At the time, I worked for Hunter Ambulance, doing non-emergent transports primarily. I was assigned to a call for doctor's appointment at the local veteran's nursing home and it was there that I met "the general". He was in a wheel chair, perfect high and tight haircut, with two flags on the handles of his wheelchair. The nurse told me, "good luck getting him to go, he keeps refusing."
I approached him with a little apprehension, he seemed pissed off and disinterested in being transported for his MRI. This is how the conversation went:
Me: Hello sir, how are you today.
Him: Oh great, another damn ambulance. Are you as stupid as the last idiots they sent?
Me: I certainly hope not.
Him (with a slight grin): Well you're more clever. Let me ask you this (pointing to the US Flag). What flag is that?
Me (confused): The...American flag.
Him: Oh thank God the last dumb !@#$ that tried to take me out of here thought it was Puerto Rican.
I chuckled
Him: Now, for the real test. (Pointing to the Marine general flag). What's that one?
Me: Well, if it's yours, it means you're a 2-star general. I actually can't remember the difference between the Marine and Army version, though.
Him (beaming smile): Hot damn, young lady, you win the prize. The dumb !@#$ I mentioned thought it was from Texas. It is a Marine flag, my dear, and now I will go with you.
We start wheeling him down the hallway. The nurse looks at us baffled. My partner had been getting paperwork and missed the exchanged. As we walk, the conversation continued.
Him: You know what sucks?
Me: A lot of stuff.
Him (laughing): I like you.... What sucks is that three months ago I was commanding thousands of Marines, and now I can't even control my own pee. Strokes are more evil than the damn Iraqi's.
Me: Wow!
Him: Don't ever have a stroke.
Me: I will try not to.
Him: Good.
As the trip progressed, he told me of the passing of his wife, his two sons who were Marine officers, and his daughter who was a NYPD Cop. He was genuinely proud of his life and his family. He told me of his military career, the places he'd been over time, and the best thing, he said, was "my Marines". The thing that made me enjoy this call so much was his candor. We delivered him to his MRI, and he requested us for the return trip.
That day, he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, which had metastasized to several other organs. He resolved that, "If I can win wars overseas, hell if I don't wage war on this crap". We took him to almost all of his radiation appointments, with him requesting me and my partner. He refused other crews twice, and waited for us to arrive. One day I called out sick and my partner showed up with another person. The general had my partner call me so he would have someone to talk to. Over the months that followed, I saw him three days a week. Every day, he had a huge smile when I walked in. He met us at the elevators most days.
One morning, we were having breakfast and were sent code 3 to the veteran's home. The call came in as a cardiac arrest. It was his room, and when we arrived, the nurse met us at the door. There he was, clutching hands folded on his belly, having died overnight. He had clearly straightened up his room, in perfect order.
I walked from the room crying, never realizing how much he had affected me. He taught me the meaning of dignity, even in illness and the importance of maintaining one's pride at any cost. When I went to his services, I was stopped by one of his sons, and he said "You must be the ambulance driver he talked about. He thought you were a breath of fresh air." It made me happy to know I changed him too.
RIP Major General!
