I have worked in emergency medical services for over 5 years.  To me, that is crazy.  It feels like only yesterday that I was taking my EMT class.  I can tell you this - I never could have even imagined all the different things that I have seen in my few short years.  I never imagined that I would have met my husband before I actually knew who he was, either - and remembered him!

I think that everyone remembers their first big call.  My first was a cardiac arrest.  On the way to the call I was freaking out inside, and I don't doubt that it showed to my partner.  But as soon as we got on scene at the patients house, my training kicked in.  What needed to be done, got done.  Things were carried out swiftly and with care.  After the patient arrived at the hospital, care was transferred, and the time of death was called, my partner and I went out and got chinese food for a late night snack.

As for my defining call, well... that was something else.  I had have your "average" cardiac arrest a few times by this point.  And the call my partner and I were sent for, for all intensive purposes, appeared at first to be a regular 911 call.  It turned into a show for the entire neighborhood, with my partner, myself, and all the other first responders on scene being at danger at one point or another.  It ended with five people jammed in the back of an ambulance trying to help a patient who could not be saved.  What stands out most to me on that call to this day, though, was a young girl.  She watched the entire event.  After the call my partner and I loaded our stomachs with as much junk food as we could get our hands on, I had to change out of bloodied clothes, and we chatted about all the crazy things that had just happened.  We then returned to base where other crews were watching TV, reading, making crude jokes... and we carried on with the evening.

To those of you who are not familiar with EMS, all of that may sound a bit crude to you.  How could you not mourn?  Shouldn't you be sad?  How could you just move on like that, and even make light of the situation shortly after?  Have you no respect for the pain people are going through, or the lives that were lost?

Yes.  We mourn for the patients that we could not save.  We never forget them.  We experience sadness.  We have no choice but to move on.  We have a great amount of respect.  We make light because if we didn't, we would be consumed.  We would be consumed by the darkness of what we have seen. By the uncertainty of not knowing if things would have had a different outcome had we done something even slightly differently, or been there just a moment earlier.  We see too much.  We have no choice but to set emotions aside and let ourselves fall into the rhythm of routine, or to let the adrenaline kick in and just get our job done.

I hate it when people ask "what's the worst thing you've seen?"  You don't really want to know.  I don't want to share it.  We don't want to remember.

Not all of the job is bad, though.  One of my favorite patients was one that I transferred every few weeks.  We knew each other by name.  I knew some of his fondest moments with his family.  He told me stories of him dancing with his wife, how she was the best decision he ever made.  He told me how his heart broke when she was taken from him on their anniversary, too young.  I told him about my life, what was then my upcoming wedding, my desire for a family.  He gave me some wonderful advice.  He is gone now, and I do often think of him.  It hurt my heart to see his health decline, and know that soon he would be gone from this world and with his wife.  He was such a kind soul.

Why am I writing this?  I'm not really sure.  It's now been sitting in a folder as a 'draft' for two days.  Here we go.  :)