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Paramedic Stories, Part XXIX; The Heart Behind The Hero...(By Nico Hernandez, EMT) by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
Wednesday, December 8, 2004
Rated "G" by the Author.
An EMT fairly new to the city of Nashville shares the gratitude he feels in knowing he has made a difference in a person's life.
I may not have written in here, but that doesn't mean that I haven't been busy because I HAVE. I am a EMT, and most of the time I love my job, especially when I save a person's life and bring him/her from the brink of death. That is probably what is most gratifying to me.
My name is Nico (Nicolas) Manuel Ortega De Hoya Hernandez (whew! Long name, I know!), but most of my friends (or my coworkers) call me Nico. It's simpler that way. I moved here to the Nashville, Tennessee, area from Beaumont, Texas about a year back, and I have since made a new batch of friends and have come to learn about my new home and its denizens. Nashville is a very big city, yet it is populated with (mostly) friendly people, and despite its size, there is an air of "suburbia" not found in most larger cities, and it feels like...well, HOME. I love the changing seasons here, and I love the scenery, and I love working alongside Nashville's Finest: they are some of the most dedicated, hardworking, caring people I have ever met in my life!
I have come to know some of my patients quite well; some of them I see more than once, such as the Sandusky family, which is this family made up of a caring couple in their 30's who adopted a whole bunch of kids with serious disabilities (some of their kids have serious medical or physical problems that require our services from time to time, such as the one girl, Ronee' Le-Anne, who has a long standing history of bronchial asthma and serious allergies--including a potentially lifethreatening allergy to bee stings--, and her brother, Johnny, who has numerous physical issues involving his walking or strength, his heart, and his breathing; plus he has a seizure condition and other physical challenges), M'Buti Ayala Moore-Sormiento (this young woman who was born in Africa who has fainting episodes due to abnormally low blood pressure, and still has some residual problems due to a bout of necrotizing fasciitis--"flesh-eating disease"--she had several years back; she also had serious burns not long after she arrived here in the United States from her native Africa), Armand Moliere' (he has serious heart issues, and last year, he nearly died after having open heart surgery; somehow he survived, and he is doing much better now, although, once in a while, his heart acts up on him, and we have to go over to the Sandusky residence to check him out to make sure he is okay), MacKenzie Grace Hollister (a little kid who nearly froze to death several years back and now has severe brain and physical damage; she is unable to walk or do much for herself), Hezekial Michael Rosenberg (a little kid who was pulled from the water, blue, limp, and lifeless; he too was left with severe brain and physical damage), Honee' Jackson (a little girl who was shot in the face; she now faces years of reconstructive surgery to fix her damaged face), Helga Yoder (this elderly woman who has a whole host of serious medical problems, including diabetes, heart and lung trouble, cancer, and God knows what else, yet, she still keeps on plugging away and surprising us yet again after we care for her), and Tyrone Reynolds (this teenager who was brutally stabbed and attacked by gang kids; he is now a vegetable, yet his devoted family insists on caring for him at home), to name a few. During a run I can be counted on to see one or all of these people on a fairly regular basis; and we have all since built up a good rapport with each and every one of them. They have since become some of my (and my department's) favorite patients, and we try to do all we can to ensure that these special people in our lives survive and have a chance at "making it".
To these people (and their families), we are nothing short of gods in their eyes: we are the sun, the moon, and the stars, and to them, we are more important than any high-paid athlete or actor: we tend to rank right up there with the Man Upstairs, and to tell you the truth, that makes us feel pretty good. All we are doing is our job: helping people in need, yet, to those we save or help during our runs, we shine, and nothing can change their opinions. These grateful people are always sending us stuff, be it cookies, cakes, or other home-made recipes, cards during Christmas or our birthdays, or even new sweaters or scarves that they personally handknit or crocheted for us, "so we can keep warm" when the weather is less than ideal out.
These people are always waving at us when we are at the store, or they see our rescue vehicle go by; they acknowledge us as caring friends, and they are awfully glad to have us around.
To tell you the truth, so are we. The feeling is mutual. If it were not for people like little Johnny Sandusky, little Ronee' Le-Anne Reaux (I STILL have trouble with her last name!), sweet, elderly folks like Armand Moliere' or Helga Yoder, or close, caring families like the Sanduskys, Rosenbergs, Hollisters, or the Reynoldses, we would not have a job because these people have come to rely on our services, and they think the world of us. Back in Beaumont, I don't remember the people being this friendly: back home in Beaumont, people were oftentimes nasty, and a lot of the time, your life was in danger. Here, for the most part, I feel safe, and people here are much nicer. I am glad, awfully glad, to have come to a city like Nashville, and I have come to love my paramedic brothers and sisters like my very own family back in Texas!
I may not have written in here, but that doesn't mean that I haven't been busy because I HAVE. I am a EMT, and most of the time I love my job, especially when I save a person's life and bring him/her from the brink of death. That is probably what is most gratifying to me.
