for the Placerville Volunteer Fire Department and EMTs
Within minutes after the ambulance leaves,
the girl who swallowed the ring
pulls out her toy doctor kit.
She fits the pink cuff onto my arm
and pumps until the little plastic dial changes colors.
What seemed like an emergency forty minutes before
has become a game. Only it is not a game.
She is replaying how we serve each other.
Our drive way, how small it seemed
flooded with red and white lights.
Nearly a dozen neighbors and strangers
rushed from their homes in response
to the terrified call.
Yes, my daughter says, I think you will be just fine.
Her voice is calm and reassuring. She speaks in the same
smooth tones that the EMTs used
as they sat on the floor beside her.
Now, she says, let’s check your temperature.
I marvel at how once the fear is gone,
it is gone—moved through, like the ring
no longer trapped in her throat.
What remains is relentless gratitude—
wave after wave of respect—
for all people who devote their lives
to meeting neighbors and strangers
in their most vulnerable, fragile, fearful states.
And what remains is deepening love
for the girl who even now
is reaching into her doctor kit
and pressing the button
on her pretend pager to say
that everything is going to be okay.
must have been scary, is everyone ok?
Alan, it was very scary, and the xrays the next morning showed that the ring had passed through her stomach and is destined to eventually pass all the way through.
I am astonished by how when things are scary, it is hard to believe they will be any other way, and when they are fine, it is hard to believe they were ever scary.
Sending you love, r
On 8/9/14, 5:05 AM, “comment-reply@wordpress.com” wrote:
>
Oh, by the way, I like the new flower background. I know, it’s probably been there for years now, but…just thought I’d mention it. I thought the poem had a ring of truth, but I do like the way you adjust the fright with what you daughter does playing EMT.