New Year, New Job, New Outlook on Life Random ramblings by our local lad Okay so we’ve made it through another decade although in my case not entirely unscathed; but I’m okay. 2019 wasn’t the best of years for me personally but I won’t burden you with the details right now. What I will say is that the old adage ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ is kind of relevant for me right now. Part of the outcome from last year’s unfortunate events was the decision to walk away from the corporate world – the emails, the stress, the unpaid late nights, the birthday collection for Maureen in accounts who you’ve never met – and do something truly worthwhile. By the way when I told an old friend of mine that she said: “Nah really? You’ve actually done it! You’ve finally become a Butlins Redcoat?” Not exactly. You see I decided to join the Ambulance service. I must stress I’m not a paramedic; I’m the other end of the process so to speak. Paramedics save people’s lives and take the sick into hospital. I on the other hand take people out of hospital or indeed sick people between hospitals, or back into hospital for further treatment. On occasion it can simply be taking a geriatric to have a leg looked at, hence the lovely nickname ‘Gerri Ferry’. Between marriage proposals from 92 year old ladies and being shown how big a cannula bruise is you meet some fascinating people with intriguing tales to tell. Gloria, whose primroses have already flowered aside, I met the aunt of the chap who had crafted the sculpture of
Darcy Bussell (until ‘Strictly’ came along I thought that was the name of a dance move, not an actual dancer) located outside the Royal Opera House in London. When I wasn’t recovering a runaway zimmer frame that threatened to wake up Phyllis at the back of the ambulance who by now was snoring at an illegal level of decibels, I listened with intense interest to a couple originally from Blackpool. You see they used to work at the Tower Ballroom and Winter Gardens when Blackpool was the mecca of entertainment in the UK. Who they hadn’t met isn’t worth mentioning except perhaps Sue Pollard. But possibly the most magic moment was an elderly lady who shared a secret with me from the stretcher that had become a thorn in her side. I became the only person she’d ever told. Her relief was palpable. It was a privilege and an honour to be that person. In fact the entire job is in my in view a privilege. So you see when a door closes another truly does open and the view from it is more often than not a brighter one. So may your view from whichever door you’re looking through this year be a happy, vibrant one. The Felixstowe Magazine - 2020 7
