A Belated "Thank You"


Twenty-two years. Some people don't live that long. I've been working in EMS for twenty-two years now. I've seen the typical paramedic's share of horror and happiness. Addiction and acrimony. Fear and fortitude. I won't bore you all with a million war stories because you've all lived them or have done me one better. And I can't convey to the uninitiated the true emotional cocktail that I'm served every time I show up at or remember one of these scenes I am called to. It's much like telling a pregnant couple that their lives will change incredibly once they have that baby - they think they can understand, but they can't until that first moment when they open the door to their home for the first time after the delivery, set their hospital bags on the floor, stare at the baby sleeping in the car seat, and say "What the hell do we do now?"

I'll channel Mr. Johnny Cash - I've been everywhere. There are few images that I would be surprised to see entering an EMS call these days. There's a curiosity that people have when they talk to you about being a paramedic or EMT. They don't know better - like a child asking an adult about their prosthetic device. They just can't fathom the depths of the darkness that is tucked away in my head, so they ask. They say "Man, what is the worst thing you've ever seen?"

Many providers are offended by this question. It's like asking someone "Hey, what was it like when you found your favorite dog dead in the bathtub that one time?" or "Dude - did your grandma do mouth-to-mouth on your grandpa when he died?" I'm not offended anymore. People don't understand - or they don't care. In either case the sensitivity of society is not going to get any better now that social media has become the means to have a discussion. But I have an answer for those interested. If you really want to know "the worst thing I have seen", it's honestly my own metamorphosis.

Make no mistake, EMS is not the cause of all of my problems, I had plenty of baggage going in - even at the ripe age of 20. Still, so many of the things that I saw as fixtures in life proved to be illusory once I put on that uniform. The stable ground of life was more like a skating rink of thin ice. There were beautiful figure skaters performing graceful jumps and spins. There were laughing young children all shrieking with joy as they stumbled and slid and got back up to chase each other. There were old couples skating together, holding hands, and young people on their own just enjoying the cool air and wind through their hair. It was something right out of a Currier and Ives painting. And then the ice started cracking.

Children plunged into the dark cold water at random. One or both people making up the the old couples would fall through, too. Even the people my own age. I was able to help a few of them, dragging them to the surface, but others just sank into the the depths. Families cried and waled over their losses, peering into those breaches in the ice. They turned to me for answers, but I had none. The pond was endless, and my children and family were on it as well. So I just kept skating, trying to put on a smile for my kids and loved ones. I wanted to feel that the world was safe - the way it was before I stepped on to the ice, but that idyllic notion was gone forever - rent asunder by the things I witnessed here.

You want to know what the worst thing I have ever seen is? The way I have gone from an extraverted goofball to a guy who stresses when having to spend time in crowds too long. The way I went from a guy who was thoughtful and romantic to a guy who has to sometimes work to keep a smile on my face and come up with a nice word for someone who needs it. The way I went from a strong man with few fears to a guy who constantly worries about the myriad rare things that could drop me or my wife or kids into that ice.

THAT is the worst thing that I have seen - Sean turning into a man that I don't know well, and alot of times don't even like. It's a transformation 22 years in the making.

I know we are all this way in EMS. We get bitter, jaded, scared... You can't do this job and not reach that point unless you're a sociopath. It's no surprise to my colleagues that there's no magical suit of psychological armor which protects first responders from the chaos and the horrors. We take those hits like wide receivers in the mid-field - stretched out for the pass when the linebackers come. They hurt, but we usually make the catch.

There is a secret hidden here, however. This world NEEDS us. It needs you, scars and all, to go to that home and care for that patient. People are screaming for help, and if we don't answer we fail. We fail at basic humanity - refusing to hold out the hand for the man in need. If we watch the people drown, we exercise a growing evil called "not my problem." NEVER BE SEPARATED FROM THIS FACT: As an EMS provider you do the MOST NOBLE JOB ON THE PLANET. Hands down. You sacrifice your innocence and your comfortable life to go into the battlefield and be there for people because they NEED YOU.

People don't often say "Thank You" to us - so let ME say it to YOU. THANK YOU. Thank you for those scars you carry. For the way your life has changed. For the PTSD or anxiety or the burnout you are dealing with. Thank You for being a beacon of hope in the dark times of people's lives. Thank you for electing to do this noble job, whether you knew it would affect you or not. WE NEED PEOPLE LIKE YOU.

If you find that YOU need help, please reach out for it. Approach your agency management about EAP. See a therapist. Go to debriefings. Find the growing support groups out there. Speak to clergy if you are so inclined. If you have truly reached the end of what you can handle, get out - and when you leave, hold your head high knowing that you've suffered so that others would not.

I hope you make it 22 years or longer. But whatever the case, remember you've made a difference. You are honorable.


Comments

  1. Great articular Sean! I would like to say there is no "getting out!" If EMS is for you, you will know it right away and will be a "Lifer." like so many of us. EMS will be in your blood and engraved into your brain. It has been many years since I have worked on the ambulance and to this day, last night included I have several nightmares that wake me and still scare the living daylights out of me.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Once in your blood it becomes a virus for which there in no cure. EMS, when preformed long enough full time will rip you of certain sensibilities. It will have you compare similarities..it will crush you when you assume, it will make you that person who has dinner conversations with others of your ilk while friends find you ghoulish. It will cause you nights of awake and worry. But know this: We are there for one another...we just need to recognize the signs in us that we do in our patients. I can't do it all the time because we are all so damn good at hiding; or too shell shocked to reach out.
    Lastly, Critical Stress Incident Management in EMS is profoundly lacking. Especially on the Private Paid Contract side.
    Lastly, we all need to look for the signs of stress. We know what they are when we go to our patients, we fear what we see in our partners because we fear it become ourselves. I honestly, don't know who to turn to when my partner tells me he/she can't take it any longer and just wants out. I give stock answers....but we all know our eyes can't un-see what we have seen.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular Posts