Hope

The complex of buildings appears to have been built some time between when asbestos was the latest in safety and avocado green was the heigh...

Back On The Road

My last post on here, some nine months ago, reads now as both a warning and a reminder. I was warning myself, not aware enough at the time ...

Perhaps It's Just Me

"Is it really possible to have a career in EMS and be emotionally unaffected by the things we see?" This is the question I posed o...

Behind Closed Doors

Midnight. The normally quiet residential street is a hive of activity, as busy and bustling as a midday marketplace. People have gathered fr...

War and EMS

This is a post I have written, deleted and rewritten several times. It is a risky post, as it has the potential to delve into political wran...

Trust

There are several posts, in fact dozens of them, sitting in the drafts folder, waiting to see the light of day. At times, I sit at the keybo...

Honour

There is no honour in a so-called "honour killing."  These horrendous pieces of news reach our eyes and ears all too often, stream...

Evidence

She's wearing a long black coat, fake fur around the collar, like she's wearing a fox for a necklace. And although the sun has alrea...

The Best

As we march quickly into the resuscitation room, wading through the sea of people currently waiting for their turn in triage, one face looks...

Sounds of Life

We arrive at the hospital gates mere seconds apart. Two ambulances with lights flashing, Sirens trailing off as we pull up At the kerb. They...

Mood Swings

The gesture is so unexpected, coming from someone clearly suffering as much as Leah is. Lying in her makeshift bed as she has been for two d...

Birthdays

Five o'clock in the morning and for the first time all night, we finally arrive back on station. Within seconds, before the engine has h...

Thoughts on a Difficult Week

Each Friday, I post a poem, a rhyme, some silliness, to my family and friends on Facebook. Each week I look back, think of the events we hav...

Angels

Some days I feel like the Angel of Death's right hand man. It's almost as if he's sitting on my shoulder, bidding me to do his w...

Footprints

Bright red footprints, like they'd been painted in a playground, appeared on the steps that we were hurriedly climbing. Not every step, ...

An Insomniac's Guide to the Theatre

If I had to sum up the last week, it can be done in just one word. A word that I have repeated so many times over these past few days, that ...

Unwritten Rules

The first clue was the fact that the apartment was on the fourth floor. It's the internationally recognised, first unwritten rule of amb...