Volunteering at an ambulance company isn't always the funnest and most joyful six hours of my week. However, the people I have met, the opportunities I have been afforded, and the knowledge I have learned from volunteering here is immesurable. The self-satisfaction of caring for another human being in a time of crisis is a beautiful thing. Not getting paid to do it makes it even more special. Whatever I have given to this place and the people we serve, I have always felt like I have received more in return.
Some calls can be devastating. Your heart aches and your soul trembles. You feel immense sadness for individuals and their families despite only knowing them for two minutes. But, through it all, you realize that they are God's children. They are your neighbors. And, If I have interpreted the Bible correctly up to this point, God commands us to, "love thy neighbor as thyself."
It was a cold, dark, and gloomy Tuesday night in December of 2018. Christmas was right around the corner, the semester was nearing it's end, life was great. As a probationary member, I had a very limited role at the ambulance company. I went on every call. I was learning and absorbing all of the knowledge from the Paramedic's and EMT's on the shift. The wealth of information they had about their craft and life in general was astonishing. Their was a family-like feel in the place. Everyone was kind and respectful. We had each other's backs. However, the greatest part about these men and women was their differences. Plumbers, doctors, lawyers, teachers, construction workers, college students, electricians, the list goes on and on. No one cared what you did for a living, how much money you made, or if you were dirt poor. The connection was deeper than that. We all shared a heart that cared and a soul that loved and forgave. That was the only pre-requisite for this place. This Tuesday night, like the one's before, I was scheduled for a 6 PM to 6 AM shift. It was 9:00 PM and the crew had just finished checking one of the rigs to make sure all of the necessary equipment to handle any call was on board. To be honest, the twelve-hour shift could be brutal at times. You knew you were not going to get much sleep. The couches in the crew room were not the same as my bed. And, the deafening alarm sounds always kept you on edge. And, yes, you always had some individuals who snored or continued talking until midnight. With work being at 7 AM the next morning, I was going to try and get to bed early that night.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! I was peacefully asleep on the couch in the crew room when the dispatch radio nearly deafened me. I sat up on the couch and look at my brother, Charlie. He has been an EMT-B at this ambulance company for roughly three years. He took me under his wing when I decided to join. He showed me the ropes. He taught me what it took to be a man that stood for something bigger than himself. In all honesty, Charlie is one of the nicest people I have ever met in my life. It is rare to find a person that doesn't like him. It is something about his personality. He is funny, charming, outgoing, and most importantly, reliable. My only complaint about Charlie is that he has made it extremely difficult for myself and my brother, Brendan to get ahead in this world. Whether it is at the ambulance, school, or my place of work, we live in his shadows. This is Charlie's world, and we are all just playing in it. People who knew Charlie would always say, "Oh, you're Charlie's brother. Charlie is the best. He is so funny and outgoing. We love him!" You wouldn't be able to tell I loved my brother if you stopped by my house at 6 PM on a weekday. We constantly fight and argue about dumb, meaningless things. But, at the end of the day, we will always be brothers and have a deep appreciation and love for one another. My mother always would say, "You better get to like your brothers because when Me and your father die,they will be the only one's you have." In a way, she is right. Should I invite him over my house for Christmas dinner? Hmmm, that is a decision I am still thinking about.
As soon as Charlie places his feet on the floor, another EMT-B on shift walks into the crew room. "I'll take this call," she said to Charlie. To Charlie, that is music to his ears! He rolls right back onto the couch and sleeps like he never woke up int he first place. As for myself, I had to go on the call. I wasn't a cleared member in the company yet and I wasn't an EMT-B either. I was like a rookie in baseball. And, as any good rookie knows, you are at the bottom of the totem pole when it comes to doing anything and saying anything.
The call came in as an overdose. Twenty-Five year old female. I looked at my watch. It was 3 AM. Although I was nervous, the driver and EMT were also somewhat apprehensive. However, they had both seen this before. It was second nature to them. When we finally arrived on scene, the Paramedic from our ambulance company was already on scene and inside the home. He had given this young woman two doses of Naloxone, more commonly referred to as Narcan. The patient's brother was screaming at the paramedic. "That is my sister man come on you have to do something, save her please!" Those words had the equivalence of the feeling you get when you are on a roller coaster and it drops one-hundred feet in ten seconds. You could hear the desperation in his voice. His sister was on the ropes, hanging on for her life. Thank God, she woke up. She was embarrassed. She felt miserable about herself. We loaded her into the back of the ambulance and transported her to the nearest hospital. The entire ride, the EMT, patient, and myself were having normal conversations. They were smooth and easy-going. We talked about family, faith, and life. She opened her hearts to us that night, and we listened. She told us her struggles with addiction. She told us that she had been sober for almost a year know. But, tonight, she went out with some friends and used again. She told us she was really trying to give drugs up for good. We believed her. We cared for her. We sympathized with her. We understood her and her struggle. When we arrived at the hospital, the patient's mother came in shortly thereafter. She was a sweetheart. She thanked us for helping her daughter. When we left the hospital that night, I had mixed feelings. I felt like I helped someone that night, but, at the same time I encountered an epidemic that I knew existed, but never witnessed first hand. It was the opioid epidemic. It was real. It was brutal.
When we arrived back at the ambulance that morning it was somewhere around 4:45 AM. I walked into the crew room and saw my brother sleeping. I so desperately wanted to wake him up and tell him about the call we just had. I loved doing that. But, this call was different. I never did fall back asleep that morning. Instead I stared at the ceiling above me and pondered life. I wondered how many people were suffering from addiction. When 6 AM rolled around, I was more than ready to leave. The garage doors opened and greeted me with cold, bitter, and damp air. I got into my vehicle and drove to work. I was physically tired, but believe it or not, I was mentally exhausted. I couldn't help myself from thinking about that twenty-five year old woman and the events that had transpired earlier that morning. We had saved her life. Because of us, a brother, mother, father, and friends wouldn't be looking through their closets for suits and dresses to wear to a funeral.
When I got home from work later that evening, I came across a troubling email. The twenty-five year old woman that we had saved the previous night had overdosed again. This time when she overdosed she went into cardiac arrest and resuscitation efforts had failed. She was dead. Hopefully, she made it to heaven. My heart ached. Not for myself. It ached for the brother and parents. It ached for her friends. My heart ached and my soul trembled. The feeling of loss was incredible. A sweet, kind-hearted young woman was taken from this earth far too soon. How did she get out of the hospital so quickly? Why wasn't she enrolled in a rehabilitation center? Questions that I wanted to ask, but, at the end of the day didn't matter. She was gone. We had failed. Society had failed. The opioid epidemic won again. The opioid epidemic will win again tonight. Perhaps it just one again as I was writing this article. The epidemic is real and the results are fatal.
