Moving Forward

ten || divaricate

divaricate : to stretch or spread apart

"Last shift before your surgery, how you feeling?" Robert had asked as they were getting ready in the locker room. She was tying her boots when he had asked, and she looked up to him as she tied the knot.

"Bummed out. I know the time off will make me better, but I don't want to leave." Georgia responded as she stood up to tuck in the hem of her long sleeve into her waistband and adjusted her belt.

"Well you're always welcome here even if you're not working, Georgia." He answered as he stood himself, stretching his arms over his head to loosen up before their final shift together for a few months.

"I know, thank you." She answered, and the two of them met out in the meeting area, Georgia pouring herself a cup of coffee and sitting at the table, propping her feet up on the chair beside her as Robert sat on the other side of her. It was three in the afternoon, so hopefully they would not get much for the next fourteen hours. But, it was also Thanksgiving, so there was plenty of room for accidents from intoxicated family members, turkeys that have been cooking too long, and plenty of knives and people prone to injury. Since they were both working, Antonio and Georgia were going to celebrate Thanksgiving tomorrow evening. He was still working with Real Salt Lake FC through their playoff run, and after this season, he had planned on finally taking their offer and signing with them for the next three seasons. They were both excited, for Antonio had been itching to do something other than coach and mess around ever since he was discharged, and she was going to have a soccer boyfriend again.

"Ambulance eighty-five, respiratory distress. 275 Vianna Avenue."

"Duty calls." Robert said as they both pushed their chairs out. She left her mug sitting on the table as they rushed out of the dining area and to the apparatus floor, Georgia putting her coat and radio on, pulling her beanie over her ears. She got behind the wheel and turned the key as Cass got in the passenger side. The garage doors opened and she turned on the lights and sirens, stopping traffic and heading to Vianna Avenue.

"So, what are you going to do with your time off?" He asked as they made their way to the call site.

"Going to catch up on sleep, read, and just relax." She responded, turning onto the street, turning the sirens off. "I want a picture with you and the rest of the guys before I leave." She stated, pulling up to the address and parking the rig.

"You'll get one, don't worry." He assured as they got out of the ambulance. He grabbed the ambo-bag out of the inside of the side door of the back of the ambulance, and she met him on the other side of the rig to head up to the door.

"Fire department!" She called out as she pounded on the door. A few moments later, an older man opened up the door and waved them inside.

"We were having dinner, and my wife, Judy, she said she was having trouble breathing." He informed, leading them into their dining room. A whole group of people who she assumed were family were all crowded around the women, who was sitting in a recliner.

"Alright, back it up. Give her some space." She asserted, and the group of people, who looked bewildered by the situation, backed up to give them space to work. "Hi Judy, my name's Georgia and this is my partner Robert. Your husband told us you were having some trouble breathing?"

"Yeah, it just doesn't feel like," Judy paused to try and catch her breath. "It feels like I'm trying to breathe into a balloon that won't inflate."

"Do you have any allergies or are you on any medication we should know about?" Cass asked, and as if on cue her husband returned with a short list of prescriptions she was on, and they did not see anything out of the ordinary for a woman her age.