Most people don't have the opportunity to get close and comfy with their local emergency system, let alone get on a first name basis, but Jed and I are unique in that way. Since we've been in Colorado we've had the EMTs called three times; once for altitude sickness, once for anxiety, and kicker, for getting run into (while in the wheel chair no less) by a little old lady in a 2001 Lincoln. Enough is enough. But the emergency system here is amazing! One little phone call and here comes the fire truck followed by an ambulance and two or three police.
The first time was a little scary. Jed was at therapy (the second day in Colorado) and he just started to pass out. They immediately called in the big guns and there in the little therapy room were 6-8 very good looking young men in tight uniforms. (oops, I'm getting off track.) The second time was here at home. Jed started believing he couldn't breathe and the longer we worked on it the worse it got, so we called our emergency friends. They all entered our bedroom and left 3 young grandsons with gaping mouths and wide eyes. After some assurance that all was well, the boys got a tour of the fire truck.
But the little old lady in the Red Lincoln was just over the top. We'd just come from acupuncture and were waiting at the intersection by a popular Starbucks for the traffic to clear. I was walking, Jed in his wheelchair. When, like a flash of dragon blood, BAM!!!!! I screamed, the police on their break at Starbucks ran to the moment, Jed a bit dazed, me flaming fire. As it would be our little old lady was watching the same traffic and waiting for it to clear. When she saw an opening, she gunned it and whoa, oops, forgot about the wheelchair in front of her. So, we got to hang out with our friendly paramedics once again. By this time they were apologizing for meeting like this and I was telling them that we were looking for friends anyway, so not to worry. After 45 minutes at 8 emergency people later we determined that Jed was okay.
But the real topper came a few days later. Kai, our third grader, was telling the family that he liked his old school better than his new one. After some grandmotherly questioning the truth came out. "This school has way too many old ladies." Gavin, the 5 year old, looked at him sympathetically and said, "It's okay, Kai, Old Ladies are just a part of our world."
Yes, indeed, old ladies are a part of our world. But watch out for ones driving red Lincolns.