Calling the paramedics

Yesterday afternoon, Wife drove the two-and-a-half hours out to see my parents and take care of some business in their town. She expects to be gone for a day, maybe two. (The details are part of a whole other story, that maybe I will get around to.) Anyway, she called in late afternoon to say she had gotten there just fine. So far, so good.

Later that evening -- quite late, in fact -- I was sitting at my desk composing the previous post ("Off the rails") when my father called. He said Wife had collapsed without warning while he was talking to her and picking up from dinner, and he had been unable to rouse her.

So he called the paramedics.

I asked him to describe her symptoms, and honestly it sounded like the same behavior I have seen around here a lot. (See, for example, this story here.) I told him as much, and suggested that the paramedics were probably overkill.

My dad put the chief paramedic on the phone, and I'm afraid I didn't impress him. He said simply that once they are called, they are responsible. Since Wife didn't look OK to him, my opinion didn't count for much.

So they brought in a stretcher and drove her away to the hospital.

My father says he'll keep me informed. Gosh, never a dull moment, huh?