Abstract
Sunday had begun hot and was now damp and chilly. The half marathon was over save for stragglers. Someone called across the crowd. “Oi, Trish! You're a doctor, aren't you? Can you give us a hand?” A woman in a pastel jogging suit was being transferred from the back of a Cortina into the first aid vehicle. The St John Ambulance lady made the diagnosis from 10 feet away. “That's another collapse. I'll get the usual, shall I?” The ambulance was dark, the bed narrow, and the casualty large and prone. I began pulling off multiple layers of cotton fleece in the hope of …
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