PreMergency
Two miles into her hike, Robin was wondering how much further it was to the ridge.
Following instructions from the owner of the guest ranch, she had begun her hike by recruiting three of the seven Australian Shepherds who lived on the ranch. The dogs would give plenty of notice to the bears and other wildlife that lived in the woods of British Columbia.
Robin hiked past the pasture that was home to about 40 horses and followed the twisting path through the woods. It was a gorgeous early morning, and the cool temperatures kept her comfortable and energized.
She heard the dogs barking up ahead. A few strides later, she had her first glimpse of the clearing at the top of the ridge and was surprised to see the dogs surrounding a man who was sitting cross-legged on a big boulder. Their tails were wagging enthusiastically, so she decided to trust their instincts.
"Hey," the man said with a big grin, "You found my secret hiding place."
"I didn't mean to bother you," Robin responded.
"No worries. Besides, you brought some of my friends with you." He held out his hand. "I'm Jake, staying at the ranch just like you."
"Robin," she said, shaking his hand.
She sat down on a rock opposite Jake. She looked out over the vista, which stretched for dozens of miles. Nothing but wilderness and blue skies. Heaven.
"It's great that you meditate," said Robin. I've tried it off and on."
"It's part of my job, literally. We're required to meditate and exercise consistently."
Robin looked back at Jake. He was about 30, lean and strong, with close-cropped hair. She couldn't figure out what his line of work was, so she asked, "What sort of job requires meditation?"
"PreMergency crews."
"Pre Mergency? As in before an emergency?"
Jake smiled. He liked explaining his job, especially since less than 100 people in the world had so far been trained to do it.
"I'm part of a test program where we respond to potential medical emergencies before they happen. The meditation and exercise requirement is because we're constantly showing up on people's doorsteps and telling them they are just minutes away from a heart attack or other life-threatening problem. We need to project calm, assertive energy, or otherwise, the person might freak and die."
Robin narrowed her eyes. She was trying to decide if he was being sincere or putting her on. But he really did project calm and assertive energy, so she decided to believe him.
"How do you know someone is about to face an emergency?"
"Lots of ways. We have almost two dozen wireless biosensors that monitor heart rate, pulse, and other vital signs. With elderly patients, we monitor movement – movement is good, by the way. We use different sensors for different patients. Over 35,000 patients are enrolled in the program, ranging from the very sick to some who are in better shape than you or me."
"No way."
"Yes, way. All the signals go into an automated center, and when anything varies from normal, someone like me goes out to check. I'm somewhere between an emergency medic and God."
Robin took a moment to digest this. It was a lot to absorb at 7 a.m. She imagined a middle-aged man sitting in a big easy chair, rubbing his chest to wish away indigestion, when the doorbell rings. Jake is at the door and says something like: you're not going to rub away that pain; let's get you to the hospital and stop that heart attack before it happens.
"Why do you say God?" she asked.
"In the past three months, I've saved twelve people who most likely would have died if I hadn't shown up at their door. One was a mother who gave birth three weeks later; she was going to name her child after me, but it turned out to be a girl. In most of the cases, the person didn't even know anything was wrong. It sure feels like divine intervention."
Robin smiled. "What a nice surprise to meet God this morning."