By Andrew Hyde, MS, NREMT
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‘Twas the night before Christmas, when out in the bay
The truck check had truly been done on that day.
The monitor hung from the seatbelt with care
and gloves, meds and blankets were stocked and prepared.
That shift had gone by without even one call,
so per superstition, tonight we’d be mauled.
But uniformed medic, and I in my boots,
we settled down anyway, tried for a snooze.
When out from the speaker the tones made a clatter
I stumbled from bed for a “Uncoded” matter.
Away to the unit I bumbled and crashed
“Responding”, I aired and made cheery lights flash.
And lurching from bed with himself fully clothed,
my medic arrived half-asleep and said “go”.
But all I could do was just sit there and stare:
a blue stocking cap had consumed all his hair.
Some stubble had prickled itself on his face,
and into the passenger seat he climbed dazed.
Another command came more forcibly now:
“Wake up, release the break and go”
That jarred me enough, into darkness we rode;
with me in my boots and my medic in tow.
“Now zofran, now dextrose, now narcan and shocks!
“On O2, on IVs, on four-points and chalks!”
He shouted these things then he fell fast asleep.
In my consternation, I made not a peep.
On scene at location, a lonely road fork,
were folks on the blacktop, their plates read “New York”.
Three figures were huddled on knees on the shoulder,
a fourth lay between them on ground getting colder.
“Help us! Please Help! I don’t think he’s breathing!”
Were jumbled up words quite convicted and feeling.
I reached for the jump-kit and moved towards the group,
but floods from our unit fast stay’d me en route.
For out of the cab only then he appeared:
the EMS Santa in all of his gear.
With bristling scruff and reflective coat lit,
the stocking cap bellowed: “the heck is this bit?!”
“Oh Santa, we’re sorry, we drank too much cheer;
and then we ran over a tiny reindeer”.
We stood there in silence, we had no rebuff
for the three Upstate drunks and their dead 5-point buck.
“Right. Back in the rig”, said Dear Santa with bile,
“and call for PD, they’ve got charges to file”.
“But Christmas!” said one man, the second agreed.
The woman unsteadily rose from her knees:
“Why won’t you help us?” Her voice loud and slurred,
“You’re dressed up as Santa but act like St. Jerk!”
Dear Santa ignored her, we staged out of sight:
“Merry Christmas,” he muttered, “and go straight to jail.”
About the author
Andrew Hyde worked for 12 years on transporting 911 and fire service units in Colorado and Pennsylvania. He is currently a part-time EMS mentor and instructor while attending medical school. His goal is to become an EMS medical director.