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On a lighter note, here's a list of all the amusing things people said to us at Bumbershoot. We didn't really need to leave the first-aid tent to be entertained. When we did leave to get patients or walk around we found out why being out on patrol was called being a RAT (Rapid Assistance-or, alternately-Run Around Team), because boy did we get to run through the sewers of Bumbershoot-well, okay-crowded walkways and smelly back entrances lined with garbage bins. Besides treating injuries, we found ourselves asked for advice, directions or anything free, and the subject of people's attempts to be witty. Here is my attempt to immortalize the inane side of the stand-by:
Are you here incase someone gets hurt or something? [Yes, that would be the idea.]
Do you guys have scissors so I can cut the sleeves off my shirt?
So...has, like, anyone died?
Huh, so you Shepard guys are like AMR now. What does 'AMR' stand for? [Ahh, My Ride. Any more questions?]
Can I have a muscle relaxant? My daughter has a cramp in her leg.
Woaah....surf's up, dude! [As I was running while carrying a backboard over my head. Said several times in under two minutes.]
Hey, that thing [the backboard] isn't for a patient, is it? [No, just thought I'd do a bit of crowd surfing down in the mosh pit. I Figured the B-board would work kinda like a surfboard if I stood on it. Won't that be cool?]
So what's free here? [At the first-aid station.] Can I take a Band-Aid? How 'bout a schedule? Tissue? Anything else?
I have a pounding headache, can I get some Vicodin? Only aspirin? Never mind, it doesn't hurt.
I'm diabetic, do you have any insulin? Well no, I don't need it, just wondering and thought I'd let you know.
Woaah....hey, medics! Over here! [As we were frantically searching for a seriously injured patient who we were told was trampled in the mosh pit.] No, we dunno nothing 'bout no patient...just thought you girls were fine. Sure you won't stay?
(over the phone) Hi, I'm a doctor up at Swedish. I have a patient who shouldn't be there, so if you see someone in a white T-shirt and blue jeans could you send him back to the hospital? [Our idea was to round up everyone wearing a white T-shirt and jeans-probably a fifth of the people there-on buses to Swedish and let Doc sort them out.]
Do you have a bin? [he wanted a bin for garbage, as we found out when he handed us his food wrapper and left. Apparently our garbage can was superior to the three large dumpsters 10 feet away.]
You're so beautiful my heart's beating too fast! Will you examine me?
Are you selling drinks? [No, but we'll sell you this drunk. Come to think of it, we'll pay you to take him.]
Is this, like, a joke? [When we asked people to move out of the way when we were pushing a patient with a bloody foot in a wheelchair.]
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