When an EMT Falls

I wrote this a while ago and had it on my old website, but re-read it and felt compelled to move it here.


March 21, 2004

Another memoir of my life changing experience being a local volley on a busy suburban first aid and rescue squad.

On Monday March 15, 2004 a local EMT was struck down and killed on a EMS call. The EMT, Jim, had parked his car on the side of a six lane divided highway (a local street here in overpopulated NJ). He crossed the northbound side, which had police cars blocking the lanes to approach the car accident with a woman having chest pain. He was run over by a woman who did not heed the police cars or flashing lights. He was 53, 11 years on the Red and White…. His own family of EMT’s were there and the first ones to attempt to save his life although they knew it would be in vain. The medics arrived, and pulled the two young members away (they were in their early 20’s).

When news of this tragedy reached the network of volunteers all over the state, everyone went into mourning…. Flags were dropped, black and purple bunting hung over doors state wide… One of our own was gone… I knew I had to go, although the trauma of such a funeral would undoubtedly open up the wounds I so painfully tried to forget of my 9-11 memories. He was one of us, not a police man, not a firefighter, but a volunteer EMT… We had to go… To show that we are there for each other.

So the evening of Friday March 20th, I set out my uniform, pressed it, and made sure all my pins and patches were on just right. I pulled out my duty shoes and cleaned and polished them to a shine.. I replaced the laces and went to sleep, thinking of my own mortality and how there were so many times that it could have been me or one of my crew.

Saturday morning, I awoke, and dressed. I made sure there were no wrinkles, no threads hanging from the sleeves. It seems like a simple thing to button up your shirt, but when you are facing a task that is so grave, so necessary, even the simple daily motions take strength… In my pockets I placed a pressed, white handkerchief and some hard candies for the lump that was in my throat.

I drove the 2 miles to my local building and met up with the other members who had all taken the same pride in their uniforms. I grabbed a clean towel and polished the chrome on our newest ambulance Alpha 2. I have a tendency to do this a lot, but this was just so therapeutic to do. We drove A-2 and our support van A-6 the 15 minute drive to the SOBFD (or as Frankie, our 76 year old volunteer who still answers calls, called them “the son of a bitches fire department”). As I drove our new ambulance, a E450 chassis with a mod box, our radio was tuned to JEMS 4. This would be our staging frequency for the service. As we drove closer, we listened to the various ambulance crews call in from all over the state call to say they were close and needed directions… Crews from the north corner of the state to the very southern tip showed up.

We parked our ambulance at the church that the service would be held at. The parking lot was full of emergency vehicles… Probably over 100 ambulances, fire trucks, and cars. They bussed us to the fire department about 2 blocks away. There was mounds of food, coffee and fruit. The three fire truck bays full of donated food for everyone. There we talked with the two young members with their dress whites on, black band over their badges about how the medics would not let them treat him.. How they felt so helpless, a feeling that we have so often as EMT’s.

We were bussed back to the church and formed a single line from the front of the church down the driveway and down the street. At the beginning was two SOBFD ladder trucks with a 30 x 60 flag between them. Rumor stated that the flag was donated by a friend of a friend of a friend that drove the flag down from upstate New York the night before. We were called to attention and then salute as the funeral procession neared the arch. In front were two motorcycle police, followed by bagpipers, (of which two were NYC, one fireman and one police). The black funeral directors van was next, with the president of the Red and White leading their ambulance. The ambulance was draped with purple and black bunting, over the front grille and the light bar. The lights were on, but covered by the shroud of death. On each side of the ambulance walked the pole bearers. Behind the entire squad marched, followed by the fire department. When the procession reached the front doors of the church we watched the scene of hundreds of uniformed people, all different colors of shirts, all different badges.. The flag flew at half staff, as a rumbling could be heard in the distance… In from the north corner flew our medical evac helicopter Northstar. It flew over head, rotors tipped to the side, and flew off to the south….We all held our breath.

We all filed into the church for the service, a tear filled one with bagpipers in the choir loft. The preacher talked about how he was a hero, how he lived and died a hero. Helping people, sacrificing ourselves to our fellow man. I think the most moving eulogy was given by the fire chief. He recited a work called “When God mad the EMT”. (I found the work on the internet and have attached it). We all cried.

We saluted as the coffin was placed back into the ambulance and then were dismissed to our own rigs. Then “the last ride” began. A procession led by the bagpipers, ambulance and police left the parking lot and went east. All ~150 ambulances with lights on, no sirens followed the last route of Jim. We went down route 9 to where the accident was, then we went to the hospital where he was pronounced, and then proceeded up route 18 past the Red and White squad building. As we entered EB on the way to the cemetery, the EB fire department had created a second ladder flag arch. With their members standing salute to both sides of the highway ramp. People stood on the sides of the street, watching this silent procession of vehicles from all over the state, Long Island, and Maryland.

When we reached the cemetery, we created a path for the pall bearers to walk to the grave site. As the clergy, bagpipers, pall bearers, family and squad members walked through, we all saluted. It was a bright blue day with a brisk wind on that hill overlooking New Jersey. Snow on the ground made our feet just as numb as our hearts. As he was laid to rest, the bagpipers played. The flag was folded, and his last call was announced. All the pagers of the rescue squad went off, their distinct tones ringing through the brisk silent day. “Dispatcher KDL112 to OBRS, this is the last call for EMT Jim D. He is 10-7 (out of service), may he rest in peace, Dispatcher KDL112”. People shook, tears flowed, I could not help it…The 21 gun salute was volleyed and taps played.
We were dismissed. I drove my crew back to our town.

I have been to funerals, and military burials, but this moving ceremony for a public servant that so many people overlook truly moved me. It was a beautiful feeling to know that we as EMT’s are part of a vast brotherhood that stretches for miles. That if we are in need there will be someone there.. Thank you.

The Itch...

So here I am, prit near 37 weeks pregnant, and all I can think about is EMS.

WTF?!?! Talk about a time in my life when I am the farthest from my passion, that I find myself reminiscing about all the old calls, the old squad, the new FD I never really even had a chance to get my teeth into before the "surprise!".

I am a trauma junkie, and find myself oohing and ahhing over the most horrific pictures I can find on the Internet of recent trauma (Thank you 1st responder broadcast network!). Then I find myself forwarding them or talking to my FF/EMT brother about them.

Will I ever get back into it like I did before children? Will I find EMS in NH is as fulfilling as riding crew in urban NJ? I do not know. When I had my pager on, it seemed all that was happening when I was home was the PITA fire alarm activations... GRRR.

Maybe it is because my 9-5 job has turned up the suck factor. That being a Biochemist has seemed hollow and meaningless lately. No great "AH HA!" discoveries or anything. That my career has turned into nothing but a job with a paycheck. (No sir, I am not disgruntled :)

Oh well.. All I can say is that in 4 weeks (+ or - 2) my life will change yet again, with a brandy new DD to turn my life upside down and show me that there is more worth fighting for.

Sallie

Sallie,

Although this dog we rescued June 2008 would never win the Lassie award, she became part of our family.

Our fond moments were her running all out around our yard. Jumping the stone wall in the front in a single bound. Digging up all the moles and voles and using them as doggie treats (our lawn never looked so good!). Running up the drive whimpering for me when my truck pulled down the road.

Our not so fond memories, peeing all over my living room rug, even though she had ample outside time. Pooping in my DD's bedroom. Eating anything left on the kitchen table when we were not looking. Snacking on the kitty poo by bringing it into the living room carpet and chowing down. Leaving 2 foot butt streaks on the carpet of my bedroom. Peeing in fear or barking when my husband entered the house. Eating miscelanious childrens toys including crayola twist up crayons. Running away from my husband and DD.

But no one deserves the end she faced. Somehow while at the kennel over the holidays, she sustained a neck injury that damaged her spinal disks. An x-ray revealed IVDD, degenerative disk disease. She was in constant pain, the slightest movement would create a minute long tirade of screaches and howls as she dropped to the floor in pain. Surgery, without any guerantees was an option, starting at about $4,000. to $10,000, and only done by a Vet about two hours away. Conservative management meant crate confinement and carrying her out to go to the bathroom. We tried it for a week. She would just roll over in the night and start screaming.

We had to make a decision. I could not let her live this way. On Friday 12/4/09 we had to say goodbye to Sallie.

She will be forever in our hearts and memories.

So young, yet so....

So yesterday I Maddie decides to wear the fuzzy flourescent green hooded vest Nana brought up for her. The front looks like something out of Sesame Street.

We walk into her preschool class the the first thing, a bunch of kids all exclaim "your shirt looks so soft, I just want to touch it!" and swarm towards her. At which point she runs for cover behind me and mumbles something.

I take her aside and ask her what she stated and this is what I got...

"Moommm, I don't want them touching my shirt, I got my flu vaccine, but did they? They probably have flu buggies!"

I did not know what to say? She is 4 for goodness sake! I had to inform her that she would not get flu buggies from the other children if they touched her shirt.. just to make sure that she washes her hands a lot, especially before eating snack, etc...

Man, by DD already is a germaphobe!

Movember

It seems that November is mens health awareness month, and my friend sent me a link to his Mo page. Seems that the Stache off theme is spreading! So it is moustache month... Guess DD had her stache too early in October.. :)