VIDEO: Rescue ride-along – journo nearly loses control of bodily functions
Prayed like never before.
I fancy myself as an adrenaline junkie and to this day brag about the fact that I have been shot at – twice.
But there is a but.
About two weeks ago Quick Response Services (QRS) invited me and a colleague, Michelle Swart, to ride along in one of their rescue vehicles. This sounded like an awesome adventure and so the day arrived yesterday (8 November). I imagined action, blood and gore but over the first cigarette and coffee with my colleagues at about 8am, a cold realisation dawned on me – although I was hoping for action, action in a rescue vehicle would mean speed and I am a terrible passenger because of my fear of speed. It is not so much my fear of speed but rather the fact that I am not in control when I am a passenger. I tried to quell my growing fear by telling my colleagues, unconvincingly, that I doubted anything will happen since in the six years I’ve been with the Record I have never heard of ambulances or rescue vehicles being in accidents.
And then the moment arrived. At exactly noon, co-owner of QRS, Denver Ramnarain fetched me and Michelle at the Caxton offices. I was ready … well, sort of. My bag was packed. I had water, my cigarettes, pen, notebook and my camera, and made sure I went to the loo ahead of time as I did not know what to expect. Denver is an extremely good-natured guy and as he was relating the interesting facts about his industry while we were driving around, I soon forgot about my non-need for speed.
We met up with one of his ambulances at a garage on 14th Avenue and had more great conversations with two of his medics – Tebogo Mojapelo and Sphephelo Dlamini, two young guys who despite the serious nature of their work are really funny.
Also Read: New ambulances to rescue Roodepoort
The ride-along was supposed to end at 3pm, but by 2pm we had yet to see some action. There was only an hour left, so Denver offered to take all five of us to have a bite to eat at another garage on Jim Fouché Road, where there is seating. At the garage, Denver had just paid for our cold drinks when a call came through. There was an accident on Christiaan de Wet Road. As we ran to the rescue vehicle and ambulance I realised that this was it.
We sped off, at first at a speed that was decent enough but as vehicles from a security company started closing off streets for us, Denver put his foot down and the suburban streets and corners became a racetrack. I hung on to the handle above the door and at every turn and bend I was convinced that Denver was going to roll the car. As everything became a blur I thought, “This is going to be how it all ends for me”. I didn’t want to open my mouth for fear that a scream would escape. But then it happened. In the light of our earlier discussion on the heavyweight medication they are allowed to administer I blurted out:
“You should have given me some of the tranquillisers!”. This embarrassing moment for ‘Mr Hardcore’ was of course caught on camera by Michelle.
Although it felt like I was doing the 24-hour Le Mans, the trip could not have taken longer than three minutes. I was never so relieved to be in a stationary vehicle than when we stopped at the accident scene.
Would I do it again?
Definitely.
PS: Although the accident was serious, the young driver was lucky enough to escape with no injuries. He allegedly had a blackout and drove his bakkie down the steep embankment on the last bend, heading towards Clearwater Mall.
(Look out for a full feature on the life of a paramedic in next week’s print edition.)
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