After three years, and thousands of calls, the end of C and Slimm is here.
Management has seen fit to end the best work relationship either one of us has ever had and give us two new partners.
We did the math a few days ago, and figured we have run 3,285 calls together. Give or take a few. That figures 6 calls per day on a 12 hour shift. We’ve run some awesome calls: together we have almost 25 saves (seriously, he is that good), delivered 5 babies, one being a set of twins, and we even made the news a few times. He looks handsome on film. I just look stupid. We’ve run the bad calls too: nasty car wrecks with fatalities, more than a handful of deceased shooting victims, both homicides and suicides, a person hit by a train, and the man who asked us not to let him die. We failed him.
It’s been more good than bad, and even through the bad times we had each other.
We’ve laughed. A lot. We’ve cried. Not really. We’ve spent dozens of hours throwing a football, and even more arguing about what to get for lunch.
We had lengthy conversations during the Presidential election, and I couldn’t win the arguments. Slimm was hung up on the Mormon thing.
So now I get a new guy. He’s from Minnesota or something like that. Some state that isn’t Mississippi, but starts with an ‘M.’ I haven’t given him a nickname yet. I guess he’s going to have to earn it.
I often call Slimm my ‘brother from another mother of a different color,’ and I mean it. Slimm has become a trusted confidante, and an even better friend. I’m sure going to miss working with him.