The young girl fell in front of me, just as my arm did. “No.” I said. “What have i done.” I dropped the knife. The cell phone lay on the side walk still. I grabbed it and made my call. “The girl! The girl is hurt!” I screamed through my tears.
That’s where they lay him. The rectangle of cushioned insanity. The stretcher. They put him down to die, at least a part of him. The strange sounds of his mind went to die there.
This makes me think of being in the hospital. And I just went to the doctors this morning so it couldn’t be any more fitting. They pricked my finger and that was nice, and then they gave me a shot that made me almost pass out and that was also nice. I hope I don’t have to go back there for a while. I really hate being in those small rooms, even though each one has a theme.
Some go out. Some go in. Some leave. Some don’t. Hospitals aren’t my kind of thing. There’s so much life-defining things going in the midst of all the chaos. I tend to avoid them as often as I can. La dee da in my own ignorance. Smart? No. Happy? I believe so.
I am from México so I don’t really know what stretcher means. I am just kind of practicing here and trying some new pages to be inspired by. In fact I had to correct it because I wrote it wrong the first time
Someone who can stretch the words, make them longer. A liar.
Stretch the truth.
Bend the rules.
Stretch.
Stretching feels good. Yoga is stretching.
You can lie on a stretcher. But lying is also when you stretch the meanings of things.
Carried out on a thin piece of fabric, tied tightly to two oppressive beams the young man is screaming. Trying to writhe his way out of his confinement- though whether mental or physical noone knows.He is schizophrenic, severely so, and these people are saving him from an imagined fire set by imagined arsonists in an imagined home. This man is homeless because of the stigma attached to mental health. He quit therapy because he wouldn’t get a job if they knew about it. Think.
What? I didn’t see the word. Oh well I guess I’ll execute the best explanation I can. It’s hard to write about absolutely nothing, but that’s what most writers do, isn’t it? Maybe that’s what makes them so famous. They should write how most people talk. asl;gkasdhsd.
She was pale and most of her wounds had been temporarily patched up. They lifted her onto it and I tried to follow. I was held back, my fingertips millimeters away from touching her whitened face.
The stretcher lay on the ground. Not soft and padded, he thought, just a thin piece of material over hard, unyielding pavement. It couldn’t possibly be comfortable. But then, it probably didn’t need to be. The fellow lying on it wouldn’t notice such a slight discomfort when he was in such agonizing pain.
Bolin’s head rang and he could hear the rattled sounds of his own breathing. His brother’s face swam into view, but the bright white lights flooded him out and left Bolin in a void.
They carry people away on stretchers … injured people. Sometimes after an accident. Sometimes after what they call an accident, only it’s really the work of someone purposefully. When they carry someone away on a stretcher, they carry fragile hope with them as well. It’s up to those carrying the stretcher to make sure the person on it lives to get off it.
Bring her in boys. Careful, careful! Geez, have you never handled a trauma patient? You new or something? That’s it. There you go! That’s how you handle it. Now come on. Got to make sure they live.
He loaded the girl onto the strecher, letting her charred hair fall over the side. The burns covered most of her torso and climbed up onto her face. There was little chance that she would make it.
he lies down on his back on the stretcher, lifts his arms lazily above his head as he watches the crystal clear blue sky. he finds himself relaxing easily, the sunlight stretching all around him. the past couple of days have been hard, but they’re worth it for the pleasure of a long earned rest.
i’ve seen a boy carried on a strecher by two men !!! and he looked pretty woonded they said he hurt his head and lost a lot of blood !!! i felt so sorry for him, he was cute
For Some Reason, It Was On a Stretcher,
Which Was Strange Because it Was Hardly a Human Yet.
I Knew, From the Vivid Colors and Birds-Eye View
That This Was Only a Dream;
But That Didn’t Keep the Pain Away.
I Watched as the Two Men in Their White Suits
Wheel the Stretcher Away
And I Cried Into the Chest of a Man
That I Had Never Met Before
And Yet Somehow Knew.
“We’ll Try Again.” He Whispered,
Clutching Me Tighter.
But Something Told Me
That it Was Hopeless,
That Anything That Ever Lived Inside of Me
Was Going to Shrivel Up and Die.
I Woke Up, Sweating.
It Wasn’t the Image of That Small, Crippled, Almost-Human Form
That Made My Heart Pound With Fear,
Though That Was Part of it.
It Was the Thought,
Purely the Thought
That When I Got Older
There Was the Chance
That I’d Never Have a Baby,
Never Look at a Small Human
And See My Face,
Never Be Able to Love Somebody
That Would Look Up to Me.
A stretcher is a man who stretches his body all day long…He usually streches when he wakes up and then after brushing his teeth.Maybe he continues streching when he works or when he drives his car…To be a strecher means you are rich and wealthy because streching is for rich people.It is connect with laziness and rich people are often lazy.I mean, the families of the rich…Because the man of a rich family couldn’t be possible to be a strecher because you can’t be lazy for making money…
It all happened so fast. The car was there one second, and gone the next. Cliche, I know, but It’s riveting how it all happened. The images flashed throughout my mind like a gif from some teenage girls tumblr page. Before I knew it the ambulance had already arrived. Five, actually. Everything was so hectic; traffic was insane, the police and firetrucks were everywhere. I took one of the ambulances into my line of vision; they pulled out three stretchers; holy shit, I thought to myself. Did i really just witness this? As I got entangled within my thoughts, a police officer scared the living shit out of me by knocking on my window, gesturing for me to roll it down.
He came out on a stretcher. I hadn’t ever seen anyone actually on a stretcher before. Like in real life. I’d only ever seen them in the movies or TV, but there he was. Stretched out on a stretcher. Unable to move. Unable to walk or limp or carry his body somewhere safe.
They pulled her up from the tub, and onto the stretcher as she got carted away from her home. The paramedics were at a loss for words at how contorted Emily was from the accident in her bathroom. “Do you think she’ll make it?” The paramedic cried to the driver. “Time will tell, time will tell.” The driver responded as he took the corner towards the hospital.
The stretcher scarcely managed to support him, not because of his weight so much as where it was distributed. His pieces and parts were pulled out in a disgustingly didactic display of anatomy, which threatened with every step to spill over the edges and back onto the ground from whence they’d originally been gathered.
They pulled her onto the stretcher as she got carted away from her home. The paramedics were at a loss for words at how contorted Emily was from the accident in her home. “Do you think she’ll make it?” The paramedic said to the driver. “Time will tell, time will tell.” The driver responded as he took the corner towards the hospital.
They strapped Kyle into the stretcher and I watched. I watched like it meant something. I watched like I was helping somehow because there wasn’t anything else that I could do but watch. I got into the ambulance with him and I sat by his side and I watched him more. When they brought him into the hospital I sat in the waiting room and I watched the long hall they shelled him down until they told me I could go and see him. When I went into his room he was awake again. I looked at him in disbelief. I didn’t think I would ever see him functioning again.
The girl layed on the stretcher. Her eyes were watering and she gasped when the medic touched her leg, she gasped because she couldn’t feel his hand. Nothing. She saw the hand but felt no weight, no pressure. He spoke to her but she didn’t respond.
“this is a real stretcher” she said, pointing to the EMC’s using it to bring her grandmother to the ambulance. They didn’t know that Lucy had a problem with lucid dreaming and didn’t know what was real or not.
They put me on a stretcher…and took me, I know not where. I looked around because that is all that i could move and I saw earth fade into stars and suddenly I was left with the awareness…i was going home.
Long rows of beds… the smell of blood and bleach stinging my nose, my throat. Quiet groans of the wounded, the dying, the hopeless. Quiet sounds of desperation. It was my job, among other things, to quiet them, to comfort the soldiers in their final hour. Every other minute, it seemed, a new stretcher was lowered, another bed filled, another life slipped away. It was my job, my job… and they had done their jobs, too.
For the first time in my life, I was being brought for medical care. I was on a stretcher, being hoisted into an ambulance by the time I came to. Blood blacked out the vision in one of my eyes. I tried to sit up, before a heavy hand pushed me back down.
I never imagined I would be hauled away on a stretcher on a night like this. I peered into the blood orange sky before me. It was as if I was descending into some other world. The pain wasn’t so bad as the sun set and I drifted away listening to the mumbling of anxious doctors.
I looked up into the cloudy sky. It was orange with streaks of red. The doctors were mumbling something, but I was focusing on the sunset colors of the sky in front of me. I never thought I would be hauled off on a stretcher in this way.
She lay flat on the stretcher gazing at his muscular body , ‘Here I am.” she thought, You can take me home if you want . The stretcher was slipped carefully into the back of the ambulance as she drifted off into a peaceful slumber.
I saw my grandfather
he was being rolled away
away from life, me, and my whole family
I didn’t know what to think
I crashed onto the ground
I thought the world had stopped
I wanted to get off
I wanted to leave the Earth in his place
I deserve to leave more than him
My grandfather doesn’t deserve to die so publically on a stretcher
The young girl fell in front of me, just as my arm did. “No.” I said. “What have i done.” I dropped the knife. The cell phone lay on the side walk still. I grabbed it and made my call. “The girl! The girl is hurt!” I screamed through my tears.
That’s where they lay him. The rectangle of cushioned insanity. The stretcher. They put him down to die, at least a part of him. The strange sounds of his mind went to die there.
This makes me think of being in the hospital. And I just went to the doctors this morning so it couldn’t be any more fitting. They pricked my finger and that was nice, and then they gave me a shot that made me almost pass out and that was also nice. I hope I don’t have to go back there for a while. I really hate being in those small rooms, even though each one has a theme.
Some go out. Some go in. Some leave. Some don’t. Hospitals aren’t my kind of thing. There’s so much life-defining things going in the midst of all the chaos. I tend to avoid them as often as I can. La dee da in my own ignorance. Smart? No. Happy? I believe so.
I am from México so I don’t really know what stretcher means. I am just kind of practicing here and trying some new pages to be inspired by. In fact I had to correct it because I wrote it wrong the first time
Someone who can stretch the words, make them longer. A liar.
Stretch the truth.
Bend the rules.
Stretch.
Stretching feels good. Yoga is stretching.
You can lie on a stretcher. But lying is also when you stretch the meanings of things.
Stretcher. Every time I hear that word it takes me back..
Back to the fire.
My uncle,whom I lived with was a fireman. A brave one.
He died saving some old lady.
Now every time I hear that word,I picture my uncle, his charred remains lying on a stretcher.
Carried out on a thin piece of fabric, tied tightly to two oppressive beams the young man is screaming. Trying to writhe his way out of his confinement- though whether mental or physical noone knows.He is schizophrenic, severely so, and these people are saving him from an imagined fire set by imagined arsonists in an imagined home. This man is homeless because of the stigma attached to mental health. He quit therapy because he wouldn’t get a job if they knew about it. Think.
A temporary bed, a way to carry the injured about without hurting them more. A sign that safety is coming closer.
What? I didn’t see the word. Oh well I guess I’ll execute the best explanation I can. It’s hard to write about absolutely nothing, but that’s what most writers do, isn’t it? Maybe that’s what makes them so famous. They should write how most people talk. asl;gkasdhsd.
She was pale and most of her wounds had been temporarily patched up. They lifted her onto it and I tried to follow. I was held back, my fingertips millimeters away from touching her whitened face.
The stretcher lay on the ground. Not soft and padded, he thought, just a thin piece of material over hard, unyielding pavement. It couldn’t possibly be comfortable. But then, it probably didn’t need to be. The fellow lying on it wouldn’t notice such a slight discomfort when he was in such agonizing pain.
Bolin’s head rang and he could hear the rattled sounds of his own breathing. His brother’s face swam into view, but the bright white lights flooded him out and left Bolin in a void.
They carry people away on stretchers … injured people. Sometimes after an accident. Sometimes after what they call an accident, only it’s really the work of someone purposefully. When they carry someone away on a stretcher, they carry fragile hope with them as well. It’s up to those carrying the stretcher to make sure the person on it lives to get off it.
Bring her in boys. Careful, careful! Geez, have you never handled a trauma patient? You new or something? That’s it. There you go! That’s how you handle it. Now come on. Got to make sure they live.
He loaded the girl onto the strecher, letting her charred hair fall over the side. The burns covered most of her torso and climbed up onto her face. There was little chance that she would make it.
he lies down on his back on the stretcher, lifts his arms lazily above his head as he watches the crystal clear blue sky. he finds himself relaxing easily, the sunlight stretching all around him. the past couple of days have been hard, but they’re worth it for the pleasure of a long earned rest.
gurney used to take people to hospital
i’ve seen a boy carried on a strecher by two men !!! and he looked pretty woonded they said he hurt his head and lost a lot of blood !!! i felt so sorry for him, he was cute
For Some Reason, It Was On a Stretcher,
Which Was Strange Because it Was Hardly a Human Yet.
I Knew, From the Vivid Colors and Birds-Eye View
That This Was Only a Dream;
But That Didn’t Keep the Pain Away.
I Watched as the Two Men in Their White Suits
Wheel the Stretcher Away
And I Cried Into the Chest of a Man
That I Had Never Met Before
And Yet Somehow Knew.
“We’ll Try Again.” He Whispered,
Clutching Me Tighter.
But Something Told Me
That it Was Hopeless,
That Anything That Ever Lived Inside of Me
Was Going to Shrivel Up and Die.
I Woke Up, Sweating.
It Wasn’t the Image of That Small, Crippled, Almost-Human Form
That Made My Heart Pound With Fear,
Though That Was Part of it.
It Was the Thought,
Purely the Thought
That When I Got Older
There Was the Chance
That I’d Never Have a Baby,
Never Look at a Small Human
And See My Face,
Never Be Able to Love Somebody
That Would Look Up to Me.
I Am So Frightened For My Future…
er
hospital
bed
pain
down
rush
panic
emergency
ambulance
emts
pool
ivs
wheeled
A stretcher is a man who stretches his body all day long…He usually streches when he wakes up and then after brushing his teeth.Maybe he continues streching when he works or when he drives his car…To be a strecher means you are rich and wealthy because streching is for rich people.It is connect with laziness and rich people are often lazy.I mean, the families of the rich…Because the man of a rich family couldn’t be possible to be a strecher because you can’t be lazy for making money…
It all happened so fast. The car was there one second, and gone the next. Cliche, I know, but It’s riveting how it all happened. The images flashed throughout my mind like a gif from some teenage girls tumblr page. Before I knew it the ambulance had already arrived. Five, actually. Everything was so hectic; traffic was insane, the police and firetrucks were everywhere. I took one of the ambulances into my line of vision; they pulled out three stretchers; holy shit, I thought to myself. Did i really just witness this? As I got entangled within my thoughts, a police officer scared the living shit out of me by knocking on my window, gesturing for me to roll it down.
He came out on a stretcher. I hadn’t ever seen anyone actually on a stretcher before. Like in real life. I’d only ever seen them in the movies or TV, but there he was. Stretched out on a stretcher. Unable to move. Unable to walk or limp or carry his body somewhere safe.
They pulled her up from the tub, and onto the stretcher as she got carted away from her home. The paramedics were at a loss for words at how contorted Emily was from the accident in her bathroom. “Do you think she’ll make it?” The paramedic cried to the driver. “Time will tell, time will tell.” The driver responded as he took the corner towards the hospital.
The stretcher scarcely managed to support him, not because of his weight so much as where it was distributed. His pieces and parts were pulled out in a disgustingly didactic display of anatomy, which threatened with every step to spill over the edges and back onto the ground from whence they’d originally been gathered.
They pulled her onto the stretcher as she got carted away from her home. The paramedics were at a loss for words at how contorted Emily was from the accident in her home. “Do you think she’ll make it?” The paramedic said to the driver. “Time will tell, time will tell.” The driver responded as he took the corner towards the hospital.
They strapped Kyle into the stretcher and I watched. I watched like it meant something. I watched like I was helping somehow because there wasn’t anything else that I could do but watch. I got into the ambulance with him and I sat by his side and I watched him more. When they brought him into the hospital I sat in the waiting room and I watched the long hall they shelled him down until they told me I could go and see him. When I went into his room he was awake again. I looked at him in disbelief. I didn’t think I would ever see him functioning again.
The girl layed on the stretcher. Her eyes were watering and she gasped when the medic touched her leg, she gasped because she couldn’t feel his hand. Nothing. She saw the hand but felt no weight, no pressure. He spoke to her but she didn’t respond.
“this is a real stretcher” she said, pointing to the EMC’s using it to bring her grandmother to the ambulance. They didn’t know that Lucy had a problem with lucid dreaming and didn’t know what was real or not.
They put me on a stretcher…and took me, I know not where. I looked around because that is all that i could move and I saw earth fade into stars and suddenly I was left with the awareness…i was going home.
Long rows of beds… the smell of blood and bleach stinging my nose, my throat. Quiet groans of the wounded, the dying, the hopeless. Quiet sounds of desperation. It was my job, among other things, to quiet them, to comfort the soldiers in their final hour. Every other minute, it seemed, a new stretcher was lowered, another bed filled, another life slipped away. It was my job, my job… and they had done their jobs, too.
I put a body on a stretcher once, when I worked for the funeral home.
It was a pretty sad event. I had to wheel a woman’s 47 year old husband in the van; he died of a heart attack. He was born with heart issues.
But the most appropriate term for a “stretcher” would be a gurney, though…
For the first time in my life, I was being brought for medical care. I was on a stretcher, being hoisted into an ambulance by the time I came to. Blood blacked out the vision in one of my eyes. I tried to sit up, before a heavy hand pushed me back down.
I never imagined I would be hauled away on a stretcher on a night like this. I peered into the blood orange sky before me. It was as if I was descending into some other world. The pain wasn’t so bad as the sun set and I drifted away listening to the mumbling of anxious doctors.
Tasmin earring indie other side gay guy cool different black Bob Marley jammin weed fresh garbage Rob farm festival
When I was small I wanted to be taller and I thought I could be taller by lying on a stretcher.
I looked up into the cloudy sky. It was orange with streaks of red. The doctors were mumbling something, but I was focusing on the sunset colors of the sky in front of me. I never thought I would be hauled off on a stretcher in this way.
She lay flat on the stretcher gazing at his muscular body , ‘Here I am.” she thought, You can take me home if you want . The stretcher was slipped carefully into the back of the ambulance as she drifted off into a peaceful slumber.
I saw my grandfather
he was being rolled away
away from life, me, and my whole family
I didn’t know what to think
I crashed onto the ground
I thought the world had stopped
I wanted to get off
I wanted to leave the Earth in his place
I deserve to leave more than him
My grandfather doesn’t deserve to die so publically on a stretcher