It was a sold out show for the paramedic’s performance at The Poets, a crowded venue lined with plush (what felt like) dining room chairs and a tasteful chaise lounge. Perhaps a credit to Hove (actually), the audience was politely enraptured, welcoming frontline paramedics Chris and Tiff to the stage, accompanied by their resident medical actor, Paul.
A dense medical disclaimer was projected on the screen, perhaps stating their medical incompetence and commitment to comedy instead of public safety. What followed was a rigorous and raucous first aid how-to, a show soundtracked by sirens and applause, consisting of a graphic demonstration of an on-stage home birth, the steps involved in saving a severely fractured limb, and a drug induced Cilla Black impersonator.
Lo and behold I was unwittingly sitting next to a (particularly handsome) qualified paramedic, and after striking up a conversation about our respective roles, we shared an appreciation of the performance. Needless to say, professionalism comes above paramedics, but there’s space in my contacts for an alternative number to 999… This could be the review romance you never knew you needed.
It was a show of magnitude, and whilst I found myself in the firing line for audience participation, it was met with the same care and precision we are afforded by our beloved NHS. I’m confident that Tiff, Chris, and Paul will find themselves in high demand following this stint of shows, and at the end of the comedic emergency hotline in more ways than one.
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