Paramedic Figures: A Narrative Fiction

"Julie you be quiet now. we don't want you to be caught ok?" addie whispered

Hearing the sound of a pager going off in the distance. Seeing a person running through the halls, jumping into an ambulance, and taking off with lights and sirens blaring loudly. The thought of helping others and changing lives intrigues me. A path of becoming a paramedic has been carved out for me. I plan on following this career path, after I finish high school in May of 2017.Graduating from MOC-Floyd Valley High school is only the beginning of a lifelong career. There is no other college that I can think of that has this program and the instructors to teach it. Consequently, it is close enough to home and yet far enough away, so I can experience the college life.

“Okay. Okay. I'm about ten minutes from home. I'm on the way there now. Have you talked to Lester?”

When she woke up the next day, there was a piece of paper on her pillow. It had a phone number on it and a name, Walter Hamasaki. So, she called the number and someone answered. “Hello, this is Walter Hamasaki. Sorry I am busy at the moment please leave your name and number, and I’ll try to get back to you as soon as possible,” beep.

I make a turn around the building to see Lisa on the floor looking unconscious. I’m freaking out running as fast as I can. Lisa, Lisa can you hear me? I slid on the ground towards her and check her pulse. 1, 2,3 it beats against my fingers. TODDDDD, CRAIGGGGG Lisa’s bleeding a lot! Oh wait look, the bullet hit her arm. Craig go get the car quickly “on it,” he replies. I slowly lift her up and drag her to the car. Step on the Gas Craig!

A paramedic saved my life when I was nine. I lived in Charlottesville, Virginia; The place of my birth. It wasn’t the best day, I had gotten into an argument with my birthfather. He was threatening to hurt my little brother, and I couldn’t let that happen. So I attacked him with all of my strength. As you can imagine, a nine year old is not very strong. I came out bruised and bloody, with a painful burn on my leg from a cigarette. However, I had accomplished my goal, my brother was safe. My lip and nose were bleeding, and I remember feeling disoriented. I managed to get myself to the kitchen, that’s where the phone was. I hesitated, because it was against the rules to use the phone, but my teacher at school

“What you did was terrible, and you will pay for it,” Stephanie said to the criminal. “That’s not what I asked for sweetheart, so now I’m going to have to shut you up.” She tried to scream, but was soon beat for her attempt. The man placed tape over Stephanie’s mouth, and she began to dread what her fate may be. It was though she no longer had a voice. While the man was going through Stephanie’s bag, she managed to stand up. Consequently, she realized her mistake when he had a gun pointed towards her head. “This is it, this is where it ends,” Stephanie thought to herself. Looking through the gun barrels made her rethink everything she had done in her

Tallulah and I were at the fuel airport. It was the littlest airport. It was night so it was hard to see there. We are going to go pick up orphans from Africa. We are flying over the Atlantic ocean. “Talulah are you ready to go,” Lizzie said. “Let's go Lizzie.” Said Talulah. We are 30 min away. 30 min went by. We are landing. And the kids are waiting for us at the airport. I said to Talulah, “are you ready to get the kids.” “Yes”, said Talulah. We get the kids on the plane. We want back of the plane and asks for the kids names. Most of them did not talk. Bet there was these two girls that answered me one was Linda and the other was Koko. So we want back up to the front of the plane. And I said to Talulah “ready for taking off.” “Ready”, said

A. Each week in America, paramedics arrive on the scene of an accident where the victim has crossed the barrier between life and death. There is no heartbeat. Breathing has stopped. All the vital signs of life are absent. But the paramedics do not accept this death as final. They begin CPR; perhaps inject a drug that stimulates the heart. For a few frantic moments, nothing happens. Then, the victim begins to cough, taking a few ragged breaths, and the heart begins to beat, pulsing life through the body. And instead of sending a corpse to the morgue, the ambulance takes a patient to the hospital. Was the victim dead? Without getting too theological or technical, we would have to answer, yes. If not for the expert care of the paramedics, the

At Folsom Women’s Facility, inmate STARLA RADMACHER (24), mediates and talks to “Helen.” She’s in prison for vehicular manslaughter and for driving under the influence. She’s startled when she’s dragged away in the middle of the night and locked into a room alone. FBI AGENT BARRET

When I was four paramedics saved my life. When I was six my mommy was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. Hospitals were not out of the norm to our family. By that time, I understood how vitally important medical practice is to our lives.

I slowly open my eyes and I am terrified. Where am I? How did I get here? I can hear many loud booms which I presume to be the constant shelling of my brothers-in-arms. I see syrettes, saws and lots of black rats lying dead with unearthly expressions of anguish on their grotesque faces. There is fresh blood on the floor next to me, a bitter metallic smell penetrating my nose. I close my eyes for a second to regain my composure and when I open them fragments of information start coming back to me.

“I am going to cut you off there. No one did this to me I tripped and fell on to the edge of the trashcan I started bleeding. I was on my way here when I guess I passed out.” She looked down at me frowning. No she looked like she felt bad I could tell she was suspicious, but I did not care I got up said “ Thank you for the help,” and walked out the door. As I got out onto the street I started to think about how much I hated this. It hurt so much. It had months since he had gone home even mildly happy. Everyday he was tormented by Dickey for being himself. For not being like everybody else. For being straight.

“No, get away from me! You’re crazy why did you hurt me?!” She yelled at him as tears kept falling from her cheeks.

“Ok, just be careful,” she said nervous still. “I don’t want to lose you over some crazy people.”