Peter: Don’t miss the point

The police come bursting through the double doors. ‘Careful with this one love, you might want to remove all flammable objects from the area!’ joked the first uniformed officer. They were referring to the fact alcohol could be smelt emanating from the person on the ambulance trolley before I could even see them. The trolley was being pushed by two ambulance crew in their bright-yellow fluorescent jackets. The blue flashing lights of the ambulance, mixed with the police car headlights in the background, were a distraction at first until my line of sight caught a blood-splattered head, matted with hair just visible beneath the thin blanket. It was 3am on a Wednesday morning in January in the emergency department (ED). This was no weekend partygoer having had one too many, I thought to myself.