I’m Facebook-friends with one of the St. Vincent’s paramedics who saved my life back in 1993. (The story is here.) He posted this video. It is awesome. The closure of this hospital is a huge loss to downtown and to all of New York City.
The head paramedic who saved me — who was delightful, and whose name I am sick to realize I do not remember — is on the far right at the 40-second mark. How can I have forgotten his name?
I used to bring the paramedics’ office cookies every Christmas. Then I moved to San Francisco for a while, then back to NYC, and I fell out of touch with the guys who’d saved me. The city and I are both very different now than in 1993. Sometimes when I get melodramatic about dopey things, I realize I should probably just chill the fuck out, because after all, I am not dead. I have a husband I love, two children I adore, a life. As Jane Kenyon pointed out, it might have been otherwise.
Thank you, St. Vincent’s.