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"I WISH YOU COULD"
I wish you could see the sadness of a business man as his livelihood
goes up in flames or that family returning home, only to find their
house and belongings damaged or destroyed.
I wish you could know what it is to search a burning bedroom for trapped
children, flames rolling above your head, your palms and knees burning
as you crawl, the floor sagging under your weight as the kitchen beneath
you burns.
I wish you could comprehend a wife's horror at 3 A.M. as I check her
husband of forty years for a pulse and find none. I start CPR anyway,
hoping against hope to bring him back, knowing intuitively it is too
late, but wanting his wife and family to know everything possible was
done.
I wish you could know the unique smell of burning insulation, the taste
of soot-filled mucus, the feeling of intense heat through your turnout
gear, the sound of flames crackling, and the eeriness of being able to
see absolutely nothing in dense smoke-- "sensations that I have becomed
too familiar with."
I wish you could understand how it feels to go to school in the morning
after having spent most of the night, hot and soaking wet at a multiple
alarm fire.
I wish you could read my mind as I respond to a building fire, "Is this
a false alarm or a working, breathing fire? How is the building
constructed? What hazards await me? Is anyone trapped?" or to an EMS
call, "What is wrong with the patient? Is it minor or life-threatening?
Is the caller really in distress or is he waiting for us with a 2x4 or a
gun?"
I wish you could be in the emergency room as the doctor pronounces dead
the beautiful little five-year old girl that I have been trying to save
during the past twenty-five minutes, who will never go on her first date
or say the words "I love you Mommy!" again.
I wish you could know the frustration I feel in the cab of the engine,
the driver with his foot pressing down hard on the pedal, my arm tugging
again and again at the air horn chain, as you fail to yield right-of-way
at an intersection or in traffic. When you need us, however, your first
comment upon our arrival will be, "It took you forever to get here!"
I wish you could read my thoughts as I help extricate a girl of teenage
years from the mangled remains of her automobile, "What if this were my
sister, my girlfriend, or a friend? What were her parents' reactions
going to be as they open the door to find a police officer, hat in
hand?"
I wish you could know how it feels to walk in the back door and greet my
parents and family, not having the heart to tell them that you nearly
did not come home from this last call.
I wish you could feel my hurt as people orally, and sometimes
physically, abuse us or belittle what I do, or as they express their
attitudes of, "It will never happen to me."
I wish you could realize the physical, emotional, and mental drain of
missed meals, lost sleep and forgone social activities, in addition to
all the tragedy my eyes have viewed.
I wish you could know the brotherhood and self-satisfaction of helping
save a life or preserving someone's property, of being there in times of
crisis, or creating order from total chaos.
I wish you could understand what it feels like to have a little boy
tugging on your arm and asking, "Is my mommy O.K.?" Not even being able
to look in his eyes without tears falling from your own and not knowing
what to say. Or to have hold back a longtime friend who watches his
buddy having rescue breathing done on him as they take him away in the
ambulance. You knowing all along he did not have his seat belt on --
sensations that have become too familiar.
Unless you have lived this kind of life, you will never truly understand
or appreciate who I am, what we are, or what our job really means to
us...
I WISH YOU COULD!
-author unknown
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