Graphic / Triggering - I don't know what to title this.
As I mentioned before, I'm an EMT, and for those of you who don't know what that is, I'm sort of like a paramedic. I work on an ambulance, you know, for 911. We have stressful job, most people would agree. There's lots of death around us. Even people who don't die with us... well, we can look at them and know that they won't make it. They're already dead, just their body hasn't realized it yet.
And, as unfortunate as it sounds, we get used to it. That doesn't mean that it doesn't affect us, but it's not supposed to bother us to the point where it interferes with our life. They give us methods of coping with it, if we can't, ourselves. And, they don't ask us if we want it - after all, some people's reaction is to deny that they need help. This is called CISD, or Critical Incident Stress Debriefing. They have everyone who was involved in a particularly bad scene get together, along with usually two psychiatrists, hired by the department.
They have you talk about how you feel, all of that bullshit that I'm so used to. Normally... I don't really need the CISD. Sure, things trouble me, but they never truly bother me. They don't make me feel... well, like this. I suppose I'll start from the beginning, and if some of you missed the... er... labels you have here, this is going to be pretty graphic. I don't like half-assing things, and that includes me describing things.
Today was a pretty shitty day, period . Seeing as my shift started at 4 am, it wasn't too hot, but it was pretty unpleasant here. Normally, that's fine. I'll complain and joke about it while I'm in the garage with my partner, but once I get into the truck, everything's a-ok. Except, this time, it kind of wasn't. Our truck decided that we didn't need AC today. Nothing we could do about it, so we just grit our teeth and went on.
As the day went on, it got hotter. It was around 110 degrees Fahrenheit here, and it gets hotter in the ambulance because you've got people breathing - adds to the moisture - and because of the engine and all sorts of things - sources of heat. It was kind of bad. We were very tired after making a few runs. When things quieted down, we thought we'd stop by a store, buy something to eat and drink. But, before we could park, dispatch called us again.
And I thought that something had to have been wrong, then. It was some kind of joke, someone thought they were being funny.
Or, as my partner likes to say, "Dispatch be trippin."
The address we were sent to was that of one of my good friends.
One of the occupational hazards of being in the medical field, I guess.
But, I couldn't believe it. It couldn't have been them. It can't be. Life doesn't work that way. God isn't a fucking prick like that.
Right?
Right?
I asked dispatch to repeat the address. She repeated it, and then we got the print out. It was them.
Then she told us that the police were on scene, and it appeared to be clear.
Police?!
No one said anything about fucking police. Why were they there? They shouldn't be there, that's bad!
It's a good thing I wasn't driving the truck, or we would have gotten into an accident. I could have refused the call, on the account that I knew the potential patient, but it didn't occur to me to do so, then. I almost never panic when it comes to things like this, but right then and there... I was panicking.
That's my Goddamn friend you're talking about there.
We get there, and there are police, yes. Lots of them, actually. And it was a weird sort of silence. There was noise, yes. People were talking, moving things around, there was someone taking pictures... but I didn't hear any of that. Or, rather, I heard it, but I sort of ignored it. It didn't exist for me. Someone came up to us, beckoning with his finger. I remember his hand, oddly enough. He had a silver ring on it, a bright silver ring. It looked too big for him, just by a bit. It slid as his finger moved, instead of fitting snuggly.
His nails were really clean, too. Neatly trimmed, like he actually took care of them. And his fingers were pretty big. He had such a bigger hand than mine. He was saying something, too. His mouth was moving, forming words. But I couldn't hear them.
I couldn't.
In fact, all I could do was see.
The policeman was standing in the doorway to my friends' house. My friend was a neat person, and his new wife (new as in they just recently got married) had a taste for art. I always admired their odd and wacky furniture. But it wasn't neat anymore. Things were thrown all over the floor, broken... just a mess, in general. So not like them.
And he was speaking quickly, now. Should I be listening? What's going on?
But then, there was his wife, on the floor. She appeared to be bludgeoned - hit in the head many times with something hard and large. Perhaps the bottom of a pistol?
He was shouting now. I could hear him, now... finally. And my partner, behind me.
I was standing still, staring. I wasn't supposed to do that.
We are an ALS unit, so I simply did what my partner told me to do. I'm the EMT, and as that, I'm supposed to assist the paramedic if I'm on an ALS unit. She was... in horrible condition. She was still alive, amazingly enough. But... there was a lot of blood. She had battle's sign, and raccoon eyes 0 tell-tale signs of the swelling of the brain, bleeding in there... bad. Very bad. She was shivering, almost. Trembling. Yellowish foam came from her mouth, occasionally.
I suctioned it away, so she could breathe, but there'd always be more. She was intubated, but it was so difficult to get the tube into her mouth. Her jaw was clamped shut. We had to pull, try to pry it open. All this while she was shivering, as if electricity were running through her body.
And, we had no air conditioning.
I was sweating, it was in my eyes, stinging. And I was exhausted. I still am, I think. I don't know. But it didn't matter then, did it? She died. You don't need to know how, or all of the details.
Nor, do I think you want to.
But, she died. I couldn't save her.
My friend's wife.
He did so many good things for me, and I did good things for him, too. He was a good man, and I loved her, too. Very much. She was a sweet woman, she sometimes took care of my son when he was ill, and neither I or my husband were able to. (Before anyone asks, yes, I'm male. I'm bisexual, and no, we're not legally married, but neither of us care about that). She didn't deserve this.
I later found out that she happened to come home early from work, only to discover that they were being robbed. Unfortunately, she caught the robber while he was inside of the house, and did it in such a way that he couldn't safely escape. The guy panicked, of course, and... well...
We had that stupid CISD. Of course we did. I had to go. It's mandatory. But it didn't fucking help. My friend's WIFE is DEAD. Because I let her die. I should have saved her, and I couldn't even do that.
But, of course, I didn't say that.
Them, with their not caring. And, they don't care. They're just doing their job. They deliver their questions so well that they have to be rehearsed. They sound fake, and they can't be anything but. I didn't tell them anything. I just told them that I was upset she died - I couldn't lie about that. That much was obvious.
But I as good as killed her.
What am I going to tell my friend? I let his wife die. They were talking about having kids. They can't do that anymore because of me.
I couldn't tell them that... it isn't what they want to hear. They don't care, they're strangers. The bad kind.
You're all strangers, too. But... I thought I'd try. I don't meant to insult anyone here, but I... doubt anyone can really help me. It's easier to write about this than to talk about two people who have probably seen so much of this they don't give a fuck. And, I thought I'd try for my friend - not the one whose wife I let die, but my friend who wanted me to join this forum.
Well, Dru. I tried. You can't say I didn't anymore.
I don't know how I feel. It's not numb. I know how numb feels. But I feel so strange.
Unstable?
I don't know.
I let her die.
I was going to work more, today. I answered their questions as they wanted me to, so that they'd fuck off and let me work. But, as it's so hot, and our ambulance doesn't have an air conditioner, they told us to just go home.
I'm fine, really. Aren't I?
I just let my friend's wife die.
Fdsgfssd fsdf! gfsdd... fgsdfsdf. Fddsfd. Did you understand that? No?
Good. Neither did I. Glad we're on the same page.
Katan is my daughter. Yeah, I'm 28 and she's 24. My sex-drive was just amazing when I was 4.
clearly im not gonna understand what you going through but you need to remember one thing YOU DID NOT LET HER DIE!!!! from what you described it was very unlikely she would have made it whoever treated her. you did your best for her and her husband and your friend will not blame you.... its the f****r that did it to her not you!!
think you need to talk about it with someone tho even if it isnt with the nomral cisd, but please take care, YOU ARE NOT TO BLAME!!! xxx hug xxx
this pic is so i can always remember jen who was my l'il sock monkey friend who has left ryl and i miss her!!!
I too have guilt about letting people die when i should have been able to help them (i was a baby at the time and my brother and sister died- so it is differnt but i can relate to that guilt and pain you are feeling because you feel you should have done something)
And i know from experience that what ever i say will not help you get past this..it will not make you feel any less worse..what you are feeling is what you are feeling and noone has the right to say you should not feel like that!
all i can say is, from what you have written it sounds like you tried so hard to help her! what else could you have done? And i know you probably so many answers to that question but realisticly you did everything you could! and i can almost hear you saying "yes but that wasnt good enough" BUT you are not super human! you had amazing courage to help her the way you did!
you were the last thing she saw! which must have been a comfort to her and your friend will always know she was not alone when she died she had someone that cared so deeply for her!
You have everyright to feel how you feel just please please try to rationalise the role you had in this..you were their to save her not kill her! the robber is the person who killed her! and they will have to live woth that for the rest of your life!
Morn..you must let yourself morn but not for what you feel you didnt do but for her death! You are amazing! do not try and brush this under the carpet it will just get harder and harder to deal with!
What can I say that hasn't already been said? I know you know the difference between killing someone, and trying with all you have to save someone. This outcome was not your intention, and it wasn't your fault. You did the best you could. Sometimes these things are just out of our hands.
God is the only one who sees me as beautiful now, and the eyes of God are the only eyes I care about...
Please stop blaming yoursef, as everyone has already said, and I'm sure you know, deep down that you did not LET her die. You tried, you were in shock, you were scared but you snapped into action and did what you could. The way you described her injuries, it really doesn't sound like she would have made it through.
There is nothing you cuold have done to stop what happened, it's horrible and people in this world never cease to amaze me with their actions, I hope they catch the person that did this to your friend.
You are amazing for the work you do, and if it hadn't been you there trying to save her, it would have been someone else. And then would you not be thinking, what if I had been there, would I have been able to save her?
There is no need to feel the guilt in this hun honestly. Nothing to feel guilty for.
Let yourself grieve, as you said, you loved her, and you love your friend who was married to her. You have lost a friend but you didn't kill her. And you can surely be of some comfort to your friend having lost his wife, him knowing you were there, knowing what happened, that everything possible was done to save her.
Having never been through anything like this, my words might seem empty and no of course I don't understand, but I CAN understand how you must be feeling and I do feel for you, honestly. Please don't let yourself think it was your fault, please let yourelf grieve, please please, take care of you.
I doubt very much anything I have said has helped but I hope it has, even if it's in a very small way.
I'm sorry about what happened. It wasn't your fault, in the slightest. It was an awful thing to happen, but you did all you could. The only person responsible is the one who did it. Not you. I don't know what I can say that hasn't already been said, or that will make you believe us. But at least know that we're saying it because we believe it's true. And I hope you can see that one day.
Hun were you the one that hit her in the head? No. Simply put that is the 'way around it' as you put it. You did not kill her.
I understand that things we say might be hard to take right now while it's still so raw, but I really hope that in time you will come to realise that we are right, and that your guilt starts to melt away, as you have done nothing to feel bad for.
Take care, I hope you start feeling better soon xxx
You need to talk to a professional about this, because there are only so many words you can read off of the internet that'll just rebound off of this numb surface you've put up as a reaction.
Find someone not related to work, or who maybe is and has gone through the same experience and talk it out with them. They will understand you the most, and they can tell you how to get past it.
You need to talk to a professional about this, because there are only so many words you can read off of the internet that'll just rebound off of this numb surface you've put up as a reaction.
Find someone not related to work, or who maybe is and has gone through the same experience and talk it out with them. They will understand you the most, and they can tell you how to get past it.
I don't have anyone that I can talk to, like that, outside of work. I like my co-workers, but I don't want to mention that this bothers me. I don't want them thinking that I'm can't handle the job. I don't like it when people think I'm a weak person.
I'm also afraid it'll cause me to possibly get fired. I'm sure the company doesn't need someone like me because it costs them money and is probably a hassle with the paper work and such. I know people try to give you the impression that they care about how their workers are and such, but once someone is too much trouble, they get rid of them.
Or maybe they won't. I don't know.
I know there isn't enough EMS personnel as it is.
Fdsgfssd fsdf! gfsdd... fgsdfsdf. Fddsfd. Did you understand that? No?
Good. Neither did I. Glad we're on the same page.
Katan is my daughter. Yeah, I'm 28 and she's 24. My sex-drive was just amazing when I was 4.
I suppose I'll try to to talk to my partner, that was there with me, that day. I have him again, today, for the night shift. He's been there a while, so maybe he can tell me what I can do.
I hope it's not to talk to one of those psychiatrists that came out for the CISD. I'm not talking to either of those fucking pricks. I swear I won't.
And I don't want to see a psychiatrist again, anyone of them. I hate talking to them. They make me feel so small and stupid, even though I realize that they want to help me. I used to see a good one, Sosnoevski. She's a good woman, and all... but I was so proud of not having to see one anymore. I dreaded going there.
I'll find out, tonight, what I'm doing. I suppose I can let you guys know what's going on when I come back at 7:15-ish am.
Fdsgfssd fsdf! gfsdd... fgsdfsdf. Fddsfd. Did you understand that? No?
Good. Neither did I. Glad we're on the same page.
Katan is my daughter. Yeah, I'm 28 and she's 24. My sex-drive was just amazing when I was 4.
How did it go last night hun? I hope you had a chance to talk to your partner, and I hope you got some good advice.
Take care sweetie, we are all here for you. xx
All right... I did speak to my partner. He's been with EMS for quite a long time, and he's a medic, so he's seen some crazy things. He told me that one of the calls he took for a code (meaning, the person is in cardiac arrest) was for his father. His father also didn't survive - it was his time to go, I suppose. He said he acted very much like I did.
He insisted that he'd killed his own father, and wouldn't listen to anyone for a long time, anyone who said otherwise. He did speak to the CISD guys, unlike me, but he didn't feel that they were helping him. He sat down to talk with his mother, whom he'd been avoiding
- like me, I won't talk to my friend, he's been calling me, and I haven't the heart to return his calls, I'm afraid of what he'll say -
at the time, because he was afraid that she was angry at him, but she wasn't. She was glad her son would still be there for her. He said, it took him a long time, but he finally accepted that he hadn't failed him, that it was just his time to go.
Well, it wasn't Rachael's time to go. She was far too young, younger than me. It wasn't her time at all. I still don't know, but Bill will be joining us for dinner this weekend. I hope he likes my cooking.
Fdsgfssd fsdf! gfsdd... fgsdfsdf. Fddsfd. Did you understand that? No?
Good. Neither did I. Glad we're on the same page.
Katan is my daughter. Yeah, I'm 28 and she's 24. My sex-drive was just amazing when I was 4.
Awh well I'm glad you spoke to someone about it hun, must be good to know he's been through something similar?
And I'm glad you've taken the step towards talking to your friend, having him over for dinner...its a great step as hard as it may be. I'm proud.
It's hard to understand when people die so young especially at the hand of a violent crime, but if it hadn't been her time she wouldn't have gone. It's ceratinly not going to be easy accepting this in any way but I really hope you can, and start to move on. Take care hun. xx
this pic is so i can always remember jen who was my l'il sock monkey friend who has left ryl and i miss her!!! 
