Ghosts: A Tale of a Career Paramedic.

Fast Times and Long Nights

I often stand outside of my truck in the early morning hours and stare up at the stars. I call it the calm before the storm hour. It's dark enough that the stars shine bright and the darkness hides the ambulance from the EMS gods that reign chaos from above. The streets are as traffic free as they will ever be before the madness of the morning rush hour kicks in. It's quiet and serene, a short lived peace and tranquility. Those moments are in stark contrast to what awaits when the EMS gods are angry. I often feel like a hawk perched high atop a tree branch ready to pounce on an unsuspecting prey. I wait in the front of my ambulance reading, or watching YouTube on my phone, or in a deep conversation of bullshit with partner. And then it happens; the call drops on the radio. It's funny how fast my mind can switch from talking about a dank meme to "go time". In an instant my mind pushes out everything not related to my job out of the window and my mind starts up the world's biggest rolladex.
    "Alpha 819, make an address in the city for a person with Respiratory Distress."
    And off we go. The circuit board fires up with a series of clicks as it sends electric signals to the emergency flashers. The electronic siren blares to life with the fury of a hard rock concert at one hundred decibels. The engine whines as we punch it to well over four thousands RPM's. While simultaneously navigating my partner, who is trying his best to avoid all the stupid people that seemed to be attracted to our ambulance like mosquitoes to a flame, my mind's eye is feverishly rolling through my rolladex. L, M, N, O, and P. Not much in Q and finally onto R. Flipping a few more cards further to Respiratory. I pluck it from its place and begin to read down the algorithm. Medical or Trauma? Well the call info was as generic as wheat toast so who in the hell knows. How about we make an assumption? Medical. Well if it's medical then what kind of medical? Is it an actual Respiratory call? Like Asthma or COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease), if so what are my treatments, what can I expect to find when I get there? Is this a Cardiac problem that is being disguised by Respiratory Distress, and if so, well that's a whole new can of beans with a whole new set of treatments and findings. Is it an Allergic Reaction, if so how bad is it? There's a saying that I have; "Prepare for the worst, hope for the best." If I go in there expecting the worst thing I have ever seen then I'll have already been prepared for it. Those calls are what we refer to as "the call". Much like in meteorology, they define storms as 100 year storms, meaning once in a 100 years it happens, "the call" is the same. It was so fucked up that you will never forget it and will never encounter it again, a ghost if you will. This might sound like the ramblings of an old cook, but if you have never experienced it, you just can't understand what it means to be in EMS.
    Fast times and long nights. It's the life I have adopted over the last 13 years. Running from call to call without a moment to stop for food or even the much needed cigarette. Running deep into the night only to stop and rest for an hour before the next. I can't tell you how many holidays I've missed or family gatherings I have been unable to attend. But I can tell you exactly how many times I've gotten sloshed at home after a tough shift, the answer; 12. I've spent many a long nights tired as hell, brain barely functioning, body screaming in protest debating a new career. Only to get a call and magically find the strength to do it all over again. So when I have those moments to stare up at the stars in quiet before the storm, I cherish them. I am reminded that the small twinkling lights are in fact bigger than our own Sun, and much bigger than any problem that I could ever have. It helps to clear my mind and remind myself why I started down this ludicrous rabbit hole.