Retiring just before the virus hit, friends and relatives commented on more than one occasion how “lucky” I was to have avoided the pandemic following a healthcare career. The comments reminded me of past musings and a few revelations by other responders around me over the years. Looking over my shoulder for two and a half years, I eased into a pretty jammy position.
I remember a firefighter friend expressing disappointment he missed a multiple alarm fire one frigid winter day at our old downtown YMCA. A police officer I knew voiced his regrets about missing a call that involved some danger back in the day. Decades ago, watching the evening news, I looked on at the local review of events. I must have sounded like a “rubbernecker” citizen reacting to a nasty highway 401 crash eager to respond to the call. Most responders would be able to say they have experienced similar thoughts.
If the urge, desire or drive was not in your blood to start, a true responder will tell you the job does work its way in there. As difficult as the circumstances get, and the scenes can be overwhelming at times, the excitement, challenge and satisfaction of helping others can leave you with that albeit brief, warm fuzzy feeling. I never met a first responder that woke up in the morning wanting to see citizens in distress, medical, legal or a life-safety dilemma. More often than we care to admit, responders get the shivers thinking, “that could have been my family or me,” and keep working.
Unless you are a surviving centenarian, most of us live in unprecedented times. We have witnessed some nasty conflicts, been a part of tremendous technological advances, bad and good times. Now, the world is smack dab in the middle of this f***ing pandemic. The latter seems to have dwarfed many of the more pleasant experiences in my life. Wars and technology affect the world around us and are in our faces day by day, year after year. But not like the pandemic.
You can turn your television off or push electronic devices aside and hide briefly from the virus. That advice has helped lots. When you or your family and friends are sick, or when you see the responses to the virus every time you go out in public, it wears you down. The turning point for me was the recurring news that our paramedics are overwhelmed, not just locally but everywhere, suffering extraordinary stress levels. I can relate to that.
The ad in social media posts from my old friends brought the situation into focus.” Hiring immunizers” for clinics in our county. The old lights and siren days are a fading memory. I will leave that assignment to the young professionals. But, and it’s a real but, if brushing up and serving again can help, I am all in.
I used the term “all in” in a letter submitting my intention to retire. I was describing my overzealous energy level from my childhood in EMS. Next week will be a personal litmus test. I wonder if a German Shephard will eat my lunch on my first day. They say history often repeats itself. That story is front and centre in RUNNING REDS.
This opportunity will be a test. If my efforts add to the process, I will return to the trenches for a while to support old and new friends. The experience at this stage leaves me feeling like a moth heading for the light. I hope the brightness ahead is not bearing down on me like a truck.
Today, first responders and healthcare workers serving on the front lines have my most profound respect. It isn’t the “good old days” anymore. I believe I got away unscathed by the whole experience. We are graced with highly trained and dedicated individuals working like never before. They need support both from within their organizations and beyond. I think I meet the beyond criteria, though I’m more of an over-the-hill kind of guy.