When you work with a lot of different people, you are bound to meet someone that you just don’t gel with, and they can be a real pain. The secret is to not get mad, but get even. Just such a case happened to us one stormy summer evening.

It was Friday night, and the weather was foul. We had strong winds, heavy rain, and the lightning was illuminating the heavy, low cloud cover. Not the best type of weather to be driving around in, at night. It also turned out that it was not a night for flying helicopters in that type of weather either.

It was just before eleven o’clock in the night, with the rain still drumming on the room of the station, when we received a call from the coordination centre, asking us to go down to the NETS (Neonatal Emergency Transport Service) base, to drive the vehicle for the team.

We climbed into the ambulance, and headed down to the NETS base at Westmead hospital. As we arrived, there was a short reprieve from the rain, but the wind was still blowing a gale.

The nurse at the base informed us that we were going to be driving the team to Goulburn, one hundred and ninety kilometres away. When we pick up the baby, we’ll then be driving them to Canberra, another hundred kilometres away. All totalled, a six hundred kilometre round trip by the time we get back to station. Looks like we were going to be on overtime with this job.

Neither my partner, or I, was excited about the job, as it was going to be a very long shift. My partner at the time was undergoing radiation therapy for breast cancer, and was still working all of her shifts. She was an older woman, with a beautiful, giving nature, that we affectionately called Nanna. Bless her soul, may she rest in peace.

Anyway, we loaded the treatment pod into the NETS wagon, and the nurse and doctor came out to get into the vehicle.

The nurse, was a really easy going kind of guy, but the doctor was a very abrupt female who seemed to have her knickers in a knot over something, as she was curt with her conversation, and was happy to just direct as like a pair of lackeys. Me personally, I can deal with people like that in my own way, but what bothers me is the way she spoke to my partner. It immediately brought about dislike of her in me, as my partner was not deserving in any way of that tone.

Off we set, into the night, with the wind howling, leaves, branches and all sorts of debris was blowing across the road in front of us, and then the rain started again. When I say started, I actually meant bucketing down. Combined with the wind, it was fairly treacherous conditions.

The trip down to Goulburn was the same as when we started off, constant rain and wind, and the van was being buffeted constantly by huge gusts of wind. The doctor was in the back of the wagon, with the nurse, and she slept most of the way down there, while I drove.

Upon arrival at Goulburn, we off loaded the module from the van, so the baby could be transferred into it, and walked back out to the van, away from the doctor. We were going to have some time up our sleeve, as the baby was premature, and would require stabilisation before being loaded in for the transport to Canberra. I noticed that we were getting low on fuel, as the driver before us obviously had not refuelled the vehicle, as they should have, so we’d need to fill up for the trip to Canberra.

Fortunately, we knew where the local ambulance station was, because back in those days we refuelled on the ambulance station, not at a service station. We rolled up to the station, but unfortunately the local crew were out on a job, so we needed to ring the coordination centre to find where the key to the fuel bowser was located, to be able to unlock it. It took some time to find it, but we persevered, and eventually got the fuel we needed, and headed back to the hospital.

The arrival at the hospital, saw a very disgruntled doctor waiting for us in the casualty bay, as she had been waiting nearly five minutes for our return. She couldn’t see why it took us so long to refuel. It’s easy to make those judgements, when you have no idea of procedures I suppose, so I let it slide, gave an insincere apology, and we loaded the module with the baby, into the back of the van.

By this time, it was nearly five in the morning, and we were starting to get a bit frazzled around the edges.

So off we set, back onto the highway, and that was when the doctor dropped an unwelcome bombshell on me. She didn’t want me to drive over sixty kilometres an hour all the way to Canberra. Was she kidding. She almost doubled the trip time now with this request. Shit. Not happy. Any way, it was for the baby, so yeah OK.

It was around six thirty in the morning by the time we rolled into Canberra. The main task ahead of us now was simple, unload the module, wheel it into the paediatric ICU, the doctor and nurse give their handover, they transfer the baby over, pack up the gear, put the module back into van. Nothing too taxing.

Well we had put the module back into the van and it was now just hitting eight o’clock. We were really tired. We decided to go to the nurses station in the ICU, and ask if we could make a cup of tea and some toast in the meal room and have break before we headed back to Sydney three hundred kilometres away. There was no problem, and they even gave us some jam to put onto the toast. Legends!

Nanna and I had just made out tea and toast, and were putting our bums onto the seats, when in marched the doctor from NETS, and she directed us to go back to the van as she needed to get back. This is where I needed to say something. I politely informed her that we were having a short break before the drive, but no, she wouldn’t have that, she wanted to leave now.

I cannot put in print what I was really thinking about at this time, however, you might say it wasn’t very polite. I realised that diplomacy resolved more conflict, than not, so I politely gave her an ultimatum. I explained that we were both fatigued, and this was a required break for thirty minutes to freshen up. If she had concerns, then we would simply phone our coordination centre and tell them that we were too fatigued to drive back, as our shift had already finished over an hour ago. They would then arrange accommodation for my partner and I, leaving the nurse and herself to fend for themselves. The doctor could then either catch a train or bus back to Sydney.

She now had a choice, get off our backs while we had a well deserved

break, or catch a train back to Sydney. She then turned on her heel, and with a huff, walked out to wait in the van.

While this conversation was taking place, she was unaware of the nurse standing behind her in the corridor, with an ever widening grin on his face, as I laid the alternatives out to the doctor.

We were tired and getting really hungry as we left Canberra close to 9 am, as the toast did little to fill the void in our guts as we didn’t have an opportunity to have dinner during the night. So, I came up with a plan.

The doctor and the nurse were both in the back of the van, sitting beyond the module, on the rear seat. I gently nudged Nanna, and in a very quiet voice asked her if she was hungry, and wanted to stop over at Goulburn for some food on the way back, to which she replied yes. I then asked her to gently wake the nurse and ask him the same, but try not to wake the doctor. Nanna reached over the module, using the vinyl case sheet folder to reach him. After tapping him gently, she half whispered, half gesticulated the question to him, and he nodded yes, immediately understanding what we were up to.

Back then, the highway went through Goulburn, so as we came into the town, I slowed the van down slowly and carefully, trying to miss the pot holes, and coasted the van to halt at one of the roadside diners. I carefully applied the handbrake, so as to make no noise.

We carefully opened our doors, leaving them almost ajar, and I slowly cracked open the side door to let the nurse out. Job successful.

The three of us went inside the diner, and had a sit down breakfast, with tea and coffee. It was very welcome, on that we all agreed. The nurse asked what we were going to tell the doctor if she woke up, so I outlined my plan of action. We couldn’t stop laughing.

Having had our fill, we walked out to the van. I opened the side door with a bang, which woke the sleeping doctor.

She immediately woke up, and obviously thought we had arrived in Sydney, as she got up from the seat and stepped out of the van. It was a few seconds before she realised that we were not back in Sydney as she stared at the diner. The nurse casually got into the van, as did Nanna. The doctor looked straight at me with a stare that could cut stone, and asked what this was all about. I simply said, with a polite smile, that we were in Goulburn, and had just stopped for a sit down breakfast, and were now on our way back to Sydney.

I’m surprised that the side door of the van didn’t come off, with the force she closed it as she got in to the back again. She immediately threw herself into the corner of the seat, closed her eyes, and didn’t say another word, all the way back to Sydney.

I reckon, it took about two hundred kilometres for the smile to fade from my face. Nanna gave me a thumbs up.

The very moment the van came to a halt at the NETS base, the doctor was across the van, pulling the door open, and was off like a shot.

We said our goodbyes to the nurse after refuelling, and got back into our ambulance, and drove back to station. It was just turning one thirty in the afternoon, and we were supposed to be back at work at six PM. Fortunately, after seventeen and a half hours for the shift, our supervisor gave us the night off on pay. A good decision, as we were really tired.

Like I told Nanna, why get angry, when you can get even.