All In the Family

      Mike's an EMS guy. People who know him say rescue fits him like a wetsuit. His second home is the local ambulance squad, where he's part of the hurry-up-and-wait routine. Routine is not what Mike's about, though. His agenda today is whatever he couldn't do yesterday. Sometimes that frustrates him. He used to cry about it, but not so much anymore. Bed-wetting was an issue for a while, too. Now he's comforted by sleeping close to an ambulance—preferably one with a powered stretcher he can ride up and down.

   Mike is three years old. His parents and grandfather are EMS providers. They wish Mike would stop trying to intubate house pets with his mother's laryngoscope, or test the emergency button on his father's radio, but who can blame him? In his household, EMS isn't just a job or a hobby; it's a lifestyle.

   Mike's grandfather, Craig—firefighter, EMT and ex-chief—has been in the field since tricked out five-door Cadillacs were ambulances instead of SUVs. As you might expect, Mike's dad, Rob, grew up in an environment where strident pagers and pre-empted meals were as routine as rain. By 13, Rob was already volunteering at the local rescue squad. Rob met Kate, a paramedic at a Level I trauma center, while both were on duty in 2001. They got married in '04 and had Mike three years later.

   It wouldn't surprise me if Mike, Rob, Kate and Craig someday represent a new pedigree in the essential services: three generations of EMS. Until now arithmetic, not dedication, has been the obstacle. Our industry is less than 45 years old—hardly enough time for us to share titles with our grandkids. Conversely, some of our colleagues in the fire services can trace their professional bloodlines back a century or more—not surprising when you consider firefighting is as old as fire-starting. Police officers, too, can boast of grandparents in the same line of work. EMS families need another decade or so to start joining that club. When we do, here's how we might benefit.

Sharing the Burden

   Ever have an "I-don't-want-to-talk-about-it" day? I had a lot of those when I was the only one at home working as a journalist, or a factory manager, or a software developer. That changed when I started doing EMS full time, because other family members were already involved in rescue. I could vent to them without having to begin at the beginning. I never met a CISM debriefer who was as helpful as significant others after difficult calls.

   I've found EMS clans to be more understanding about schedule quirks, too. We know we're not part of the 9-to-5 world. We understand that family activities are hard to coordinate when the kids are the only ones with regular weekends. And when late calls lead to even later suppers, it's a relief not to face the Spanish Inquisition.

Access to Knowledge and Experience

   When I was studying engineering, I benefited by having two scientist parents—a chemist and a physicist. In the early '70s, when "google" was still just googol, a very large number (1 followed by a hundred zeroes), answers to questions about the mysteries of the universe were often only a phone call away. My transition to EMS 20 years later was easier, too, because of two brothers in healthcare.

   EMS families offer their young a continuum of know-how, easier to understand and much more colorful than any textbook.

Developing Traditions

   I think EMS providers could learn a lot from firefighters about building, promoting and maintaining traditions (see Skip Kirkwood's cover story in the August 2009 issue). EMS parents are well-positioned to lead the way, having twice as many reasons to reinforce concepts like respect for seniority and chain of command. Socialization is an important part of traditions, too. As we struggle with the transition from trade to profession, it wouldn't hurt to celebrate our successes, feel a little pride, and maybe tell some stories about those who helped us get started.

   Some would argue that such "window dressing" undermines public perception of our role and diverts attention from occupational initiatives like fair compensation and broad education. I disagree. I see traditions as complementing, not impeding those imperatives.

Caring for Caregivers

   When loved ones become ill or injured, who better to initiate care than knowledgeable relatives? EMS kin can leverage their experience by advocating for family members who must negotiate the slippery slopes of bureaucratic healthcare.

   Even hard-core multigenerational EMS families know there's more to life than ambulances and alarms. Youngsters sometimes have to be reminded that most people don't care about EMS until they're involuntarily horizontal. The odds of our offspring achieving job satisfaction and solvency in a world not known for valuing selflessness are greatly enhanced by higher education, broad interests and long-range planning. I've encouraged my kids to keep their options open, and I'm equally proud of my paramedic and my English major (although it's a lot easier for me to interpret Caroline than Kipling).

   Will Mike one day wear a Star of Life? Who knows? Maybe he'll just be the first kid in the county with a light bar on his bicycle. But if he decides to make patient care a career, he'll have one heck of a head start.

   Mike Rubin, BS, NREMT-P, is a paramedic at Opryland in Nashville, TN, and a member of EMS Magazine's editorial advisory board. Contact him at mgr22@prodigy.net.