Paramedic SuperMonkey: Why We Do

My brother’s little girl was born premature by 3 months. She had a lot of health problems in her first few years of life and today is mildly autistic. When she was born, my brother and his wife Tonya had moved to a little town outside of Portland and was working for a local utilities company. He was a volunteer firefighter in that town, the same as here in Seaside before he moved. He’s also a very proficient EMT.

One morning, Gordon’s wife was watching their little girl when she stopped breathing. It wasn’t unusual, and had happened a few times before. Tonya knew what to do and did the few stimulus activities that the NICU nurses had taught her… only this time they didn’t work. She cried for Gordon who came running into the room and saw his little girl turning blue and not breathing. He checked a pulse and not feeling one, started CPR.

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I’ve asked myself and some of my coworkers over the years, “why do you enjoy being an EMT?” (or a firefighter, depending on who I’m asking). The answers are varied, of course. Most have some variation of “because I want to help people.” One of my fellow paramedics tells me he’s here because its less stressful than his lost job—he was cabinet maker before.

Many of my fellow EMTs tell me they’re here because its more interesting that what they did before. Whether it was surveying, delivering pizza, or drug running (seriously), they find working as an EMT more entertaining.

My supervisor was recently quoted in a local paper as saying “My favorite part is making a difference in someone’s life. Sometimes that means holding a patient’s hand and taking them to the hospital. Sometimes is means saving a life.”

For me, I’m not sure I have a simple answer to the question. I started in volunteering for the fire department my senior year of high school as my community service/graduation project. It was an easy way to get the hours and it let me spend time with my brother and dad. At the time, it was the era of the dotcom boom and all I wanted was a career in computers. Then the boom went flat and I was left looking for a new path. By the time I graduated, I enjoyed my time volunteering and moved into the fire station as a resident volunteer—but I still wasn’t sure it was what I really wanted.

I worked customer service, first as a floor manager at the local movie theatre, then as a front desk agent at a hotel before I started full time on the ambulance. But even as I became a full time, paid responder, I still wasn’t sure what I wanted. I was still testing for fire department jobs, but wasn’t thrilled about working 24-hour shifts, and neither was my wife.

This were different for my brother, though. He knew he wanted to be a fireman as soon as dad brought home his bunker boots when my brother and I were still little. Right out of high school he was applying for full time for jobs. He must have taken at least 50 in the last ten years and some times he’d get as close as the final chief’s interview before being cut. Time and again I saw him get cut down, only to get back up, dust himself off, and sign right back up for the test. If only I’d had that kind of dedication and drive.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy what I do. I love being a paramedic. I feel like I’m putting my skills and knowledge to use on a daily basis. I know that I’m helping people and most of the time that gets me through the shift. I’ve transported friends and family and known that I’ve made a difference for them. I have seen heartache and been on the calls that bring my family tragedy. I know that EMS is a team effort, but I know that because of my skills, there are a couple of people out there still alive and that makes me feel wonderful. Sometimes I think I’m here doing this because it’s what I’m comfortable doing—who wants to rock the boat, right? Right now, I can say for sure that I’m here because I have job security. With the economy as poor as it is, I know that I have a good paying job for my family that isn’t going to disappear. I just don’t know that I have a single, sum-it-all-up answer to “why do I do what I do?”

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Gordon performed CPR on his little girls until the ambulance arrived. By that time, she was breathing on her own again and crying. She went in again for another stay in the NICU, my brother and his wife at her side.

Gordon once told me that if his whole purpose, his whole reason for taking all the fire classes, for becoming an EMT, for testing for all those fire jobs and getting shot down time and again, that if he was never meant to get a fire job—that his only reason for all of it was to save his daughter’s life that morning, it was all worth it.

I hope that someday I can have as noble an answer as my brother’s for why we do what we do.