And a chance meeting with Asheville’s EMS now confirms my new theory that the “The Best-Looking Men Go Into the Health Field” (Click for close-up and you’ll see.)
I’d rounded the bend and was coming up the hill, doing a fast-clip walk and noted several people all clumped together on the path, ahead. I recall thinking: “Well, that’s a terrible place to socialize…Don’t they see me coming? I’ll have to walk right through them or around. How thoughtless of them!”
I never noted the Guy on the Ground.
When I was almost upon them, at the crest of the hill, a woman said “We tried to call you…” I was confused and still not understanding, and then I looked down. The guy on the ground was my husband, sitting there, bloodied and shaken. Someone had already called the Rescue.
I recall thinking: “OK, this has to stop. I don’t know how many more of these occasions I can take…” It’s been three years (almost to the day), since he went in an ambulance to a local hospital, but on that occasion he had a broken neck, when he was hit by a 12-year-old girl, driving a truck. She’d panicked and cross the road, right into my husband’s lane, slamming into him.
Today’s injuries looked far worse than they were. Apparently, he’d tripped on a rock in the path and then went flying. His head, hands and knees were all ripped up.
But I just stood dazed. I guess the word “Rescue” brought that crisis back.
When again, the woman said “You don’t have your cell phone with you?” I nodded “No, I don’t.” It’s odd, too, that I didn’t, for I usually carry it with me. She then said “Well, when you get it, you’ll note a couple of calls from us.”
I still stood, confused.
When we had nothing to sop up the blood, one lady in a “C’est La Vie” shirt offered what she carried in her car for kid emergencies—a roll of toilet paper. She apologized for providing nothing more medic-worthy, while Husband joked (thankfully, he never loses his sense of humor) that he wasn’t fussy…He’d use it.
I recall thinking: “Good idea (to travel with a roll in the car.)
When the EMS arrived, they all hovered over him and assessed his condition, while I was struck by something else: They were all GQ-Worthy Men who could each have graced a Hunk Calendar (You know—a shirtless Mr. May, in those mags where they show off their pecs.)
It was as if they all stepped off a movie set, wearing the crazy mustard-colored overalls with suspenders.
I began to wonder “In Asheville, is there a minimum bar of ‘gorgeous’ to be on the EMS Team?”
I didn’t share my thoughts, for they seemed wildly-inappropriate, considering the scenario (but really, now, I knew my husband was OK.)
But possibly, others would think me shallow, and furthermore, let’s face it: We older women aren’t even supposed to think like that.
But I repeat: These guys were over-the-top-handsome, so much so that if I were a young woman, I might self-inflict, just for the chance to meet them.
When we got to the hospital, I noted Christopher, the PA from Pennsylvania (Pa.) who further advanced my new theory that, especially in Asheville, “Good-Looking People Go Into Medicine.”
That young man put 5 stitches in, and closed up the worst of my man’s cuts, chatting amiably all the while. He, his wife, and 4 kids are recent (past several years) transplants to Asheville.
So, the splendid team of Asheville’s EMS…the PA at the hospital… all confirm my new theory that apparently, “the Best-Looking Men Go Into the Health Care Field.”
That might even make a subject for a poll for Asheville-ites… if it weren’t so damned Politically-Incorrect.
Who knows (do you?) Maybe the “good-looking” unwritten requirement applies in Rhode Island, too…If so, e-mail me–email@example.com– a pic (GP, of course) of your Hot Guy and I’ll put him on the blog…And comment away, on either front….