An aside for my non-EMS readers: a BLS truck is staffed with only 2 EMTs. The problem with this is that they often get tossed the easiest and “useless” 911 calls, long distance transfers, and generally anything else non-life threatening.

The last 24-hour shift on a BLS truck was one of the bad ones. There were a lot of calls, and not many of them seemed worth the fuel it took to get there. Transfers, useless abuse of the 911 system, endless trips down large dark stretches of highway, drinking cold water to stay awake because I knew when I got back, the show was far from over. We see it time and time again, people that come into the field gung-ho and ready to change lives. That lasts about a month or two. Then the mundane sets in. Then each “call for transfer information” is the same as the last, and the small adjustment you make for that pothole on that road which you take to that call becomes second nature. And before long, you’re bored. And the beginning of burnout has set in.

As I sat in the back of the ambulance on my last shift, glancing at the wavy blue line that told me my patient’s pulse was still strong, I began to think. I thought about my career as an EMT, I began to think about all the people I’ve “saved”, and the ones I’ve lost. But more importantly, what began to weigh on my mind was just how worthless it began to appear. Here I was, a competent EMT, in the back of the ambulance on what felt like the 100^th transfer of a very long 24-hour shift. Sure, someone must take this patient back to her residence, I thought. And my thoughts aren’t going to prevent me from giving her the best care possible, and from feeling the very most compassion I could offer her; no, no. But why does that have to be me? I know I’m not the only one to think this way. Many EMTs who have seen very bad calls, and very critical patients, and proven themselves to be worthy of the title of Emergency Medical Technician feel this way. This economic climate and EMS culture that says back-to-back transfers are a part of the job of an EMT is taxing. I began to wonder, is it true, are we just ambulance drivers? Is the title EMT beginning to sound derogatory? After all, it’s no stretch to realize that transfers require only one-tenth of the knowledge that EMTs learn in class. I once heard a paramedic remark, “We could teach a monkey to do transfers.”

He wasn’t wrong, you know. So, the real question is, what is happening to the real EMTs, the ones that are not just good, not just great, but excellent at their job. The EMTs that we trust more than some paramedics. These men and women that work hard, know their material and push themselves to do better the next time. I believe you’ll find them in the land of misfit toys. You’ll find them in the shadows, putting their head down, doing the support work. Cleaning the truck, emptying the trash, making the stretcher, supporting the fine men and women who have earned the distinction of a paramedic. But are they recognized? Not often. If a critical call goes well, most often it’s the paramedic that gets all the credit. It’s teamwork, they say, the team being the medic and the assisting medic the EMT called for before the medic even realized he was in too deep. I’ve heard it time and time again, “Why didn’t you have a medic? Who let you do that [insert EMT skill]? Only medics can call for helicopters. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It brings me sorrow to say that I don’t have the answers. I don’t know the answer to this devilish riddle. I’m ashamed to say, but being an EMT is going out of style.