Chapter Thirteen in “Decades with the Squad,” by my late father, William Palmer Jervey, Jr.

The central figure in this one could be quite a few different people. Getting hooked into hauling someone to the hospital who doesn’t need an ambulance is an ever-present possibility.

Under the law we are not required to respond to any call. It is purely voluntary. Once we have responded, however, we do become implicated, and may be charged with abandonment if we leave the patient without turning him over to someone of an equal or greater level of training. Even if you know they don’t need you, they can have a heart attack (real or staged) five minutes after you leave. The safest procedure is to see it through despite any level of justification to do otherwise.

I recall one such case and will go to my grave convinced that the old rascal did not need an ambulance any more than I did.

When we entered the bedroom, he was comfortably propped up on two pillows with his fingers laced together behind his head. As we entered he favored us with a triumphant smile. Resisting an urge to yell, “Fire!” we loaded him up and took him to the hospital.

Coming home, my companion broke the silence with this remark:

“When he smiled, I knew we’d been had!”