Partners...
A semi-constant concern, and an endless source of fodder for workplace discussion, is the question of who ones partner is on any given shift. I have had the position of working at agencies without set shift bids, so it's often possible for me to have a different partner for every day that I work in a month. It's hard for my non-EMS chums to understand why this relationship is so crucially important. I'll typically explain, "Well, we do live together for twenty four hours." And that's usually clear enough. But it goes much further than that alone. It's more than just sharing three meal-times, sleeping in adjoining rooms, and both needing to be within one hundred feet of an ambulance at all given hours. The shared, and intense, nature of emergency response work makes for a closeness that is not always found in day to day non-uniformed life.
An interesting aspect of the relationship between a first responder and their partner is that it requires an absolute trust in some very important matters. Sometimes the warm camaraderie that exists between crew members enhances the overall dynamic. However, in many cases, partners need to actively find a way to make hundreds of hours of working (and living) together go smoothly. And this rapport must exist even if these shift mates herald from wildly divergent backgrounds, or hold opposing moral values. Fitting a strong professional respect into alignment with a certain degree of personal disdain is a feat of denial, or the mark of an emotionally sophisticated person.
In a way, moving from the role of an Emergency Medical Technician, functioning with a more basic scope of medical practice, has made me more vulnerable at work. When I segued into a Paramedic's set of responsibilities, I found it much more difficult to concentrate on as many separate things. The clinical care for my patient became very engrossing for me. While the EMT is constantly reminded to manage the scene and also to ensure the safety of his or her crew, the paramedic often develops tunnel-vision. The medic also holds the heavy weight of responsibility for the team's welfare, but he or she is often distracted by the very real concern of the patient's welfare. As the our old adage goes, "Paramedics save people. EMTs save Paramedics." When I was an urban medic (working in a neighborhood that wrestled with crime and poor response times from police), I remember responding to medical aid calls and failing to notice very real scene safety threats. I have been pulled out of a house by an observant EMT more than once. It wouldn't be hyperbolic to say that I owe my very life to at least one partner from my past.
Sometimes I think to myself about a partner, "Trust him with your life, and your patient's. But just don't trust him." And that becomes the odd sort of disconnect, or compartmentalization, that is part of my job. I have seen the necessary closeness between partners hurt and confuse the significant others of EMTs. How does one share an experience with a shift mate that could not even spoken of with a loved one? How can somebody, that a medic might even avoid in the outside world, become their most important relationship for twenty four hours? I have come to feel that a sort of separate-ness or division is a character trait in many successful EMTs. Many of us have the 'self' that goes home to make love, put a child to bed, or to cook meals. Yet it is not the same 'self' that races to an automobile accident, jokes about tragic deaths, or witnesses profound poverty that that cannot be assuaged.
I worked yesterday with a partner that I have come to really adore, but who is my polar opposite ideologically on most defining personal issues. We have worked together for almost four years and we know each other very well by now. He perfectly compliments my patient oriented approach to compassionate medicine with a strong grasp of scene control. His management of an emergent environment is a source of inspiration to me. And, over time, we have even shared more private thoughts and feelings. Yet we are both passionately and diametrically opposed in our belief structures. We have had discussions in the past over key issues that left us both genuinely upset. Some three years later, I am just happy to know that I am on shift with a good partner who could give me that all-important tap on the shoulder when he sees a risk that I failed to notice.
An interesting aspect of the relationship between a first responder and their partner is that it requires an absolute trust in some very important matters. Sometimes the warm camaraderie that exists between crew members enhances the overall dynamic. However, in many cases, partners need to actively find a way to make hundreds of hours of working (and living) together go smoothly. And this rapport must exist even if these shift mates herald from wildly divergent backgrounds, or hold opposing moral values. Fitting a strong professional respect into alignment with a certain degree of personal disdain is a feat of denial, or the mark of an emotionally sophisticated person.
In a way, moving from the role of an Emergency Medical Technician, functioning with a more basic scope of medical practice, has made me more vulnerable at work. When I segued into a Paramedic's set of responsibilities, I found it much more difficult to concentrate on as many separate things. The clinical care for my patient became very engrossing for me. While the EMT is constantly reminded to manage the scene and also to ensure the safety of his or her crew, the paramedic often develops tunnel-vision. The medic also holds the heavy weight of responsibility for the team's welfare, but he or she is often distracted by the very real concern of the patient's welfare. As the our old adage goes, "Paramedics save people. EMTs save Paramedics." When I was an urban medic (working in a neighborhood that wrestled with crime and poor response times from police), I remember responding to medical aid calls and failing to notice very real scene safety threats. I have been pulled out of a house by an observant EMT more than once. It wouldn't be hyperbolic to say that I owe my very life to at least one partner from my past.
Sometimes I think to myself about a partner, "Trust him with your life, and your patient's. But just don't trust him." And that becomes the odd sort of disconnect, or compartmentalization, that is part of my job. I have seen the necessary closeness between partners hurt and confuse the significant others of EMTs. How does one share an experience with a shift mate that could not even spoken of with a loved one? How can somebody, that a medic might even avoid in the outside world, become their most important relationship for twenty four hours? I have come to feel that a sort of separate-ness or division is a character trait in many successful EMTs. Many of us have the 'self' that goes home to make love, put a child to bed, or to cook meals. Yet it is not the same 'self' that races to an automobile accident, jokes about tragic deaths, or witnesses profound poverty that that cannot be assuaged.
I worked yesterday with a partner that I have come to really adore, but who is my polar opposite ideologically on most defining personal issues. We have worked together for almost four years and we know each other very well by now. He perfectly compliments my patient oriented approach to compassionate medicine with a strong grasp of scene control. His management of an emergent environment is a source of inspiration to me. And, over time, we have even shared more private thoughts and feelings. Yet we are both passionately and diametrically opposed in our belief structures. We have had discussions in the past over key issues that left us both genuinely upset. Some three years later, I am just happy to know that I am on shift with a good partner who could give me that all-important tap on the shoulder when he sees a risk that I failed to notice.