Tuesday, 13 May 2008


Its a lovely sunny day in my area and I'm out in a minibus full of probationers and we've all been on the street for about 3 weeks (exceot the instructors of course!). We take a few calls and turn up like rabbits in headlights en mass.

"Shall we get some refs?" Asks the instructor
It's decided we'll be going to McDonalds, it feels like a school trip.
"Can we have a unit please - personal injury RTA car vs Motorcycle, elm street"
Refs will wait, yeh we'll have that.

Although I'm only new I've already made the assumption that it'll be a sore neck or a sore leg - someone after compensation.

The road is packed with traffic backed up makes it hard to negotiate a 9-seater minibus down. I see the motorcyclist but no bike. He's lying on the floor face down in the middle of the road. Not as expected then...

We all jump out of the van keen as anything and an instructor and I run to the man. His face in the helmet is lifeless and spattered with blood. It's all hands on deck and the road closures are going in like a well oiled machine. Probationers chasing gawpers up the road to get them out of the scene shouting and being police officers.

LAS turn up on scene not a minute too soon and start working on the male immediately, one of my colleagues has felt his pulse stopping and he's quickly whisked away leaving ruined leathers, intubators, empty plastic packets from all the medical stuff on the tarmac. He dies en route to the hospital. Traffic are on scene measuring stuff while my friend completes his first accident report, for a fatal accident.

I am trying to find out his identity and look through his personal effects. There's the driving license, there's the DVD he was going to drop back to blockbusters on the way home from work, there's the bike magazine with his next bike in it. There's his mobile phone which beeps as I look at it. I read the message "Are you going to pick up Tom from football tonight?"

I speak to his wife who is picked up at home by a local unit and rushed to the hospital. It turns out they had an argument two days ago about washing the dishes. They hadn't spoken since....

Another nostalgia post from the early days. These sorts of incidents really stick in your mind. I think we get accustomed to certain calls and think we can predict what they're going to be. Even at this low level of service I was making assumptions - I learnt my first major lesson that day.