That should be an active weekend... Groan...

Oh, look. It's 1811... I'm done!

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