to coin a phrase from the clever Fiona over at cattle-kids-chaos. She has such a way of summing up a situation with just a few words.
In the past 48 hours, I've:
beaten a webby path to sites like these: sentinel and fire north, tracking and reporting the satellite imagery of "hotspots" on and near our neighbours properties, as the men assembly fire fighting units, machinery and manpower to put a halt to the fire's path;
Received a phone call from the neighbour, wondering if I might track down my husband to give him a hand again at his end of the fire, as he was feeling a little bit crook, after a little bingle between his loader and a tree stump rendered him unconscious for four (FOUR OMG!) hours;
Spoken in calm and measured tones, with the skill of years of filtering the important bits from blokey conversations, enquired on the state of limbs, vision, mental state and feeling, and if there were much blood (ascertaining, yes there appeared to be quite a bit of blood, yes, head and neck feel a bit sore, legs still work, can you find that husband of yours, think fire is getting away!)
Spoken again in calm and measured tones, instructed the neighbour to perhaps have a shower or wash to further ascertain injuries, please DO NOT GO ANYWHERE, I'll ring back in just a moment, why don't you have a little sit down for awhile.
Made a rather quick and hasty phone call to a luckily-at-home nurse friend up the road closer to the neighbour, dispatched her (and her husband to aid in fire blocking efforts) to the neighbours place
Instructed the nurse's (chopper pilot) husband to go fetch my non-phone-answering completely oblivious husband from whatever far flung corner of the property he was, via helicopter. With no need to make the journey a pleasant one.
Rung 000 and instructed the Queen Street residing ambulance phone person on how to get to the neighbours property (this took five minutes, before any first aid advice was given!) and assured him that, yes I believed the patient was still breathing as he was TALKING.
Made and received countless number of phone calls liaising with the nurse (who reported that the ambulance man, a very nice fellow, decided to fetch the rescue helicopter to take neighbour straight to the Townsville General for treatment) finding other man power and getting neighbours wife to come home from the camp draft two hours drive away, without causing heart failure on her part.
Heard that the neighbour was found to be sound in mind (if not body, with some facial contusions and fractured jaw, and quite annoyed that he is sitting around in the city in nothing but his jocks and a hospital gown, after they cut off his jeans, much to his disgust!) and fire - after a few anxious moments and busy bodies on machines and burning fire breaks - was more or less under control. At the moment anyhow.
Wondered why I felt the need for numerous cups of coffee.
I think I would prefer a much duller life.
I am giddy just thinking about all of this!
ReplyDeletePoor bloke, fancy leaving him there in only his jocks .... it might be the ploy needed to keep him resting!
Yes, I often think I'd like to find that farm John Denver used to sing about "Well life on the farm's kinda laid back..."
ReplyDeleteObviously somewhere in America.