The other day, I was telling a friend about the “old days” and some of my interesting EMS experiences. One of the most interesting areas we covered was the north side of Endicott which was the Italian section of town. There were fantastic restaurants and the best pizza I’ve ever had in my life. Ambulance calls up there could be interesting.
We’d get a call for an elderly male patient. The main complaint could be any one of a hundred ailments, but everything else was the same. We would know immediately it was an Italian household if, as we got close to the scene, we had difficulty finding a place to park the ambulance.
That was because before calling us, they had to call all the family member to discuss sending Nono to the hospital. We’d weave our way through the crowd in the living room up to the second floor bedroom where we’d invariably find him. After dealing with whatever medical issues were presented, we’d get ready to transport. At this point, stage two of the fun began. One of the relatives would be able to ride in the ambulance in front next to the driver. The debate would begin. We already knew the answer and could pick the winner, but there was no sense spoiling the fun. Eventually they would decide and the result was always the same. The most hysterical daughter was selected to go along with us.
The last part was inevitable as well. As we would wheel the old guy toward the door, the four foot nothing, tough as nails little Italian Grandma would wag her finger in your face and begin a lecture, naturally in Italian. We’d not a lot and smile and agree with everything she said, as we got him out the door and into the rig.
Happened to me at least fifty times…….
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