Decompression

This is not an easy job, for all the reasons I'm sure you've heard or can imagine and then some. I can't imagine doing it without the support of my family. From the time and effort put into training and traveling to take every test I could afford to reach to the heartache of constant rejection and struggling to achieve something I knew I wanted so much. But, having achieved my goal of joining the fire service, now more than anything it is having a place to go when things go bad on the job that, I believe, can make or break a fireman.

I responded to a call for a female, I'll say girl because that's the way I remember it although I can't recall her age, experiencing a miscarriage. I was on a crew with another medic but I was the lead medic on this call so I was the patient person. When we arrived we were led to the bedroom where the girl sat on a mattress on the floor bleeding. It was dark in the room and as I moved to examine her I could already see the umbilical cord. Worse, I could see something at the other end of the cord. This girl was only 18 weeks pregnant and with a baby that young there is nothing at all we can do. There would not be any attempt made at resuscitation. It was too late for that anyway. I used my pen light to examine the baby and found it to be surprisingly well formed and more identifiable than I would've expected. It didn't seem like a fetus, though that's what it was. It seemed like a miniature baby. I remember not knowing what to say and that it was so quiet in the room. Everyone just knew and accepted it. Not accepted it in the sense that they were okay with it but in the sense that they knew it was a time to mourn and be respectful.

The girl still had to be transported to the hospital as the placenta had not delivered and she needed further care. I asked the firefighter to get me an emesis basin from the rig while I wrapped the baby in gauze. When he returned I placed the baby in the basin, a beige square bucket about 10" by 10". This seemed so wrong to me, but it was really the best and only way to do what needed to be done. i tried to pad the basin and make it more like a bed than a receptacle but it still didn't feel right. The girl's bleeding had stopped and it was really just a matter of getting them to the hospital and consoling her now, though there was really nothing to say. The ambulance arrived and they all left silently.

When we returned to the station the captain asked us if we were okay and if we needed anything, like a stress debriefing. We both declined and said we were alright. I thought I was alright at the time too, sad but okay. This certainly is a part of my job. But it was a call and an image I couldn't shake. I couldn't help but think about it over and over again for the rest of the shift.

By the time I left work, I was just down. It was a weekend day when I drove home so everyone was home when I got there, my wife and all the kids. I didn't say anything and went about my normal routine when I got home. I was definitely affected and although I didn't realize it, I was projecting. My wife didn't get exactly what was going on but she could sense it. In fact, she started to get upset with me, saying, "God, you just got home and you're just thoroughly depressing." This is where it was vitally important to be honest and communicate. I could've gotten upset right back or ignored it but I didn't want to. I told her I had a really bad call last night and I couldn't shake it. I told her what had happened and she asked me what I wanted to do. I told her I just wanted to go out and have a day with the kids. We all loaded up in the van and went out to a park near the lake, had a picnic, played on the swings, and walked around the lake.

It was perfect. It literally made all the difference. I relaxed, I let it go, I enjoyed my family and my life. I believe that kind of outlet is essential to anyone in this type of work. Any type of work really. I don't know where I would be without it.

I will still never forget that call or that image, but it has softened considerably. I struggled to remember the details of the call as I wrote this; did I cut the cord?, what did the girl look like?, did she say anything? I don't remember. Those moments are awful. Those moments are heartbreaking. But, I'm glad to be the one to help those going through it. And I'm thankful for those in my life who help me move past it, re-energize, and go back each day to face it again.