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and as a medic I have my story, does not involve Iraq, but a suicide
Young man, about nineteen, He had a hell of a life, from what we heard,
When EMS arrived he had hung himself. Usually in cases like that there is nothing to do, but he still had a pulse
The crew worked the code and transported, he coded five minutes before the 24th ended. We worked that code for 25 minutes, part of the reason, that the death certificate would not say December 24th.
There are great and small tragedies around...
My other story involves a five year old, playing in the street while mom made dinner, for Christmas night. She was run over by a drunk. Her skull collapsed under the weight of the car, I had to declare that kid on the 24th of December, at 17:05 hours, in 1990... I still see her at night, every year. And she was not my child. She had pretty brown eyes, and raven black hair, soft as silk, where the blood had not pooled, and her skin was dark, but ashen... her blue lips, and swollen tongue still haunt me. All we could do was call the coroner's. there was no pulse or rhythm, and there probably had not been any for as long as it took us to get on scene, probably fifteen minutes. I was the one who had to tell mom that we could not do a thing... I was the one who took her in a warm embrace and let her cry on my shoulder for as long as she needed, and it was me who called the priest and others in the family...
Of course the year we called the year of suicides comes to mind, but I think enough horrors have been spoken off in this post.
Welcome home soldier, most people will not understand why ... and sergeant the pain and the memories never go away. They never ever do. Been over twelve years for some of them. Been longer for a few, like the one I posted on the top. That was my first christmas on duty, I was just 19, dumb and would live forever... that was my baptism you could say.
Welcome home and enjoy your family, and the quiet evening away from the horrors, Why I try every year, to drive those memories away, and every year, they come flooding back... like clockwork.
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