The Quiz Master
Had a call on the bat phone the other night for a single vehicle RTA on a nearby dual carriageway. When I arrived I was directed to a young man, kitted out in full motorcycle regalia, lying in the long grass. A quick survey and chat revealled that he’d come off his bike and, apart from a few aches and pains, seemed relatively unscathed. Still, couldn’t be too sure, seeing as he was part way down a ditch, in long grass and it was dark. I decided to wait until a back up ambulance arrived before I allowed him to move. “So where’s his bike?” I asked the police officer.
“See that police car down there?” He waved back down the road about 50 metres. “Looks like he lost it on the corner, hit one of the plastic bollards and came off. Somehow he’s ended up here”
You’re trying to tell me he’s been thrown that far? I don’t think so; no wings or superman cape.
The ambulance duly turned up. We scampered about in the long grass in the beam of one of the alley lights on my car; stinging nettles up our backsides, tripping over roots and old beer cans as we positioned the patient on the long board and hoisted him onboard the vehicle. At one point I managed to lose my balance completely and tumbled down the bank; a true professional. I left the crew to carry out a proper assessment and wandered off down the road to see what condition the bike was in and see if I could get any more information about the accident (mechanism of injury and all that malarkey). It was nigh on impossible to tell that he’d hit a plastic bollard. There was certainly one missing but the only evidence was a liberal sprinkling of small plastic fragments everywhere. As for his bike. Well the fuel tank was still in one piece with a few straggly bits of metal attached. No sign of wheels, handle bars, even the engine had vanished.
“It’s probably somewhere in there” announced another officer gesticulating in the general direction of the bushes and trees ahead of us.
Wow! Now that’s some breakup! Maybe he did fly 50 metres then!
What really happened?
Did he fly or did he land nearby and stagger down the road to where we found him?
Just how many pieces can a crashed motorbike break in to?
Anyway, what’s this got to do with surreal situations?
Well, as the crew got ready to convey the patient off to A&E the electrics on the vehicle failed. They were going nowhere.
Excellent. Top class vehicles these!
We called up for a back up ambulance. Luckily, the local hospital was not too far away and the cavalry arrived fairly promptly. There followed the usual huffing and puffing over swapping trolley cots and replacing long boards and all the inevitable squabbling between crews over who has what kit. Once we’d got that sorted out and the patient was away, the three of us sat in the back of the knackered vehicle to await the arrival of a mechanic to get it going again. Control were happy for me to stay as I was still in my local area in case another call came in.
We made ourselves comfortable. I had some homemade cookies with me, which we duly attacked, and Mary produced a 20 questions ball from her bag. So there we were, at the side of a dual carriageway (parked up on the pavement mind), at 1 o’clock in the morning, eating cookies and playing twenty questions by torch light.
Now how surreal was that?
I’m pleased to say I managed to beat the ball with both ‘cardboard box’ and ‘banana’.
* before everyone writes in – I know there’s no such word; but there should be!