Oh my God.
I'm excited. Monday will bring a new chapter in the RC family life; the Boss is getting interviewed because two lil munchkins might have let slip to a certain forthcoming awards ceremony that our most wonderful Service Manager is worthy of a bit of recognition.
*ahem* the Daily Record "Our Heroes 2009" Awards *ahem*
I was going to wait a little bit longer before blogging anything about it, but to be honest I just couldn't wait.
We've nominated him for the Our Heroes Caring Category, or whatever it is that it's called, because we think he certainly is one of thee most caring people we have ever met.
So Monday brings a film crew to the RC office to document some of his most brilliant work and hear from other members of the gang about just how admired he really is.
He told Caitlind and me earlier to wear our boiler suits for the occasion - showing off a bit of the old RC flashy fashion! Nothing like a spot of promotion when you can grab the chance.
But my only problem is - if I have to say something about him for the film, then how the hell am I gonna fit into words the sheer admiration and appreciation I feel for this most amazing man; the most amazing man I've ever had the privilege to meet, befriend, work alongside and call dad.
Friday, 24 April 2009
Thursday, 23 April 2009
One Day We Dance, the Next, we Need an Ambulance.
Moto X varies greatly, as I am sure, if anyone has read my previous Moto X posts, people have come to realise.
Here is an example:
Saturday 11th April - the Moto X Scottish Enduro Championships. A very big competition, and as quiet as a morning in bed (obviously apart from the background soundtrack of motorbike engines).
I think the only thing we dealt with casualty-wise was a suspected broken toe, which ended up being diagnosed as dislocated.
So what did Judith, Caitlind, Christine and my good self do all day?
We played music through the stereo of Red Echo 2, which has a rather impressive bass boost system. People enjoyed it so much we came to be known as the day's entertainment. In fact, we may have had to turn the volume up slightly on one or two occassions, such was the need for our music factor.
Of course, such awesome pop-tacular music tracks just invited folk to come up and dance, and this is exactly what Christine and I decided to do. And Caitlind, when Christine finally managed to wrestle her to the make-shift dance floor.
We danced the day's dullness away, oh yaas!
But on the other end of the scale...
Sunday 19th April - the second championship races on that boiling hot day brought a broken finger, a bashed hand, a suspected spinal and sore head, and a crushed foot. Of course, the most severe case was the suspected spinal - a younger lad who was clearly frightened and in a lot of pain. So we applied a collar, slid him onto a spinal board, strapped him in, and I dialled for an ambulance. Again.
The paramedic team were great; they were with us in no time and had whisked the boy away to hospital almost as soon as they had arrived. Plus they were really kindly with the lad, who by now must have been pretty worried what with all the precautionary straps and restraints on
him.
And in between all the casualty drama, the Boss popped by to say hello, riding in style on his own amazing Dragstar motorbike which put all the other muddy dirtbikes to shame.
I think the most complex part of that day however, was trying to get our bloody spinal board back from the Ambo crew who took it.
Amy and me walked into A&E and spoke with the very nice receptionist who had only just come on shift, and clearly had no clue what was happening just yet. We told her about the incident, and about the ambo crew consequently stealing our board. She went to have a look - no where.
"Go ask the paramedic crew at the ambulance base."
So we went, with Yvonne following us in RE2. We rang the door bell, and after a while one of the crew members who had attended our call, answered the door.
"We don't have it here, it'll be up at A&E."
"We've tried that, but no joy."
"Well, go and pester the receptionist again."
*big sigh*
Amy and me returned to A&E and as we walked in, the side doors suddenly opened. There, at the far end of the corridor, leaning against the wall and minding its own business, was our spinal board, complete with collar.
"Should we ask if we can take it?" Amy queried, looking nervously down the corridor.
I thought for a moment, but then the notion took hold.
"Nah, let's just grab it."
So we nipped down the corridor, checked the board for our logo - which it had - then swiped it and escaped out of A&E without another word.
Jeeso, usually you just nip in and grab it from reception, but clearly Amy and me have that not-so-simple effect, hehe.
Anyhoo, now you see the sheer difference between moto x events. That's why we love 'em so.
Here is an example:
Saturday 11th April - the Moto X Scottish Enduro Championships. A very big competition, and as quiet as a morning in bed (obviously apart from the background soundtrack of motorbike engines).
I think the only thing we dealt with casualty-wise was a suspected broken toe, which ended up being diagnosed as dislocated.
So what did Judith, Caitlind, Christine and my good self do all day?
We played music through the stereo of Red Echo 2, which has a rather impressive bass boost system. People enjoyed it so much we came to be known as the day's entertainment. In fact, we may have had to turn the volume up slightly on one or two occassions, such was the need for our music factor.
Of course, such awesome pop-tacular music tracks just invited folk to come up and dance, and this is exactly what Christine and I decided to do. And Caitlind, when Christine finally managed to wrestle her to the make-shift dance floor.
We danced the day's dullness away, oh yaas!
But on the other end of the scale...
Sunday 19th April - the second championship races on that boiling hot day brought a broken finger, a bashed hand, a suspected spinal and sore head, and a crushed foot. Of course, the most severe case was the suspected spinal - a younger lad who was clearly frightened and in a lot of pain. So we applied a collar, slid him onto a spinal board, strapped him in, and I dialled for an ambulance. Again.
The paramedic team were great; they were with us in no time and had whisked the boy away to hospital almost as soon as they had arrived. Plus they were really kindly with the lad, who by now must have been pretty worried what with all the precautionary straps and restraints on
him.
And in between all the casualty drama, the Boss popped by to say hello, riding in style on his own amazing Dragstar motorbike which put all the other muddy dirtbikes to shame.
I think the most complex part of that day however, was trying to get our bloody spinal board back from the Ambo crew who took it.
Amy and me walked into A&E and spoke with the very nice receptionist who had only just come on shift, and clearly had no clue what was happening just yet. We told her about the incident, and about the ambo crew consequently stealing our board. She went to have a look - no where.
"Go ask the paramedic crew at the ambulance base."
So we went, with Yvonne following us in RE2. We rang the door bell, and after a while one of the crew members who had attended our call, answered the door.
"We don't have it here, it'll be up at A&E."
"We've tried that, but no joy."
"Well, go and pester the receptionist again."
*big sigh*
Amy and me returned to A&E and as we walked in, the side doors suddenly opened. There, at the far end of the corridor, leaning against the wall and minding its own business, was our spinal board, complete with collar.
"Should we ask if we can take it?" Amy queried, looking nervously down the corridor.
I thought for a moment, but then the notion took hold.
"Nah, let's just grab it."
So we nipped down the corridor, checked the board for our logo - which it had - then swiped it and escaped out of A&E without another word.
Jeeso, usually you just nip in and grab it from reception, but clearly Amy and me have that not-so-simple effect, hehe.
Anyhoo, now you see the sheer difference between moto x events. That's why we love 'em so.
Wednesday, 8 April 2009
Operation Flipper is a-go!
Return to Carbisdale... Sounds like a movie title =P
But we did return to the gloomy castle of Sutherland, and for an even bigger exercise which I feel is worthy of a title that defines it as a bigger & better sequel to the original ER adventure. Sounds exciting, doesn't it?
However, someone decided the Search and Rescue exercise actually befitted the title "Operation Flipper." I think it had something to do with the Swift Water Rescue input, and for this reason the big boss Ian waltzed around with flippers on the Saturday morning to illustrate the pun.
But titles aside, it was a Search & Rescue operation with a difference. It involved more than 100 RC volunteers taking on a variety of roles, members of the Coast Guard team, the police with their S&R dog, input from fire fighter personnel, helicopters and skywatch search planes, and a number of people from the press, including P&J journalists and a reporter fae STV. Not to mention all the Red Cross ER vehicles from each of the RC groups, stretching from the Inverness area right through to Aberdeenshire. We even had the giant Unimog up from London, just to complete the ensemble.
It was almost a hectic experience. People were rushing about all over the place; in the upper hall folk were trying to organise Logistics, the Comms base, casualty groups, and outside vehicles were being loaded with gear and being allocated drivers. The hubbub throughout the castle was immense. There was certainly some kind of energy zipping about between people; a live wire of adrenaline which everyone was sharing.
On the earlier hours of Saturday morning myself and the younger members of the team mingled with school kid volunteers from local Dornoch Academy, and were shuffled into a number of groups, with an allocated leader, and thrown out into minibuses to be transported to the wilderness of Sutherland, where the hills rolled far and the Glens ran deep. Sounds nice, and once we were cast out amongst the heather and rivers beneath blue skies and sunshine, it was picturesque and pleasant. But as my little group of five walked further out through the valleys, winding our way down tracks and purposefully getting ourselves more and more lost, the optimism about the weather began to fade. The sun would disappear for spells of snow and wind, then reappear again. It proved the unpredictability of weather out in the hill and mountain ranges.
Still, at least we weren't stuck in fast-flowing rivers, swollen with snow-melt, unlike some unfortunate Swiftie volunteers...
Anyway, eventually we found ourselves far from where we began, which was a sheltered, snug wee bothie on the hillside; easy to find and where the majority of the casualties were hiding. Instead, we had discovered a gully which offered some protection from the wind and a fine place to hide from our rescuers; our intentions were to make life difficult for the teams who came to find us.
So we sat, and we waited, and we endured the heavy snow falls, the showers of hail, the icy wind which whipped through the gully and churned up the cold waters of the river which flowed beside us. Our entertainment was a "riveting" game of eye-spy, until that died out. Then it was joke telling, or thinking of songs to sing, or musing about what the rescue teams were actually doing out there, and wondering how everyone else was getting on. We snacked on our packed lunches, and laughed over what technical injuries we could have to stump our rescuers.
One hour passed.
Then two.
The boss said the majority of casualties would be found by three o'clock.
Three hours.
That's 3 o'clock.
Four hours.
A rescue plane flies over head. Our leader sets off a flare, and the plane flies low, tipping its wings to acknowledge our signal. Thank God - we're gonna be rescued!
Four hours and 45 minutes...
...By this time my friend Judith was starting to grow seriously colder - despite her eight layers - and her blisters were beginning to sting with the damp and cold. The other two girls from Dornoch Academy were huddled beneath a make-shift tent, and were becoming worryingly cold.
As for me, well, my 11 layers were keeping me very snug, and our leader clearly wasn't having any issues either. But the snow, wind and wet had taken its toll on all of us. We contacted Comms and told them our predicament; we were to start walking back through the Glens and rescue ourselves.
Fifteen minutes later we're met half way through a valley by two friendly and familiar faces; our own boss Steve and Ronnie. Friendly, familiar, and weary faces.
Close behind them and their quad is a 4x4, and finally a ride back to the bothie is organised for us.
Back at the bothie, five hours later from when we first made camp in the gully, we're back on a mini bus and taken 'home' to the castle, for warm tea, dry clothes, and food.
Such was the Saturday. But don't get me wrong; although we weren't rescued, the exercise as a whole was a great success. I know this sounds a bit... well, incomplete... but at the end of the day, people gained experience and learnt new skills - skills which could be worked on and sharpened, so that in the event of a real incident, things could run like clockwork. This was made evident on Sunday's exercise; welcome in the S&R dogs...
But we did return to the gloomy castle of Sutherland, and for an even bigger exercise which I feel is worthy of a title that defines it as a bigger & better sequel to the original ER adventure. Sounds exciting, doesn't it?
However, someone decided the Search and Rescue exercise actually befitted the title "Operation Flipper." I think it had something to do with the Swift Water Rescue input, and for this reason the big boss Ian waltzed around with flippers on the Saturday morning to illustrate the pun.
But titles aside, it was a Search & Rescue operation with a difference. It involved more than 100 RC volunteers taking on a variety of roles, members of the Coast Guard team, the police with their S&R dog, input from fire fighter personnel, helicopters and skywatch search planes, and a number of people from the press, including P&J journalists and a reporter fae STV. Not to mention all the Red Cross ER vehicles from each of the RC groups, stretching from the Inverness area right through to Aberdeenshire. We even had the giant Unimog up from London, just to complete the ensemble.
It was almost a hectic experience. People were rushing about all over the place; in the upper hall folk were trying to organise Logistics, the Comms base, casualty groups, and outside vehicles were being loaded with gear and being allocated drivers. The hubbub throughout the castle was immense. There was certainly some kind of energy zipping about between people; a live wire of adrenaline which everyone was sharing.
On the earlier hours of Saturday morning myself and the younger members of the team mingled with school kid volunteers from local Dornoch Academy, and were shuffled into a number of groups, with an allocated leader, and thrown out into minibuses to be transported to the wilderness of Sutherland, where the hills rolled far and the Glens ran deep. Sounds nice, and once we were cast out amongst the heather and rivers beneath blue skies and sunshine, it was picturesque and pleasant. But as my little group of five walked further out through the valleys, winding our way down tracks and purposefully getting ourselves more and more lost, the optimism about the weather began to fade. The sun would disappear for spells of snow and wind, then reappear again. It proved the unpredictability of weather out in the hill and mountain ranges.
Still, at least we weren't stuck in fast-flowing rivers, swollen with snow-melt, unlike some unfortunate Swiftie volunteers...
Anyway, eventually we found ourselves far from where we began, which was a sheltered, snug wee bothie on the hillside; easy to find and where the majority of the casualties were hiding. Instead, we had discovered a gully which offered some protection from the wind and a fine place to hide from our rescuers; our intentions were to make life difficult for the teams who came to find us.
So we sat, and we waited, and we endured the heavy snow falls, the showers of hail, the icy wind which whipped through the gully and churned up the cold waters of the river which flowed beside us. Our entertainment was a "riveting" game of eye-spy, until that died out. Then it was joke telling, or thinking of songs to sing, or musing about what the rescue teams were actually doing out there, and wondering how everyone else was getting on. We snacked on our packed lunches, and laughed over what technical injuries we could have to stump our rescuers.
One hour passed.
Then two.
The boss said the majority of casualties would be found by three o'clock.
Three hours.
That's 3 o'clock.
Four hours.
A rescue plane flies over head. Our leader sets off a flare, and the plane flies low, tipping its wings to acknowledge our signal. Thank God - we're gonna be rescued!
Four hours and 45 minutes...
...By this time my friend Judith was starting to grow seriously colder - despite her eight layers - and her blisters were beginning to sting with the damp and cold. The other two girls from Dornoch Academy were huddled beneath a make-shift tent, and were becoming worryingly cold.
As for me, well, my 11 layers were keeping me very snug, and our leader clearly wasn't having any issues either. But the snow, wind and wet had taken its toll on all of us. We contacted Comms and told them our predicament; we were to start walking back through the Glens and rescue ourselves.
Fifteen minutes later we're met half way through a valley by two friendly and familiar faces; our own boss Steve and Ronnie. Friendly, familiar, and weary faces.
Close behind them and their quad is a 4x4, and finally a ride back to the bothie is organised for us.
Back at the bothie, five hours later from when we first made camp in the gully, we're back on a mini bus and taken 'home' to the castle, for warm tea, dry clothes, and food.
Such was the Saturday. But don't get me wrong; although we weren't rescued, the exercise as a whole was a great success. I know this sounds a bit... well, incomplete... but at the end of the day, people gained experience and learnt new skills - skills which could be worked on and sharpened, so that in the event of a real incident, things could run like clockwork. This was made evident on Sunday's exercise; welcome in the S&R dogs...
The second exercise of the weekend was smaller, with a greater emphasis on the swifties - they traversed up the loch and sailed the incoming tidal waves, much to the delight of the STV camera crew who got some pretty good footage (see below).
Meanwhile, far away from the valley's water, hidden deep in the woods on the far side of Carbisdale Castle, sat myself, wee Nicole, and our leader Dick. We had hiked a good distance to reach a far off point in Sutherland's woods, and now we sat awaiting rescue, keeping our eyes peeled for the first aid team. Time dragged a little, but after watching distant skywatch planes dart across the loch, and listening to Nicole's ace supply of music on her iPhone, the first aid team was spotted. And just as we though we were about to get rescued... Nicole's mum phoned.
Now, she phoned with a plan.
A small team of police had arrived with their newly trained S&R dog, and wanted to be a part of the operation. Mine and Nicole's orders were the following; to lose ourselves deeper in the woods and lie still - don't make a sound. When the police arrive, wait for the dog to find us. Simple as.
So, we ran - ran through the undergrowth and dived (Action Man style in Nicole's case) beneath the branches of a tree in a small thicket. And there we waited, playing hide 'n' seek with the occasional skywatch plane which flew overhead. I even turned my hi-vis jacket inside-out to avoid standing out like a sore thumb. It was too late though, I think.
After a while, we heard the arrival of our S&R team, and suddenly the shout of a burly office echoed through the woods; "Stay still and no harm will come to you!"
"Oh God..." we thought, as worry flickered across our faces and we let out a nervous giggle.
Suddenly a huge black Alsatian appeared over the heather and sniffed us out as quickly as he had come. After standing on Nicole, and slobbering on me (typical) it sat down quite happily and triumphantly barked out its discovery. Then a police officer arrived, and before we knew it, so did the first aid team.
Such was our Sunday afternoon; lying in heather and pine needles, playing hide 'n' seek with not only planes, but police dogs too. We even did it again several times, to give the dog some practice. I've gotta say, that scenario was way better than the previous day's excursion.
So, I suppose with my account complete, I guess it's best to let STV sum it up for me.
*Note - I do not own any of this footage, I was just sad enough to video it off the internet one evening when I found it. Copy right STV*
Enjoy:
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