Taxi or truck?

While I was waiting for my friends outside a restaurant this evening, I was doing a bit of 'people watching'. I like imagining where people are going and where they're from. It makes waiting around a bit more interesting, if nothing else!

Anyway, I couldn't help but notice a dishevelled looking man aged about 75 stumbling between the bollards in the pedestrian zone. I knew a fall was going to be inevitable, but I didn't want to intervene unnecessarily, so I kept a close eye on him, poised to react if I needed to. He did fall, and as soon as he did I ran over to help. I see it as my duty as a member of the ambulance service to assist if someone is injured, but I was glad that another member of the public came over too. Together we made sure he wasn't badly injured, and we helped him into a chair provided by the restaurant owners. I asked him if he wanted an ambulance and he said no, just a taxi home. He told me he had the money to pay, and told me where he lived, so I booked a cab for him. He didn't completely make sense, because his speech was slurred. I could smell alcohol on his breath, so I put it down to that.

It wasn't until later in the evening that I started having doubts - should I have called an ambulance? After all, the man had taken a tumble, and didn't seem completely compos mentis. There was the slurred speech, of course, so he could have just been drunk - I'm not intending to stereotype him, but he gave me that impression. When I called the cab, it took about 15 minutes to arrive and the whole time the poor guy was mumbling that he wanted to get back home. So he obviously wanted to go home, but I'm not sure if I should maybe have called the cavalry to check him out and make sure he was definitely OK. After all, who can really say why he was stumbling? It could have been alcohol, but it could have been more sinister.

Someone put my mind at rest! Did I do right to call him a taxi, or would 999 have been more appropriate? All opinions welcome.

Professional distance

It's a well known fact that emergency services personnell tend to maintain a professional distance from their patients, in order to carry out their job without becoming emotionally involved. Certainly, if I were to allow myself to think too deeply about some of the calls I deal with, I would certainly not be able to cope.

However, I never thought I would keep this barrier up when I was off-duty. I'm not saying I'm heartless and don't allow myself to care, but I received some shocking news about one of my closest friends, Jack, yesterday, and I didn't react. My other friends were devastated, crying and talking about it constantly. I, on the other hand, dealt with the news calmly and got on with my evening. I'm not sure if it's because I haven't physically seen Jack to confirm that yes, he is seriously ill, or just that I can't let my guard down. But either way, I don't seem to be able to allow myself to cry. Instead of talking about my friend it's almost like I'm referring to a patient. I'm not seeing Jack, I'm seeing his illness and the symptoms.

In a way, it's good that I know I have developed this ability to distance myself from distressing situations. But in another, more personal way, I seem to have lost the ability to care about my loved ones.