Monday, April 8, 2013

The Waiting Game

Some might disagree, but I have to say that dispatching in a small town is harder on your emotions than doing it in a larger city. In a large city, bad things happen everyday, all the time. But in a small town, when you look up at the screen on the 911 system and you see the address of your neighbor, your preacher, your best friend's grandmother, it seems to make the call 1,000% harder to handle. Not necessarily because you know who might be on the other end, but more so because you know many people that would be affected if, Lord forbid, things decide to go south on the call.  Small communities are great places to live. Low crime rates, a friendly atmosphere, it's a very inviting domain. But something that comes with dispatching in a small community, especially if you originate from the area, is the risk you are taking knowing that the next person who calls 911 could somebody you know, or somebody who knows somebody you know. Do you follow?

Small communities, like the one where I live, tend to be very tight-knit. It's the kind of town where you drive down the main drag and wave at every single car that passes you by, either because you know the driver, or because they graduated from high school with your parents. Something that I've had a hard time coming to grips with is that yes, someday, I may be on 911 with my friend/neighbor/relative, and I can't really break from being what I am, a 911 operator. I don't want to get on the 911 and say "by the way, this is me." It seems unprofessional for one, and secondly, what if somebody on the other end is called to the other side by the Lord and it's because of something I could have done better. I don't think I could live with that kind of guilt. I'd go crazy.

It was said in the book "Answering 911: Life In The Hot Seat" by Caroline Burau that on her drive home, she would drive past houses and know the kinds of secrets those houses held. The things that happened at that residence that would probably be better kept under wraps. Do we want to know these things? Do we choose to know that the house on the corner of 5th and Main is where the troubled teen tried to overdose on medication and take their own life? Not even. But it's what we are called to do.

As I've said before, I make a living doing something many people would never consider even trying to attempt. It's a very scary feeling knowing that when you are on a 911 with somebody, you are their lifeline, and sometimes the only means they have of communicating with anybody at all. It's almost like you become a part of the person. You have to be their voice, changed from distress and despair to calm and understanding on the radio. You have to be the hands that perform CPR on the unknown subject who collapsed on the sidewalk in the middle of town. For the time being, you have ultimate knowledge of the situation and what is going on at every endpoint, from patient to help. And that feeling is quite scary.

So as I sit here waiting for EMS to give me a disposition from the priority 1 call they went on a while ago, I can only appreciate my position here, and pray to God that I truly am making a difference.

No comments:

Post a Comment