It's rather strange how things work out.
Take the job that we had recently – it was given as a woman who'd fainted but was breathing fine and had nothing else wrong with her.
We were pretty much round the corner, so it wouldn't take us long to get there.
We arrived at a junction smack bang in the middle of the road that we wanted. Do we turn right or left? We turned right and found the address.
The address was a bunch of flats, the name that we had been given was spelt wrong but as we are clever ambulance workers we went straight to the correct address.
I walked into the house, for some reason I was carrying pretty much all our equipment with me, I can't say why I was doing this, some sort of intuition I would guess.
And our patient was on the floor and wasn't breathing. Her heart was beating a quarter of the speed it should have been and she was not so much knocking on Death's door, but halfway down Death's hallway hanging up her coat*.
So we set about doing a few things for her, breathing for her and monitoring her heart. After we'd pushed some oxygen into her she started to breathe for herself and her heartbeat sped up to more normal speeds.
We left her at hospital with a pretty good prognosis.
But that only came about because of good luck – if we had been further away she would have died. If we'd turned left instead of right she could have died. If I hadn't carried some of our weirder bits of equipment into the house she could have died. If she lived on the top floor of the flats instead of the ground floor she could have died.
With the exception of her stopping breathing in the first place, it would seem that luck was with her.
*Stolen from the rather excellent Alan Moore.