stretching bends your muscles, giving your blood the chance to flow through your body. you get warmed up ready for the day. the stretch has gotten you ready, and you are ready.
I wake up. It rains heavily for ten minutes. Then it stops again. I decide to stay in bed. As always. I look at the world happening outside the window one more time.
I had to keep calm. The kids needn’t sense my despair. There dad was holding on. But I knew he wasn’t going to make it. I had to plan ahead. I had to start looking for the words to explain why he wouldn’t be coming home. I had to find the strength to fight on. I had to find the time to break down.
Her throat burned the longer she screamed, and she wanted everything to stop. Stop stop stop stop her mind shrieked, over and over again. Her heart races at the sight of the crumbled metal, the twisted scraps all over the asphalt. Her heart shatters at the sight of him on the stretcher. A mantra repeats out loud. Don’t die don’t die don’t die don’t die.
I saw a baby riding in a stretcher with her mother on the middle of the Horizon Park which kinda convinces a lot of kids to ride the stretcher too but unfortunately they are tooooo big enough to ride in the stretcher.
they carried the stretcher out of the house for what felt like hours to the on lookers. Over the light beige cobbled stone, past the sidewalk, onto the street and into the bright red screeching ambulance. It was the last time any of them ever saw her.
Stretcher. The guy who stretches his back to soothe out the pain from last nights loos springs. The lady who trenches her little rubber band to hole up her ponytail for the time being. The little boy who stretches his arms way in the air hoping to become taller one day.
There once was this stretcher that was left in front of my house. I went outside and I decided, instead of ignoring it, I was going to study it and, possibly, find out why it was left in front of my house. As I walked up to it, I heard a strange sound coming from underneath it.
On the football field, it always seems to come in at the wrong time. Just before the kick, just after the tackle, just when my team is on its way to victory. And then it picks up my favorite player, drags him off the field, and leaves me speechless, hopeless,…
placing the lion onto the stretcher was a conundrum he couldn’t solve on his own, and the lion would surely awaken soon. He scanned the gathering crowd for just the right sort of person to help; strong without being too aggressive, wary but not too frightened, and just foolish enough to help with such a task. Three people stood out; an adventurous looking sort of young woman, an older gentlemen who looked like he had a few stories to tell, and a gangly looking teenager who looked like he was used to being picked last. Yes, they would do fine. This lion would change their lives forever.
Being carried to an ambulance, a stretcher draws gazes from people as they wonder whats wrong with you, what injury you have and what will happen to you next. Stretchers are a sign that something is so seriously wrong with you you can’t stand.
hospitals use it, usually people who are on it are hurt or dead. i see a lot of them on shows like grey’s anatomy or scrubs or any medical show really. it’s a negative thing to see someone on a stretcher. though there are beds like stretchres like in preschool so i don’t know. they are white usually.
full body length. they roll. it reminds me of length too i suppose.
in the gym me streching my legs so I can make a perfect split or squat, it’s yellow and well it streches my feet in which I have a tenni shoe purpble black and white, eventhough I wanted it to be pink and itd nike.
the stretcher, erm that just reminds me of those makeshift types in the war where they’d haul bodies off. Many times in pieces. Why didn’t they just use a sack?
There she lay, broken in a lifeless heap on the pavement. Blood was seeping through her clothes and soaking the concrete, and no one stopped to help. Passerby stood about five feet away from her and glanced every so often at the victim, murmuring under their breaths. No one, absolutely no one, bothered to call the police nor the ambulance.
The stretcher bearer was a frail boy of only 16. He looked sad and lost and hopeless. He was stronger than he seemed though, carrying the captain back to the aid-station.
Carried out on a stretcher. It is the vessel that takes you from one path to another. You are dying, you are receiving harm, now you are receiving help, fighting for survival. It is hope, uncertainty, and the value of dear life. It is overlooked.
The “Stretcher”? That was what the papers were calling him. He shoved his hands deep into his pocket…and directly into the sidewalk. He jumped around awkwardly in pain, shouting obscenities into the wind. Arms sticking out of the end of his trousers, he haphazardly tried to remove them. People were starting to look. Letting out one last curse, he shuffled his feet, “much like a penguin,” noted a casual observer, until he was safely hidden away in the shadows of a Back-alley.
I was often reminded of the disturbing qualities of a yoga class. But come on, what more can you expect from a professional stretcher? I’m paying someone to help me bend back and forth. At least I was able to join the class with the most yoga pants booties.
I moved carefully on the stretcher, but no matter how I tried, I couldn’t stop that creaking noise. I needed to get up but was afraid of waking the others. My sleeping bag was warm and I didn’t want to feel the cold that already afflicted my nose, but needs must. Taking the intiative, I hauled my body out from the seelping bag, pushed my knees towards the floor, and stood up.
THE MAN WAS CARRIED OUT ON THE STRETCHER BUT NO ONE KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED ALL THEY KNOW IS HE IS IN A COMA SOME PEOPLE SAY HE TRIED TO KILL HIMSELF WHAT I THINK IS HE TRIED TO COMMT MURDER BUT
the ambulance driver quickly grabbed the stretcher and raced to the dying man but everyone knew that it would be too late. the man was already gone. gone away to a new world.
Hospitals make great use of stretchers. I usually find most stretchers to be yellow in colour, with the straps holding the person to the stretcher are usually orange. One person is strapped to said stretcher, then two more lift him up and hoist them generally into an ambulance where it speeds to a hospital so the man can receive treatment.
a stretcher is every mother’s worst nightmare. last summer we drove past the house where the crumpled prius had solicited the wale of sirens. the stretcher that pulled the body away glinted in the late summer sun, there is beauty in life, and beauty in death.
They called him the stretcher. Why? Is it not obvious? Because he could stretch, of course. With a simple mental gesture he could stretch his arm from one end of the room, to the other.
They took him away on the stretcher. His body hidden by a white sheet. I felt the life leave my heart. My veins empty at the sight. Such a grim visual. I’ll never forget. Oh, how I miss you.
30 compressions
1 breath
I tried
They carried him out
On a stretcher
And they flicked on their sirens
And drove away
Hope was useless
I knew he was gone
This is something that I never want to be on. Ever. If you’re on a stretcher, something terrible has happened to you, there is absolutely no doubt about it. The best thing that can happen to you to put you on a stretcher is if you have just had a baby, but even then… super amounts of pain are associated with this word. I never, ever want to be on a stretcher.
The men in white loaded her onto the stretcher. She was as limp as a ragdoll, and about as alive as one too. The shouting men rushed her into the ambulance and checked for a pulse, but we all knew they wouldn’t find one.
She was long gone.
Stretcher sound like a place where you can draw… dont know why, it just does. It also sounds like an apparatus designed for midgets that gives them some extra inches bla di bla bla bla
i like the “stret” part of the word, not so sure bout the last bit, though. Ugly word.
The clock struck as hearts raced, the man came in on a stretcher in a crumpled mess of blood and bones, groaning softly as his heart rate slowed. The EMTs rushed him into the nearest open OR where the doctors quickly started working on fixing the man. He was just one man on a stretcher, an insignificant fleck of matter, but significant to the world.
I felt my legs, my arms, my face all being pulled downwards with the gravity of the situation. I had laid myself on a stretcher and raised the white flag. I was pulled outward to the point of exhaustion
The men carrying the stretcher rushed through the alarmed crowd, shoving people out of the way who stumbled and swore. The men slowed as they reached their destination and shouted incomprehensible things at the gathering group of onlookers.
It must have been one of the most dangerous jobs being a stretcher carrier in the world wars, when you think about it. Getting shot at while trying to save your mates. Do they still have them in the armies?
The stretcher was old, ragged. It was covered in a fine film of dust, as though it hadn’t been used in years. It looked as though it couldn’t fit a person who was extremely overweight, or someone that was extremely tall. But it was useful in this situation, as Lydia was hurt and she couldn’t move.
As the stretcher pulled out from the street I appeared to be on the ground completely numb not fully realizing what just happened. I am in denial of the truth of this “reality” that I am living in. I miss him already.
Seeing a stretcher in the street in front of an ambulance or something has always given me the heebie jeebies. I never like to look, but I find myself doing it anyway and I erupt in gooseflesh. I don’t know what it is about people that makes us want to look, but it must be something adaptational. Something.
stretching bends your muscles, giving your blood the chance to flow through your body. you get warmed up ready for the day. the stretch has gotten you ready, and you are ready.
I wake up. It rains heavily for ten minutes. Then it stops again. I decide to stay in bed. As always. I look at the world happening outside the window one more time.
I had to keep calm. The kids needn’t sense my despair. There dad was holding on. But I knew he wasn’t going to make it. I had to plan ahead. I had to start looking for the words to explain why he wouldn’t be coming home. I had to find the strength to fight on. I had to find the time to break down.
Her throat burned the longer she screamed, and she wanted everything to stop. Stop stop stop stop her mind shrieked, over and over again. Her heart races at the sight of the crumbled metal, the twisted scraps all over the asphalt. Her heart shatters at the sight of him on the stretcher. A mantra repeats out loud. Don’t die don’t die don’t die don’t die.
I saw a baby riding in a stretcher with her mother on the middle of the Horizon Park which kinda convinces a lot of kids to ride the stretcher too but unfortunately they are tooooo big enough to ride in the stretcher.
they carried the stretcher out of the house for what felt like hours to the on lookers. Over the light beige cobbled stone, past the sidewalk, onto the street and into the bright red screeching ambulance. It was the last time any of them ever saw her.
Stretcher. The guy who stretches his back to soothe out the pain from last nights loos springs. The lady who trenches her little rubber band to hole up her ponytail for the time being. The little boy who stretches his arms way in the air hoping to become taller one day.
crunches
There once was this stretcher that was left in front of my house. I went outside and I decided, instead of ignoring it, I was going to study it and, possibly, find out why it was left in front of my house. As I walked up to it, I heard a strange sound coming from underneath it.
On the football field, it always seems to come in at the wrong time. Just before the kick, just after the tackle, just when my team is on its way to victory. And then it picks up my favorite player, drags him off the field, and leaves me speechless, hopeless,…
placing the lion onto the stretcher was a conundrum he couldn’t solve on his own, and the lion would surely awaken soon. He scanned the gathering crowd for just the right sort of person to help; strong without being too aggressive, wary but not too frightened, and just foolish enough to help with such a task. Three people stood out; an adventurous looking sort of young woman, an older gentlemen who looked like he had a few stories to tell, and a gangly looking teenager who looked like he was used to being picked last. Yes, they would do fine. This lion would change their lives forever.
Being carried to an ambulance, a stretcher draws gazes from people as they wonder whats wrong with you, what injury you have and what will happen to you next. Stretchers are a sign that something is so seriously wrong with you you can’t stand.
hospitals use it, usually people who are on it are hurt or dead. i see a lot of them on shows like grey’s anatomy or scrubs or any medical show really. it’s a negative thing to see someone on a stretcher. though there are beds like stretchres like in preschool so i don’t know. they are white usually.
full body length. they roll. it reminds me of length too i suppose.
in the gym me streching my legs so I can make a perfect split or squat, it’s yellow and well it streches my feet in which I have a tenni shoe purpble black and white, eventhough I wanted it to be pink and itd nike.
the stretcher, erm that just reminds me of those makeshift types in the war where they’d haul bodies off. Many times in pieces. Why didn’t they just use a sack?
There she lay, broken in a lifeless heap on the pavement. Blood was seeping through her clothes and soaking the concrete, and no one stopped to help. Passerby stood about five feet away from her and glanced every so often at the victim, murmuring under their breaths. No one, absolutely no one, bothered to call the police nor the ambulance.
The stretcher bearer was a frail boy of only 16. He looked sad and lost and hopeless. He was stronger than he seemed though, carrying the captain back to the aid-station.
Carried out on a stretcher. It is the vessel that takes you from one path to another. You are dying, you are receiving harm, now you are receiving help, fighting for survival. It is hope, uncertainty, and the value of dear life. It is overlooked.
The “Stretcher”? That was what the papers were calling him. He shoved his hands deep into his pocket…and directly into the sidewalk. He jumped around awkwardly in pain, shouting obscenities into the wind. Arms sticking out of the end of his trousers, he haphazardly tried to remove them. People were starting to look. Letting out one last curse, he shuffled his feet, “much like a penguin,” noted a casual observer, until he was safely hidden away in the shadows of a Back-alley.
I was often reminded of the disturbing qualities of a yoga class. But come on, what more can you expect from a professional stretcher? I’m paying someone to help me bend back and forth. At least I was able to join the class with the most yoga pants booties.
I moved carefully on the stretcher, but no matter how I tried, I couldn’t stop that creaking noise. I needed to get up but was afraid of waking the others. My sleeping bag was warm and I didn’t want to feel the cold that already afflicted my nose, but needs must. Taking the intiative, I hauled my body out from the seelping bag, pushed my knees towards the floor, and stood up.
THE MAN WAS CARRIED OUT ON THE STRETCHER BUT NO ONE KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED ALL THEY KNOW IS HE IS IN A COMA SOME PEOPLE SAY HE TRIED TO KILL HIMSELF WHAT I THINK IS HE TRIED TO COMMT MURDER BUT
the ambulance driver quickly grabbed the stretcher and raced to the dying man but everyone knew that it would be too late. the man was already gone. gone away to a new world.
Hospitals make great use of stretchers. I usually find most stretchers to be yellow in colour, with the straps holding the person to the stretcher are usually orange. One person is strapped to said stretcher, then two more lift him up and hoist them generally into an ambulance where it speeds to a hospital so the man can receive treatment.
a stretcher is every mother’s worst nightmare. last summer we drove past the house where the crumpled prius had solicited the wale of sirens. the stretcher that pulled the body away glinted in the late summer sun, there is beauty in life, and beauty in death.
They called him the stretcher. Why? Is it not obvious? Because he could stretch, of course. With a simple mental gesture he could stretch his arm from one end of the room, to the other.
They took him away on the stretcher. His body hidden by a white sheet. I felt the life leave my heart. My veins empty at the sight. Such a grim visual. I’ll never forget. Oh, how I miss you.
30 compressions
1 breath
I tried
They carried him out
On a stretcher
And they flicked on their sirens
And drove away
Hope was useless
I knew he was gone
This is something that I never want to be on. Ever. If you’re on a stretcher, something terrible has happened to you, there is absolutely no doubt about it. The best thing that can happen to you to put you on a stretcher is if you have just had a baby, but even then… super amounts of pain are associated with this word. I never, ever want to be on a stretcher.
The men in white loaded her onto the stretcher. She was as limp as a ragdoll, and about as alive as one too. The shouting men rushed her into the ambulance and checked for a pulse, but we all knew they wouldn’t find one.
She was long gone.
Stretcher sound like a place where you can draw… dont know why, it just does. It also sounds like an apparatus designed for midgets that gives them some extra inches bla di bla bla bla
i like the “stret” part of the word, not so sure bout the last bit, though. Ugly word.
Just like a stretcher.
Stretcher in the night.
Stretch me home.
Strechchchch…
Stretcher away.
The clock struck as hearts raced, the man came in on a stretcher in a crumpled mess of blood and bones, groaning softly as his heart rate slowed. The EMTs rushed him into the nearest open OR where the doctors quickly started working on fixing the man. He was just one man on a stretcher, an insignificant fleck of matter, but significant to the world.
I felt my legs, my arms, my face all being pulled downwards with the gravity of the situation. I had laid myself on a stretcher and raised the white flag. I was pulled outward to the point of exhaustion
The men carrying the stretcher rushed through the alarmed crowd, shoving people out of the way who stumbled and swore. The men slowed as they reached their destination and shouted incomprehensible things at the gathering group of onlookers.
It must have been one of the most dangerous jobs being a stretcher carrier in the world wars, when you think about it. Getting shot at while trying to save your mates. Do they still have them in the armies?
The stretcher was old, ragged. It was covered in a fine film of dust, as though it hadn’t been used in years. It looked as though it couldn’t fit a person who was extremely overweight, or someone that was extremely tall. But it was useful in this situation, as Lydia was hurt and she couldn’t move.
Agony kissed you, it seemed
When you were carried away by the men in white.
Although I could never tell, years later –
Was it because of the fall,
Or the fact that I had pushed you?
As the stretcher pulled out from the street I appeared to be on the ground completely numb not fully realizing what just happened. I am in denial of the truth of this “reality” that I am living in. I miss him already.
Seeing a stretcher in the street in front of an ambulance or something has always given me the heebie jeebies. I never like to look, but I find myself doing it anyway and I erupt in gooseflesh. I don’t know what it is about people that makes us want to look, but it must be something adaptational. Something.