25 January, 2009. 12:36 PM.

Part 3 of 4

I go to breakfast, expecting Matt to be back sometime soon after. But he doesn’t come back, this time. He’s in his room, and apparently this is a BEMCo record of sorts. Twelve minutes from dispatch to write-up. I’m impressed. I finish my homework and clean my room while he gets some work done.

I head over to the Village around noon—he’s in his room, working on physics, and his roommate’s asleep. He takes his antibiotics and we go into the lounge to cuddle because his bed is covered in things. I’m exhausted, and he pets my head while explaining how a lockdown works (N95 respirators filter out small particles). I’m not looking forward to this week of classes—because he’s not sick anymore, I can’t even make up reasons to spend the night with him. A siren sounds from South Street, and an Armstrong ambulance drives by and we both smile with relief. I’m being silly and tired when his pager goes off for real.

He grabs his bag and heads out the door, realizing that he doesn’t have his phone. He runs off, and I run into a friend of his roommate on the path. The guy says that apparently someone’s sick, and I say that this is the third call in 24 hours, he says, “They must be really sick,” and I explain that it’s the third person, we don’t know about this individual case, and he says, “Well, he’s running pretty fast” and I say “He’s emergency medicine. He has to run.”

I see Matt running back towards us, smiling and saying that he’ll explain later. I figure he’s running to Ziv where there is a primary vehicle. Sure enough, when I get to the intersection with loop road, I hear the siren and see the BEMCo Expedition (I think that’s what it is, could be an Explorer, Google search results all look the same) driving by. Back in my dorm, I can hear non-BEMCo sirens, but I can’t see AMR or Waltham Fire yet. The call’s not far away, so I’d see them if they came.

It’s the small things that make me happy now—a half-hour here, an unripe mango there. The fact that he’s not as sick as he was earlier this week. Seeing him asleep on my couch. Even asleep on the floor outside my room.

I wonder if I’m cut out for this. I still think I’d want to be an EMT, but I just don’t know if--meh. I could do this. I think it’s scary to watch from the outside, but I could do it. I have plenty of time to be indecisive.