I’ll begin by stating that I’ve been a paramedic for nearly six years, spending all of that time in Ontario, Canada. For the most part, the job’s been relatively textbook. Not to say it wasn’t brutal, as I’ve experienced plenty of bullet holes, knife wounds, and burn victims. The job of a paramedic is to stabilise an injured persons’ condition, to make sure they’re able to arrive at a hospital, and receive proper treatment, before death, so we see plenty of gruesome sights. However, the experience I’m about to share with you was in a league of it’s own.
Mid way through 2015. I was working the “night shift,” if you could call it that, in a small district of Ontario. At our dispatch, there were a total of twenty three of us working, waiting for the tell-tale call to action. Usually, there are two paramedics in an ambulance, unless multiple people are hurt or injured. When I got the instruction to head out, me and my partner, we’ll call him Mike, climbed into the back of the ambulance. The call was placed at [2:13] AM, and we left two minutes after. From the vague description, a man was mauled by what he said was “a bear, but bigger and faster.” He was on a residential street, at least a few blocks away from any wooded area large enough to support a bear, so we found it strange that he referenced the animal.
When we arrived on site, something was already “off.” The air had a very heavy coppery, or ozone scent to it, like right before a massive thunderstorm. It almost induced vomiting, it was that bad. Me and Mike exited the emergency vehicle. Upon glancing down the street, we saw the man who placed the call. He was lying on his stomach, arms and legs outstretched, with his face down, directly on the asphalt of the street. What was odd was, on this small suburban block, all the streetlights were out, aside from the one directly above the man. We quickly approached him, all the while, the copper smell getting stronger, and Mike asked him the basic questions. “Sir, were you the one who called 911? Sir, can you show us where you’ve attacked?” When we got within a few feet of him, he started making this odd noise. “Jittering” is how I would describe it. It was a really odd site. With his face flat on the asphalt, he was just jittering.
Read more “It wasn’t a bear”