But the tell-tale sign of the cows proved correct and the weather has gone to hell in a handbasket since then. Right now it's raining cats and dogs. Everything is drenched. The Interstate highway is drenched, the countryside is drenched, and the hospital building is drenched. Even the paramedics barracks, which are usually perpetually open, have closed their huge doors to block incoming water. * *
And one of our LVN's, Geena-Lou, is the "on-call" nurse this weekend. And it's fortunate for her that she has a huge Ford pick-up truck with four-wheel drive--- because she's going to need it to get through the mud. *
She's got a daily wound care visit to do on a patient who lives on a distant cattle ranch, and to get there you've got to drive by several paint-pony ranches, a deer lease, and two goat farms. The region has few paved roads. It's so far out in the country that cell phones will blink in and out of "roam" mode, sometimes not working at all. I*
After a cup of Hazelnut coffee this morning, I pulled on one of my old "biker chick" jackets and drove over to the hospital to check on our two ill patients. *
I parked in the Emergency Room parking lot. But in my hurry, on my way up the lot's ramp, I almost ran over the main pilot of the hospital's Medical Helicopter when he unexpectedly emerged from the ambulance bay doors in a dash towards the helicopter's landing pad.
When I alighted from the Jeep, he hollered over at me: "What the hell are you trying to do, kill me?"
I hollered back at him: "No, dammit, but you shouldn't be flying in this awful weather anyway."
"We're not going to fly," he replied. "I just came out here to tie the dang thing down so that it doesn't blow off the roof in this rain."