In The Line of Duty

The Brussels Sprouts Incident

Recently, our Engine Two was called to the scene of a person choking. The MICU, or ambulance, was on the way as well, but the engine arrived a few minutes ahead of them, The first arriving firefighters found a frightening situation at the home of an older couple, where the wife was obviously in respiratory distress.

The lady was really choking. This person was turning blue but moving some air. With just a little assistance the food in her esophagus was dislodged. She coughed up a Brussels sprout and placed it on her plate. Throughout this, the husband seemed unconcerned. Perhaps he was just confident in our ability. After all, he was the one to call for assistance.

When the ambulance arrived, the engine crew had a conscious patient who was feeling much better. Part of our normal routine is to give the paramedics on the MICU a complete history of everything that occurred. There was only one problem. When we came to the part where we showed them exactly what she had choked on, the brussels sprout was not where the old lady had left it. Turning our gaze toward the old man sitting at the table we could see he was still chewing the last morsel of food he could steal from her plate.

The following was published in the same publication in 2003
Galls chose to title this story:

Over twenty years ago, when I was just starting my career as a firefighter, we were dispatched to a “bomb scare”. They were so rare in the small town I worked in at the time, that we conducted a search with military precision on every one. We were trained to look but never touch. We were told, “Do not touch ANYTHING.” “Do not move anything.” “Do not turn on any appliances or light fixtures.” Even keying our radios was considered a possible source for detonation.

On one “bomb threat,” to the town’s public library we lined up for the briefing. I had been a firefighter for a only month. This was my first call of this type. We were each given an area or direction to search. I was given the entrance way and the public restrooms. We went inside and the restrooms were immediately on the left.

When I entered the women’s bathroom I found myself in a foyer or entrance area. Unfortunately the light was off. Unknown to me, it was a large flood light, recessed in the lowered ceiling, just inches above my head. I naturally, instinctively, reached for the light switch. It was as though my eyes and hand had decided to ignore my brain which was still processing the instructions of “Do not turn on ANYTHING!” Even as my hand flipped the switch my brain was trying to stop it. But it was too late.

Remember, immediately above my head, recessed in a low ceiling, was a large, reflector type, flood light bulb. What I, to this day, do not understand, is why it picked that one moment in time, TO BURN OUT! The flipping of the switch with my brain still saying no, was accompanied by a loud pop and a flash of light as bright as a bolt of lightning. For an instant, I felt like I was Wylie Coyote with a bad “ACME Road Runner Explosion Kit”.

Needless to say, it was probably a good thing I was ALREADY in a bathroom.