Silly Shenanigans & Fun with Civilians and the Media

There is a side of firehouse life that you, the civilian, never really see. Sure, you've probably seen us fight a fire or work at an accident but theres a side of the job most are unaware of. Quite honestly, the only I can explain the half of it is with a line I'm sure you have all heard, "Boys may get bigger, but they never grow up." Now, that's not to say we're all a bunch of immature adults. Simply look at what we do on a daily basis, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that, to some degree, you gotta have a pretty good head on our shoulders to mentally deal with what we do and or see on any given day. But within our professionalism, there's a thin slice of fun, a release from the stresses of the job. Not to mention it passes the time when business is slow.
The fun can come at just about anytime, and any form. Although it seems to ramp up a bit during the slow periods (a stretch of time where call volume goes down & your left with a lot of free time) Also, and more importantly, it is non discriminatory. Everyone from the Chief down to the Junior firefighter is a target. (Ok, well not so much the Chief, but some of us have been know to test the waters) So to be a firefighter, you better have a good sence of humor and be able to take a joke or two.....or three.
Now, in the grand scheme of pranks around the firehouse, there are rules. No (serious) bodily harm, no touching someone's personal vehicle, if for some accidental reason personal property is damaged the "prankster" is always liable, nothing that will delay an emergency response and absolutely no touching someone's gear. Other than that, it's fair game and all about opportunity.
The shower is ways a good time to pull a prank. It can be something like patiently waiting for some one who's getting a shower to shut the water off. Then, having an accomplice yank the shower curtain back and you throw an entire container of powdered sweetened iced tea mix on the poor bastard who had just finished getting a shower....another good one (as long as your willing to pay to have it recharged) is getting a CO2 fire extinguisher and spraying it in the shower while they're in there....instantly turning every bit of moisture into ice, and if you do it just right, you can make it snow.
Turning someone's bunk into a fish bowl with shrink wrap is one of those rights if passage, you know, something that happens to just about everyone....while they're still sleeping in it of course. The bunk room was always a "deadly" place. A large room with 10 bunk beds and referred to as the "bat cave" because 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, its always dark. Usually the attacks happen in the evening while everyone's going to bed. But sometimes, in the middle of the night, all hell breaks loose and you partake in a huge pillow fight or maybe a game of full contact football.
Waking up to answer the direct phone line to dispatch can be dangerous as well. It was nothing to see someone walking across the bunk room to answer the phone & watch them drop like a ton of bricks. The unsuspecting victim of an Airsoft or blow gun round. (both leave a mark and sting like hell)
During a lull in fire calls, It's not uncommon to someone say "Hey, I got a cool idea..." It's usually these very same words that gives a chief chest pain because a "cool idea" usually isn't really a "good" one per-say, and almost always begs the question "what or who is going get get broken." The "who" is usually a Probie (probationary firefighter). For example, a probie NEVER mouths off to a senior man.....cause when they do they could very well find themselves strapped to a spare stretcher....at the top of a hill. Now, before you sit back and gasp "They wouldn't!?" there are two things you need to know. First and foremost, Yes, we most certainly would and second, there isn't a prank and/or stunt that's been pulled where safety hasn't been seriously considered. Many of potentially epic ideas had been scrapped on account of safety. So, before the Probie shoves off, carefull consideration has been given to angle, trajectory, placing the stretcher in the "load position" so it's perfectly flat and about 8 inches off the ground for a lower center of gravity. Then when we're all pretty sure it's good to go....it's time for launch.
The launch is good....quickly gets in the groove and is staying nice and straight. Then as we stand in amazement that it worked someone calmly says "Shit......we didn't figure on the storm drain..."
I looked back down the road to see the stretcher catch the storm drain and flip head over feet, landing the poor bastard flat on his face in the grass. Certain he's dead....we rush down to flip him over, and someone says "If he's gotta go to the hospital, at least he's already on the backboard AND the stretcher." Anyways, as bad as it could have been...it was a few stitches, and we all laughed about it....even the Probie.... once the bleeding stopped.
Civilians are also fun. We don't prank them as we would one of the guys but sometimes it's impossible to not have a laugh at their expense.
For example, while directing traffic at a vehicle accident with an overturned suv, a motorist pulls up and asks if he can get through, obviously the white suv on its roof in plain site 30 yards or so behind us did tip him off so he's politely told no and that he has to find another He then asks what happened and without missing a beat, one of the guys tells him there was a plane crash.....and the motorist believed him....even called & told his wife while he was sitting there....with the overturned vehicle still in plain sight.
Then theres the Ignorant civilians. They almost always get something from us, and it may be a biased opinion, but its done rightfully so. You would probably be amazed at some of the stuff we deal with from bystanders during an emergency. It's as if the house on fire isn't keeping us busy enough. I remember one time at a fire, I had arrived on the third in engine (third engine to arrive on scene) and as I'm grabbing my tolls, some guy starts shaking my shoulders and asks "Can you move that hose? I have to pick up a suit and I can't get out of my driveway."
I looked at him with a slightly confused expression and said
"No hablo Inglés." Then I turned and went to work. I did tell the Chief about the guy just incase he tried to drive over the hose and it's not a small hose, its the big yellow hose that connects to the hydrant to supply us with water, so it's kind of important and yes, people do actually try to drive over it. When the fire was deemed under control and the hose line shut down, the Chief found me and said go move tho hose and let that guy get out.
So I walked over, knocked on the door and when he answered I politely, in very clear, plain English, told him he could go now. He thanked me then you could tell by the look on his face that it hit him....I was the same guy that didn't speak English. I just shot him a smile and a nod then turned to go finish cleaning up.
Then there's the media...I understand they're just trying to do their job but they can be a huge hassle. As in I actually had one step in front of me for comment as I was walking into a high rise with active fire on the top floor....
"Excuse me sir, can you tell me what's going on."
With the camera and the mic in my face, I calmly replied "I'm still down here because there's some fucking idiot in my way, so I'm not sure what's going on yet."
She failed to find the humor in it.
Then one night we got the Chief and the media too. While cleaning up one night after a fire, I noticed the Chief step aside with a reporter to do his interview. So I grab two guys and fill them in on my idea. They agree to help so the 3 of us take up position in a way where the reporter won't see us and patiently watch as he and the chief get ready for the interview. Then once they get started, we pop out from behind the ladder truck, in plain site of the chief and begin "posing" in the most inappropriate sexual positions you can do with 3 people. The chief can see us plain as day and did try to complete the interview, but it just wasn't going to happen & he busted out laughing....as did we. We then disappeared behind the ladder truck again so that if the reporter turned around, we'd be gone. Back at the station after the call, we were cleaning tools and such when I hear my name get called... "Report to the Chief's office..." So I walk in and hear "Shut the door & grab a seat."
(this is usually not good)
"What's up Chief?"
He just sat there and glared....then said in a rather stern tone of voice... "Do you realize how un professional that was, I should have you suspended, and your cohorts too!.....What do you have to say for yourself?"
I stumble for the right words....."Well Chief...I just thought...."
"No, you obviously weren't thinking!"
I thought to myself.... "Well, I thought he found it funny but this one obviously backfired....big time."
I prepared myself to take the heat and imagined I'd get suspended for a week or two.....the big man was pissed. But before I could say anything, the chief bellowed "And your obviously not thinking now! Because if you were you'd be able to figure out that was one of the funniest fuckin things I've ever seen..." And he busts into hysterics again and then busted out with "GOT YA!" And yes he did and he had gotten me good.
So you see, when its time to work, we work. But shenanigans are never far away....and neither are pay backs.

Dear Penthouse.....

I saw this cartoon today and it reminded me of a time I was put in a similar situation.
We were working at a local high rise apartment building for a fire on the 5th floor. I had arrived riding Irons on the truck and was assigned evacuation of the 4th floor. "Irons" was my riding position. My primary job would be forceable entry, prying doors, cutting hinges and basically breaking into anything we need to check for occupants and possibly even fire. Why would we have to go door to door in a building that's on fire ? Well,at most multi-family residential buildings, false alarms or burnt food calls are so common that most people learn to ignore the fire alarm and don't evacuate until we're pounding on their door. And the most common phrase uttered in embarrassment as they frantically shutter out the door is, "I thought it was another false alarm." Another good one is "I didn't hear the fire alarm"....(I think they actually expect us to believe them.) Then, there are those lovely people who are totally ignorant towards us and refuse to leave until they are threatened with being arrested. (Yes, we really can do that)
And, of course, there are the doors no one answers....these we have to force. In laymen's terms, we break into the apartment to make sure it's not on fire and no one is home. Some times you find them asleep and as you can probably imagine, they're pretty shocked and at first pretty pissed off that your standing in their apartment. But they too eventualy make their way out. So basically the job is kinda like a Cracker Jack box cause you never know what's kind of "prize" is behind each door.
My partner on this call was a guy we called "Shleprock" or "Shlep" for short. Shlep was a damn good fireman one of the best I've worked with and strong as an ox too. He would carry any tool he could grab along with what was required for his riding position. We made the 4 story hike with all our equipment and decided we would work our way from one end of the hallway to the other, Shelp on one side and myself on the other.
We make our way down the hall pounding on doors & telling the tenants of the fire upstairs and that they need to leave their apartments. We decide skip forcing the doors with no answer until after we clear the rest of the floor and just continue on our way pounding in doors and clearing the floor if its tenants. When get to the end of the hall and are about to work our way back down the hall clearing the 3 or 4 "empty" apartments when we suddenly hear loud dance music. It's the kind of techno stuff they play at dance clubs. Shelp walks up to one of the doors that no one answered and in a puzzled voice says "It's coming from in here." As I approach him at the door, the door across from the one with the music opens, and a little old guys pokes his head out for a second then shuts the door.
Shlep, even more puzzled asks "Didn't you check that one?"
Now just as confused as him, I nod and walk upto the door with the little old man behind it.
I beat on it again, and Shlep starts pounding on the door with the music.
The little old guy opens his up again and asks what's going on. I tell him about the fire and that he needs to leave the building. He then, steps past me to tap on Shleps arm to get his attention. Shlep, still pounding on the door across the hall, turns and says "Someone's in there... I hear laughing...it sounds like a girl."
And the Little old man says, "Those two are a wild bunch....they probably won't answer the door so save your energy and quit making all that racket."
We all chuckle, then I set my tools down in the hall to help the old man collect his meds and start out of the building and Shlep, well, he was still pounding on the door, still with music blasting, and no answer.
At this point, we're getting pissed. We know theres someone in there and we've beat on the door loud enough that someone actually made a report on the radio from the fire floor that they can hear someone pounding. It's at this point we decide to force the door. So as I begin to I turn away from the door and grab the rabbit tool (small hand pumped hydraulic ram for forcing doors open) I hear the music get softer and then the latch on the door click. So I turn around to to see the door open up and standing there, in nothing more than an un-tied white silk robe and small (very small) black panties, is a gorgeous blonde. Then, from in the room behind her, I hear another girl ask "Who's here?" And just then a gorgeous brunette comes out of a room into view of the door. She is also wearing an untied robe and small (very small) red panties and sipping on a glass of wine.
In a provocative tone of voice, the blonde answers "They're firemen."
The brunette shoots back with a "Oooo really?....can we keep them?"
Now I can only imagine the look on our faces as we stood in a state of shock and in total awe of what was before us. I mean, when clearing a floor at a high rise fire, the last thing any fireman would expect to open the door is a scantily clad women of Playboy centerfold caliber, let alone two of them.
As I fumble to hold my tools while I pick my jaw up off the floor, Shlep utters "Good evening ladies, we're here to let you know that there a fire upstairs and that you should evacuate."
The Blond runs here hand softly down the side of Shleps face and says to her friend "They're here to save us..."
The brunette, now also standing in the door replies "Well I didn't call them but since they're here, I could use some good mouth to mouth...."
They both giggle, then the blonde, starts to stroke Shleps roof hook and adds ".....and it seems they both brought their "tools" with them."
The brunette then jumps in and starts to unclasp my coat and says "....do they have their suspenders.....firemen are sooo much hotter with suspenders on...."
Then she tugs on my coat, pulling me across the threshold and into the apartment, giggles then says "I think we'll be safer if you two stay here, after all, the only thing better than smoke detectors is having your own fireman."
The blonde quickly adds, "And we have two of them, one for each of us."
Now by this point, I dunno what the hells going on.....we came up to clear a floor and some how ended up in the beginnings of a Letter to Penthouse, and the building is still actively burning. We do our best to maintain some level of professionalism, but its hard to keep a though straight as your mind takes off in a thousand different directions as you try and figure out what the hell is going on. Not that we needed help figuring out what it appeared they wanted, but I mean really, when does shit like this happen in real life?
Anyway, Shlep tells them again, "Ladies, we're flattered, we really are, but this isn't a joke, there is a fire upstairs and we need to get you out of the building."
The blonde, now with a slightly surprised look on her face, has picked up on the urgency amongst the crackling in Shleps voice and shoots back "Really!?..... Oh my god! Are you serious!?" Then turns to the brunette and says "We better get going, maybe next time....."
At this point, both women, from what we told them and the radio traffic, realized that this in fact isn't another false alarm but an actual fire. They hastily run back into a bed room, shut the music off and throw on some close, then make their way out of the apartment and down the hall. Only stopping for a moment to thank us and invite us back when there isn't a fire. Then they each gave us a hug and a kiss and off they went.
Now back in the hallway, we just stood there & watched them leave. As the stairwell door closed behind them Shlep turned to me and asked "Did that really just happen."
"I think so Shlep....but I'm not totally sure?...." I answered.
We then quietly went about our business clearing the last two apartments, then reported to command that the floor was clear and waited for a new assignment. A few minutes later the fire was reported out so we gathered up our tools and returned to the rig.
A few guys asked how it went, obviously curious as to if we ran into anything out of the ordinary. We told them it was just the usual idiots. But obviously the looks on our faces told a different story. Even one if my Asst. Chiefs could tell something was up and relentlessly hounded us while we cleaned up to find out what happened but we kept brushing him off too. After all, how do you explain that? It wasn't until after we got back to the firehouse and were cleaning up that we told them about our little encounter. Some of the guys believed us, others didn't, and quite honestly, I can't say I blame the ones that didn't. In fact, had I not been there, I probably wouldn't believe it myself.

Giving Thanks

"Thanks" is not a word often heard in the fire service. In fact, I can count on one hand, the number of times someone actually made an attempt to thank me or anyone else on my crew. Now, I'm in no way pitching a bitch about it, truth is, it's a thankless job. We see people on one of the worst days of their lives and with their world turned upside down, trying to figure out which way is up is difficult enough let alone remembering to thank someone for helping. So we understand, and quite frankly, we were just doing our job.
Sept. 11th kind of changed that, even if only for a little. But, most of us knew it would be short lived. For days, if not weeks after 9/11, residence and businesses dropped of cookies, sandwich rings, cases of pop, pizzas, what ever. People stopped to say thank you, brought their kids to meet the "heroes". All in all, it was a bit overwhelming. Granted, it was nice to be recognized for what we do, but we did nothing to deserve it.
But it was short lived, so we were able to get back to the comfortable thankless-ness we were used to. Today it's back to normal, and it really is OK, we kinda like it that way. We'll be here, outta sight, outta mind until we're needed.....it's what we do.
Then theres the other side of the stories, and as I look back on 18 years, I can say I have a lot to be thankful for during my career. Sure, there are those calls I would sooner forget if I could, but even in the darkest moments life has to offer, there is always something.
For me, it's my career itself. For a jolly volly in Southwest PA I have been blessed. From those who taught me in the beginning like My Asst Chief Bill & my one of my instructors, Jim. Both who taught me modern & old school techniques and skills to be an effective firefighter, and just as if not more important, why we do what we do and what it really means to be a firefighter.
There isn't a fire I haven't fought were something one of those two taught me hasn't helped me in some fashion or got my ass out of a bad spot, for their friendship, instruction and tutelage, I am thank full.
I am thankful for having the privilege to ride the rigs and fight, side by side with some of the best in the business, guys from places like Washington DC FD, Pittsburgh Bureau of Fire, Baltimore FD and even FDNY, to name a few.
Im thankful for the Guys from Engine Co 12 for busting through the door into the fully involved room in the basement, a split second after I fell through the floor and landed on the bed, in the fully involved room. Impeccable timing guys...thanks.
I'm thankful for seeing the warning signs and retreating from the second floor just in time to keep from getting cooked in a flashover in Engine 7s first due. I'll take a few small blisters over the burn unit any day.
I'm thankful there were no serious injuries when we sent 14 guys to the hospital after the roof collapsed during an apartment building fire.
I am thankful that, to date, my most serious injury from fighting fire was a very severely sprained ankle that almost ended my firefighting and construction careers.
I am thankful to have been able to fight many fires with my two best friends, Mike & Ryan.
I am thankful for the wood framed storage shed that stood between me an a 55 gallon drum of something at an industrial fire. The Drum experienced a bleve. (Boiling liquid expanding vapor explosion....BIG boom)...I don't know how much it actually helped since it was destroyed, but when I picked my ass off the ground and did a quick once over to make sure I was ok, I was convinced, had that Shed not been there..... neither would I. I'm also thankful my ears only rang for 3 days after the blast.
I am thankful for the nice warm diesel exhaust to warm your hands & feet on those long cold nights fighting fire in the snow. And since we're talking cold weather operations, lets not forget those that get up in the middle of the night to bring the Sally wagon and have ready for us, the best tasting coffee and hot chocolate flavored water you'll never want to drink again but do so just because its warm.
I am thankful that I've learned to appreciate life a little more.
I'm thankful to be in the right place at the right time on the right call to help someone else see tomorrow.
I am thankful not only for my time living at the firehouse, but for those I got to share that time with. Definitely 4 of my best years in the service.
I am thankful that I have been able to come home after an ugly call and kiss my kids and my wife.
I am thankful the engine I was driving had good enough breaks to keep from hitting a minivan with 4 kids in it when their mom blew a red light.....damn good breaks.
I am thankful for my Buddy Lurch, who in street cloths, at a working fire in a strip mall, grabbed and threw a 24 foot extension ladder to the roof so that myself and 2 others could get off the roof after the roof began to collapse, cutting off our two means of egress. Thanks brother.
I am thank full for having Chummy was a able to guid me to a vehicle fire as I drove through fog. He held his head out the officers window and watched the front tire of the engine and the white line on the road, shouting instructions "left a little, keep it straight, back to the right a little" to make sure we stayed on the road until we got to the fire because the Fog was so god damn thick we didn't see the burning car until we almost hit it. It was insane..
Good lookin out brother.
To the guy from Tower 112 who grabbed me by my air pack just before falling through a huge hole the arsonist cut in the floor at a fire in 94's first due. Never got your name, but thanks dude.
I am thankful to the State Trooper who, with the use of a flying fore arm, "subdued" the angry motorist that stopped and for some reason felt picking a fight a with a fireman at an accident was a good idea.
I am, for some odd reason, thankful for the engine company.....I know, I know, I know.... I can't explain it either.
I am thankful for my wife. She is a Firefighters wife, its hard to explain and there's more to it than you realize.
I am thankful that tomorrow, when the bell rings, I'll still be ready to go.
Be safe and Happy Thanksgiving.

The Rivalry

In every high-school across the country, for every sport, there is a rival school somewhere. And its that rivalry that acts as a foundation for for the teams training & willingness to be the very best. Altho they train and prepare the same way for any given game on any given day against any given team, its the rivalry that squeezes ever ounce of commitment out of the teams members, and pushes them to be 110% at their very best. After all, we can't loose to the other team, especially our rivals, right?
Well, the fire service happens to be cut from the same fabric. Competition is in everything we do....being able to go from street cloths to full gear and SCBA breathing air in less than 2 minuets, first to get water on the fire, fastest at cutting a roof....or what ever. And, for every firehouse across the country, there is, just down the road a bit, or in the next town over,a rival fire house. They are the ones who, in the general opinion of your company, couldn't put out a burning bag of dog shit. When in all actuality they think the very same about you and your fire company. On the fire scene, it's (usually) not an issue. Your all there for the same reason, and you do your job, period end of story. That's not to say that some friendly ball bustin doesn't occur, but all in all, you work well with one another....except maybe when you beat them to a fire in their district AND put the fire out.....then it can get a little tense. (that ranks right below sleeping with their wives)
Then there is a more "traditional" rivalry. A rivalry thats as old as the fire bell, if not older. It's the rivalry between the (ladder) truck company and the engine company, or the "Truckies" and the "Hose Jockeys" as their commonly referred. It's a rivalry unlike any other...its lead some fire stations that house both an engine and a truck to "segregate" the firehouse with seperate bathrooms and sleeping quarters. (the kitchen is traditionally never divided, that's sacred turff, I'll get into that some other time) On top of that, the inside of the apparatus bays and sometimes even the entire firehouse, are decorated in different colors, evenly split right down the center.
For example, if you were to walk into one of these firehouses you would immediately notice that one half of the apparatus bay where the engine sits, is blue, and the side where the truck sits is red and its the same with the living quarters. From carpet to curtains, if it can be color coded and or split in half, it is.
Now, It's up to each individual to decide what side of the fence they'll stake claim. As for me, my fire service career got its start in an engine company. Not because I wanted to, but like the vast majority of those in the volunteer fire service, that's all my home town fire company had, an engine, 2 of them actually. (altho I would later come to my senses and hop the proverbial fence)
Engines are the most widely seen apparatus on the street and a vast majority of firehouses in America have at least one. In face, with a few exceptions, in any given city,engine company's out number truck companies. For example, the City of Pittsburgh Bureau of Fire has 28 engine company's and only 11 truck companies.
Both are usually staffed with 4 to 6 firefighters, but their responsibilities on the fire ground differ greatly and it's those differences in responsibility that are the foundation for the rivalry.
An engine company are those that respond on and operate/work from a fire engine, thats the fire truck that has the hose, the pump, hooks up to the fire hydrant & squirts the water. As defined, they have only 2 responsibilities at a fire, and those are to establish a water supply (the hydrant connection) and fire attack (the actual act of putting the fire out)
The basic routine of any engine company is the same, first, they need to establish a water supply, that's when they put the hose in the street with one end hooked to a hydrant and the other to their wagon (fire service slang for an engine). Next they pull a handling off and flake it out in the front yard. Now depending on they do things, they'll either charge the hose line at the front door, then make entry to find the fire, or (if they have a set) they take the line in dry to just outside the fire room, then call over the radio for water. Taking the line in wet can be difficult. When the line is charged, it becomes rigid, making it hard to bend without kinking it. The guys on the line have to really work to get the nozzle into position by forcefully moving the hose line around inside. It's a pain in the ass, especially when the fire is on the second floor in the back corner bedroom. But once they get into position, they put the fire out. Only thing after that is packing or rolling all that hose....other than that, the engine company's job is done.
Then there's the better half, um.......I mean, the other half of the rivalry. The Truck Company, or "Truckies". These are the big, built, well equipped, exceptionally trained, seasoned veteran bad asses that can put the fire out just by looking at it AND there ain't a damn we can't handle!!! Ok, maybe that's stretching the truth a little, sometimes we have to stomp the fire out with our boot.
Anyway, as the truck company,we arrive and work off of the apparatus that has the huge ladder on top. These rigs are usually packed full if tools, kind of like a rolling tool box. Some of them have a platform or "bucket" at the end if the ladder. In the fire service these are called "Towers" Then there are the ones that are just a big ladder or "straight stick" or more traditionally called a "truck". This too is a rivalry, only it just between truck companies. The argument being which is the better truck, a bucket or a straight stick? Both perform the job well but in my opinion, posers right in a bucket, real truckies climb the ladder.
Now, altho out rigs are a bit different, our responsibilities are the same. Those are forcible entry, search & rescue, ventilation, utility control (gas & electric), salvage, over haul and of course, ladders.
Forceable entry is just that, forcing entry into a building. This can be done a number of ways and how its done is usually determined by the situation at hand. It could be as simple as prying a door open, or removing security bars and taking out a window. What ever you need to get into, chances are, we have a tool for the job.
Search & rescue. This too is self explanatory. We go in (with no hose line) and search the building. The search is as methodical as it is chaotic and done in 2 stages. A primary and secondary search. The primary search is quick & dirty, sometimes crawling in pitch black feeling around with your hands, calling out in the event anyone trapped can hear you & respond. The secondary search is a more thorough search and is usually performed once the wagon fags...... sorry......once the engine company gets a knock on the fire. (knocked down but not completely out)
Now if you find a victim, you let command know to have the Bandaid Warriors (medics) ready, and now you and your partner remove the victim from the house via the fastest way. Sometimes your lucky and its the front door, other times, its a second or third story window.
The next one is one of my personal favorites, Ventilation. This is the process of removing smoke and heat from the structure to provided a safer environment for the interior firefighters and any possible victims. This too can be accomplished many different ways depending on the situation. It can be breaking windows, busting out sky lights and the always popular, cutting a hole in the roof. You can be a truckie, but your not "really" a truckie until you catch a job and put in some work on the roof...it's kind of a right of passage. Then there's the fans, ones that suck & ones that blow. The smoke ejectors "suck" the smoke out of the house, usually a window. The other type, Positive Pressure Ventilation, or PPV fans are positioned in front of an exterior door and "blow" fresh cool air into the house at a high pressure, forcing out smoke & heat.
Now the tricks to ventilation are type of ventilation, timing, and reading (understanding) the smoke & fire conditions. If you screw either one up, and the conditions are right, the result can be devastating. Increasing the rate of fire growth exponentially, or causing a flashover or even a back draft, all of them potentially lethal. So, as you can tell, ventilation is a lot more involved than just breaking stuff.
Utility control is isolating the Gas & electric to the structure that's burning. A mix of natural gas and fire doesn't exactly help the cause, and with guys inside pulling down walls & ceilings, you don't want them to find a live wire and get zapped while standing in the puddle of water. (that shit hurts)
And niw, since you've turned off the electricity, Utility control also includes supplying lights & power to the home via small generators, long heavy duty extension cords and portable lighting inside & out.
Salvage is the process in which we try to save as many personal belongings as we safely can. It's generally not a favorite job, but, we understand that someone standing in the front yard is watching their life go up in smoke,literally, and the more we can save makes it that much easier for them to deal with. Basically it's Stacking the furniture in the rooms below the fire and covering them with huge sheets of plastic, carefully moving pictures and stuff lime that. Its amazing how handing something like a charged jewelry box to the home owner while its still warm, seems to make it all seem not quite as bad, if only a by a little.
Over haul is done generally in the fire room and is when we tear the walls open to the framing to check for hot spots and any hidden fire or extension. And removal of debris to a point as to not disturb any potential arson evidence.
And finally, there's the Ladders, more notably the big power ladder on top of the fire truck. But along with reaching high up in the air, it also provides an elevated master stream. It's a big nozzle attached to the top of the ladder capable of flowing upwards of 2000 gallons per minuet. (that's enough to fill your average above ground pool in about 4 1/2 minuets) Then there are the ground ladders, truck companies usually at least 6 or 8. These are used to gain access to the roof if the power ladder can't be used because if power lines (very common in SW PA) they're also placed at ever possible window for means if access and egress from the building. (you always try to have more than one way out of a room if the shit goes bad) the ladders can also be used as a platform to vent windows in upper floors or tear at the eves of the house to expose any fire. Basically, for a Truckie, working from a ladder must be second nature.
So in general, you now have an understand of what takes place and how every single task is important. However, to Truckies and Hose Jockeys the job can be done just as easily without their counterpart there. A million in one arguments have ensued over who is more important and I suspect it will continue that way well after I'm long gone.
Truth of it is, one cannot function efficiently without the other and all jobs are important to putting out the fire. And although putting water on a fire is kind of important, at least now we all know that the engine company cant do their job without the truck company, because after all.....Truckies are better.

Your never really on vacation.

This is a picture of some "tool work" at an accident with entrapment I witnessed in the way home from vacation. The pictured vehicle, I would soon find out, was occupied by a late 30's female driver and her 22 month old little boy who was properly seated behind her. Her car was traveling southbound (I was northbound) and she was hit by someone who hydroplaned spinning her in front of a tractor trailer who blasted her, dead center in the "B" post on the drivers side (for you non first responder types, that is the post between the front & back doors on both sides of the vehicle) That impact spun her off the road, down into the grassy center divider then shot up and out the other side where her vehicle caught a good 6 or 7 feet of air before some how landing on all 4's then rolling to a stop in the slow lane, right in front of me.
I swerved & missed her, pulled to the burm and hopped out to do my thing & I have Laura-Lynn call 911 in the process.
A few others stop, one being a pick up with all kinds of shit in the back. I grabed about a 2 foot metal hunk of something and I busted out the front passenger window (yes, I tried before I pried) reached in & unlocked the door then climbed inside. I do a quick once over of the boy who wasn't crying at all..just lookin at me like "who the hell are you" and mom who was screaming and obviously in pretty good pain and concerned with her child. I assured her he was all right, and calmed her down as best I could. Even after just a quick once over I felt he would be just fine.....it's amazing how resilient kids are.
A few minuets pass and the medics show up, and then the fire dept. The fire dept. shows up in a early 90s commercial cab engine....a small one at that. From the size and type of apparatus, I assume they are there for fire suppression and expect at least something resembling a rescue would show up to perform the (rescue) tool work, after all this is a major interstate....but, unfortunately this would not be the case.
Theses back ass lookin country bumpkins fall out of what I would consider a poor excuse for an engine, onto the highway, stumble around like the Keystone Cops then eventualy manage to find and place into service portable power plant and a combi-tool. (short fir combination tool, it combines the abilities of the cutters and the spreaders) They fire it up & it sounds way different than it should, almost like a small Harley. So I looked at the power plant a little closer and notice the "after market" (obviously more like home made) muffler on the side and as it registers in my head what it is I'm looking at, I hear one of the toothless heroes say in his back hills accent "Damn! That some bitch sounds purdy good don't it?".....honestly, you can't make this shit up.
Now, as far as the damage to the vehicle, from a professional stand point, the front door needs to go, and there's about 18" of intrusion at the bottom of the "B" post, and it's buckled in such a way that you can't get at it without removing both drivers side doors. So it's a quick pop of the front and back doors, (both of which had picture perfect purchase points as if the Gods of vehicle rescue placed them there...that's the point in wich you set your tool to begin extrication), next remove the "B" post and while someone's making the cut, some one else can be untangling her feet from the pedals. Next, remove the patient......an operation that should take no more than 10 min, maybe 15 min tops.
These guys however, were in no hurry and as I would soon find out, had no clue. They attacked at the "B" post wich is now just a smashed pilar if wrinkled metal, and with out really looking at it, you couldn't see a separation between the front & rear doors. It took Larry, Darrel & Darrel about 10 minuets to pop the drivers door and it didn't matter because the car was so buckled that even if you bent the hinges back, the door wouldn't open far enough to get her out, not to mention the "B" post was right next to her head, and that hindered her extraction.....I was dumb founded,
Standing next to the medic I said "DUDE! There's no way in hell we're getting her out of there." The Medic, Matt was his name, a nice guy and obviously seasoned medic, he just shook his head and mumbled "un-fucking-believable"
I asked "Can't you say something?!"
He gave me a cliff-notes version of an interdepartmental scuffle where the responding fire company, Larry, Darrel & Darrel's company, was almost shut down but they managed to keep it open and feel everyone's out to get them, making it next to impossible to work with them on scene yada yada yada. (Yes folks, this petty shit actually takes place when lives are on the line...it's pathetic, I know)
"Uhh, oohkay....I replied...
So i do the logical thing and look for the officer in charge, their Chief.....and, well, he and I didn't say much.....in fact he didn't say a damn thing at all....ever, actually, he looked just as "amazed" as the fellow civilians who stopped with me & have never seen the "jaws of life" up close & personal.
Now, I am well aware of public Safety etiquette; "Thou shall not tell someone how to do their job while on scene in their district, (or in my case state) because everyone does it differently, BUT....in this case I had seen enough & it was OBVIOUS these fuckwads didn't have the slightest clue what they were doing, and chances were, someone's getting hurt. And judging from the medics comments and non verbals, I knew my assumption couldn't be far off.
So the only thing I could do next....start barkin orders. Now, it's not my place nor my demeanor to "butt in" on someone else's call, but it was bad, going to worse ....how ever, on a positive note.......they pulled the pre connected tool from their engine.....a step in the right direction, 10 min late, but still a step.
I told them to take the back door at the pin (latch) and they did....text book pop....even heard the guy on the tool say "well aint dat jus slicker en pig shee-it....that some bitch popped right off a dair Doo-wayne"
And "Doo-wayne" replied "what choo talkin bout" an obvious clue he wasn't paying attention. In fact, good ol "Doo-Wayne"had not been paying much attention since he arrived on scene. He had gotten him self pinned between the door & the tool on the first door pop attempt. (one of the cardinal rules of using rescue tools, NEVER place yourself between the tool & the vehicle)
The guy on the tool then switches to the cutters to take the "B" post and starts cutting into the car with the tips of the cutters (weakest part, they can break & send chunks of metal flying at great speed...not good, not to mention the back door is still attached to the post) I yelled "HEY! Hold up there Billy-Bob... (yes, I really did call him that, and honestly, he didn't seem to mind).....First, you need to totaly remove the back door." So Billy Bob takes the cutters and cuts the hinges. The door falls to the ground and Billy Bob steps onto the door and positions himself to cut the post.
"STOP!" I yelled, " Get that door the hell out of here, then make the cut, and when you go at the post, open the cutters as far as they'll go, then make your cut, and move up closer to her head (he was positioned mid-point to cut the post)
Billy-Bob asked "What bout Miss Lady's head? So I told him to have someone guid the cutter blade past her head with their hand. Clearly confused, Ol Billy Bob asks "But won't that cut the hand off instead?" Rather than explaining to process, it was easier for me to do it & show him... "Ooooh, I get it now....between the blade and the head..."
He finally gets through the in 3 cuts...not bad considering. Now it's time to cut the bottom of the post....this was another ordeal. 3 guys, who had obviously seen the benefits of understanding vehicle rescue, and now wanting to be the "hero" start fighting over who gets to cut & how.
The Medic chimes in...."Guys....it doesn't matter who, let's just get it done!"
Billy Bob stays on the tool...places the jaws on the post just above the rocker panel, then looks back at me and the medic, obviously looking for an "OK" so I give him a nod and he begins to make the cut. He finishes that, then looks back again for direction...so I tell him to do the same thing from the back side and he does. After this cut, he looks back and tells me it's no the whole way through. I explain how to reposition the tool and "connect" the two cuts. And in a few short minuets, the "B" post is removed.
Finally, we are to remove the Lady from the car and get her into the ambulance and on to better care. And the little boy was just fine.
Point if the story us this, it takes more than a shiny red fire truck and fancy tools to be a firefighter. There is training, lots of training. And more importantly, an understanding of the bigger picture. As it has traditionally been, there is a great sense of pride in our company and what we do. And every firehouse in America thinks they're the best in town....but never should that pride be prioritized over the well being of the patient.

Quite Shocking (literally)

As a firefighter/EMT, even with all the blood, guts & gore we see, there are the "routine" ambulance calls, false fire alarms and other less "exciting calls" But even those can change in a hurry and without warning.
It was Thanksgiving Day, about 7 years ago or so and after finishing my annual Thanksgiving running around, I decided to spend the night at the fire house to help with staffing. You see, at a fire house that has live in members, most of them are not from the area and go home to spend time with family and friends. These same guys run a vast majority of the calls because most of their free time away from work & college is spent at the firehouse, so on holidays, staffing gets light & us "home responders" pick up the slack.
I got there around 20:00 hrs (that's 8 pm in civilian time) and it had a fairly uneventful day so the few guys there were watching a movie. I settled in, watched the rest of it with them then decided to call it a night.
At just before 0700 (7 am) we get tapped (dispatched) for a Delta 2, a 70 some year old male, unresponsive & not breathing. We spring from our bunks, and head to work. I responded in the ambulance, only we were BLS (basic life support) and since it's an ALS (advanced life support) call, we requested a medic.
We receive confirmation that one of our Medics would be in rout but a bit delayed because he was just leaving work (at the dispatch center)
We arrive on scene & we run up to the house with a frantic women screaming "He's in the bed room, hurry, please save him"
So to the bed room we went. I walk in and there's our patient laying face down across the bed in his gutchies. I make my way around to his head & upper body and roll him over to check for an airway & as I'm rolling him he groans. "He's breathing" I yell to my partner/driver Chad as he comes through the door with the first in bag followed by the engine crew.
I give the guy a sternum rub (rub his sternum hard with my knuckles...it's definitely an attention getter) and he kinda swats at me & mumbles "stop it" and opens his eyes. I tell him I'm with the ambulance, then he shoots back, kinda confused "so, what in the hell are you doing in my bed room?" I explain that his wife found him all unconscious so she called 911. He denies anythings wrong, and swears he was just sleeping. He looks at me kinda funny and asks again who I am and why I'm there, only this time, a little more coherently. His wife then chimes in and explains how she found him, and pleads with him to let us check him out. It was obvious something had happened & he knew it, but it was obviously an awkward situation for the man, after all he came to on his bed, in his underwear, surrounded by a bunch of fireman.
I ask him what's wrong & how he's feeling but he still kinda denies anythings wrong, but you could tell he was now rethinking everything. So I politely ask him to let us check him real quick to make sure he's ok if for anything, to calm his wife down and he agrees. Chad starts taking vitals (pulse,blood pressure, O2 levels & lung sounds) Then Jim, the wagon driver, comes in with the heart monitor, we start hooking him up & Jim tells me the medic is about 2-3 minuets out. I nod and continue putting the stickers & wires on the patient. Once he's all hooked up Jim turns the monitor on and I start organizing the "retreat" of the guys in the bedroom & removal of some equipment we won't need. Then I start back with the patient, telling him he should let us take him to the hospital just to be safe when I here Jim say "Uuuh, Stan!...
I look over to Jim and he's holding the monitor so I can see the screen & I immediately notice what has him so concerned. On the screen his heart rhythm is showing what are called "Tomb Stones"
Now, most of you have some what of an idea of what a normal heart rhythm looks like. It's the line with the sharp high and low points followed by a short flat line, then repeat. Tomb stones look just like the name says, it's a flat line followed by a "hump" that looks like an old tomb stone or one from a cartoon, and also, as the name suggests, they are really REALLY bad! To put it in more convenient terms, we were basically watching this guy have a heart attack.
Now it's real, we need to go and we need to go right now. I call for the reeves stretcher (a long stretcher about the size ofva back board with carry handles) then sternly but polity tell our patient like it or not, he's going to the hospital. Now, by law, we cannot make anyone go to the hospital, you have the right to refuse, but I wanted to get across the seriousness of the situation with out frightening him or his wife anymore than he probably already was.
As one of the guys brings in the reeves stretcher, he's followed by our medic, Fred, who asks "What's up guys?"
Jim shows him the monitor, and Fred says "OK then, get him out to the bus (ambulance) I'm gonna go get a line ready (iv drip) and what ever you do, make sure you print that rhythm.
We get him onto the reeves then carry him out to the regular stretcher that's waiting in the living room. As simple as it sounds, 6 guys, in gear, carrying someone on a reeves stretcher, out of a bed room, around the corner and down the stairs, is anything but simple. (look at the hallway & stairs in your home and imagine it)
So after we carefully but expediently, carry sim down stairs, managing not to fall, or drop the poor guy, we place him onto the regular Ambulance Stretcher then make a B line out to the bus.
Fred starts a line (iv) and pushes a few drugs while I monitor vital signs. We give the nod to Chad who's our Chauffeur for the trip, tell him to run it "lights" (emergency) and off to Forbes we go.
We pull in, get the patient out of the back & wheel him in. It's kind of a slow morning so the Drs are waiting for us and lead us to a room. We switch him onto the ER bed, then start giving the report the Drs are looking at the monitor strip & one says to the unit clerk to start making arrangements for a helicopter to transfer the patient to West Penn hospital because he needs to be in a Cath Lab ASA (heart catheterization lab/procedure room).
I make exit from the room and head out to get new sheets for the stretcher & put the ambulance back together.
Chad and I step outside and notice that it had started snowing & it was coming down pretty good. I turn around and head back in to tell Fred do that we can get back to the station before the roads get bad. As I approach the patients room, Fred pops out from behind the curtain and with concern and a bit of confusion says, "They can't fly....they said the weathers to bad...?"
I tell him "Yea it is, it's snowing like crazy, we should probably get back soon."
Fred says, "Yea....That's probably not going to happen, their ground transport service can't be here for one to two hours, so they asked if we would transport."
"OK then, let's get it done, I'll go tell Chad & get the stretcher." I replied.
So i go inform Chad that our job here isn't finished and we get everything together & wheel it back into the ER and on the way I pass a Dr on the phone with West Penn so they can be ready when we get there.
Now I'm starting to get a feeling of urgency and out side the room Fred pops out again and I ask "This dude's pretty bad off, huh?"
He simply replies "Bad off would be an improvement."
Then I say, "Well, with the roads & the weather the way they are, I don't think this is going to be a quick trip."
He nervously replies "I know."
At this point the seriousness of the situation hits us. This guy doesn't need to be in a cath lab now, he needed to be in one yesterday.
We all kinda take a quick quiet deep breath & Fred asks "Ready"
"Yup....let's do this." I answered.
Chad nods & gives us a "Lets roll." then heads out to get the ambulance warmed up and ready while Fred and I wheel the stretcher into the room, to again, make the switch. This time, the patient has 2 more IV's that we have to maneuver as we lift him over to our stretcher, get him settled in for the ride then wheel him out to the ambulance.
Now by this time the patient has become more comfortable with us and is cracking jokes like "Oh great, you too again.....can I get a meal on the trip this time?" we nervously chuckle and load him into the stretcher with Drs in tow giving Fred instructions.
Fred acknowledges and tells them if needs be, we'll be back. And our journey begins.
Now as fast as weather would safely allow, we head towards the parkway, lights & siren, and as we approach the parkway the patient slips into unconsciousness. Fred starts to holler his name.
Chad questions from the front "Head back (to forbes)?"
Just then, the patient comes to.
"No Chad, we're good" Fred answers.
Then as we're on the parkway on ramp, the Pt slips out again & shows a goofy rhythm for a split second.
Chad asks again "Do you want me to head back?....tell me now while I can still turn and go down the next on ramp (the wrong way)."
The patient again comes to and Fred says "Nah, i think we're ok"
"Are you sure, we're almost to the point of no return....." Chad shoots back.
"We're good, just keep going and watch the road (condition)"
Fred yells back.
"Don't worry," Chad says "the road (on the parkway) is just wet.
Which makes us fell just a tad bit at ease.
We make it a few more minuets down the road, and as soon as we get to what could be considered a "half way point" the Pt straight up crashes
Fred yells "Stan!, bag him" (use the bag valve mask to breath for the patient)
"Got it!" I say as we each switch seats.
I kinda stand over the patient and start bagging him with one hand while I'm doing chest compressions with the other.
Fred says "I know you gotta do it one handed but these compressions gotta count " as he starts pushing (administer via IV) certain cardiac drugs charging the monitor/defibrillator. Then we here the distinctive "snap crackle and pop" as a few of his ribs break from me doing compressions. (it's normal during good quality CPR)
"Never mind" he says, then "Ready?!" he asks
I give him a nod then he shouts "CLEAR!!"
I yell back "GOOD!" to let him know I'm safe and clear of the patient & stretcher then "Whack!" Fred delivers the shock...and the patient has a good heart beat again.
We continue on to West Penn, constantly check his vitals...he's kinda in and out and barely responding to his name.
Fred, tells me to move so he can intubate the patient to secure an airway (insert a tube in through the mouth down to/near the opening of the lungs) and hands me the mic & says I'm calling (medical) command, you just hold the mic.
So as he's intubating he's on the radio telling the Doc at Forbes what's going on & the doctor tells him to just follow protocol (preauthorized plan of care) and keep doing what we're doing and that he would update West Penn so they're ready.
I hang the mic back up as Fred gets the tube (successful intubation) and we hook the bag valve mask straight up to the tube and start helping him breath and bang, he crashes again. So again I go into the dual role of pumpin & blowin. (EMS slang for CPR)
Fred pushes more drugs and then "CLEAR" Fred hits him again, then looks at the monitor..."Nope!...CLEAR!"
he hits him again....looks....."We got it."
"Shit!....CLEAR!"
He drops out so Fred zaps him a third time.
This time the heart beat stays, but only for a minuet or two then down he goes again.
We would continue like this for what seemed like hours. A continuous hectic ballet of CPR, IV drugs and defibrillation. We started out following the general rule of 3 shocks followed by cardiac IV drugs and CPR but eventually it wasn't enough and we reached the end of Fred's paramedic protocol for a cardiac arrest, meaning we have performed every emergency medical intervention that we're authorized to do. So Fred says "let's just keep going" and the ballet continued, even managing to almost shock each other once or twice during the chaos and using up all of the cardiac drugs on the ambulance which only meant more CPR for us, and my arms were starting to feel like jello.
After what seemed like a few long hours, we pull into the ER at West Penn and we're still in the back pumpin, blowin & shockin.
Chad gets out and comes around back to help us get him out and as soon as he opens the door we tell him to tell security to get us help, then get in and help with CPR.
Chad screams over to the guard, climbs in & starts compressions to give Fred & I a break.
Caught up in our work, about 15 minuets goes by and we notice we still have no help from the ER. This guys feet from the door to the ER (and the rest of his life) and was in such condition that we couldn't stop even for a second to get him out of the bus. We were keeping him alive.
I switch with Chad and again start chest compressions stoping only to administer shocks, and send him to find our help.
He returns later with a nurse, she was a little thing, maybe 5'4" & 100 lbs soaking wet. She looks in the back and says "Oh My God" in utter disbelief of us administering more shocks and perform CPR amidst the absolute mess we've made in the back of the ambulance.
Fred calmly says, "Sorry hun, but I think your going to need more help" and the nurse takes off back into the ER for reinforcements.
The adequate help arrived, and we get the guy out & on the way into the ER. I'm standing on the side of the stretcher doing compressions, Fred's bagging explaining how we were originally supposed to go straight to the cath lab but he crashed & it's been chaos ever since.
We get him into an ER Room, then off the stretcher & onto the bed, and a nurse kindly relieves me of chest compressions so I switch up with Fred and started bagging again whole he continues with the report.
After about 5 minuets in the ER we get an acceptable rhythm and as soon as we go to move him to the cath lab, he crashes again.
We continued working him for another 40 minuets untill we got him stable enough to send him to the cath lab.
As they wheel him away, all that's left in the room is Fred and I. We just stand there, sort of collecting out thoughts as we begin to mentally process what had just just transpired. I notice the ER room is now trashed, with a small island of clean floor where the ER bed sat. I look at Fred, a seasoned medic, and he too kinda has the blank stare that I'm feeling. We look at each other and kinda nod, as If to say "Good job" He looks totally whooped and I'm sure I look no better. I'm sweating, my arms feel like rubber and I'm just plain exhausted. Then he breaks the silence and says "We should probably go clean up."
I quietly answer "yup...."
So we head out to the ambulance.
When we get there, to our surprise, we find the Chad had pretty much had it cleaned up. We helped him finish what little was left, then Fred suggested we head up to the cath lab to see if he in fact made it up for the procedure. so we had back in. We find our way and step into the control room to see them finishing preparations on our patient when the Dr walks in and asks "Can I help you."
"Fred tells him we brought him in how we had one hell of a fight to get him there. The Dr pats us on the shoulder and says "Good job guys, I got it from here." and then steps into the procedure room.
We stayed to watch for a little bit then decided it was time to go.
On the ride home, we light heartedly talk about the ordeal we had just went through, Fred, taking notes the whole time do that he can be sure to get everything documented on the state (ambulance) trip sheet (call report) And it wasn't until we "relived" it in conversation and looked at the printed strip (report) from the heart monitor that recoded to memory ever heart rhythm and every shock. As it turned out, we had defibrillated this guy 37 times (yes, thirty-seven) which is practically unheard of, we had done, re-done and done again every possible thing we could to get this guy where we needed to be.
Finally, at around 11:30 we arrive back at the station and we peel ourselves out of the ambulance so we can clean it and finish putting it back together to get it back in service. Then shower & head back to bed.
Later in the day we would receive a call from the Dr in the Cath Lab. As it turns out it was a curtsy call to let us know that our patient did intact make it through the procedure and would be just fine.
We had done it....We fought long and hard, faced practically ever challenge we possibly could and used every skill we had, and we came out on top, and had we not been so damn tired, probably went for a beer.
To this day, I don't think I have ever had to work that hard on any ambulance call......it was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausting, but it's the reason we do the job.

Thick Skinned

"For those who protect it, life has a meaning the sheltered will never know." - unknown


If you were to ask my wife what she thinks about me being a firefighter/EMT, one of the things she'd probably tell you, because theres no easy way to explain it, is "He's fucked up" or "cold hearted" Now some who know me may agree with that for different reasons, what she is referring to is my psyche, more specifically the "cavalier" additude I have towards the uglier parts of the job. More specifically, how after seeing blood, guts, death and dismemberment, I can come home and eat, or go back to sleep, or just carry on with my day like nothing happened.
You see, people always ask the same few questions..."Have you ever saved anybody?"....."Is it hot?"....and "What's it like?" All of them inquiring about the exciting and dangerous parts of the job, but never give two thoughts about the ugly side of the job. The dark and grim events in life for which we have a front row seat.
I honestly don't think I could even begin to tell you how many dead people I've seen, or even how many I've watched die, and by that I literally mean watching a persons life slip away and cease right in front of my eyes. As horrible as it may sound, it's all part of a any given day on the job. It could be weeks or months before your faced with a call where you can't make the save. Then there are the times when the grim reaper stows away on one of the rigs so he can ride around with you to get caught up on his quota.
Truth is, you never know what your going to find on scene. Sure, there's the more obvious patients. Usually it's something like a cardiac arrest call. Where you expect to run in & see the person lifeless & kinda pale laying on the floor. Or, if you get called for an MVA (motor vehicle accident) your going to find at least one wrecked vehicle, maybe more and you can almost always count on someone having at least some "lawyer pain" (the "agonizing" pain that changes in severity & location from the time you get on scene to the time you hand them off at the ER) Or say a traumatic injury call where you expect a lot of blood, or a bone sticking through the skin. You almost always have an idea of what you'll find, but your never 100% sure, and to really keep you on your toes, there are even times when you arrive on scene and find something totally different than what you were called for.
For example, a call for a "severe" nose bleed only to arrive on scene to find your patient had tripped and face planted onto a set of concrete stairs. So, yes his nose is in fact bleeding, what someone failed to mention was that it's also smashed. Along with his broken jaw, missing teeth, gash on the forehead and so on.
Then there are the calls that seem as if they'll be nothing more than an expensive taxi ride to the hospital but skips turning bad and goes straight to worse. I remember taking an call for a nose bleed, it was an Alpha response, meaning no lights or siren, the lowest priority call. I shoulda known nothing good was gonna come out of it either, I was driving & my tech (the person handling patient care) was a total idiot....but its a nose bleed so how bad can it be, right?
We arrived on scene to find an elderly female with an obvious nose bleed. She wanted to be transported, so we did, and wouldn't you know it, 5 min into the trip to the hospital, "SURPRISE" she go's into cardiac arrest. So just because a call seems like it will be routine doesn't mean it will be.
If you haven't figured it out yet, death is undoubtably part of the job, and it pretty safe to say that people in this field probably see more dead people and death in one year than most people do in a lifetime....literally. Sure it may sound a little harsh, but that's the truth of it. We are trained as firefighters, EMTs and Paramedics to save lives but we also understand that sometimes they're just too far gone and its just out of our hands.
There are the calls that always seemed to kinda piss me off. Those are the ones where you are able to keep the patient alive or even bring back to life, in the back of the ambulance, and usually your bustin your ass doing everything you can to save them. Then you get to the hospital and roll them in side with a heart beat, only to see the Dr. call it (pronounce them dead) not even 5 min after you get there. You want to grab him by his stethoscope and yell "Hey Doc!! What the Fuck!?"
You bust your ass and put in all that hard work to get some poor bastards heart beating again and then poof, its all for nothing. And you really do bust your ass. Ask any medic or EMT, after a good call where you have to seriously work the patient and time is of the essence, you are whooped. It's like this physically tiring emotional high, thinking that all your work will pay off this time only to find out it won't. It's a bit disheartening, but pisses you off more than anything, well at least me anyway.
Then there's the calls that stand out for different reasons. One example was an accident with rollover and ejection. (person thrown from vehicle) this poor guy, in his 30's lost control & rolled his pick up truck & was ejected. When he was thrown from the vehicle, he landed on top of the Jersey barrier, then plopped down onto the road. As we arrived on scene, we found two nurses performing CPR. Because patient care was started, we're obligated to continue. But we could tell it was a lost cause. By the way his head was positioned, it was fairly obvious his neck was broken. I happened to be in the fire side of things for this call, do we helped the ambulance crew load him up & get going, he was pronounced (dead) almost immediately upon arrival at the trauma center.
Back on scene, while cleaning up debris & looking for some patient identification, we came across A Military helmet. We then found his wallet in the cab of the truck, right next to a airline ticket stub that was paper clipped to some photos and discharge papers. Turns out he had just flown into the states after a tour of duty in Iraq. Here was an American soldier who had seen combat & couldn't have been back in the states for more than 12 hours, and now he was dead.
And somewhere, was his family, patiently waiting to hug him because he had made it home safe from War, only to find out they would never get the chance.
And then there are calls you get where you know it's just gonna be plain ugly, but you still aren't sure what to expect. Persons hit by a train fall into this category. I responded to a few of these over the years, and they're all different, gruesome as hell, but different.
One I went on turned into a lighting detail and a body (parts) recovery. According to the train engineer, he was tooling along at about 40 mph when he noticed something between the tracks but couldn't tell what it was, then, at the last second, "it"sat up.
We spent about 2 1/2 hours looking for pieces, parts & guts, chasing away the raccoons & other critters that were eating said pieces, and marking what we found with lite flags so the coroner could collect & identify (as best he could) what it was we found (you never realize how long the intestines are until they're laid out in the dirt) After everything was marked & documented, we placed everything into red biohazard bags, the placed those in a body bag. The largest "hunk" we found was a section of upper leg. It was still attached (sorta) to half the pelvis and lopped off just below the knee. We also spend a good 30 minuets explaining to the State Trooper why we couldn't find the head. Imagine taking a watermelon and throwing it in front of a speeding train. POOF! Instant disintegration. Except for the chunk of his scalp and a few teeth that we're stuck to the front of the train, the rest of the head had pretty much vaporized.
Over the years, I've seen just death from about every "common" way you can think of. I think the easiest way to explain the different ways I've seen death come would be to say the only "common" way I have NOT witnessed death is by stabbing. You also notice certain things, things you kinda wish you hadn't, for example, brains smell horrible, burt flesh is even worse, bone is actually off white tanish grayish kinda color and 98% of the time when they die, they shit themselves. I would guess its safe to say you really cant appreciate any of that unless you've seen or smelt it in person. And the smells are such that they practically stick with you all day and leave a taste in your mouth.
And with all of that and then some,we wake up the next day, strap our boots on and do it again. Not because we're sick in the head, but simply because someone has to do it, yea it's a bit cliché, but it's the truth. Your probably never truly going to understand why we do it, or what it's like unless you experience it, and even still you may not. It's just simply not for everyone.
As you can imagine based simply on what you've just read, we really do see truly horrible things. Dealing with what you come across as different for any given first responder. Some handle it pretty good & take it in stride, others, not so much. Each individual is different. Me, I deal with it by being thankful I can go home and hug my family, and, remembering that the dying die, the dead stay dead and I am not God. And even sometimes, once the stress of what I seen have built up inside me, a good hard cry is enough to reset the system.
So how does one continue to step into the horrors of life day after day? Simply put, once you've spent so much time around death, you simply just get used to it, but, in the process, you definitely learn to appreciate life a little more.