Live * Love * Rescue

Medc2B

I wish you could comprehend a wife’s horror at 6 in the morning as I Check her husband of 40 years for a pulse and find none. I start CPR anyway, hoping to bring him back, knowing intuitively it is too late. But wanting his wife and family to know everything possible was done to try and save his life.

I wish you could read my mind as I respond to a call, Is this a false alarm or a working fire? How is the building constructed? What Hazards await me? Is anyone trapped?” What is wrong with the patient? Is it minor or life threatening? Is the caller really in distress or is he waiting for us with a 2x4 or a .357?

I wish you could be in the emergency room, as a doctor pronounces dead, the beautiful five-year old girl that I have been trying to save during the past 25 minutes, knowing she will never go on her first date or say the words, “I love you Mommy”, ever again.

I wish you could know the frustration I feel in the cab of the ambulance, the driver with his foot pressing down hard on the pedal, my hand working the sirens, as you fail to yield the right-of-way at an intersection or in traffic. When you need us however, your first comment upon our arrival will be, “It took you forever to get here!”

I wish you could know my thoughts as I help extricate a girl of teenage years from the remains of her automobile. What if this was my daughter, sister, my girlfriend or a friend? What were her parents’ reactions going to be when they opened the door to find a police officer with hat in hand?

I wish you could know how it feels to walk in the back door and greet my parents and family, not having the heart to tell them that I nearly did not come back from the last call.

I wish you could know how it feels dispatching officers, EMTs and Paramedics after hearing a bone chilling 911 call of a child or wife needing assistance.

I wish you could feel the hurt as people verbally and sometimes physically abuse us or belittle what I do, or as they express their attitudes of “It will never happen to me”. I wish you could realize the physical, emotional and mental drain of missed meals, lost sleep and forgone social activities, in addition to all the tragedy my eyes have seen.

I wish you could know the brotherhood and self-satisfaction of saving a life, or being able to be there in time of crisis, or creating order from total chaos.

I wish you could understand what it feels like to have a little boy tugging at your arm and asking, “Is my Mommy okay?” , not even being able to look in his eyes without tears from your own and not knowing what to say. Or to have to hold back a long time friend who watches his buddy having CPR done on him as they take him away in the Medic Unit. You know all along he did not have his seat belt on. A sensation that I have become too familiar with.

Unless you have lived with this kind of life, you will never truly understand or appreciate who I am, we are, or what our job really means to us…I wish you could tho.

Sorry if we woke you in the middle of the night
But someone in your neighborhood is fighting for his life.
Sorry if we block the road and make you turn around,
But there’s been a bad wreck with dying children on the ground.

When you see us coming you’ll understand
Let us have the right-of-way someone needs a helping hand.
Sometimes a child is choking, sometimes a broken leg.
Sometimes a heart stops beating, and when we get there it’s too late.
So if you see us crying when we think we’re alone
You’ll know we had a “bad” one and we’re feeling mighty down

We don’t do it for the money — you know we don’t get paid.
We don’t do it for the glory but for the life that might be saved.
Somewhere deep within us our souls are crying out
“We’re here to help our neighbors out in their hour of pain and doubt.”
God gave us something special to help us see you through
We do it ‘cause we love you, and we care about you too.

— Author Unknown

Scared, Cold, in pain,

the dust hasn’t settled yet.

Pinned in, crying,

my clothes are ripped, red, and wet.

Lights, noise, and confusion,

all part of the night.

I’m going to die alone,

give up the fight.

Red lights are flashing,

mixing with blue.

A face appears at my window,

the face is you.

“You’re gonna be all right”

is the first thing you say.

A reassuring voice,

someone wants me to stay.

You could have been home with family,

they need you too.

You worked all day at the job,

your sleeping hours numbered two.

But you went down the hall,

hoping your family is OK.

Now you’re here with me and Death,

with comforting words to say.

No time for yourself,

no thought for your safety.

Later you may think,

your decision was hasty.

“Get the Jaws. Watch that gas;

Keep the people away.

Get his vitals, hose this down.”

Some things I hear them say.

You stand in gas,

look in my window,

show no fear.

I look back at you knowing,

your voice is the last I’ll ever hear.

I fade away as you hold me,

while holding back your tears.

Thank you for being there,

You Brave Volunteers.

” Author: Ralph Allen “

When the Lord made EMT’s and Paramedics, he was into his sixth day of overtime when an angel appeared and said, “You’re doing a lot of fiddling around on this one.”

And the Lord said, “Have you read the specs on this order? An EMS provider has to be able to carry an injured person up a wet, grassy hill in the dark, dodge stray bullets to reach a dying child unarmed, enter homes the health inspector wouldn’t touch, and not wrinkle their uniform.”

“They have to be able to lift 3 times their own weight, crawl into wrecked cars with barely enough room to move, and console a grieving mother as they are doing CPR on a baby they know will never breathe again.”

“They have to be in top mental condition at all times, running on no sleep, black coffee and half-eaten meals. And they have to have six pairs of hands.”

The angel shook her head slowly and said, “Six pairs of hands…no way.”

“It’s not the hands that are causing me problems,” said the Lord, “It’s the three pairs of eyes a medic has to have.”

“That’s on the standard model?” asked the angel.

The Lord nodded. “One pair that sees open sores as they’re drawing blood and asks the patient if they may be HIV positive,” (when they already know and wish they’d taken that accounting job.) Another pair here in the side of the head for their partners’ safety. And another pair of eyes here in front that can look supportively at a frightened person and gently explain that their spouse of many years has departed this life.”

“Lord,” said the angel, touching his sleeve, “rest and work on this tomorrow.”

“I can’t,” said the Lord, “I already have a model that can talk a 250 pound drunk out from behind a steering wheel without incident and feed a family of five on a private service paycheck.”

The angel circled the model of the medic very slowly, “Can it think?” she asked.

“You bet,” said the Lord. “It can tell you the symptoms of 100 illnesses; recite drug calculations in its sleep; intubate, defibrillate, medicate, and continue CPR nonstop over terrain that any doctor would fear…and still it keeps its sense of humor. This medic also has phenomenal personal control. He can deal with a multi-victim trauma, coax a frightened elderly person to unlock their door, comfort an assault victim’s family, and then read an article in the daily paper about responders being too slow to locate a house (a house which had no street sign and no house numbers.)”

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the medic. “There’s a leak,” she pronounced. “I told you that you were trying to put too much into this model.”

“That’s not a leak,” said the Lord, “It’s a tear.”

“What’s the tear for?” asked the angel.

“It’s for bottled-up emotions, for patients they’ve tried in vain to save, for commitment to that hope that they will make a difference in a person’s chance to survive, for seeing an accident victim walk again, for the family time they will miss while serving the community, for life.”

“You’re a genius,” said the angel.

The Lord looked somber. “I didn’t put it there,” He said.

emstraumajunkie asked: Thanks for the follow!! Are you an EMT/FF ??

I am an EMT-Enhanced in Virginia.

tumblrbot asked: WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE INANIMATE OBJECT?

I would have to say my set of trauma shears. And you?