Just Another Day in EMS
I delivered a baby on the ambulance gurney;
I baptized a newborn whose life ended before it began.
I hugged a frightened child;
I was kissed by an intoxicated old man.
I held the hand of a teenage girl as she delivered a 3-pound baby;
I listened to the mournful squeak of a stretcher being wheeled to the morgue.
I gently stroked the fragile hand of a 102-year-old woman;
I hesitated at the outreached hand of a 300-pound prisoner in handcuffs.
I trudged for 10-hours in my boots;
I had a teenager vomit on those same boots.
I rubbed the feverish body of a 14-year-old cancer patient;
I cradled the ice-cold hand of a child hit by a car.
I was referred to as “an angel of mercy”;
I was called every four-letter word in the book.
I always see fear in people’s eyes;
I never see joy or relief.
I listened to a tormented voice pleading for the preservation of life;
I heard the threatening words of one bent on self-destruction.
I spoke with a girl who was hoping she had the flu, not a pregnancy;
I see innocent people killed or hurt by a drunk driver, and the drunk driver is never hurt.
I marveled at the genius of a cardiologist;
I saw a 12-year-old boy who shot himself in the head, and the gun was still loaded at his feet.
I talked in circles with a schizophrenic person;
I was horrified at the battered body of a child whose parents were incapable of love.
I gazed at a horribly burned body;
I shuddered at a cold water drowning.
I see women beaten up by their spouses, but they never press charges;
I walk into houses and do CPR with the family watching over my shoulder in tears.
I arrive at serious auto accidents and the first words I hear are, “Am I going to die?”
I found out later they did die.
I listen to the repeated question, “Why?” from a family devastated by death;
I search my soul for the answers to their question.
This is just another day in EMS
Derek Perry, EMT-I
Foothill Ambulance Co.
Sacramento, CA
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