And this is the other side to me.
Sitting here, waiting for time to tick over until I head out the door to work.
Yes. Thats it. Night Shift. I have been doing this job since 1995. It is now 2014. That is a long time to do one job and when you know what it is I do, well….there are no words.
I probably have depression. I am certain I have PTSD. Anyway….
What has caused it?
It wasnt the day I went to the lady who murdered her kids. It was being hauled in front of management and being ‘reprimanded’ for insisting that no further resources be sent to the location. I didnt see any reason to expose any of my colleagues to that horror. Sadly, one of the colleagues (who was never officially trained in EMS – but apparently was a great hairdresser in her country….), well, that colleague thought she needed to see it and complained because I ‘limited’ her training and exposure. No, sweetheart, I didnt. I allowed you to sleep at night. I allowed you to hold your baby girl in your arms, and not see the bloodied lifeless face of the babygirl I see when I close my eyes at night.
It wasn’t the Infarct I got stuck in the lift with. It was having management ‘reprimand’ me for taking too long to return to service. The same management who never asked the reason for the delay. Nor did they inquire as to how I felt about being stuck in the lift. They dont know of the claustrophobia…..
It wasnt, in my first 6 weeks as a student, the man who died, on the road after headbutting a 4WD. Nor was it the fact that my experienced partner left me at the scene by myself and disappeared into the crowd, to magically reappear, half an hour later, at the hospital. It was the managers who loudly protested that the runaway partner did nothing wrong and I was never to mention the situation again.
It wasnt the 15yo car thief who stole the car and killed his siblings in it. It was the injustice with which my colleagues were treated as they were blamed for the incident – because they gave chase to a stolen vehicle – not knowing it was a bunch of kids in the car. These things are pretty hard to see, in the dead of night. It wasnt listening to the screams and anguish of the 15yo, with his head trapped between the headrest and the roof of the car, looking at the siblings he had just killed. Although, I must admit, I do hear those screams. I hear him screaming ‘You fucking pigs, you made me do this’.
This has been my life, since the mid ’90’s. I dont sleep. I cry a lot. Am I suicidal? No, I cant be, I have kids to look after. They are the only reason I go on. Without family, I have nothing.
It is….it is that they very very rarely, if ever, say ‘Hey, are you ok mate?’….or…’hey, you did a great job’….. yep. thats it…