And I can be had by PM or plain old e-mail, too.
Me, too.
I’m a critical incident debriefer with the SF Bay Area CISM Team… just wanted to acknowledge that this incident did indeed suck and it is totally natural that sometimes an response that is critical for one person isn’t so hard for the others. The thing that struck me most was that you were handed a lot more responsibility than the other responders; that makes it different and often harder. There may be other reasons this hit you hard, but just what you wrote seems like reason enough. Sounds like you knew from the start that you were helpless to resuscitate the victim. That’s hard.
I’m impressed with the responses here. It’s cool how people generally just acknowledged that the incident was bad for you, but didn’t try to fix it or fix you. There isn’t anything anybody can do to make it better, but it seems like you’re getting some support here and it’s always good to hear someone say that they have a good support network of friends and family. In the end, that’s what makes the big difference.
As for drinking, it is the most natural thing in the world to have a stronger than usual desire to drink after something like this. It doesn’t mean you are headed for a problem. The people who end up with a problem often are those who don’t talk about it, don’t acknowledge how hard it was and don’t have the support network - the people who imagine they can just “suck it up” or “get over it.” When a call really hits us, getting over it isn’t an option. You just figure out how to live with it, changed forever to some degree.
I have a lot of doubts about the wisdom and usefulness of what amounts to debriefing on-line. I don’t think it will ever be a replacement for face-to-face debriefings. But when I see people respond the way they have here, I think it can do a lot of good.
How’ve you been since it happened? What’s different and what’s working for you?
FYI, I added a link to this thread to our blog at http://criticalincident.net
Nick
So far, the atmosphere is different at work. Pretty much my entire department (the EMT is part of the Security department where I work, and it was Security officers that were the first ones up there with me) was involved with that call, from grabbing medical supplies for me to attaching the AED or listening to all the commotion on the radio and trying to dispatch the right people to help us. I think this hit our dispatchers at least as hard as anyone else, because they could only hear the incident on the radio and couldn’t help once their part was done. There was a bigger element of uncertainty for them. We don’t talk about anything other than what happened up there, and the talk is pretty much entirely brainstorming theories about why he did it, whether he REALLY meant to or if it was just an accident. None of us wants to think that he got what he wanted.
I was the only EMT in the building for the first 10-15 minutes or so, so naturally they were looking to me to tell them what to do. In hindsight, I’m not really angry at how long everything took, and I’m certainly not angry at the fire department and ambulance crew like I implied in the first post. I think I was angry at the kid, for hurting so many people. Before any of us even knew anything was wrong, his father saw him hanging, and started screaming. He screamed the entire time until the police got there and he finally got a chance to just talk and cry with someone. There was just too much happening all at once, and we were more concerned with keeping him away from where we were working. He was their only child from what I understand, but I didn’t spend too much time with the family at all. That job fell on another person in my department, and I guarantee speaking with them and trying to explain what happened was at least as terrible as what I went through.
My drinking comment was probably the most idiotic thing I’ve ever posted, and that’s saying a lot. I had a couple of stiff drinks before I posted it, but I think my body was just craving a distraction. Drinking didn’t feel any better at all. After I made the original post all the physical stress caught up to me at once and I just shut down, crashed into bed stone cold asleep and didn’t even move for almost 9 hours. Looking back, I’m surprised I didn’t dream about it, or lay awake tossing and turning. I guess I didn’t have the strength for it anymore.
Nobody besides me needs to ask what this has to do with robots?
The AED (which has pretty much replaced the shock paddles famous on TV) is a completely automated machine that will measure a fucked-up heart rhythm and shock it at a precise time, hopefully fixing whatever caused bad rhythm. It constantly updates its status in a robot-like voice, and it will not shock someone who’s heart has completely stopped. There’s nothing left to shock, in that situation. It’s actually kind of ridiculous how whenever they use the paddles on TV, it’s to fix a “flat line” asystole, but that’s the exact opposite of what actually works. The shock is meant to temporarily STOP your heart, so it hopefully regains a healthy rhythm when it restarts. The shock will never restart a heart that has stopped beating.
Huh, didn’t know that.
Thanks for the thread, Mosier.
You hit the nail on the head in terms of dispatchers. I never appreciated their stress when I was on the street, but now that I’m involved in CISM, I realize that it is an extraordinarily stressful job in several ways.
Being angry at the guy who caused this is a totally natural reaction, though sometimes it can take a while to realize you feel that way. I didn’t really acknowledge how thoroughly pissed off I was - am - at drunk drivers, especially when I ended up making triage decisions, until about 20 years after my last major incident. We didn’t have CISM then… but I get to be a poster boy for “It’s never too late for a debriefing.”
Seeing the father in that state must have been awful.
“Too much happening at once” is by itself very hard - when there is too much happening, then by definition things are out of control. By talking through it and writing about it here, I hope you are getting some sense of control back. You’re giving yourself the chance to decide how to live with the whole thing, which is the best way to take care of yourself.
You are surely right that dealing with the family was as hard as what you went through. It is never good to make comparisons about this kind of thing; it is all very hard. It all sucks.
Good for you that you slept! Aside from the physical exertion of doing CPR for a long time, the stress of an incident like this is exhausting. You’re already on high adrenaline because you’re responding to an emergency, your senses are wide open because that’s your job, but that means you are taking in a lot of difficult stuff, which feeds into the adrenalin response. As our team constantly reminds itself and others, be gentle with yourself. You have been through something very tough.
I would strongly encourage you to consider arranging a group debriefing for everybody who responded. Doing it as a group usually is a great help to everyone. There’s some Nevada CISM team info here:
http://dop.nv.gov/CISM%20Contacts%202005.pdf
Looks like it might be somewhat out of date, but I expect you can find what you need. Trust me on this - they will be very happy to lead a debriefing for you, as an individual, or ideally, for everyone who responded. People who are part of these teams do it because they know how hard it can be and they know how helpful debriefings usually are.
And that is also an entirely normal reaction to suicide (I assume this was such from your description). My sister killed herself 20 years ago, I am still angry at her for doing that. I am also sad, upset, and a lot of other emotions at the same time. It’s a very hard thing to deal with. Again, thank you for doing this sort of work. Now go take care of yourself. If you don’t take care of yourself you can’t take care of anyone else.
Good that you slept. Yes, alcohol is a depressant, thus it doesn’t make you feel better.
From this, I think you’re on the road to recovery, you’ve made some great first steps*. Do accept whatever counseling resources they offer. See if they will do as NickArnett sez, do a debriefing or similar, at least.
Next time I am out in Vegas, I’ll PM you. The best buffet in town is on me.
It’s okay. I think we all make jokey comments about drinking heavily. My partner and I would often remark about how it was too bad we couldn’t get rum in our Slurpees after a particularly difficult call. One guy I worked with always quoted Airplane… “Boy, I picked the wrong day to stop sniffing glue…”
Those in EMS tend to develop a dark sense of humor, which I think helps. Bad things happen, but you deal with it the best that you can.
And yes, you’d think the stress would make you lose sleep, but sometimes it can make you sleep a heavy dreamless sleep. It’s like your mind and body know you just need to crash for a good long time.
Changing the subject momentarily to inject a bit of humor, I found a T-shirt online last night that I. Must. Have.
The caption: “EMS - The last people you see in life may shock you.”
I’m so glad to read you’re feeling better. I’m with you on the exhaustion - I had a similar situation happen to me about 25 years ago while on vacation in the Bahamas. I was there with my boyfriend for a diving holiday. We were sitting at the pool when one of the older ladies that worked for the hotel began wailing - her 6-year-old grandson was at the bottom of the pool. My boyfriend and I were nearest, and we jumped in and pulled him out. I had just gotten my NAUI diver certification that spring, and part of it was a CPR course. I started on him, and I was joined by another guy that happened to hear the commotion. Fortunately, he was an EMT. We worked on that kid through the 45 minutes it took for the ambulance to show up (the celebrated “Island Time” ain’t a joke), with just a hotel towel to wipe away the vomit the kid spewed - and he had had a big meal! We knew he was gone, but neither of us was willing to give up. The EMT team kept up our efforts as the loaded him into the ambulance. After they took the boy to the hospital, we had a beer and became fast friends with the EMT, which was the only good part of the story. That night I did the same as you - collapsed and slept like the dead. To this day I can still see that kid’s face and hear his grandmothers eerie wailing like it was only yesterday.
Good on you, Mosier.
It’s said that those “LA COUNTY CORONER” souvenier T-shirts wearers are not welcome by management in LV casinos?