Hearts of Public Safety

-Anonymous
This piece was submitted anonymously to the Empire Fire Station under the agreement that it would be printed in the local newspaper


I wish you could comprehend a wife’s horror at 3 in the morning as I check her husband of 40 years for a pulse and fine none. I start CPR anyway, hoping to bring him back, knowing intuitively that it is too late, but wanting his wife and family to know everything possible was done to save his life.
I wish you could read my mind as I respond to an EMS call, “What is wrong with the patient? Is it minor or life threatening? Is the caller really in distress or is he waiting for us with a gun?”
I wish you could be in the emergency room as a doctor pronounces dead the beautiful five year-old girl who I have been trying to save during the past 25 minutes. She will never go on her first date or say the words, “I love you Mommy” again.
I wish you could know the frustration I feel in my cruisers or the cab of the rescue, with my foot pressing down hard on the pedal, my siren and air blasting again and again, as you fail to yield the right-of-way at an intersection or in traffic. BUT when you need us, your first comment upon our arrival will be, “It took you forever to get here!” or “What took you so long?”
I wish you could know my thoughts as I help extricate a girl of teenage years from the remains of her automobile. What if this was my sister or my friend? What is their parents’ reaction going to be when the open the door to find a police officer with hat in hand?
I wish you could know how if feels to walk in the back door and greet my parents and family, not having the heart to tell them that I nearly did not come back from the last call.
I wish you could know how it feels dispatching police officers, firemen and EMTs and feeling our hearts drop when we call them and no one answers back, or to hear a bone-chilling 911 call from a child or wife needing assistance.
I wish you could feel the hurt as people verbally, and sometimes physically abuse us or belittle what we do, or when they naively say “It will never happen to me”.
I wish you could realize the physical, emotional and mental drain of missed meals, lost sleep and forgone social activities, in addition to all the tragedy my eyes have seen.
I wish you could know the brotherhood and self-satisfaction of helping to save a life, or being able to be there in times of crisis, or creating order from total chaos.
I wish you could understand what it feels like to have a little boy tugging at your arm and asking, “Is Mommy OK?” Not even being able to look in his eyes without tears from your own and not knowing what to say.
Or to have to hold back a longtime friend who watches his buddy as he is has rescue breathing done on him as they take him away in the ambulance. You know all along he did not have his seatbelt on. A sensation that I know all too well.
Unless you have lived with this kind of life, you will never truly understand or appreciate who I am, who we are, or what our job really means to us … I wish you could though.
Appreciate and support the local EMS workers, firefighters and law enforcement officers in your area.
One day they’ll probably be saving your property or your own life.
When you see them coming with lights flashing, move out of the way quickly, then pray for them.