The call comes from the station. A fellow officer, a sergeant actually, had gone to the emergency room with severe chest pains. He drove himself to the hospital while on patrol so it must have been fearful enough that he didn't call anybody, not even the dispatcher.
It took twenty minutes to drive two miles. Crappy weather, crappy road conditions, crappy thoughts. Most of the officers in the unit are veterans. That means years of street food, stress, and less than healthy lifestyles. Perfect heart attack conditions.
There were three of the guys at the E.R. already. Big city coppers. All ready for bad news.
"No wallet" says one. "Did you check his socks?" replied another. "He usually carries a "choke" on him somewhere. Didja see a money belt?" The third is writing "colonoscopy" on the status board next to the bed.
The ailing sergeant, awake and alert, laughs. "You guys are EFFIN vultures" "I ain't going anywhere!"
In the hard, cynical, and macho police world coppers won't admit they truly care about each other so they break the tension with their own unique humor.
The fates were smiling that day too. It wasn't a heart attack but it provided a wake up call for some of the guys.
Life's short enough as it is. Get healthy and stay healthy. Spend a little money on healthier food choices. Get some exercise.
You don't want some copper looking through YOUR clothes for that "choke" do you?