It was Tuesday. I was working the day watch in Child Delivery and Trial Practice; East Memphis Precinct. The boss is Comandante Mom. My partner is Zachary. We had left the Memphis station house at 0715 a.m., and we then proceeded to our first drop. It was a cold, bright, crisp morning. The kind is rarely seen in Memphis. As I watched Zach enter point Middle School, I realized that I was on solo patrol. The very thought of it made my blood run cold with anticipation. Sweat began to bead on my forehead as I ran through the rules of engagement for the rest of the watch:
Proceed from initiation point Alpha to the Downtown Precinct. Once there gather the needed equipment for a forced entry at the Department of Safety. Then proceed to point Bravo for a deposition exercise. The final leg of today’s patrol was the dangerous and minefield laced route I-240 back to East Precinct. An orderly and well-planned mission, it was. But, it was not to be.
After departing point MS in route to Point Alpha, I slowed my brand spanking new MX-5 for a convoy of HumVee Mom’s to pass. I felt a sudden stiff jolt from behind. Once I assured myself that it was not an RPG, I turned and saw that another vehicle, code name Zulu, had struck me from behind. I pulled onto a side trail, fully expecting Zulu to follow me so that we could exchange classified indemnity information. To my shock and awe, Zulu sped from the scene without exchanging international recognition codes.
Pulling my self together, I followed Zulu in hot pursuit until I could visually confirm Zulu’s license plate number; a journey of some three clicks. I then discontinued pursuit and signaled the M.P.’s for assistance.
Matias, I waited for the cops. My neck, low back, and shoulders began to ache. The pain started to shoot down my left arm. After completing my rendezvous with the Military Police, I proceeded to the nearest MASH unit for treatment. The MASH (BHMEC) saw me with dispatch and prescribed medications for a sprained neck and muscle spasms which were to be filled at my local drug care provider. Subsequently, after having turned in the script for fulfillment, I returned to Station Walgreen’s to collect my ration.
Following 72 minutes of further investigation, it was learned that a. MASH had prescribed appropriate medications for my injuries, but the prescription as written was not in my name; b. Station Walgreen’s had filled the medical order correctly but in the wrong name. This error resulted in the personnel at Station W being unable to locate my ration. The results of this operation are summarized as follows:
1. There is at least one driver in Memphis being sought by the MPD for leaving the scene of an accident.
2. My MX-5 is not intended to be smashed from behind.
3. The most well-trained MASH can put the wrong patient ID sticker on a prescription.
4. Miss-identifying, a patient on powerful drugs, can cause further injuries to the patient, or worse.
5. Memphis Injury Lawyer has days when he should have stayed in bed.
Over and Out.