The start of My Paramedic book

Today I ran a suicide. A 41 year old man dove face first off a bridge. How very sad he must have been to be able to dive off a bridge. How much emptiness did he possess in his soul? Will somebody miss him or is he all alone. Maybe still trying to get over the death of someone else. Someone he loved. A child, a wife, or maybe a mother. He probably died on impact. Someone witnessed it to. What drove his life to this? Was he a father? Did he have a brother? He was someone's son. He is dead now I bet he already made it to the morgue. Who will tell his family? Did he have a family? Does it matter anymore at all? Who will make his funeral arrangements will they bury him or cremate him. Will they be able to afford it? Does it really matter the fact is he is dead.

This is the question I ask myself everyday working as a paramedic. It's supposed to be a heroic job. I mean saving lives. But do we really save anybody or do we scar ourselves. The wounded taking care of the wounded. Will i ever forget what I saw today. A man laying in a wash face down with blood draining from his head. The worst part is I wanted to see it. Does that make me morbid? Maybe but isn't everyone in this field.. My partner was just as interested. We tried to take pictures but who wants to see that. We do but we already did we were there. But the question I really want to know is did he see us? Maybe he was a ghost standing on the bridge watching us pull his broken body away from the water that potentially washed away his soul.

Being a paramedic is a busy job it's a long job its grueling and we miss meals and miss sleep and we miss our families. We spent hours sitting in parking lots and in hospital bays. I cant tell you have many times I hear everyday you are on bed delay. Can you imagine sitting in an er for 3 hours while your patient who has toe pain and whines and demands treatment. Oh the headache. Sometimes you just want to say shut up. But we cant cause we care and it is our job. But sometimes after you watch somebody die you don't care if someone stubbed there to last week. You want the day to end. Then it gets worse when you get that call 30 minutes before your off time and its for a trauma. You know your going far and you know it will be a mess. You also know you will pick up the pieces. But who will pick up your pieces when you potentially pass out of sleep deprivation. Just kidding. I only work 12 hour shifts.

Most the time I work with the same person everyday. Everyday for 12 hours in the cab of a van. Sometimes you get lucky and get a good partner. Other times you work with one of satan's demons. Will they drive to fast or to slow? Sometimes I wonder how I get there alive or get there at all. I try to have patience I don't have a lot but I try. But when I hear that same song on the radio for the fifth time cause its there favorite its takes everything not to scream or shoot them.

Tell me what you think of this as the start of a book