Holding Out. For a Hero.

For 5 years I volunteered as a firefighter/EMT here in the very rural part of Washington State where I live. The problem with me as a first responder was that I had no business attending to those in need. When I first started volunteering as a FF/EMT, I firmly believed laughter to be the best medicine.

I soon learned this not to be the case.

One night there was an overturned van on a very dangerous curve of road that we refer to as Rispin’s Hill. Most of our accidents occur here. I recognized the van as one that transported a local girl to her school, one for individuals with learning disabilities. Lovely girl, mid-twenties, pretty smile.

As we pulled alongside the overturned vehicle, the Assistant Chief said, ‘Rogers, you take care of the patient,’ which made sense seeing as how I was the only EMT. The driver had already exited the vehicle and seemed fine, so I peered in through the back of the van and saw Emma, crouched on the roof, holding her knees to her chest and, thankfully, with no apparent signs of trauma. The driver told me they had both been wearing their seatbelts.

‘Okay,’ I thought to myself, ‘She’s fine. You just need to keep her calm. Why don’t you tell her a few jokes.’

This, of course, is what I always do in times of disaster. Tell jokes.

I don’t know why.

Because in my entire life.

It.

Has.

Never.

Worked.

So I crawled in through the back, and for some reason had removed the jacket of my bunker gear. I promptly cut myself. I looked down at the blood. I looked up at Emma. I made a joke about how now we both needed a doctor.

She started screaming.

“Rogers!” shouted the Assistant Chief. “What the hell are you doing in there?!”

“Uh, nothing…uh, patient care (or something). Let me work damn it, I’m a doctor!” I winked at Emma, sure that she would get the Bones reference from Star Trek.

She didn’t.

She started screaming again.

“No, wait, wait, I’m just kidding! I know I’m not funny! I just want you to relax! Don’t worry! You’ll be fine! I think!”

So on and on it went like this.

Poor Emma. It was only after my recent trip to Vegas that I really put myself in her shoes. Imagine, if you will, that you are trapped in a burning building. When things look their bleakest, a lone hero emerges through the smoke.

It’s Carrot Top.

And before he hands you the ladder, he wants to try out some of his new material.

See if that doesn’t make you start screaming.

Just see.