It started with the
life-threatening cut to the wrist that covered my kitchen in blood, but successfully missed all major arteries. (Wouldn’t think it to see the bloody mess we cleaned up at 3am.)
It continued, with the home break-in that resulted in one smashed window ($400+, thank-you very much) & the loss of … nothing. (Yes, we did replace our toothbrushes.)
AND now, third & hopefully final in the list of 2009 Near Misses, we bring you the paramedics who came to save Helen — but had the wrong house.
As we rolled into the street, the ambulance was obvious. Out in the middle of the road, parked straight as if forgotten, not askew as if abandoned.
“Hahahah,” I said, “if it’s in front of our place we know the cat’s been making prank phone calls again.”
“Ahaha,” agreed the boyfriend.
But, alas, it WAS in front of our house, & I leapt out of the car in somewhat of a panic to find out what on earth they were doing at my front door.
“That’s my house,” I stammered, “are you looking for something specific?”
“Is there a Helen at home?” the bored-looking paramedic asked.
He had bleached hair and looked like he wasn’t used to sleeping, or that he slept all the time on his feet. His partner was shorter, rounder, just as tired-looking.
“There’s no one home at all,” I said, leaving out the detail of the cat.
“Ah, well,” said the bleach-job.
I found myself apologising and the paramedics — rightly — pointed out it wasn’t my fault.
They wandered away. Wandered, not in a straight line. Like people filling time. And I stood still with my hand to my mouth, thinking that if I’d forgotten there was a Helen in the street, I was taking away her chance at life. And didn’t the paramedics want a chance to save her?! Wherever she was.
A minute or so later the ambulance drove away and the boyfriend returned from parking the car and the cat re-appeared from whatever corner she’d been in & you could swear Helen had never darkened my door with her misguided minions or lost saviours.