Yes, you heard that right.
On my way back to UKZN today from taking the maid to the flat, I came across an overturned truck on the offramp to Essex Terrace. Like the rest of the cars, I could have pulled off and gone on to the next offramp and doubled back, but instead I pulled over, and with the deft coolness of an early 1980's Don Johnson, I said to the guy on the phone "you're going to have to call me back, I've got to save lives..." - well, not really, but something to that effect.
Sorted the guys out - three of them - with various injuries. One seemed to have his pride hurt more than anything else, because he'd just wiped out a brand new NDM truck, and also almost killed one of his passengers. I made sure they were all comfortable, told the frantic ladies present to help (bless them, the un-medical people), and then announced I was a first-aider, and they promptly vanished (which wasn't what I wanted, but they seemed to have faith in my skills).
The skid marks told a tale. From the fast lane, about 45 degrees straight onto the offramp, and then obviously the dude tried to counter-steer to the right to compensate for this stupid last-minute careen into the offramp, and then plop, the truck fell over onto its left side. That guy is probably in a lot of trouble.
The one guy was heavily in shock, so I lay him down, stopped the intake of fluids, inspected his spine for injuries (he was the guy not strapped in), and then made him comfortable. The fat dude had minor bruising but nothing major, and the driver had an injured arm and a bleeding pride. After ten minutes the paramedics were on the scene, so I departed. As I walked away, I could hear the paramedics (all eight of them) whispering to each other in awe "who is that guy? is he from around here? how did he manage to lift the truck like that? why are all those bunny rabbits hopping after him? and can anyone else hear the EYE OF THE TIGER music?"...
It's all about the mystery. Oh yeah.
PS) I need new surgical gloves now.
Nice job. As I commented before, get the longer gloves, less blood on your arms.
ReplyDelete... and hey, the fat guy was nicely insulated. Bah to comments about managing your middle ;).
P.S. Don't you mean stopped the outflow of fluids? Or was he drinking a beer when you got there and you told him to stop? :)