Monday, August 8, 2011

My Best Friend


My best friend and wife suffered a heart attack Wednesday night. She gently woke me up around nine p.m. and said softly, “Darling, I think I am having another episode.” We both knew what was happening because this was her third attack in ten years.

While I was dressing, she called 911 and within three minutes a fire truck arrived in front of the house. Three young heroes came inside the house and readied my wife for the trip to the hospital. Their professionalism was profound, but tempered with humor and genuine caring. Thank, God, the station is just down the hill from where we live in Camp Verde, Arizona. As it turns out, all the ambulances were on call and we had to wait for one to arrive from Cottonwood, which is about twenty minutes away.

Each fireman had a distinct role and each performed their assigned tasks superbly. Their extensive training was evident and at no time did my wife or I feel distressed because we had to wait for an ambulance. Everything was under control and my wife’s wish not to be administered nitroglycerin was acknowledged and she was given morphine to ease the pain in her chest and arms.

The ambulance arrived with two paramedics and wifey was put on a gurney, loaded and whisked away. Meanwhile the firemen picked up every little scrap of paper or anything else dropped on the floor before they left with me following at their heels thanking them profusely for all their help.

After putting our dogs in their crates, I locked the house and headed for the hospital. When I arrived, my wife was in a room, comfortable and waiting for the ER doctor. She is OK, but will have to remain in the ICU while they try to figure out why this episode happened again.

In the meanwhile, I am going to submit this blog to the “Bugle”, which is our local newspaper. Our little fire department performs these miracles on a daily basis and they need to be commended for a job well done. We sometimes forget just how important emergency services are in our community, which includes the Marshal’s office. They too are just down the road from our house. My wife and I are grateful for the sense of security we enjoy because of these two departments.

Kudos, ladies and gentlemen, you deserve it!

I’m just saying,

Mitt Winstead

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