I have ridden in a bambalance a couple of times. Once was no big deal; I had a couple broken bones, sure, but I felt chipper enough to threaten to hop up off the gurney and punch the EMT if he tried to cut my beloved leather jacket off me*.
The other time I was in screaming agony from the shattered bone ends of a truly horrific compound fracture grinding together and I wished the ambulance could go faster, maybe fly, and just hurry up and get me to the place where they kept the doctors with the no-kidding painkillers.
But in both instances I was very happy to have that ambulance swoop in in what seemed like no time flat and scrape my carcass off the pavement.
Last weekend, when Shootin' Buddy and I were driving to the range, I turned my head to look out the side window and he exclaimed "Holy...! Did you see that?"
"That ambulance! I've never seen one going that fast on the street! It must have been doing a hundred!"
Apparently, in the time it took me to turn my head 90 degrees to the right, blink, and then look forward again, an ambulance had flashed through the intersection a half block ahead of us. That's movin' right along.
Be careful out there, my friends in the ambos. I worry about y'all.
*We just took the jacket off instead; a scapula fracture isn't that big a deal if it doesn't go completely across the bone, and my thumb wasn't going to get any broker.