Public Perception

If it's not one thing, it's another. This week, news broke of a second FDNY social media controversy, this time an EMT Lieutenant who's Twitter handle was "Bad Lieutenant." When confronted by the media about controversial tweets, the Lieutenant broke down, stating "my life is ruined." You can read more about the story here. This follows last week's news of the son of an FDNY Commissioner who resigned after racial, anti-Semitic messages were revealed on his Twitter account; more about that story here.

When I first became involved in public safety many years ago, one of the first pieces of information I learned was that my actions are representative of not only me, but also my organization and my profession. If this is indeed the case, we're all in a lot of trouble, and not just because of the few instances mentioned above. Over the past few years, investigations have been started over molestation in the back of ambulances, drug diversion, certification scams, service delays...the list goes on and on.

We work in a profession where we are always in the public eye, on duty or off. We live in a world where we are connected to the world nearly every second of the day. We have access to social media accounts such as Facebook and Twitter where we sound off on everything from the joys of life to our deepest held beliefs. With the privacy policies of these sites changing frequently, it's often difficult to keep anything truly "private" anymore.

We, as a profession, need to start policing ourselves better. We are expected to provide services regardless of race, ethnicity, origin, religion, sexual orientation, gender, etc. We are held responsible for the safety and well-being of those within our care, and should treat everyone we encounter with respect.

Are there are abuses within the system we operate in? Yup. Are they going to be fixed anytime soon? Nope. Is it fair to heap scorn on a particular "class" based upon the actions of a few? Absolutely not.

"Keep Calm, Carry On"

Surely you're seen various evolutions of the British propaganda slogan, "Keep Calm Carry On." I recently found myself using this phrase after receiving disappointing news on a job opportunity. I realized that repeating this when feeling down  seemed to lift my spirits. You see, I realized that no matter what happens in my personal or professional life, nothing is worth getting overly worked up about, and that sometimes being stopped cold gives us a chance to re-think our approach and outlook on opportunities.

I truly believe that everything happens for a reason. After initially feeling frustrated over the news, I took some time to  evaluate where I went wrong. What happened next seemed unfathomable: I began thinking that sometimes we need doors closed in our faces. We often see the "closed door" as a sign of failure, but maybe we should see it as a sign of success.

This sounds like an odd concept, but think of it this way: did you ever consider that your success in a certain niche is vital to the organization? Have you stopped to consider that maybe you are valued more in your current role than you would be in a larger role? While people are certainly replaceable, sometimes the knowledge, dedication, and work ethic are not. Sometimes, in order to keep moving forward you have to maintain your pace while others sprint past.

Where am I going with this? During my introspection, I found that I have found the most success in an area others seek to avoid. I've re-evaluated my definition of "success" and found that while one door closed, the windows are open and I'm enjoying the view.

Keep calm, carry on.

Loss

Over the past several months, there has been much ado over the loss of life in emergency services. Tragically, in December, two firefighters in a neighboring district were fatally wounded and two others sustained serious injuries in an ambush (read my original blog post on this topic here). But not every loss is directly associated with line-of-duty emergency service activities.

A month ago today, some former colleagues woke to hear one of their own had died suddenly the previous night. He was in his 20s. This loss affected me as well, as I had the privilege of calling him one of my employees for some time. Due to weather and work, I wasn't able to pay my respects to this great young man, and I'm disappointed that I wasn't able to say goodbye. Thankfully, I still have memories to remind me of the time we shared together.

As emergency services providers, we are faced with loss on a regular basis. Despite what we find, we are expected to remain calm, composed, and professional at all times. But how long can you honestly hold all of that sadness inside? There are too many times where we bottle up our emotions, saddle up and take off on the next run. In reality, you need to have a healthy outlet for your emotions, a coping mechanism to activate when the dam's ready to burst.

As professionals, we need to be able to support each other in times of need. What you may consider a tough call may not be viewed the same by others and vice versa. We need to look out for each other, asking "hey, are you okay?" when it looks like someone's feeling lost. Taking someone aside, out of the public eye, and giving them a chance to talk quietly, vent, cry, whatever they need to do, is something we can all do for each other. Telling others to "suck it up, it's part of the job" isn't appropriate. As many wise men have said before, the day you stop caring is the day it's time to find a new job.

What's my point for all this? It's simple: understand that personal loss is an everyday part of our calling. Often we're called to respond to the loss, sometimes it affects us directly. Your ability to keep a healthy outlook and cope with it is what marks you as a true professional.

Until next time, stay safe and look out for each other.

Moral Obligations

In the news yesterday was a story of a "retirement facility" nurse in Bakersfield, CA who refused to perform CPR on a resident (911 Recording Details Calif. Dispatcher's Struggle). Reading this article, I felt the frustration of a Dispatcher who was doing everything they could to urge someone to provide potentially life-saving care. I sympathize with the Dispatcher, because I too was in a similar position.

As a certified Emergency Medical Dispatcher, I am permitted to instruct callers on performing certain pre-arrival instructions for instances such as life-threatening bleeding, childbirth, choking, and cardiac arrest. I've unfortunately been on the receiving end of a similar call with a patient who was reportedly choking, not moving any air, and the caller was vehemently refusing to provide any care. The reason for the refusal? "We're looking to see if there's a DNR on file." I about lost it, informing the caller that a Do Not Resuscitate order is not a "Do Not Treat" order and that choking is not a natural form of death, so the argument was invalid. The caller continued to refuse over my myriad instructions and the end result was as expected. Those emotions came flooding back as I read the headline and subsequent story.

Unfortunately, cases like this are not as uncommon as you may think. Many "retirement communities" have medically-certified staff on location who are not permitted to perform any interventions as a matter of policy, no matter how misguided you may find that policy to be. Lawyers have advised these communities that performing medical interventions is a "significant risk," and therefore the communities establish these rules presumably to protect their staff from liability. However, at which point do we as human beings push policy aside to fulfill what many would call a moral obligation?

As a pre-hospital care provider, I have a duty to act when I'm acting in my professional capacity as an EMT. I also have a duty to act when I'm acting in my professional capacity as a call-taker or Dispatcher. When I'm off-duty and out with family or friends, I no longer have a duty to act, but I do have what I would consider to be a moral obligation to provide assistance to someone in need of care for a life- or limb-threatening situation. Does this mean I stop at every car accident and render aid? No; I don't have the equipment I need to provide care. Does it mean that I would drop and start CPR on a bystander if necessary? Absolutely. I have all the equipment I need to provide several minutes of potentially life-saving care: good, quality chest compressions. Besides, this is a human life we're talking about.

Why can't more people follow their moral compass instead of bowing to corporate pressures of compliance in this type of situation?