Remembering

My sisters and I were talking (on Messenger) last night. The conversation turned to things medical in nature. I’ll not elaborate on the conversation except to say that it prompted me to think back to past experiences in my work in health care. The variety of experience I recalled surprised even me.
I was an EMT for 15 years. I also worked at two small, rural hospitals during that time. It’s a little difficult to explain, but in that environment, we did many different jobs with the overriding purpose being to provide the best patient care possible. It made little difference if I was an x ray tech, for example, or not. If they needed help in x ray, I often helped with the positioning of patients, working with films (they didn’t have digital images then), or whatever else needed to be done. It was just that kind of environment, and provided many opportunities for experiences not anticipated.
As an EMT on call (volunteer service), not only did we respond in the community, we were even sometimes paged to the hospital to help out in the emergency room or otherwise if the hospital was short of help. That was the hospital’s reservoir of “last resort” to find adequate staffing for whatever situation was presenting at the time.
I have performed CPR and bagged more people than I can count. I’ve started IV’s, calmed patients, suctioned, held traction, provided oxygen therapy, held hands, taken vital signs, provided assurance, and stopped bleeding. I’ve helped out in X Ray, lab, maintenance, pharmacy, central supply, sterilizing, dietary, housekeeping, the operating room, the ICU (when we had one), and on the patient floor. I’ve helped birth babies. I’ve worked in surgery. I’ve sat with dying patients. I’ve driven the ambulance…and provided patient care in the back of an ambulance. I’ve made blood runs. I’ve transported dead bodies. I’ve even set up and operated a makeshift morgue more than once at the hospital during a disaster.
I’ve announced code blues over the hospital’s public address system. I’ve announced codes over the public safety radio frequencies. I’ve responded to codes called over those radio frequencies. I’ve even called for a medical evac helicopter to airlift a patient to a facility.
Many of the most intense memories are those of patients who died while I was there. A fourteen year old girl going through town on a trip with her parents walked into the hospital complaining of a bad headache. She died an hour later in our ICU of a brain hemorrhage.
A man driving a truck going through town stopped complaining of chest pains. He died about 45 minutes later in that same ICU of a myocardial infarction.
We picked up an older gentleman in the ambulance and took him to the hospital. He was quickly diagnosed with a bleeding aneurism and was told (tactfully) he would be dead in an hour or less, that nothing could be done. He called his daughter, who came in. He was dead 45 minutes later.
Most of the people who were patients there, I knew. I knew that some families’ lives would forever be changed because of what was happening. I saw families cope, fracture, heal, love, deny, and triumph. I saw secrets made bare, hopes and dreams vanish, and miracles happen.
It was an amazing, wondrous time…one that has forever changed me and, I hope, one in which I was able to be the hands and feet of God as He worked in our world. I will ever and always cherish that time and trust that God now has me where He wishes me to be at this time in history. I am blessed.