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Some Job THIS Is: A Paramedic's Tale, Part Three (As Told By EMT Leila Isabelle Tate) by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
Saturday, September 20, 2003
A third member of the Nashville paramedic/EMT unit shares some of her experiences of being a paramedic/EMT.
Ya' gotta' understand somethin' here, folks. Bein' a paramedic/EMT is NOT a job that EVERYONE can do.
For one thing, ya' gotta' have a strong constitution; that is, ya' can't be gettin' sick at ever'thin' that comes along, an' ya' can't let your emotions get the best of you when you dealin' with people an' their problems.
When ya' do a job like I do (I been doin' this for goin' on 15 years now; I do this ta' help people when they are sick or hurtin'), ya' learn how to deal wit' people who may be drunk or stoned, or ya' learn to deal with people who are scared, sick, or possibly even dyin'. It is hard when ya' see kids who been abused, or kids who are dead cause their parent didn't watch them good, or they got into an accident of some sort; and it is hard when ya' see a young person throw his life away down th' drain by usin' drugs or booze; an' then they get into a bad accident, an' then ya' gotta' work like hell to try to bring this fucked-up person back if he or she crashes on ya'. Even if they th' scum a' th' Earth, ya' gotta' try ta' help 'em an' try ta' save 'em.
Ya' also deal wit' kids or adults who havin' a lot a' trouble wit' their breathin'; and ya' must do all ya' can to try to calm these people down. They are scared enough 'cause they havin' so much problems wit' their breathin', an' bein' scared is only gonna' make it worse. If it is a child, say a little girl, I try to reassure her that it isn't gonna' do her breathin' any good if she is scared, an' the best thing to do is relax. I then give her a soft teddybear to hold, an' I tell her to hold onto the teddy as tight as she can while Kendall or Johnny (they're my partners) mess wit' gettin' an I.V. in her arm or do a blood-gas, which, as I know from experience, hurts like hell. I tell the kid to cry an' scream if that'll make her feel better. I tell her it is okay to yell or scream; I would, too, if I were gettin' poked like that.
I also deal wit' kids who have problems like muscular dystrophy or kids who are dyin' from some horrible disease, an' it is enough to break your heart sometimes. There's this one little fellow who is all but ten an' a half, an' he has this muscular dystrophy. Poor li'l kid is in a wheelchair, an' he struggles ev'ry day wit' his disease gettin' worse; but he has more courage inside that little body than most people do; an' a kid like Johnny is somebody to be admired. He also has breathin' problems or seizures from time to time, an' we have had to go on calls to try to help him when he gets into trouble. We sometimes think that he is goin' out on us, because he looks so bad, or his vital signs are so erratic; but somehow, he always manages to surprise us, an' later on, when we see him at th' hospital, he is sittin' up in bed, askin' when he can go home or askin' for a bowl of ice cream. Kids like these are always the hardest to deal wit' because ya' know they ain't gonna' have a chance to grow up, an' it makes me so sad. But they are also among th' happiest kids I have ever met, an' ya' gotta' give kids like little Johnny Sandusky (an' others like him) a lot of credit.
Besides sick or dyin' kids, or teens gettin' into terrible car crashes, we also deal with people who be gettin' into fights over nothin' or somethin' totally off the wall; or ya' have to deal wit' cranky old people who can crump on ya' at a moment's notice; an' then ya' be tryin' like hell ta' save this person's life, wonderin' if they are gonna' yell at ya' once they come back to life for poundin' on 'em or stickin' tubes down 'em.
Ya' also have to deal wit' these people who come to America, an' they don't speak a lick of English. Then ya' have their worried family members chatterin' at you like a worried bunch a' monkeys, an' all they be doin' is gettin' in your way when ya' tryin' ta' do your job. You also have to put up with goddamn psychos who can bust straps, an' ya' have 'em strapped in like chuck; an' then...POP! There go th' straps, an' ya' have this huge gorilla of a guy goin' berserko on ya. Ya' got this big, beefy bruiser weighin' somethin' like 600 pounds goin' ballistic on ya', an' ya' are fearin' for your very life; 'cause you think YOU are gonna' be th' one who be endin' up needin' emergent care. I had a guy do that ta' me, once, an' it scared the livin' hell outta' me. I literally saw my life flash a'fore my eyes. Then this li'l Cajun nurse on a cane zapped him with Haldol, an' soon, Mr. Psycho was sleepin' like a baby. I owe my life ta' that li'l Cajun nurse; if it weren't for her, I'd a'probably be buried six feet underground, thanks to that nutcase who went nuts on me an' attacked me.
In emergency care, you see some really disturbin' things. I've seen people who been impaled, an' I seen kids or adults with parts a' their body parts just a'hangin' on by a thread, or ripped completely off; an' I seen people literally bleed out, wit' blood pourin' out ev'ry orafice, an' there's nothin' much ya' can do ta' stop th' flow. I also seen people who were crushed like a pancake from bein' pinned under heavy objects or equipment, or people's heads busted open like watermelons, their brains just a'hangin' out, from a'jumpin' out of windows in their attempt to end their lives or from accidental falls. Or you see people with shit an' vomit (an' other body fluids) all over 'em, an' they stink to high heaven; an' there is nothin' you can do 'cept try ta' help 'em (an' then there ya' are, tryin' NOT to get sick YOURSELF!). I've also seen people covered head to toe with boils, sores, burns, or blisters, an' I have seen people turn all sorts a' purty colors: blue, white, red, green, yellow, grey, even black or purple. Th' human body can turn some mighty interestin' colors when a person is sick or hurtin'. An' some a' th' smells are too incredible to describe; ya' can't imagine what a person will smell like. Sometimes they will stink so bad it will literally take your breath away.
So, if you think bein' a paramedic is a fun, excitin', or glamorous job, think again. Think 'bout what I am a'tellin' ya. Bein' a paramedic/EMT is a thankless job; ya' don't get HALF th' credit ya' deserve; an' ya' meet up with some a' th' rudest an' obnoxious people ya' can ever meet. Ya' also have to work on weekends an' forget 'bout gettin' holidays off. Ya' hardly ever get ta' see you' family 'less you NOT on call, an' if you DO see you' family, it ain't for long; 'cause it soon time for ya' to go ta' work again. Th' stress ya' are under is incredible, an' there's always th' chance of ya' bein' sued by a patient or their relatives 'cause somethin' went horribly wrong; an' you are literally responsible for another person's life. It is scary ta' think about, an' ya' are also exposed to God knows WHAT out there. There's also th' chance that Y'ALL can get hurt or end up a patient, an' when you take care a' someone ya' know or one a' you' own, then that's th' worst feelin' in the whole, entire world. Especially when that person up an' dies on ya'. Then ya' feel like th' world's biggest failure, an' then ya' wonder if bein' a paramedic/EMT really IS worth all the heartache ya' regularly gotta' experience.
what paramedics and emts have to endure day after day after day...the heartbreak...you capture the horrors they experience vividly and powerfully. i'm thankful they save more lives than lose them...when you save a life, you feel like you're on top of the world, but when there's a bad one...that stays with you, too...you torture yourself, replaying the scene over and over and over again in your mind, wondering what you could have done to change things, if you made a mistake that took your patient's life or precipitated death.
well done, one of your best--i love leila's dialect, it's like she was right there in front of you, telling her life story.
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Ya' gotta' understand somethin' here, folks. Bein' a paramedic/EMT is NOT a job that EVERYONE can do.
