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We didn't read this whole post on the show, due to it being long as hell and not especially funny but we got to give it to the guy for putting the work in. Plus we know our female listeners would probably appreciate it. So here ya go!

I leaned back into the passenger seat of my ambulance. I kicked my leg up, catching the trauma sheers in my pocket on the door. Wiggling free, I tried to find a comfortable position as I propped my leg up and pushed back into the Ford's chair. Being six feet tall is perfectly average and I don't go through life ever noticing my height. Until I'm posted in an ambulance for too long. The dispatch channel broke through the quiet droning of other radio traffic and my heart thumped in my chest... 

The last number of the unit wasn't ours."Goddamn it," I muttered, rolling down my window for fresh now. I was already uncomfortable having been sitting here for a couple hours at the Fred Meyer on interstate. Now I had to deal with dumping a bunch of epinephrine and dopamine into my system for "fight or flight" with the ability to do neither. My partner just grunted and kept reading. She was going on a trip to of all things, a pancake symposium near Seattle. Everybody at the company knew her thing was pancakes. She. Loved. Pancakes. More than her job. More than sex. It was... her thing. When she got into reading about pancakes, there was very little that could break her out of it until she gave up on her own. 

I could get like that with a few things, sometimes. I had many areas of passion; aviation - I loved flying! Guitars, check. BMW cars? Yep, but only BMW's, and maybe a few other high end cars. But that's it, cars don't interest me otherwise. Medical stuff and EMS? Big time. I've been living and breathing it for almost five years now. I took a break after developing PTSD after a couple really bad calls right in a row, but I live for it. I was kind of a nerd, in retrospect. I enjoyed computer games, card games, book collecting and some pretty dorky movies. But no yin is without his yang as I also enjoyed guns, military technology, and martial arts. None of that translated in finding anything to do on my run down iPhone, however. 

I was just about to say something unnecessarily mean about the dispatchers number. My theory that he was in fact psychic wasn't disproved that day. It was as though he knew what I was about to say and handed down a swift, brutal punishment. 

"Engine twenty four, Medic three three six for an MV3 at Going and Lagoon, semi truck versus pickup, multiple calls stating the pickup has rolled with entrapment."  

The hair on the back of my neck and along my arms raised and stood on end. My breath caught in my throat and before I could do anything else. My partner said something very unkind about the dispatcher's mother and slammed the old Ford ambulance into drive. We were out of the parking lots with full lights and siren screeching in Phaser mode before I even noticed we were moving... 

As Kim, my partner, weaved through traffic I was operating the radio, lights, and sirens to make sure we would make it there safely and not end up being the subject of another 911 call. I never went to therapy for my PTSD. It cost me my relationship at the time. My ex told me. 

"If you have one more bad call and don't get help, I'm leaving you." She wasn't joking. I should have gotten help. Images replayed in my mind of one dark stretch of highway two years ago. I remember seeing a dark, hulking wreckage off the side of the county highway as we pulled up with a state trooper and the fire rescue unit. It was almost a half hour drive for us to reach that far out there where they crashed. It was so smashed I couldn't tell what kind of vehicle it had been. I stepped out into the cold summer's night, bathed in red, white and blue strobing light. As I slid down the embankment with the airway bag I heard that wailing. 

I call it "the wail" because once you hear it, it imprints itself on your soul. It's the sound of such stricken grief that there's no more thinking. It's the sound of wishing so hard to turn back the clock and undo your mistake... and realizing you can't. It's the sound of fear... the sound of death. It's the sound that tells you there's at least one person who survived... and at least one who didn't. 

I snap back to reality as we go down the hill to Swan Island. I could see at the intersection a semi blocking traffic and what appeared to be a dodge pickup on its top, crumpled, surrounded by broken glass and debris. There were a few witnesses parked nearby and it looked like a few bystanders were concerned about the occupants of the truck. One turned to see us approaching and began frantically waving. 

"Thanks for the tip," I muttered to Kim. 

"No shit, we might have just driven right by!" 

I know bystanders mean well, but the things people do without thinking... We kill the sirens and park as police arrive. I can hear Engine 24 coming down the hill behind us. I grab the trauma kit out of the side compartment and head over to the driver side window of the truck. I saw an older male trapped in his seat, suspended awkwardly from his seat belt. I get down on my belly to assess him, and that's when I got a surprise. That's when I saw you for the first time. In that horrible moment, I had a vision of beauty when we locked eyes. 

I thought at first I was hallucinating. I really thought he died and I was looking at an angel. For a moment I just stared at you in shock, until I saw the look in your eyes of trying to hide panic. 

"I can't stop the bleeding," you told me, your voice cracking. "I've tried putting pressure on it, but it just won't stop." 

"You're a bystander?" I ask, making sure you were okay. "You weren't in the vehicle?" 

"No, I was right behind him when he blew the red light. I saw everything... Please, stop the bleeding!" 

"Where's he bleeding from?" I scooted into the vehicle as much as I could to see the injury. A firefighter crawled into the back of the cab and announced he was taking c-spine. "Get his airway too, Jake, he's snoring, get his tongue up" I tell him. "He's not conscious." 

"His arm!" you say quietly me, "just below his armpit." 

"Shit." It was both because I couldn't reach that side of him and because of the location of the injury. Bright red blood was pooling under us, under him. I reached into my bag and handed you a black item in plastic wrapping. 

"You know how to put on a tourniquet?" I asked. I didn't wait for a reply before giving you instruction, which you followed. "Did it stop?" 

"Yes... I think so anyway. There's so much blood!" 

"Good work. I think you saved him. Can you back out safely? It's not safe for you to be here." 

"I don't care, I'm not going." We peer around the injured man to lock eyes again and I feel my breath catch in my throat again. This time, it's not from fear. I thought you were so beautiful in that moment, it was hard for me to look away. I'm not sure if I believed in love at first sight... definitely lust... but... could this be? I forced myself to focus and put you to work helping me to stabilize the patient. When we're ready to pull him out, you asked me where we were taking him. 

"Emanuel, it's closest and a level one trauma center," I said cooly. I was hoping you'd follow up and I'd see you there, but I knew that never happened. Maybe in the movies, or TV shows... But never in reality. And certainly not to me. I had a couple firefighters help extricate you from the vehicle safely to avoid getting cut on broken class or twisted metal. 

We took the patient in the ambulance and I went to work intubating the patient while my partner did a few other things and a firefighter drove us code three, lights and sirens. I had wanted to get one last look at you, or your car, anything to figure out who you were. But, I had to stay with my patient, and I figured I'd never see you again. 

The inside of the ambulance was clean, finally. I wasn't. I was a filthy mess. I was covered in dirt and blood. I closed the side door to the ambulance and walked off into the parking lot a little ways. I checked the volume on the radio on my hip to make sure the volume was up. It was. I turned and sat on the curb and felt my throat getting tight. I felt a wave of emotion coming over me and tears coming to my eyes. 

It was night, and I just scrambled down a ten foot embankment to a dark wreckage. The wail was clearly coming from the car now. I pulled out and turned on my flashlight. The car was a convertible... of some kind. The passenger leaning over the driver. The force of the impact was so great it had broken the driver seat and was laid back in the reclined position. The girl was young and beautiful and she didn't seem to be injured. No bleeding, no deformed limbs. The driver, however... Despite the fact he was sliced to ribbons there was no blood. His right ear was hanging off and the rest of him... well... Let's just say I would have needed a picture of him to tell you what he looked like before the crash. The initial impact must have broken his neck and severed his spinal cord. His heart had stopped beating before the car had even come to a rest. 

"Miss, I'm a Paramedic with the ambulance... are you hurt?" 

She turned and looked at me, eyes wild, mouth open, took one big breath... and wailed...

"Uhm... are you okay?" Your voice! I know that voice, it was you! You came back? Excitement built in me before I could get out the flashback and focus my eyes on you. Again it was sunny, I was sitting on a curb in the parking lot of the hospital and you're crouched in front of me, clearly worried. "That was bad, huh?" 

I realize my cheeks are wet and I must have looked like a wreck. I wiped my face dry and shook my head. "No, it wasn't that. He'll be fine. It was just..." I paused, not sure what to say. I didn't want to come off as a weirdo or weak or damaged or something. Probably too late for that anyway. I muster a weak smile and allow myself to bask in your presence, meeting your gaze. "It just reminded me of another call I had... It was way worse than that. I just... haven't been able to get over it I guess." 

You nodded in understanding, but didn't say anything. I realized in that moment you were just as covered in dirt and blood as I was. I also noticed a cut on your knee. "Glass?" I asked, inspecting the wound. 

You blushed and tried to brush it off. "Yeah, but it's nothing... Really." Smiled at me, telling my silently that you're a warrior, tough, strong, independent. 

I gave an appreciative nod. "Let me fix you up... Come on." We stood up and I lead you to the ambulance. I opened the side door for your and motioned inside. "Ladies first!"  I closed the door behind us and got out some sterile saline and some four by four bandages and a roll of tape. "You can just sit on the bench seat, it's fine." 

You did so, and I kneeled down on the floor before you, looking up toward you. I offered another smile as I began cleaning your wound. 

"What's your name?" I asked quietly, trying not to give away my inner excitement at seeing you again... at being able to be alone with you and enjoy just your company with no distractions. You told me and I committed it to memory, on the spot. "That was very brave what you did back there. Thank you for your help." 

"Thanks," you said with a little pride at the compliment. "It just what anybody would have done." 

"Sadly, it's not. I've never seen anybody do what you did back there. You ever thought about being an EMT?" 

"Well, no... I like what I do now, so I hadn't really thought it." 

"You'd be good at it," I say, finishing up the taping job over your newly bandaged knee. I linger, looking up at you... looking at your lips. Sometimes you see a face so beautiful that it seems like a shame to not kiss it. I looked into your eyes and saw you had caught me looking at your lips. The shy giggle you let slip was the cutest sound I had ever heard. When you blushed a little and averted your gaze, my heart melted. "Maybe..." I started asking you out, and you knew it. I watched you go through a series of thoughts silently, before settling on... a decision. I had no idea what it was, but you looked at me expectantly, with an eyebrow cocked, waiting for me to finish. 

"Maybe...?" You said knowingly, leading me. 

I cleared my throat and it was my turn to blush. "Maybe I could... Buy you dinner tonight? As a thank you for helping me out. For saving that man." 

Your face lit up and you broke into a grin. "I'd like that." 

As I was forming my response, my radio blasted alive, causing us to both jump. I can't even remember what the dispatch was, but we exited the ambulance and I led you to the driver side. It was my turn to drive. I handed you a business card. "Text me, okay? We'll set it up soon... Thanks for coming by." 

"No problem," you said, accepting the card. Our eyes met again for moment. Suddenly, you shot up onto your tippy-toes and kissed me. 

"Goddamn sonofabitch!" We both turned and looked to see Kim running out of the hospital with a plate of pancakes. Not a to go box, or a paper plate, but an actual glass plate. She didn't seem to realize that she was interrupting us... falling.

"Really? Right now? I'm barely getting lunch and after that call?! They should give us at least an hour!" The expletive laden rant continued, muffled by the slamming of the passenger side door as she got in. I chuckled and shook my head, wondering if we're going to get an angry call about stealing dishes from the cafeteria. 

I smile to you with a wink. "See you later..." and go back to work with a new sensation... Something I hadn't felt in a long time. It was... 

Hope.