The holidays are over. We now face the long dark night of the soul that is the New England winter.

Forget your Currier and Ives postcard with sleighs and skaters and gentle snow-scapes. We’re talking slush and sky the same ugly gray. We’re talking frizzle (freezing drizzle). Frozen vomit outside the shelter.

Few things (management decree, chronic understaffing) make our job harder than winter. O.K., stairs-and fat people-and citizens in cars.

Narrow streets become impossibly more narrow. Steep hills become slick with ice and snow. Rational citizens become victims of winter’s madness. Driver’s that cannot parallel park decide to navigate streets more suited to dogsleds. The lactose and gluten intolerant flock to the Stop and Shop to line up for bread and milk at the first mention of snow. Recipients of new hips decide to field-test them on icy walkways.

We have entered the dying season. The soon to die try to hold on for the holidays, for the families, and most succeed. But when they turn the corner and face the thought of January or February…

What about you, Lifesaver? How do YOU manage to survive?

Fight or flight. Flight is best…Run! Flee! Save yourself! If you’ve got the money and the time. I can’t even get a holiday for Friday.

So, time to fight. Stand up to winter. Stick a finger in its eye. Find a sport or activity that forces you to confront winter.

Skiing. Snowshoeing. Ice Fishing. Ice Climbing. DO SOMETHING. Don’t cower inside and be winter’s victim. It’s not three months in the Keys but, as we say in Lake Wobegon, it’s good enough.

What about those who can neither fight or flee. I’m talking the old, the young, the sick, the poor. Well….They have you, dear Lifesaver.

Are your patients warm enough?

Are you comfortable in the back of your truck? With your miracle fiber underwear and heavyweight EMS-issue sweater and your non-sanctioned official bad boy leather jacket? Then I’m guessing your patient, in her nightclothes, sick and incontinent and coming from her 80-degree apartment is not.

Keep the back of your truck warm enough so that YOU are comfortable in your shirtsleeves-and, for god’s sake, use the blankets.

Blankets are magic. They have special healing powers. Face it, Lifesaver, there’s little we can do for most of our patients. There’s no magic in that green bag that can cure cancer or dementia, heal a hip or even fix the flu. Be nice. Keep them warm and comfortable. Be gentle. Blankets go a long way to accomplishing these goals.

And remember, to work properly, blankets should go around the patient, not on top like a furniture pad.

Imagine being sick and having nothing but a cold sheet between your butt and a freezing stair chair.

Around, not over. And don’t forget to cover the head. That’s where we lose most of our heat. I once saw an EMT put his watch cap over the exposed head of a patient during a lengthy winter extrication. Very low-tech, but it spoke volumes to me.

Be prepared! Is there an ice-scraper in your truck? Shovel? How about a bag of kitty litter (New, not used) for those slippery steps. The only thing worse than carrying a Load down three flights is having them fall on you as you toboggan down the steps.

Winter bites. People do foolish things. Count on it. Expect the worst, do your best.

On the bright side, by the time you read this, winter will have begun to release its icy grip-The Patriots will have won the Super Bowl and the Red Sox will have reported to Spring Training.

Congratulations. You’ve survived another New England winter. Now, watch those steps. They look treacherous.