It feels like it’s an everyday occurrence any more. That’s kind of sad. Medical emergencies are usually not happy.
My dad had an accident when I was in my early 20’s and was taken to the shock trauma unit via a life flight helicopter. It was scary. No one in the family could go on the flight with him. There I was, driving in down town Baltimore to a hospital I had never been to before, at night, scared to death that my dad wouldn’t make it.
I remember the ambulance arriving at the house, the EMTs examining my dad and calling for the copter because he had hit his head very hard. There was excitement in the neighborhood when the helicopter landed in the school yard across the street. Everyone was out of their houses, milling around even though it was after midnight, most likely asking each other what was going on. Things like that just didn’t happen in our neighborhood.
I remembered the EMTs giving me hurried directions to the hospital and me hardly being able to follow them. I know we got lost getting there. Once there, it took a while to find out where my dad was and what was happening. It was such a long night.
These are the things I think about when I watch that helicopter land. I don’t really think about the patient being transported. MCV is an excellent hospital and I know they will get the best care possible.
I think about the families and what they are going through. I think about them arriving at the hospital in a panic and the hours of waiting they probably will have to endure. I think about the endless days and weeks, possibly years, that their lives will be affected because of some medical emergency bad enough to need life flight.
Then, I thank God for the EMTs, helicopter crew, doctors and nurses that saved my dad’s life.