Blood, guts, broken bones protruding, mangled bodies, car wrecks — all this in 36 years of police work, not a problem. Just do not vomit up in my presence.
Even when the dog throws up after eating grass, I’m in immediate and serious distress. I go into dry heave mode and at times have upchucked myself. Then I go into death mode. Case in point.
While stationed in Maple Ridge I arrested a highly intoxicated underage youth. Highly intoxicated. While I have him in the cell block area he explodes. I lose it. I left the male in the open area in the cell block free to wander around while I quickly departed for the main office. I told my supervisor that he now has a prisoner that has thrown up and he’s presently not secured. I’m out of here. The supervisor informs me, my prisoner, my problem. The few times I go in, I’m forced back out. The supervisors and the other members having a good laugh at my predicament.
I phone the kid’s parents to ensure they are home. They were not able to leave their house. I tell them to stand by at their door, as I’m bringing their son home.
Back in the days we had paddy wagons.
I drive the wagon right up to the cell block doors.
I open the cell area door and I tell the kid from a long distance to simply walk into the back of the paddy wagon. He does. I dry heave it all the way to his house and I drive the wagon and back right up to the front door. I go to the house and tell the parents to go to the van and retrieve their loved one. They do.
I dry heave it back to the detachment.
After a couple of hours of getting this out of my mind my dry heaves diminish and I slowly get back to normal.
Marko Shehovac is Staff Sgt. for the Columbia Valley RCMP