I agree about the nature of the Dispatcher's job, Mike. I can also visualise the 'disconnect' between the dispatcher and the responding officers (of whatever service).
From my own experience, many years ago a friend of mine had a psychotropic (don't know if that's the right term) reaction to his drinks whilst we were at a nightclub out in the countryside.
I was trying to walk him home, not easy because he's twice my size, when he collapses in a fit at the roadside, frothing at the mouth and twitching. I wedge his mouth open, trapping his tongue, with a pen I have on me and run back to the nightclub. I have to fast-talk my way past the bouncers to get to the public pay-phone inside (which shows how long ago this was

).
I ring 999, ask for the ambulance service, give my name, address, location and a brief description of the emergency. They tell me a unit will be there in fifteen minutes. I thank them and say I will go back to my friend and stay with him.
I run back the mile up the hill and find ... my friend is gone

. I search about for him and he's not crawled off into the woods or gone along the road on his own. A couple nearby (ahem) see my confused perigrinations, ask me if I'm looking for my friend and tell me that a car coming from the club had stopped and picked him up - so I had little choice but wait for the ambulance to show up and confess what had occurred.
I've often thought what the dispatcher and that ambulance crew must've thought of me for, effectively, wasting their time.
Anyhow, wandering now; clearly it's too late to be posting

. I just thought it might be illuminating to see how, even in a circumstance that is not home-invasion, confusion can reign supreme.