It’s not so much about the stuff you see as it is about the moments that you’re a part of. EMS is not about being a silent witness to things happening outside of you, it is about being a participant in the struggle between life and death.
Entering the profession is almost always a heart-driven proposition: “I want to help!” Once you’re in it, the culture of (Western) medicine as a whole moves you up and up into your head until, after a while, you forget what a heart-based experience feels like.
What you get taught is how to remove, distance, insulate, joke around, self-medicate, avoid, deny and dull the pain of being a very real human being exposed to relentless suffering. The relentless suffering is more about the day-to-day pain that many people experience in just being alive rather than the suffering over an isolated, hugely traumatic incident.
Winston Churchill said, “When you’re going through hell, keep going!” There’s probably no better description of what it takes to be proficient at the work. In fact, there’s a “tipping-point” that happens in the midst of any serious call that puts you in the position of having to, in a sense, leave your body and emotions behind so you can get through the situation and render the care you’re supposed to.
This is a skill that we all develop over time. You will, too. My prayer for you is that responses will come to this thread that will guide you in actually “dealing with” the trauma you are exposed to, rather than guiding you into a closet that only offers thicker and thicker layers of protection and insulation to heap on your heart. After a while, the layers get so thick you can’t even hear your own heart beat anymore.
That’s where, for the most part, the system fails us. A businessman goes out there and blows a major project. He/she goes home and, turning to a spouse, business partner or mentor processes the experience so it is assimilated into a larger life. EMS, as a whole, promotes compartmentalization to the extent that, once a call is over – even though it may be reverberating in you for years to come – you are taught to “move on!”
But “moving on” does not mean integrating what you’ve seen into your larger life. After a while, given exposure to enough traumas without assimilation of the experiences, you gather enough excess baggage to hobble you in many other areas of your life. Assimilation produces wisdom and fosters compassion.
The way things are set up; we are a vast minority of specialists who carry the burden of the sick and injured so the rest of society doesn’t have to. We are asked to develop coping skills way, way beyond the capabilities of most of the people who are in our lives. And these skills we must develop AFTER the call has passed.
The sad part of the story is that we are almost exclusively taught how to “get through” our experiences when what we need are guides to help us “move through” what we have experienced. There’s a very crucial bottleneck there that affects ALL areas of our lives.
The great part of the story is that here, in this forum, there are all shades of experience to tap into. I’m asking future participants in this thread to really look at what this guy is asking. Share with him how you really do “deal with” the things you see and integrate them into your larger life.
Epi-do said, “Generally speaking, most runs don't really get to me, but I am fortunate to have a great support system, both at work and at home. Alot of times, after a bad run, it is the topic of conversation around the firehouse for the next few hours, if not the rest of the shift.” This leads one to suspect he’s (forgive me if I mis-interpret gender, y’all!) setting the scene for a more comprehensive process of assimilation.
But listen, really listen to what he goes on to say: “It starts out as just going over what happened, and what could have been done differently, but eventually the dark humor starts to come out and everyone begins to destress.”
De-stressing is a crucial part of the process of assimilation. But it is only one part of dealing with the distress that one has experienced. Please, share with us, too, how you’ve turned your traumatic experiences in the field into things that have made you more effective as both a medic, AND a human being, so we can all learn.