Skip to main content

Advertisement

ADVERTISEMENT

Original Contribution

Lose Your Breath

August 2008

     I had just gotten off I-5 after making the drive from Tacoma to Portland, and was slowly but surely weaving my way through the residential section where my daughter's recently purchased home was situated. I hadn't seen the house prior to the purchase, but my wife said it was in decent shape and just needed some "updating." Apparently, I was an integral part of the update team, and today I was tiling the bathroom floor.

     Just a couple of blocks before I reached her house, the road dipped and slowed down, and I saw a guy on a mountain bike blaze by on my right. The man was clearly in a serious hurry. He had barely cleared the dip in the road and the cross street when a huge pick-up truck, whose driver was distracted by his dog behind him, went a good six feet past the stop sign and partially into the intersection.

     I watched as the cyclist continued up the hill, totally unaware that his life could have just ended if he had only been a couple of seconds later coming through that intersection. Fortunately, his day would continue and he would never know how different things might have been.

     When I witness events like these, they feel like an emotional slap in the face; like a reality check that reminds me just how fragile and precious life really is. Day after day in EMS, we see countless folks who aren't as lucky as the guy on the bike. Like the family of four coming home from the movies that is wiped out by a drunk who falls asleep at the wheel and drifts over the center line. The family did nothing wrong, other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. We see the guy at the foot of the stairs with a fractured neck, after tripping and falling down a stairway he has safely traversed a thousand times before. We see lives and lifetimes evaporate in the blink of an eye, over and over and over.

     As part of our coping strategy in managing the sad, tragic and often violent events we see thrust upon those we serve, we clearly need to create and maintain an attitude and demeanor that allows us to meet our professional commitments, while at the same time providing us just the right "distance" to protect ourselves emotionally. Too often, I think the professional defense façade stays in place too long, or, in some cases, stays in place permanently, muting our emotions while we prepare ourselves psychologically for the next 9-1-1 event that lands at our feet.

     I remember reading a quote that said, "Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away." Whenever I think of it, it makes me smile. If what is said is true, then we need to make sure our profession doesn't bleed into our personal life and impact it to the point where it dulls us to the things in life that really matter, like when your daughter makes her final tumbling pass and flawlessly sticks her landing to win the state gymnastics title. When your son doubles off the left field wall to drive in the winning run that clinches the division baseball championship. When your wife's hybrid rose takes first prize and a blue ribbon at the county fair. Or when your best friend tells you he has found the girl of his dreams. These are once-in-a-lifetime, once-in-a-family, once-in-a-friendship events. These are the very moments that should take our breath away.

     Actively seek out opportunities to revel in the special moments life provides. Just as we learn to manage the trials and tribulations that come with our work in EMS, we need to cultivate an attitude of true appreciation for all that life offers so we can extract each and every breathtaking moment that comes our way. Don't let the day-in, day-out hurts, illnesses and sorrows of working in EMS ever stop you from enjoying a single one of those breathtaking moments in your life and in the lives of those who are most important to you. Take a moment every day to be thankful for your family and the other loved ones in your life, recognizing that there is no guarantee you or they will be there to see the sun come up tomorrow. Always be ready the next time one of life's breathtaking moments comes your way. Then go ahead and lose your breath. It's good for you.

     Until next month…

Mike Smith, BS, MICP, is program chair for the Emergency Medical Services program at Tacoma Community College in Tacoma, WA, and a member of EMS Magazine's editorial advisory board. He is a featured speaker at EMS EXPO, October 15–17, in Las Vegas, NV. Visit www.emsexpo2008.com.

Advertisement

Advertisement

Advertisement