St. Christopher on the fly.
It is yellow, it is loud, it is called St. Christopher and it saves lives. The medical rescue helicopter which sadly is called out all too often in our part of the world. Coming from South Africa, the thought of being transported by one of those is akin to having one foot in the grave. One only does it when no other choice is had because let's face it, that little journey isn't cheap and not all medical aids used to pay for it and that thought alone could worsen any condition whilst being flown!
Well, here the medical aid does. Often this helicopter is used for such ' inane ' illnesses as broken ankles, bones or unexplained collapses. Personally I think it is often not really needed because an ambulance would do the trick as well. Unless it is vital to get the person as quick as possible to a hospital of course.
So, I was standing talking to my neighbour after our walk, with Maxi impatiently romping at the bit ( the lure of his daily treats after his walk! ), when we heard the unmistakable sound of the medical helicopter. It has an unique sound, and the rotation of the blades almost give credence to the name ' chopper '.
The helicopter turned and came back once more indicating that Eisenberg was its destination. Yikes, a horrible thought. We carried on chatting until a few minutes later one of the young mothers came pushing her tired darling up the road. Another neighbour;
" Birgit, do you know where the helicopter landed? "
Ah, it seems I am not the only one to let my imagination run wild. The sound of an approaching helicopter can often mean that someone's time is starting to run out. A terrible thought, but in a small village where everyone knows everyone, it is only natural that the bush telephone is being used to find out who the unlucky passenger was.
I hope that today's landing was due to a broken bone of sorts and that very soon that person will be back home and enjoying the many wonderful aspects of village life.
Biggi
No comments:
Post a Comment