Let's get one thing straight...

I'm not one to get defensive about my career choice often, but some recent events have me on my soapbox. A few months ago, a young man, maybe 18 years old, working the register at a local grocery store asked me why I didn't go to college. "You seem too smart to be working on an ambulance." I'm not sure what I said or did to earn that "compliment," but it caught me by surprise. My answer did the same to him: "I did go to college, but let's get one thing straight: I didn't settle on becoming an EMT."

I entered college straight out of high school. I started as a criminal justice major, switched to English after a semester, then broadcast communications after three more. I went to two-year schools, four year schools, public and private schools. Many of my courses were enjoyable, but I couldn't find a program that left me feeling like I was pursuing something I really wanted to do.

I dropped out of college after two semesters at a state university and entered the EMS workforce full-time. I have to say it was the best decision I ever made. The opportunities that were afforded me and the experiences I gained were far greater than I ever could have imagined. I chose to abandon the "social norm" of attaining a formalized higher education in lieu of pursuing a career where I was truly happy.

I've been in EMS full-time for over a decade now, and still believe this was the best decision I ever made. The work is dirty, dangerous, and emotionally defeating at times. People bleed, cough, and vomit on me because they're too sick or injured to take care of themselves. I get sworn at, threatened, and occasionally spit on by those who don't know any better and (generally) have their judgement clouded by fear. I spend long days away from my family, knowing the only guaranteed time of my tour is the start time. All of this certainly takes it's toll, but it is also part of the job, the calling that is being an EMT.

At the end of the day, my shoulder is wet from those who needed one to cry on. My ears ring with the voices of those no one else will listen to. My hand aches from those squeezing so hard to feel the comfort of another human being. My heart hurts for those whom I cannot help more. But I pick myself up and go home, where I know my loving family is waiting for me. My son, who is so proud of what I do he tells anyone who will listen, runs and hugs me as I come up the basement stairs. My wife gives me a knowing look, understanding there are things I just won't tell her about my day. And I rest, knowing that tomorrow brings another day of helping others.

No, I didn't settle for becoming an EMT. I chose this career, and am proud that I did. If you work in EMS, I hope this rings true for you as well. No matter what tries to bring us down, we're there to help others, and each other, through the uncertain future our shift holds. If you don't work among us, now I hope you understand. We make look haggard and harried, but deep down inside we chose to make this our calling. 

Heroes Among Us

Sometimes it takes a horrible tragedy to make you realize just how special your co-workers are.  In the past few weeks, our region has been rocked by two senseless tragedies; the first in Webster and the latest today in Perinton. It's incomprehensible to think of what goes through the minds of those committing these atrocities, let alone the family and friends of those left behind, who have to ask "what went wrong?"

In both scenarios, the men and women who responded to these incidents displayed the utmost professionalism in the face of unimaginable horror. I am proud to consider these people my colleagues, and even more importantly, my friends. They have witnessed something that we're all trained to face, but hope we never have to experience, and did so with the professionalism they are expected to show each and every day.

To Alan, Ben, Dan, Dave, Kyle, Jess, Joe, John, Mike, and everyone else I may have missed, however unintentionally: thank you. Today, you are my heroes.

Excuse me, is that MRSA on your neck?

So after my last post about expecting the unexpected, I was reminded about leaving personal equipment in my car. My four year old grabbed my stethescope, which I apparently had flung into the back seat after an exhausting day, and started playing with it. Granted, he was using it properly, which made me both proud and absolutely terrified at the same time. Nonetheless, after watching him for a minute, I suddenly got this overbearing sense of fear, looked into the rearview mirror to confirm what I'd seen, and shouted "Get that off of you!" It was sufficiently loud enough to cause my wife to cover her ears and give me "the look." You know the one I mean.

I realized that my son was playing with a potentially infectious object. Granted, I try to be cautious with my medical instruments, cleaning them when possible and tossing when not. Considering the recent uptick in respiratory emergencies cropping up (tis the season to be sniffling), I realized not only was the bell of my scope carrying potentially dangerous materials, but while being around the coughing, hacking, and sneezing (oh my!), there was a good chance there were particles all over the tubing as well.  In the heat of everything, I couldn't recall whether I'd wiped the scope after my last shift.

We all know that regular, frequent handwashing helps keep the spread of diseases down. But how often do you clean your stethoscope? How often do your colleagues, the RN that just took your report, or the doctor that walked in to asses the tube placement clean theirs? Your scope should be cleaned after every patient contact. If not, the potential for spreading potentially fatal diseases is considerable. Don't limit your cleaning to just the scope. The handles of your trauma shears, penlight/flashlight, and any other re-usable equipment you touched during that patient contact should also be wiped clean prior to using again.

In New York State, the Department of Health's Bureau of EMS issued a policy statement in 1998 allowing agencies to place limits on what equipment individual providers can carry and use. It states that "Services may issue their members/employees certain items of EMS
equipment such as penlights, stethoscopes, and blood pressure cuffs, or may permit
members/employees to carry their own similar equipment." Okay, so what's the issue?

It goes on to say "Any service which issues or permits the use of personal equipment by its members/employees must have written policies in effect which clearly define which items of equipment are personal issue, and the responsibility of each member/employee for the availability, cleanliness and operational condition of each item when on duty. The service may limit what equipment members/employees may carry." For those who were waiting fo the italics to end, it essentially says that both the service and individual are responsible for maintaining their equipment. And remember...with responsiblity comes liability. Though it is probably near impossible to determine the origin of a community-acquired infection, remember that taking a few extra minutes to ensure the cleanliness of your equipment can save you a lot of trouble in the future.