Darkness. Cold. Reflection of fire in the water. Hoses on the ground. Onlookers. The stretcher, pulled by my partner and a firefighter, races through the scene to the the unknown victim carried out of the building. Behind them my feet are up in the air. I am three feet above the ground, suspended parallel, my arms wide out. A snapshot in time. I land hard on the black ice. I lay there. I am fifty-five years old. I do a body assessment. Still have feeling in my hands and toes. No acute pain. I didn’t hear any cracks. I get to my feet and take a few tenuous steps, and then move quicker, Moments later I am at the patient’s side, giving commands, Still a working paramedic.