"It's the ambulance"

was the response.

It is perhaps a good thing I was actually awake and heading for the shower when there was an insistent banging on the door this morning. I had ignored the first knock. It was not quite six-thirty and I thought the noise must be something else. Then there was a second knock and I had to hastily make myself "decent" and, as they knocked a third time, I managed to get to the door and ask, "What is it?"

"It's the ambulance," a voice said. I opened the door (cautiously) and looked out. Yes, there was an ambulance officer. The other one, the male, was standing some distance back.

I could guess immediately who they were looking for and said, "You don't want me. It's the unit down there."

"You're not C....?" 

"No. She lives in that unit there."

"But this is the right number?" she asked and I explained about the numbering system. My unit is the same number within the units as the street number for everyone. It is confusing.

I know it is confusing because, more than once, there have been attempts to deliver alcohol to me...and that "breakfast" from the fast food place. The resident of that unit is an alcoholic. There is no kind way to describe it. This morning's episode should not have surprised me because someone attempted to deliver alcohol to my door last night. 

I said this to the ambulance officer. Perhaps I should not have said anything but I felt she had the right to know what they were going to. "I doubt it is an emergency," I told her, "I hope it isn't."

She gave me a resigned nod and a "Thanks for the info."

After they had gone I wondered what would have happened if I had not answered the door. Would they have tried to break in? Would they have called the police? I imagine the first thing they would have attempted to do is try to rouse me again. 

I can remember a similar incident years ago. One of the very elderly people I was keeping an eye on was not answering the door when the ambulance arrived. I was on my way to answer another "help" call early in the morning when I saw them. I stopped and opened the door for them with the key I had. I went on to the next house and dealt with the issue (flipping the mains switch so the power came back on) and then returned. 

"Taking her to hospital. Can you pack a bag for her?" I was told. 

It was an uncomfortably intrusive sort of thing to do but I found what she needed under her instructions. Later I wondered what would have happened if I had not stopped. 

There would have been nobody to do that for C... this morning. I suspect the bottle in the brown paper bag being delivered last night was "the hard stuff", spirits of some sort. I also suspect that the bottle would be close to empty this morning. 

If they emergency services had damaged my abode by breaking in I would feel angry, not with them but with her. As it is I just feel annoyed - and concerned.