This week, I covered a story at MedStar, the ambulance provider in Fort Worth. A woman who had been in a car crash wanted to celebrate her birthday with the first responders who saved her.

I always volunteer to cover a story at MedStar. Their headquarters is near my house. But MedStar also usually sends you home with a gift. I am not a diva.

A few months ago, they had reporters come and see how paramedics prepare to respond to more drowning calls and hot weather calls in the summer. MedStar’s PR guy said to me, “You got everything you need? Want a popsicle to take home?”

I didn’t realize it until that exact moment, but I did want a popsicle to take home. He started fishing through a cooler, pulled out a popsicle and handed it to me, explaining that he believed that was passion fruit.

I was, if we’re being honest with each other, a passion fruit popsicle virgin.

A few weeks later, he brought the reporters back for an open house. This time, he served barbecue for lunch. I had to work at my precious job, so I stumbled in late while everyone else was finishing and fixed a plate for myself.

I was also late to RSVP, but somehow he still had time to have a plaque made. I attended the luncheon a few years ago when I was still at WBAP, so now I’ve got a collection of media hero plaques. [Let’s get #AlanScaiaMediaHero trending, gang.]

But I’m making this about me. Back to Tasha’s birthday party. She was serving birthday cake to the paramedics, firefighters and police officers who responded to the call.

I sidled up to her and started chatting.

“They are the best at what they do,” she said. “And they will save your life.”

But then the discussion took a turn I’m sure no one is excited to read about again. I may never have mentioned this, but a few years back, I was in a car crash of my own.

“Don’t make it about you, dude,” I said to myself.

Tasha was telling me how she didn’t remember the crash and was out of it for the better part of three weeks.

“Oh yeah, I had that,” I responded. Then thought to myself, “But don’t make it about you.”

She wanted reporters to come so she could say thanks in a public setting, to give first responders recognition they might not get day-in and day-out.

I was glad to meet her. She was using the crash to get a good message out. When I got out of the hospital after my crash, it’s not like it made the news. Actually, it did. But she was much more altruistic, and this wasn’t about me.

Having said that, when MedStar’s PR guy walked in, he looked at me and said, “There’s the miracle man!”

I replied, “And also a MedStar customer!”

Another reporter asked, “Satisfied customer?”

“As long as they keep serving cake, obviously,” I explained.