Interview With An EMT

by Sherri Bailey

Having worked among those that save lives as EMT’s and Paramedics, I've wondered, "What could possibly make them choose that job?" Maybe you've asked the question yourself. It was probably after having passed by a particularly disturbing car accident or maybe while pulling your car out of the way of an oncoming ambulance, sirens wailing the sad news that someone was in need of help. Maybe you yourself are in the business of saving lives, but understandably in the midst of long shifts and endless mountains of paperwork, you have somehow forgotten how it was you answered that question in the beginning.

So, why does a person choose to pursue a career in emergency services? What could possibly possess someone to spend his or her lives knee deep in human suffering in its most primal form? There are an abundance of neater, safer and certainly better paying jobs within the field of medicine. Why not spend your days in a sterile office, wearing colorfully decorated, clean scrubs, listening to classical music piped into bright offices, surrounded only by children with stuffy noses and stressed out thirty-somethings with migraines? Certainly the hours are better and in most cases the pay far exceeds what their ambulance-riding counterparts can ever hope to make.

Recently I had the opportunity to speak with someone for whom I have a great deal of respect. She is an EMT-I, the mother of two and the wife to a Paramedic. She was generous enough to allow me to prod around in her most private thoughts in search of an answer to my question. In deference to her privacy I will not use her real name, but will refer to her as Rose. The desire to become an EMT was instilled in Rose when she was only a child. As she watched her beloved father battle and eventually succumb to his life threatening illness, something inside her took notice of the medical professionals that expertly and lovingly cared for him and a desire to become that kind of person was birthed. Upon her high school graduation, while most girls were either marrying or heading off to a sorority, Rose enrolled in the local EMT class. If I asked you to picture your idea of a female EMT, I feel certain you would never envision Rose. By most standards she is small and by all standards, quite pretty. A tiny thing with bouncy chestnut hair full of golden highlights and a thoughtful personality, Rose would have been a stand out in any profession. Her hands, small and almost fragile looking, seem more suited to holding a piece of chalk to a blackboard than pumping the chest of a dying man. I began with the single most over asked question of those in the field of emergency services.

"What would you say has been your most memorable moment?" Even as I asked the question, my mind conjured visions of blood-spattered accident scenes and all the drama that accompanied them. That's how we think, those of us on the outside. We easily sum up this profession as merely one grisly episode after another. We imagine the answer to this customary question will disclose a personality that is only truly alive when in the middle of a critical incident. "I don't know that I could pick just one moment," Rose answered, considerate enough not to remind me that she had heard this question a thousand times before. "The times when people give you a hug and say thank you makes the job worth it. I like to have a call that has a good outcome, like a code save. It’s great to see that same person that was so close to death talking to you the next day."

I will admit that even knowing Rose personally, I was surprised at her answer. She made no mention of the stirring events she had unquestionably been witness to over her eight years as an EMT-I. "Has there been one moment then, that you knew you were in the right profession?" I asked. "I don't think I could pinpoint just one moment," Rose answered thoughtfully. "There have been several times when things happened that took my breath away. Times that made me think, ‘Wow... that is why I do this‘.” She continued, "It feels good to know that you had a part in helping someone have another birthday; another day with their wife or husband. Another day to hold their child." "But, what about the bad part of the job", I asked. "Watching someone you know die, or seeing someone you know hurt or sick," came her simple answer. I couldn't help but wonder if she was thinking of her Dad. "The pediatric calls are always bad,“ said Rose. “There is always the dreaded 'baby not breathing call' lurking out there."

Knowing Rose is the mother of a young son not yet a year old, the significance of what she was saying was not lost on me. And then she added, "I find it hard at times to grasp that there is nothing else I can do for this patient." I thought about what it must feel like to leave your own children behind in the care of someone you trust so that you can go to work to save someone else’s children. What must it feel like to hear those words dispatched over the air, “Report of a baby not breathing”? Would your throat tighten for just a moment while the horrible thought crossed your mind, “Is it my son”? “And what if you went to work one day," I asked, playing devil's advocate," and your department announced budget cuts that would affect your salary. What then?" "I might have to get another job or work extra but this is what I am supposed to do with my life right now," she answered. "It isn't always about money." That's right. Even faced with doing the same demanding job for less money, Rose would get up and go to work. It was at this point in our interview that the light went on for me. "Sometimes I can't imagine not working the field,” Rose said. “We get to see so much more. Good or bad... it changes your life forever."

And so ended my short interview with Rose. My question was answered. It’s not for recognition or money or thrill these dedicated men and women serve. It isn't for the fondness of the siren's cry or the pounding adrenalin rush. It's for me. It's for you. It's for that seventeen-year-old lying on the roadside that needs to celebrate his eighteenth birthday. It’s for the woman that believed she had no reason to live another day, until nearly too late, she realized the gravity of what she had done. It’s for the future children and grandchildren of the tiny baby that lies in that delicate place between life and death. To respect a person is a wonderful thing, but to admire them is something altogether different. While I have always respected Rose, I now say without reservation that I admire her. While I sit at my computer and write about making a difference, Rose gets dressed every day and heals the world one person at a time. She is an Emergency Medical Technician and I thank God for her and for the thousands of men and women just like her. And so, the next time I pull my car out of the way of an oncoming ambulance, I won’t have to wonder, “What could possibly make them choose that job?” I know it isn’t what, it is who.

Sherri Bailey may be contacted at http://www.momandhermoney.com sher@momandhermoney.com. Click here to view more of their articles. Sherri Bailey is an author specializing in inspirational writing for the Christian stay at home and work from home mother.