RESCUE ME !!!! ( But Not like that....)

   It was late. I don't remember how many calls we had already run that shift, but it was too many.
As we pulled up in front of the shabby little house, I grumbled into the mic, " Dispatch, 39's on scene."
I flipped on the scene lights facing the address, pulled on my gloves and headed to the other side of the truck to rendezvous with my partner. At the side door, we divided up the equipment we'd carry in, and started toward the house. No words flowed as we walked, no discussion or humor. Like I said, it was LATE.

The call was for hypoglycemia; literally, just low blood sugar. The answer for this problem is simple, swift and effective. On scene, we do a quick assessment that includes vitals and checking the patients BGL (blood glucose level ). If that confirms our suspicion that the patient is hypoglycemic, we administer an amp (large prefilled syringe) of Dextrose, 50% solution by IV. It works like a magic show most of the time. Most of the time, the patient feels so much better that they try to refuse transport. This really hurts our feelings. A lot. (Not Really. Most of us can't afford feelings...to expensive. I knew an EMT that had a feeling once. The thing was so expensive, he had to become a doctor just to deal with it. True story. )

This was precisely that call.Our patient lay on his back, slowly rocking side to side. He seemed to be struggling to open his eyes, and moaning occasionally.His BGL was a whopping "24" if I recall correctly.
My partner and I just sort of flowed into action. One of my favorite things about Fire and EMS, is that after you've done it a while, you develop this "knack" for working as a team. Whether it's deploying a hose line, or starting an IV, you know what your partner's going to do. He knows what you're going to do.  It just flows. No talking or explanations necessary.
It can be a thing of beauty, born of necessity.

This is the situation we found ourselves in. It is vital to point out here that the patient was NOT the person who called us. People in this "semi-concious" condition have a REALLY hard time using the phone. The caller, the patient's room-mate; stood by watching us as we worked.
Perhaps it was because of the silent fashion we worked, or maybe because we didn't communicate to him exactly what we were doing, and what was happening. I really don't know. But at that moment, the room-mate said something I don't think I'll forget for a long time.
"Ya'll need to hurry up! You need to give him some insulin!" The room-mate turned to the messy dresser top closest to the door, and rummaging through the clutter, produced first a syringe, and then a small insulin vial!

For those of you who may not be associated with the medical field or a diabetic patient, let me explain that this is precisely the OPPOSITE of what our patient needed. In fact, giving him insulin at this point would have solved all of his future diabetic issues.... Permanently.

As calmly as possible, I advised the now adamant and excited room-mate what we were doing, and what giving him any insulin would have most likely caused. I informed him that in the pre-hospital setting, insulin is NEVER a treatment option. As our patient began to come around, I considered what had transpired, and what could have been the outcome if the patient had been alone with his well meaning but misguided room-mate.

Isn't that just like us though? 
Have you ever prayed for God's deliverance, or intercession in your life, and then specified the way he should perform ?
 " God, I can't do this myself. Rescue Me, Lord!!" 
And then as he begins to work in our life...
" WHOA, WHOA WHOA!! NOT LIKE THAT!!"
I know I have.

 The bible clearly states that as far as the Sun is above the Earth (92,960,000 miles), so are His ways above our ways. It also tells us in Proverbs 3:5-6, that we should " Lean not on thine own understanding, but in all thy ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight ( simplify) thy paths."

I was talking with another firefighter, and a trusted friend of mine at the gym yesterday about this call, and it occurred to me how often I do the same thing with God that the room mate did with us. I acknowledge that a situation is beyond my capacity to deal with, I hand it to him, and then as soon as I let go of it, I'm standing over his shoulder while he works... instructing him on how it should be done.
Sounds foolish doesn't it? 

Just thought I'd share. I don't think you need me to "draw out" the lesson here. For those of you who are brothers and sisters in the field, it should be obvious. For those of us who are brothers and sisters in Christ, it should be even more so. God bless, and have a great Easter Weekend!!!!

All About Heroes

  01/30/12

  Tonight, I have just returned from assisting with the instruction of a basic firefighter class in a neighboring county, the topic of which was "hands on" primary search with an entrapped victim. This is something that is very close to the hearts of all firemen ... and most would say it's what we sign up for.
  In fact, if we are truly honest with ourselves; I believe that all firefighters begin this career in the hopes that one day they would become a hero. And maybe we're the kind of guys ( and gals) that need that. I don't mean to be disparaging. I don't think that necessarily means that firefighters are glory seekers, adrenaline "junkies", or reckless "hose monkeys". For me, It only means that I must aim my life at a greater good; something extraordinary, in order for it to have meaning.

 "Why do you want to be a hero?"  I have asked many rookies why they wanted to be firefighters, But I don't think I've explained my own reasoning to more than a few. While I was still a young man, I lost a cousin in a structure fire. Katrina (blackwood) Walker was only 13 when she died on July the 1st, 1991.
 In the early hours before dawn, she had woken to flames consuming her home. My Great Aunt Betty and uncle H- had made it safely to their agreed meeting spot, but Katrina wasn't there.
 Katrina had fled to the bathroom, stuffed a towel in the crack of the door and waited for help.She had been taught (correctly)  that this was the best thing to do if you couldn't get out of your house during a fire.
 Her home was less than a mile from a firestation... the response was direct and timely, the firefighters there did their ABSOLUTE best. It wasn't enough.
Katrina had an infectious smile.She had been born mostly deaf, but somehow she was still teaching herself to play guitar. She had a pet skunk. She was 13.

Katrina's incident has always been, and always will be; in my mind. It's something I carry with me out the door to every shift. I can't imagine what those firemen that were there felt... But the fear of feeling it?  Well... It makes me want to be a hero.
 


  Talking about "Heroes" tonight made me remember this story.
. I want to share it, because to me, heroes are not defined by the status their actions may bring them, but instead by what action they will willingly give themselves to... for the sake of another, seeking nothing in return. This one event created a lasting impression on me, and here for the first time in a long time; I saw what I think heroes truly look like.
   I've had to change the names, but I promise the story is true... I hope it blesses you.

6/10/11
"She's Gone."
Just moments ago, I received that simple text message. Two words, simple and expected, but devastating.
  " Jasmine", who would have been five years old in little more than a week, had finally lost her fight with Cancer. I had met Jasmine through my girlfriend, and at the beginning of our relationship, we took the picture you see above. She had met Jasmine and her family while volunteering at Duke University's Oncology department. She had helped the girl's family that day, and the picture above is from the simple dinner they prepared for us, their way of saying " Thank you."
  Despite the best efforts of the medical professionals, the child grew worse. I vividly remember the night the child's mother called, panic in her voice as she begged my girlfriend for help. We had to be on a plane at 4am the next morning, but still ( at my girlfriend's insistence) we drove to their house and picked them up, mother and child, so they would have a way to the emergency room. I have never felt so helpless as I did that night, listening to her whimper in the back seat, her tiny voice saying, over and over; " me duele, me duele." ( it hurts me, it hurts me) I asked later what it meant, but there was no need... somehow I already known..
Earlier today, my girlfriend rushed out of class to be with Jasmine and her family, stopping only long enough to pick up dinner for them. She called me on her way, and I was moved by the genuine concern I could hear in her voice as we talked. Mary ( the girls mother) had called her earlier in near panic, begging her to come. She had not been there long when I received the text.  " She's Gone."

My girlfriend didn't go because she had to, or because she would get some satisfaction from going. She didn't go because everyone would know what she had done. Until this post, only a very few knew the story. No one was watching, and there was no medal for her to carry away. She owed those people nothing, would profit nothing to suffer with them, but still she went.  Her motive was simple... Love. Not fleshly temporal love, but the love that each of us should nurture in our own hearts, love that seeks no self fulfillment, but is simply an echo of the Love shown us by Christ. This was heroism. This was Christianity, and this one event taught me more about Christianity than any of the time I spent in bible college.

  As firefighters we are blessed to be in a position of "helping", being there for those crisis moments when no one knows what to do.We assist those in desperate need, making sense of it all. This too, I believe; is very Christ-like. However, we are also very isolated from  the reality that exists outside of each "scene." When our work there is done, we go back to station, clean the gear, do the reports, and move on. This is our refuge. If we were unable to disconnect from the tragedies and trauma, I don't think our careers would last very long. We cope, we grow; distancing ourselves further from the pain, but perhaps also further away from our reason for being here in the first place. Maybe the callused, distant veteran doesn't even remember the "hero" he wanted to be.
 This one event however, was something I was forced to see in it's totality. I saw it up close and personal, and I learned what heroes really look like.

They don't always look like a "Rescue". The guys in Katrina's yard that night, dejected, exhausted... they were heroes. They don't always look like superman in a "10-10". Because to this firefighter heroes don't always look like the guy who saved a life, or put out the most fire.
Sometimes heroes look like people who didn't have to be there. People who couldn't change the outcome. But People who were there anyways, and gave it everything they had.