Jump-starting Ambulances.

First off, if I were to write a song, I would make sure it honed the title of this blog. Don't ask why, it's just a thought that came to mind. Sounds kinda...indie-ish...the kinda title Snow Patrol or The Fray would use...anyhoo, away from my mindless digressions.

It was a very Red Cross filled weekend this past Saturday and Sunday. Saturday was focused on Gordonstoun during the day, when Christine, Caitlind, Judith and myself covered round of hockey and rugby matches. Watching the hockey game put me slightly in mind of the film St Trinians (for those of you who haven't seen it, it involves a hockey game played by posh people gone mad - can you see the resemblance now?)
Hockey was, putting it mildly, boring.
And cold. Very cold.
Judith and me were left to cover two matches, which oddly enough lasted longer than the four matches observed by Christine and Caitlind further up the drive way in the top field. I'd love to know why; where's the logic to that?
Anyway, only two casualties (one per pair): Judith and me dealt with a bruised knee and grazed elbow, whereas the other pair handled a hockey-stick-in-the-face-type injury. It wasn't as bad as it sounds; no blood 'n' guts tale to tell this time.
After lunch came the rugby match, which was far more entertaining. Not the sport, no, no. Rather it was the fact that the four of us were able to cram into the front seats of Red Echo 8, the said vehicle being our ambulance which, when not modelled in ambo form, is effectively a renault van which are commonly seen here and there. So think of the front cabin of a renault-style van and contemplate the space and leg room. Not much really, when you want to squeeze in four people.
But we did it, and there we sat, listening to MFR and sending in requests for songs from "the Red Cross Crew," and of course we observed the antics of the rugby game too.
It was really good fun on reflection, and at least it was a lot warmer in there. Caitlind was so warm in fact that her side of the ambo kept steaming up, to which she commented, "I'm just hot stuff."
It's a reasonable enough explanation I guess!
So we left the Gordonstoun grounds, with Judith and me now in the back of the ambo where we belonged, and waved goodbye to the toffs of the school. To be precise, the two of us actually surfed out of Gordonstoun, because we attempted to stand in the ambo as Christine sped over speed bumps and down the drive way. I don't know how paramedics manage to stand up in an ambulance thats firing down the road - which is effectively a traffic slalem - at high speeds. It's definitelty a skill.
The ironic thing is that it was only when we were sitting down that I was thrown from my seat when Christine broke hard on a downhill slope. What's even more brilliant is that I was filming at the time, and caught it all on camera. Yup, I have the ability to laugh at myself falling off a chair.

Back at the office, one bumpy ride later, we prepared ourself for the next duty of the day; the Forres Firework Display. Christine was away to cover the fireworks at Port Gordon...I think...and went to start Red Echo 2 when......nothing happened.
Red Echo 2 was dead.
For some reason, the battery had become flat, most likely due to the fact that someone had forgotten to turn off the radio or interior light, and over almost two weeks Red Echo 2 had gradually drained its battery life to zero.
Consequently, it needed to be jump started.
So we fetched "the Bucket," or Red Echo 6, and hauled out the jump cables, and wired the two vehicles together. Christine turned the Bucket on and...still no glory.
By this point I had dondered outside to check on the progress of reviving our beloved Thuderbird, and Christine suddenly decided to make use of me.
"Go press the Bucket's accelerator!" She cried.
So, hopping into the front seat of the rickety old ambo, I did, and after a bit of pumping on the pedal.....there was still nothing.
In the end, I got fed up with the feeble pumping of the accelerator, and with one large push on the pedal, the engine revved loudly and Red Echo 2 chugged into life.
Yes, I thought, I've jump started an ambulance!
It's nae something you get to do everyday, so I was pretty chuffed over it. Small things, I hear you say, small things. But for me, it was cool :)

The fireworks at Forres was a nice easy duty to end the day's line of events, with no casualties (a part from Caitlind who cut her thumb when trying to break the plastic seal on a bottle of distilled water using blunt scissors) and a fireworks display to wrap it up nicely. An added perk was getting a chippie supper fae the Boss, so thanks to him for buying it. I'll give him the cash for it one day, I'm sure.
Another bumpy ambo ride home and the duties were done for the day. We even got dropped off at home, so when Red Echo 8 pulled up at the end of my street and I emerged from the back of it, I got a weird look from a neighbour who was standing outside puffing on a fag. God knows what he thought; maybe he was stupid enough to believe that ambulances now give people lifts home, rather than take casualties to hospital. It's the sort of look I got anyway.