being 911
It's a really weird feeling being the people who respond to 911 calls. You show up on scene and there's people there, freaking out, always freaking out. Usually over stuff that's kinda dumb and not an actual emergency. Most of the time they could drive themselves to the hospital. But they call us instead... sometimes it's cause we're calm. Other times it's just cause that's what we've been taught to do since elementary school when something bad happens. You get the police, the fire department, and ems. It's cool. You show up on scene, calm people down, help them out, and take them to the hospital.
A lot of people I work with are really jaded. They've lost that lovin feelin'. I might lose it one day. Every call may be forgotten. But I still love it. Despite the crazy over dramatic people and the smelly homeless people. There's the call that you go on where some one really does need help and you know how to save their life, and you get to try. Sometimes you suceed and sometimes you fail. But really, it's trying. That's the cool thing. Then there's calls that you go on, like a rollover accident and the car is just crumpled paper, and there sit 2 perfectly fine teenagers, cuts, bruises and nothing more. Kinda makes you belive in luck, or fate, or like there might just be some kind of balance to karma.
But then there's days when karma is off. The nice family loses their baby. And the abusive alcoholic gets to go back home to his wife despite social services intervention. But you have to belive that God, or whoever, has a plan. Or this job would be unbearable.
Still, it's the closest thing I've ever done to being a superhero. A little boy called me a hero on my last shift. I told him that I could fly, but not to tell anyone. He believed me, and the rest of the wait at the hospital he looked at me like we shared this awesome secret and the world was great. I'm not a superhero, but I do get to help people for a living. And that's pretty darn cool.
A lot of people I work with are really jaded. They've lost that lovin feelin'. I might lose it one day. Every call may be forgotten. But I still love it. Despite the crazy over dramatic people and the smelly homeless people. There's the call that you go on where some one really does need help and you know how to save their life, and you get to try. Sometimes you suceed and sometimes you fail. But really, it's trying. That's the cool thing. Then there's calls that you go on, like a rollover accident and the car is just crumpled paper, and there sit 2 perfectly fine teenagers, cuts, bruises and nothing more. Kinda makes you belive in luck, or fate, or like there might just be some kind of balance to karma.
But then there's days when karma is off. The nice family loses their baby. And the abusive alcoholic gets to go back home to his wife despite social services intervention. But you have to belive that God, or whoever, has a plan. Or this job would be unbearable.
Still, it's the closest thing I've ever done to being a superhero. A little boy called me a hero on my last shift. I told him that I could fly, but not to tell anyone. He believed me, and the rest of the wait at the hospital he looked at me like we shared this awesome secret and the world was great. I'm not a superhero, but I do get to help people for a living. And that's pretty darn cool.