The last couple of posts have been a little heavy for me- cathartic, but heavy. I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce and exploit a side that we all have, but don’t usually speak about openly… and publicly. Petty Christy has arrived and she would like to tell you about the time karma delivered, honey. Dee-livered! I have only told this story to a few people that I know personally, but never on social media as it’s a little long and a little inappropriate for me to feel comfortable putting it on my personal facebook page. I’m sure the person I’m speaking of will eventually come across this once someone figures it out, but 1.) I do not care. I will tell this story in front of them any time, any place and 2.) Should this person wish to out themselves, it just brings me more traffic so I mean, it would really be a disservice NOT to tell this story, right? Exactly.
Back in 2017 I was the training officer for my EMS service and I had just taught a capnography class when I was contacted by a colleague about teaching this class at another service. For the sake of this story, we shall call this colleague: Brad. Brad was a brand new baby medic with I’m guessing not a terrible amount of experience under the belt, but I really didn’t know him before any of this. So I go and teach the class and all goes well. Let me just insert this nugget right here: not only was this class almost an hour away from me, but this was all MY material that I had poured hours and hours into and taught free of charge because it was something I really believed could help providers which would in turn help our patients. That free loader didn’t even offer me a sandwich, but did ask me to come back and teach another class. Not surprisingly I didn’t hear back after I informed him that the next one wouldn’t be free of charge. Ha! Imagine that. Fast forward a couple of years and I heard that Brad was now a flight medic with a local HEMS (helicopter emergency medical service) and had gotten a little big for the britches… or flight suit.
In October of 2020, I had a really difficult bout with COVID and was hospitalized for two weeks. I was still so weak and short of breath that I ended up being out of work for almost three months and social media during that time was a toxic wasteland of misinformation and political bullshit.
Because of everything I had been through personally, and all of the sick people I had taken care of, I was really passionate about public education and fighting misinformation on social media during this time. It was enraging to see healthcare providers- people that SHOULD KNOW BETTER- engaging in this nonsense. Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit! What do you know!? I stumbled across Mr. too-big-for-the-flight-suit-britches BRAD posting something absolutely so moronic on facebook that I had to say something. I couldn’t let this scientific slight go without correction; and I do mean I am almost physically incapable of keeping my thoughts to myself in certain situations. Since Brad was more of a colleague and less of a friend, I decided to keep my comment on his post more on the professional, respectful side instead of what I wanted to do which would have been to really say something extremely insulting and unproductive. So I commented something to the effect of: “Hey, you’re a flight medic now and people look up to you and will listen to what you have to say so please make sure what you’re posting is accurate and not politically based since people may make healthcare decisions off of what you have to say.” So what does he do? Calls me some unflattering names and blocks me so I can’t respond, of course. Coward.
So now that you finally have the entire backstory, here’s the juicy details of what actually went down:
My only memory of my flight to the hospital is what happened when we landed. As I was being pulled off the helicopter, I started projectile vomiting and it went ALL OVER the person at the head of the sled (it’s what they use to load and unload you on and off the aircraft). I don’t remember exactly what was said, but I do remember hearing a panicked voice because there was literally nothing he could do- it was either drop me, or wear the vomit! I’m talking like exorcist-level projectile vomiting, and I had just had a BBQ sandwich with onion rings before the accident. Lee (my husband) said that when he finally got to see me in the ER hours later that my room was covered in vomit and was seriously disturbing!
For the duration of my nearly three-month hospital ordeal, I would tell this story to anyone who would listen while adding that I had no idea who my flight crew was. Still, I hoped at least one of the crew was Brad because if it was then I knew he was the one I had covered in my vomit and oh what a sweet dose of karma that would be! It wasn’t until after I had been home for several weeks when I finally reached out to someone else I knew that worked at that base and had him check to see who my crew was, and what do you know? IT WAS BRAD! At that moment, I knew victory! I left Brad covered with the sour stench of rotten BBQ from the pits of my stomach and I hope it’s a long time before he can enjoy that American tradition again. With every outdoor celebration he attends he will be reminded of me when he sees the BBQ being served and he will be forced to remember the price he paid for his intellectual slip. Now, I admit that what he did was very small, but I hold a grudge like nobody’s business. Petty? Yes. Do I lose any sleep over it? Not even for a second.
If that was the end of the story then I’d be pretty happy with that, but there is one other little nugget that makes me giggle. I was scrolling on Tik Tok one day and one of his videos came across my ‘for you’ page, so of course I HAD to comment on it:
You’re welcome.
PS: Brad, if you ever read this please know that I hold no ill feelings and hope we can both get a laugh. Thanks for taking care of me that day.
Note from the Author: It was brought to my attention well after making this post that my information was not correct, and Brad was not the person that took care of me that day. I mean, it's not like I had a brain injury or anything, right? In reality, I threw up on some poor fellow just doing his job. Bummer. Even so, this story was my version of some dark humor, and finding anything to laugh at during that time was much needed for everyone involved.
