Giving the World Just a Bit of Yourself

I'm a former (volunteer) EMT and, at least in the state I was certified in, the training for volunteer and career was the same (although the hours were, of course, far different). This was a time of my life that I still take a lot of pride in, almost 30-years' worth of pride. Actually, there were several members of my immediate family who either volunteered or worked in the EMS field. I stopped riding several years before the COVID nightmare and I can't even imagine the stress of the past year-and-a-half; still have active EMS family who did see COVID and its devastation.

 

My "other" career, far longer than my EMS involvement, has been that of a writer. In part a novelist (spicy romantic suspense) and in part a journalist. I enjoy the times I get to write about EMS and especially when I must learn something new about the field in order to properly present it. I write a monthly column in an EMS trade paper and occasionally get to cover, or report on, education and events in emergency response. I enjoy those times I get to immerse myself in a class or discussion, I love hearing about new techniques, protocols, findings and more. I guess Emergency Medical Services has remained a part of me and something that I will never emotionally leave.

 

Both by ZOOM (mostly due to the pandemic), I had the wonderful opportunity to sit in on two different and comprehensive EMS Conferences. It was thrilling for me to listen to the newest advancements and to understand the EMS community a little bit more. I loved hearing about Community Paramedicine, record keeping, stress of the job, and even newer equipment to help make the job "easier". It's true that this time in my life has completely changed me forever — I feel pride, accomplishment, understanding, what it means to be a part of a team, and especially about human emotions from birth to death, quite literally.

 

EMS was not the first community organization that I ever volunteered for, as a young adult I devoted four-and-a-half years with the Auxiliary Police in the city I grew up in. I felt a lot of pride there too, and again I wasn't the only member of my family; I had followed my dad's lead… and as a bonus, that's where my husband and I found each other! Although in this case the training was nowhere as comprehensive and disciplined as the employed law enforcement, it was still pretty thorough for the duties we were trained to assume. It was a very rewarding experience to give back to the community where I grew up.

 

While I certainly don't expect everyone else to have had the same passions as I did, I do respect EVERYONE who have given, and possibly still do, of themselves and their time to better their communities and help their neighbors. Can you imagine a world where everyone took a part in making it better, safer, happier? Can you imagine the fulfillment those people feel when they see a child that they tutored make Communion or their Bat Mitzvah? Imagine the happiness of seeing a family hug each other after a daring rescue? Or imagine seeing hope on an old woman's face as you take the time to sit with her as she eats her very welcomed dinner?

 

Everything someone can do for their neighbors, their country, and their world makes such a difference for both the recipients of their kindness and for the giver himself or herself. If we all found SOMETHING to do, to contribute and to feel pride in doing, it is worth more than any dollar figure or bronze statue. Sometimes it doesn't take a whole lot of effort, an extra grocery bag dropped off at a food pantry, a committee member who makes sure that shut-ins know about useful programs, an interested adult who coaches children in softball… so many things we can do for others and, in the long run, for ourselves.

 

Kudos to ALL the volunteers. THANK YOU!

 

Team Players

Whether it’s the work office or a volunteer organization, you can get more things done when people work together — just like any coordinated TEAM.

Surprisingly though some people take a back seat when it comes to getting things done, BUT sure do let their mouths make their presence known. Unfortunately the negativity they tend to spread sometimes has an effect on other people and their willingness to help. There are those folks who will make snide and unsubstantiated allegations, I guess somehow they feel some sort of warped power.

Luckily while there are some borderline volunteers/workers that may get discouraged by the rhetoric, the negativity sometimes makes others more determined to get the “job” done the RIGHT way.

From a 2013 article in Psychology Today, “Why is this? Why do people so often want to hurt and harm others? Decades of research indicates that there is much truth in the popular belief that people are mean to others in order to feel better about themselves.”

It seems that if a person feels bad about themselves, they try to cast those same negative qualities on others so that they are no longer the “bad guy”. The lower a person’s self-esteem, the more they want to “see” the bad in others in the hopes that they can start believing “hey, I’m really not THAT bad.”

And from The Atlantic, “According to their understanding, we judge the power of others relative to our own: When we feel powerful, others appear less so --and powerlessness and smallness often go together in our minds.”

I volunteer in the community where I live, I try to use my natural talents and experience to make my community just a little better; and yes that certainly does sound a bit egotistical on my part! There are those who just want to complain, cast aspersions against others, and stir up trouble where there is none… all because they are trying to make themselves feel better!

I’ve tried to pull the obstinate into the mix and letting them have a part in getting the job done; sometimes it works. I would love to see all that negativity being channeled and turned into positive efforts. To steal a cliché, think of the mountains we could move if we worked together. But each of us can only open the door, we can’t force others to feel the same way or as strongly as we might.

To be honest most times I don’t even bother engaging them in their silly little games. I understand that by not engaging them they are not being given the power to feel better about themselves — but at the same time engaging the troublemakers would only waste MY time trying to get things done.

So in effect the morale of this tale is not to let others’ anger or complaints discourage you when you are simply trying to do your part. It’s not personal, it’s not about YOU.

Deadline

Oh my, that word sounds so ominous! Dead… line, it almost sounds like “you will hang at dawn”. It is so final, just like there is nothing beyond. A deadline is a noun and according to Dictionary.com, there are three meanings to this formidable noun: “⁽¹⁾ the time by which something must be finished or submitted; the latest time for finishing something: a five o'clock deadline; ⁽²⁾ a line or limit that must not be passed; ⁽³⁾ (formerly) a boundary around a military prison beyond which a prisoner could not venture without risk of being shot by the guards.”

No wonder the term strikes fear in students, masses of office workers watching the clock, and writers. Missing that deadline could mean a failing grade, an angry boss, or a lost contract. Sometimes life interferes with the assigned deadlines, (a party, an emergency, an illness) but most times that won’t make a lick of difference to the person waiting for that finished product. “The dog ate my homework” just won’t work anymore. It’s truly anxiety producing.

As a creative sort, otherwise known as a freelance writer, I’ve learned the importance of deadlines. In all my years of professional writing I have truly only missed one deadline, I honestly can’t remember the reason why, but it certainly didn’t go well. Now creative people are not usually known for routine or well-controlled organization, but when it comes to a deadline, oh boy! In addition to my paid writing gigs I sometimes offer my services in a volunteer situation, and I treat these voluntary pacts the same way I do my business dealings, as professionally as I can muster.

This past week was a challenge on a voluntary gig. I had to wait for input from another individual who does not live by the golden rule of YOU HAVE TO MAKE THE DEADLINE. I am not sure what her business is but I do know that she controls her hours and her work output. So I finally got her input and set about to editing it and then placing it in the item that was due for publication just four days later. And I sent it (via email) to the next step, the person in charge of distribution — only that person, unbeknown to me, had a family event and was away for the weekend and so my finished work sat unattended. As the date of distribution came without any progress I do admit feeling some (minor) palpitations.

Now this was a challenge. I had no way of getting this item out to the people who were promised its receipt. What to do???? Well to make a probably boring long story short, I did manage to get the item posted on a substitute site and the item was emailed from another source a day late. I had posted an apology to those waiting for it and promised delivery as soon as possible. In the end it was no harm no foul, folks appreciated being kept in the loop as such. Within three days of the original deadline everything was back to normal and I got to breathe a sigh of relief.

Of course now I am sitting here wondering, just where did my once fun-loving, free-wheeling self go? And when did I become so rigid? I don’t want to have an anal personality! I am NOT reserved and meticulously neat. A long, long time ago a teenage boyfriend once dedicated the song Wild Thing to me and everyone agreed it fit. I’m fun-loving and wild and unpredictable… or so I thought.

Sigh, is this what it means to be a grownup?

..

A Teaser from Final Sin

There wasn't anyone there who didn't look like they weren't ready to heave. Julie felt sorry for the vollies, the members of the local volunteer ambulance corps. At least she and Matt were being paid to be there. Then again, no amount of money was worth witnessing the carnage that was lying there before them.

Matt had done the unwelcome task and already pronounced one of the girls dead. It was obvious death, obvious to anyone. Trying her best not to step into the pool of blood or disturb anything else vital to the crime scene investigation that would follow, she finished preparing the one girl who was still alive for transport.

A young man in his late twenties or early thirties, Julie wasn't sure without reading the patient care report, had been burnt when his shirt had caught fire. He was sitting huddled and guarding his severely burnt arm as Matt treated him. He looked scared and in shock at the events around him and wouldn't look at any of the police officers who had responded. Julie assumed that it was his need to deny the trauma.

A broad shouldered officer came through the door and took command of the scene. He seemed hardened to the butchery, almost as if he had seen too many gruesome scenes just like this one. Dressed in a dark blue baseball jacket, open collar knit shirt and khaki pants, he donned a pair of latex gloves he had carried in his pocket and began an almost detached visual inspection of the room. The springy snap of the elastic gloves stretching to fit his large hands was in sharp contrast to his motionless stance. Other officers at the scene deferred to his judgment and took instructions from him as he calmly took in the entire scene. He was concerned with the best way to collect the pertinent evidence to tell the story of what had happened.

As Julie and one of the ambulance crew members moved the surviving girl to the gurney, she risked a quick look at the tall officer’s dark eyes and noted that there was a thinly disguised veil of dismay. He had intrigued her with his stony expression and seeming aloofness to the horrors, and his complete focus on the collection of relevant clues.  Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, it was a comfort to Julie that the cop was not completely indifferent to this horror or detached from the human cost.

For Matt and Julie, their tour of duty had started out like many others. There had been a call to a minor motor vehicle accident, another for chest pains and one more for a cancer patient who needed to go to the hospital for treatment. Many of the upstate New York communities had contracted with Paramedic services to complement the existing ambulance corps and provide emergency medical response. Whether paid or unpaid, the certified corps always responded with Emergency Medical Technicians who were capable of handling most emergencies. When the Paramedics were dispatched as well, IV drugs and additional hands could often help make critical differences when necessary.

This call had gone out over the radio for a burn victim, so none of the responding police, fire fighters, volunteer ambulance crew nor paramedics were prepared for what they found when they reached this isolated tool shed. From the outside, the grayed wood had seemed serene enough, and the one small window had been caked over with dirt. She didn't think that she would have given the shed a second glance under normal circumstances. But this was far from normal. No one had anticipated the horror scene inside.

Final Sin

Final Sin is the first of my two EMS mystery stories.

I've been a NYS Emergency Medical Technician since 1987 and a volunteer with Stony Point Ambulance Corps ~ my whole family works and volunteers in emergency medical services. While Final Sin, and it's sequel Hyphema, are works of fiction, many of the EMS perspectives are very real.

Being an EMS volunteer has been a completely enriching experience and has given me a wonderful opportunity to be a vital asset to my community which depends on volunteer emergency services. All of these years of being an EMT has also given me great insight into the beauty and fragility of human life.

I hope you will share some of my experiences - please read my books Final Sin and Hyphema. And why not consider volunteering in your own community and helping your neighbors in their times of need?