Obviously, you shouldn’t read this if you are easily grossed out, or are offended by the mundanity of death.
Slowly I learned that he went to the same College as me and we went for a walk together. ”And before I knew it, he was pressing me gently against a large tree, kissing me like he had never kissed anyone before while he unbuttoned my shirt as I took off his jacket. Soon enough we were both stark naked, massaging each other’s body, pressing our warm bodies together, kissing, moaning, panting in exhaustion.
We ended up walking into nearby woods and he was such a sweet and good looking guy. We were so caught up in looking at each other and talking to each other that we didn’t even know each other’s names. And soon enough we were having bareback sex in the middle of a forest when we had met not even an hour before.
According to Alan, EMS [Emergency Medical Services] is wild and imperfect.
Just like our patients, it’s dangerous and a little mad and possibly contagious.
Personally, I like knowing about everyday things, and sometimes everyday things involve, to steal a phrase from the author, piss and needles.
If you would like to know a little more, rather than a little less, about the world, this would be a good book to read.
Alan regards the job as a throwback to nineteenth-century house-call medicine—patients don’t come to us, he says, we go to them, and where and how we find them, well, that, too, is part of the story.
Fresh Air from WHYY, the Peabody Award-winning weekday magazine of contemporary arts and issues, is one of public radio's most popular programs.
It is short enough to read in one sitting, and the writing is excellent.
And, despite some bodily fluids, it didn’t feel gratuitous.
Hosted by Terry Gross, the show features intimate conversations with today's biggest luminaries.