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I need someone 2 talk 2.
I typed this once... And this damn system deleted it. I have been having some thoughts lately about weather or not I should be doing this fire department/ambulance stuff. Let me start with the beginning, I've been an EMT for about five years. Very rural/wilderness, lots of MVA's, hunting accidents/shootings, stabbings, suicides... The thing is, the bad memories outweigh the good. I don't know where to start. It all stems back to the company it seems. Since all the offices changed a few years ago, it's really became sort of an "organized fuster cluck". People detest each other; therefore, they'll do anything to get a rise out of someone. Hence, the problem; you can't to any of them about any problems. I suppose it began about two years ago. I don't want to make any irrational decisions about being a member based on what may be described by me as, delayed stress reactions. I like to bottle things up, and I think the bottles are full, over flowing and some are cracking. Don't get me wrong, I'm not crazy or psychotic... I just don't know how to handle things, because there is never anyone to talk to.
I have so much passion for this, and I take it very seriously. People on here tell me that if you don’t absolutely love it, you should don it. And I agree, But it’s not just a hobby or a job.. It’s a way of life. Lately this obligation has brought on a lot of stress and situations that could have taken the lives of fellow community minded folks. In a way as someone, who was well known was shot 5 times, and her last words before becoming unconscious were that her husband, the shooter had left in his truck. It was shocking in a way that we had come only seconds after he had done the job of killing himself. He had shot his wife, then called 911 and said it was a medical problem. It was a frequent call to this house. I walk behind another crewman, and all of a sudden, all hell breaks loose. I hear someone yell for a trauma bag, and another helicopter(s). Unaware yet that the gunman was dead, I look for clues that may tell me we are all ok.. Then it hit me... I realized that his truck that she said he drove away in was still in the garage. And a state of fear, panic, and extreme anxiety set in on me and others that any second, we could be killed. And thought of "Is it really worth my life" began to start. Prior to that I was never... NEVER afraid of the dark... Until then anyway.. Now I am terrified of fulfilling of civic duties after dark. I have nightmare that end with me staying up all night, or "loosing my cookies" (vomiting)... As I walked around the night of the incident.. My foot ran into something, and I shined the flash light down... and a state of shock was immediately set in; and I don't think it has ever gone away... As I seen a very well known citizen, also a civic minded person, and a friend at my feet with nothing from the neck up... EVERY time I close my eyes.... I can see the sight... I never talked about it with anyone; however I did sneak away and puke several times... I was afraid for a period of time that I was going to faint... I didn't of course... But it seems that right after this event, and to mention several other events involving family members, and a very good friend.. In just a 6 month time 3 very good people I knew had been dealt extremely violent deaths... and I unfortunately was one of the first to see them in every instance. One was my aunt, I assisted in the removal of her, while she lived for two days, she had never regained from a respirator; The second a friend, had not been wearing her seat belt and every bone in her body was crushed, she was purple, and her neck broken... I'll never forget the blood the running out everywhere it could, and how cold she felt; and the third was the previously mentioned incident. But in that case, the woman who was shot lived. I cannot look at her with out feeling like I will throw up. Since then… Three friends have died in car accidents, one a fellow firefighter. That one kind of hit hard, but I never felt any stress... Until now. They say to everyone. "If you have a stress Reaction. You need to tell us"... Well what the hell is a Stress Reaction? And besides, with everyone jumping at each others throats, how can I trust what they say? Yet when all this happened, they told us that we were fine and didn’t need to talk. And now with HIPAA… They are under the impression, which we can’t talk about the call, even for cism measures… All I’m looking for is some guidance on how I should go about taking a break, with out quitting..? I have such a strong love for this, I don’t want to quit, I asked in other forums on here, what I should do. They told me to quit and not let the door hit me on the way out. I need to talk to a person, someone who talks from their heart. Not their ego or title on the name plate. Why is that so hard? The incident that set the thought that I've had enough of the FD was a boy, who in reality, ruined his own life, but the accident he has paralyzed him. It was a text-book extrication and removal. But I've never seen anyone with a spinal fracture survive. A good friend was killed last April, wasn't wearing her belts, broken neck.. Died while loading her into the chopper. I like helping people, no. I love it. And the fact that this kid was alive and talking, yet he was heavily on etoh, didn't know he was paralyzed. He kept telling us to let him up. This was the first time that I cried after I got home from a call. I just can't seem to find room for this last bad call in my metaphorical bottles.
This isn’t what I wrote the first time, it probably made more sense then. Does any of the make sense? Probably not. Maybe I am such the bad person that people on here make me out to be. That’s all I have to say.
I have so much passion for this, and I take it very seriously. People on here tell me that if you don’t absolutely love it, you should don it. And I agree, But it’s not just a hobby or a job.. It’s a way of life. Lately this obligation has brought on a lot of stress and situations that could have taken the lives of fellow community minded folks. In a way as someone, who was well known was shot 5 times, and her last words before becoming unconscious were that her husband, the shooter had left in his truck. It was shocking in a way that we had come only seconds after he had done the job of killing himself. He had shot his wife, then called 911 and said it was a medical problem. It was a frequent call to this house. I walk behind another crewman, and all of a sudden, all hell breaks loose. I hear someone yell for a trauma bag, and another helicopter(s). Unaware yet that the gunman was dead, I look for clues that may tell me we are all ok.. Then it hit me... I realized that his truck that she said he drove away in was still in the garage. And a state of fear, panic, and extreme anxiety set in on me and others that any second, we could be killed. And thought of "Is it really worth my life" began to start. Prior to that I was never... NEVER afraid of the dark... Until then anyway.. Now I am terrified of fulfilling of civic duties after dark. I have nightmare that end with me staying up all night, or "loosing my cookies" (vomiting)... As I walked around the night of the incident.. My foot ran into something, and I shined the flash light down... and a state of shock was immediately set in; and I don't think it has ever gone away... As I seen a very well known citizen, also a civic minded person, and a friend at my feet with nothing from the neck up... EVERY time I close my eyes.... I can see the sight... I never talked about it with anyone; however I did sneak away and puke several times... I was afraid for a period of time that I was going to faint... I didn't of course... But it seems that right after this event, and to mention several other events involving family members, and a very good friend.. In just a 6 month time 3 very good people I knew had been dealt extremely violent deaths... and I unfortunately was one of the first to see them in every instance. One was my aunt, I assisted in the removal of her, while she lived for two days, she had never regained from a respirator; The second a friend, had not been wearing her seat belt and every bone in her body was crushed, she was purple, and her neck broken... I'll never forget the blood the running out everywhere it could, and how cold she felt; and the third was the previously mentioned incident. But in that case, the woman who was shot lived. I cannot look at her with out feeling like I will throw up. Since then… Three friends have died in car accidents, one a fellow firefighter. That one kind of hit hard, but I never felt any stress... Until now. They say to everyone. "If you have a stress Reaction. You need to tell us"... Well what the hell is a Stress Reaction? And besides, with everyone jumping at each others throats, how can I trust what they say? Yet when all this happened, they told us that we were fine and didn’t need to talk. And now with HIPAA… They are under the impression, which we can’t talk about the call, even for cism measures… All I’m looking for is some guidance on how I should go about taking a break, with out quitting..? I have such a strong love for this, I don’t want to quit, I asked in other forums on here, what I should do. They told me to quit and not let the door hit me on the way out. I need to talk to a person, someone who talks from their heart. Not their ego or title on the name plate. Why is that so hard? The incident that set the thought that I've had enough of the FD was a boy, who in reality, ruined his own life, but the accident he has paralyzed him. It was a text-book extrication and removal. But I've never seen anyone with a spinal fracture survive. A good friend was killed last April, wasn't wearing her belts, broken neck.. Died while loading her into the chopper. I like helping people, no. I love it. And the fact that this kid was alive and talking, yet he was heavily on etoh, didn't know he was paralyzed. He kept telling us to let him up. This was the first time that I cried after I got home from a call. I just can't seem to find room for this last bad call in my metaphorical bottles.
This isn’t what I wrote the first time, it probably made more sense then. Does any of the make sense? Probably not. Maybe I am such the bad person that people on here make me out to be. That’s all I have to say.
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