Dear Rutgers Chipie
By Steven P. Velasquez September 6, 2010 This past weekend, as you were doing your daddy-funded, weekend bar crawl, you had occasion to actually look at me and acknowledge my existence (a rarity). You see, more than likely, you do not who I am, what I do or how my existence is actually of benefit to you, while the inverse is untrue. I am a Paramedic. The truck you see me in is a Mobile Intensive Care Unit; some say “a hospital on wheels.” That may be a little extreme and I won’t debate semantics but I’ll say I bring a very specialized part of the healthcare system to your doorstep, your college dorm or whatever bar you finally pass out in during your parentally unsupervised stay in my town. My partner and I were parked in an empty lot when two of your fellow school mates lacked the intelligence to resolve their differences verbally. As they removed their shirts and assumed a combat stance, you looked to us in despair wondering if we were going to spring into action and save the day...