If this story gets posted, I will post a photo of the award in the comments, because this story is going to sound rather unbelievable. 

In 2017, I was awarded the Top Cop award through ASIS Hawaii for saving the life of the property manager on my site. The wording on the award is “Supervisor [Name] demonstrated composure and professionalism during this quickly escalating medical situation.” 

Let me tell you… it was… not easy.

So, my property manager and I were locating and mapping water valves. The property we were on was former military, a valley in central Oahu housing old bunkers from WWII. People in Hawaii reading this story might be familiar with the name “Lualualei” in Waianae, but this property was the Lualualei Naval Annex from… as far as we can tell… the 1930s to the 1990s. 

With no good maps of the original, or even the added infrastructure, my manager and I were no strangers to hacking our way through the forests, exploring abandoned buildings and doing things WAY outside of our job descriptions, but both of us loved it. We were both the outdoors type; we had both been bitten, stung, and injured on this site, and I was operating way outside of the boundaries of my actual position as the head of security.

This time was different; this time my property manager got stung in the head by a paper wasp. After he got stung, we gave up for the day; it was still rather early, I hadn’t even collected the patrol vehicle yet, and we had been driving around in our personal cars. We went down to the office of our largest tenant and got drinks, sat down and started talking to them, and then things got WILD.

The manager started wobbling on his feet; he couldn’t quite stand up straight anymore. I immediately went to phone EMS, but he had an insurance plan through a provider that only provides service at their own hospitals and clinics. He told me no; the closest location of that provider, Kaiser, was less than fifteen minutes away. As he seemed mostly okay, I packed him into my car and drove. 

On the way to Kaiser, he started to fade in and out of consciousness, though he kept a solid handle on the situation somehow. Still, I hammered the gas, rolling through the town at about ten over until we pulled into Kaiser’s driveway. I stopped in front of the doors and ran inside.

Me: “We need help!”

Kaiser Employee: “We don’t have an emergency room here… sorry.”

Me: “But we need help! He’s losing consciousness; I think he’s having trouble breathing.

Kaiser Employee: “And I said we don’t have an emer—”

I ran back outside before she could finish. The bad thing is that, in order to get to this Kaiser, we had driven the opposite direction of the main area hospital, Queens West Oahu.

Manager: “What happened, why are we moving again?”

Me: “No emergency room, I’m going to Wahiawa General, it’s closest now.”

Manager: “I’m going to call an ambulance…”

I started driving while he dialed 911; he started filling dispatch in on what was happening, and as we approached the freeway and got stopped by a red light, it sounded as if they were going to send an ambulance out to our location. As we were arranging it…boop, boop, boop call failed…

That was it; I ran the red light and throttled onto the I-H2 North at criminal speeds, hoping that a police officer would see me, but of course…the one time you need them to be there…there are no speed traps.

We pulled into Wahiawa General Hospital hot, and I jumped out and managed to get him into the building.

Me: “HELP! He got stung; he can’t breathe! I think he’s having a severe allergic reaction!

Desk Worker: “Oh hello, we can help with that.” *She pushes a clipboard across the desk.* “Can you please have him fill this out?”

Me: “HE CAN’T B-R-E-A-T-H-E!”

Desk Worker: “Oh! OH!”

She hit a button, triggering a code throughout the hospital, and the room flooded with employees. My manager was taken away, and I finally had a chance to sit down, totally forgetting that my car was sitting outside, partially on the sidewalk, running with two doors open.

They ended up administering epinephrine, and he was back to normal in about an hour to an hour and a half.

Security also came in to ask about the steaming, 2013 Mazda 2 outside violating multiple parking rules, but I suppose this kind of thing was normal because, once I explained the situation, they moved the car for me and gave me back my keys. I would also find out later that the rear license plate had flown off somewhere en route, necessitating moving the front plate to the back for a little while, even though it didn’t have a registration tab on it.

Anyway, three hours later we were at Chili’s talking about the day. 

By far the craziest thing I’ve ever been part of.

I filed a massive complaint with Kaiser, because 100% that clinic could have helped. They said “They’d discuss it with the location,” but also emphasized that it is “known” that that location does not have an ER and encouraged me to utilize ambulance services or visit Queens West in the future.

911 dispatch never tried to call us back as they do now. Not sure what happened there.

A woman practically runs into the ER, claiming she’s in great pain and in need of a doctor immediately. I try to get some information out of her, but all I get is:

Woman: “It hurts! It hurts so bad!” 

She’s holding her stomach as she shouts this, writhing around in pain. I call a nurse over, who rushes over just in time to see this woman sit down on the floor, apparently in agony.

The nurse has called over some others to help her, when all of a sudden:

Woman: “Pffffffffffttttttttph.”

It remains, to this day, the loudest, longest, most acoustic fart I have ever heard in my entire life. It still astounds me that such a level of decibels could come from this tiny-framed woman.

 After that, she looks calmer and stands up, apparently pain-free.

Woman: “Huh… I guess I’m okay.”

She walks out like it’s nothing, leaving a bunch of nurses and me standing there going, “Did that just happen?”

I’m working the intake desk at the hospital ER. A guy walks up wearing a raccoon onesie/hoodie. He has blood on his face coming from a gash on his forehead. He is wearing an eyepatch that says ‘cheese’ four times on it. It is not currently covering any of his eyes, both of which seem to be working. One of his hands is covered in blue ink. Slung around his shoulder is a pink accordion on a strap.

Patient: “Now, I know what this looks like…”

Readers, I did not know what this looked like.

I was in Accident & Emergency. From a curtained-off cubicle, I could hear some commotion and a doctor with a thick Russian accent who introduced himself.

Doctor: “Hello! I am Doctor Dave.”

Shortly after that, I heard Doctor Dave proclaim (again, with the thick Russian accent):

Doctor: “NO TIME FOR GLOVE!”

Related:
Family Of Boris Goes Tech
When Boris Runs Trivia Night
If You Don’t Get Hint, Boris Bounce You!
In Soviet Russia, Accent Speaks You
Doris, Archenemy Of Boris, Orders A Footlong

It was Christmas Eve, so all of the walk-in clinics and doctor’s offices were closed — everything but the emergency room. I had hurt myself at work and had to be that person who goes to the ER for a doctor’s note excusing me from my job until I could get the injury taken care of; there was no way I could work with it. I was left in the waiting room for quite a while while they took care of the more urgent cases, so my dad and I were people-watching. 

Most people were pretty calm and resigned to the purgatory that is the waiting room. That is, except for one gentleman, roughly thirty-five years of age, who would agitatedly stomp around the room before approaching the receptionist demanding she get him a bed. Each time, she politely directed him to take a seat. This happened a few more times before he finally gave a scream of frustration and stomped out of the ER.

His wife got up to follow him, stopped to apologize to the receptionist, and calmly announced:

Woman: “It’s my husband’s first time trying edibles. He’s not handling it so well.”

Then, she left to take him home.

Dad and I looked at each other and chuckled, and the quiet of the waiting room was uninterrupted again.