Killing Us Softly

It’s no secret that sleep deprivation is a killer. Too little sleep is linked with depression, obesity, diabetes, and heart disease. We are lifesavers, but we are killing ourselves while we save others. Whether working in a system that requires overtime, working overtime to make up for low pay, or working in a busy system that requires 24, 48, or longer shifts – your life is ebbing away.

Is it worth it?

I see older coworkers who are barely able to put one foot in front of the other. They are depressed, broken, sick, and tired. Back issues, arthritis, obesity, and other burnout symptoms are rampant. It saddens me to see this.

What good does it do for us to save the whole world, but lose the lives of ourselves and our families?

When we were young we had visions of saving the world. We didn’t care about long hours and poor working conditions, we were pioneers in the exciting world of EMS and we were willing to do whatever it took to save people. My first full-time EMS job paid $4.10/hr. I worked 48/48s, and we ran 32 calls a shift. We learned to sleep and eat whenever – fortunately, most of the hospitals fed us well, and we ran our tails off. I was 21 years old and literally, living the dream! That first year, I made $6000 total.

That first EMS job cost me my marriage. I was either working or sleeping – that didn’t work well.

For the next 15 years, I got one of those elusive fire-medic positions. My pay tripled, my hours were cut by a third, and our call volume was only 10% of the big city ambulance gig. At first I was bored, but I now see how that saved my life.

I left EMS 16 years ago and completed by degree and began to work on post-graduate education. I got remarried, found a new career, and we have a couple of kids. Unfortunately, when the economy tanked, I lost my job – along with about 40 million other people. I figured that the best way to keep my house and feed my family, was to go back into EMS. So, I got re-licensed and found a job as an ambulance jockey.

It was fun to come back. I really never wanted to leave – and I always missed the challenges of transport – something many fire medics don’t get to do.

But a month ago, I had to take a medical leave. I didn’t hurt myself. I don’t have a medical condition. I am just exhausted. Because I have no seniority, I’ve been working nights. Because we had a house in the country, I’ve been commuting three hours – round-trip. It was killing me, killing my family, and destroying our quality of life.

We decided long ago that we had to move, but because we were now upside down on our mortgage, we couldn’t sell the house. Because our income is 30% less than my previous career, we were barely surviving. We drive very old cars, rarely eat out, and don’t take vacations – other than an occasional camping trip. Although we are not in debt, financially, we are in debt emotionally, physically, and medically.

Many of my younger colleagues are so eager to get the adrenaline rush they don’t see the path they’re on.

For the past few years we avoided house repairs, car maintenance, and medical/dental check ups. The co-pays are too expensive and we didn’t want to go into debt. Our lives are literally falling apart around us.

Being older, wiser, and with a few more trips around the infield, I can see this happening. The sad thing is, many of my coworkers didn’t see the job changing around them. And now they’re trapped. Many of my younger colleagues are so eager to get the adrenaline rush we all used to live on, they don’t see the path they’re on.

Something has to change – at least in the for-profit EMS world.

But even the non-profit sector has some self examination to do. Recently, I applied for a management position at a non-profit, hospital-based system. The crews work 48/96s – and apparently, this is causing some big issues. Safety and crew health are being negatively affected, but without hiring additional personnel, they can’t really change the system.

As a profession, we need to look at the issues, address the problems, and create positive solutions. What good does it do for us to save the whole world, but lose the lives of ourselves and our families?

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Tears in Rain

I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t understand.  I have images burned into my brain – that have wounded and scarred me to the core of my being.  I’ve seen things that no caring person should ever have to see.

The other day, a cop friend of mine was talking about some of the things she has seen.  She mentioned how they joke about using the MIB “flashy thing” when they retire – to erase all the things they’ve seen.

Ductus Exemplo!

Image by lumaxart via Flickr

It’s easy to complain about stuff.  In fact, without trying to hard, you can find something wrong with almost everything.  So, when one stops to think about it, complaining doesn’t take much skill, art, or imagination.  And yet, everyone seems to want to outdo everyone else in their powers of complaint.  Why is this?  What is it about our culture that makes complaining so ubiquitous?  What is it about our lives that make us unable to appreciate the good and instead focus on the negative?

If you are reading this, most likely you live in the United States – the most prosperous and richest nation in the world.  According to some researchers, even the poorest Americans are richer than 99% of the world’s population.  Yet, we still grumble, bitch, and moan.

We attribute our lack of happiness to our employers, our spouses, or our government. We seem to think that if we made more money, had a better job, or had lower taxes, our lives would suddenly become pristine journey’s of joy.  I don’t believe this is true however.  I don’t think higher wages, a better boss, or the perfect government is going to solve your problems.  Indeed, the issues of happiness probably go much deeper than this – and I’m not going to try to address them here.  However, I would like to propose one simple idea that we can all employ to better our home, work, and social lives.

How to Deal with a Grumpy Partner

Image via Wikipedia

In the old days, we would have quarters to retreat to and many distractions from one-on-one interaction. Whether it be chores, fire inspections, drills and training, or just TV – at least one wasn’t forced to interact with their partner all day.  Times have changed and employers are getting more calls out of their medics through that great invention of System Status Management.  Consequently, we spend our entire shift locked in a cage and chained at the hip to our partners.  Depending on the situation, this can be a good thing, or a bad thing.

Assuming you draw a good partner, a friendship usually unfolds and going to work can  be quite pleasant.  However, given the opposite situation, this doesn’t always work out so well.  How does one deal with endless minutes, hours, and shifts with the partner from Hell?  Dismiss the fact that we all have bad days, and overlooking some minor personality defects – which we all possess, what do we do with people who are just plain hard to be around?

The Next Step: EMS 2.0

We can’t keep doing things the way we’ve always done them, or we’ll keep getting the same results over and over again.  That’s called insanity.  We have to keep moving forward.

I ran my first EMS call in the early 70s.  I’ve been involved in this profession since I was a teenage, snot-nosed, kid.  Those early days of EMS were incredible.  CPR, Hurst Tools, Advanced Life Support, and even the 9-1-1 system brought radical life-saving to the prehospital setting.  But now I have to ask, what have you done for me lately?

This is What it’s Like

Three times in my career, I’ve treated small children who were accidentally backed over by the family car. These kids are so small, so mobile, and very quick – in a heartbeat they are where they shouldn’t be.   It’s made me very cautious when backing my car around my kids. Usually, I just bring them into the car with me – that way I know where they are.

The first kid I saw that had been backed over was in a retail parking lot. His mom had run into the store really quick and the kids took the opportunity to get into mischief. First the three-year-old boy got out of the car, then, coincidentally, his older sister took the car out of gear. Upon our arrival, we found the boy lying in the parking lot, crying. As I bent down to assess him, he began projectile vomiting – which is a terrible sign for someone with a head injury.

The Home Hotel

The real you by =Sha-X-doW on deviantART

There used to be a downtown “hotel” that was notorious to street paramedics.  Located on N 2nd Street, between Main and Oak, across from the Salvation Army.  We knew the address well, and unfortunately, we were often there at least once per shift.  Paramedics in large cities probably have numerous places like the Home Hotel, but in our city, during the 70s and 80s, few places rivaled the desperation one would find on the second floor of this transient venue.

As a young, naive EMT (not quite a paramedic), I had much to learn.  My first call to the Home Hotel was an eye opener.

The call came in just before shift change, about 7:00am. My partner and I were in a bleary-eyed stupor from a night of sleeplessness, brought on by the constant needs of a city that never sleeps.  She gave me no warning of what I was about to encounter – not to surprise me, but because it was so normal – at least to the medics who worked downtown.

Broken People, Broken System

I think one of my biggest frustrations is when people fail to see the bigger picture.  When a system plays out, just the way it is designed to operate, why do we blame the people who are merely actors in the process?  Why do we shoot the messengers?

For example, there are 30-40 million people in this country without health insurance.  Many of those people are good, respectable individuals who find themselves in a difficult, and possibly temporary, situation.  Others have been raised within a culture of poverty – social, spiritual, cultural, and financial poverty – they don’t know any other way.  It isn’t their fault they are in the situations they find themselves, and they don’t know any other way out.  Why do we blame these victimized people for the using the only system they know?