mrFDNY
<font color=red>I'll be back mrFDNY. I have my ey
- Joined
- Jun 30, 2004
- Messages
- 3,215
hi all,
someone sent me this.i felt i should pass it on.
I wish you could know
I wish you could comprehend a wife's horror, at 3 in the morning, as I check her husband of 40 years for a pulse and find none. I start CPR anyway, hoping to bring him back, knowing intuitively it is too late, but wanting his wife and family to know that everything possible was done to try to save his life.
I wish you could know my thoughts as I respond to another 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 five-year old girl that I have been trying to save for the past 25 minutes, who will never go on her first date or again say the words, "I love you, Mommy."
I wish you could know the frustration I feel in the cab of the ambulance, my hand pressing, again and again, on the siren as you fail to yield the 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 know my thoughts as I help extricate a teenage girl from the remains of her automobile. "What if this were my sister, my girlfriend, or a friend? What would her parents' reaction be when they opened the door to find a police officer with hat in hand?"
I wish you could know how it feels to walk through the door and greet my family, not having the heart to tell them about my day.
I wish you could know how it feels to dispatch Paramedics and EMTs, how our heart drops when we call for them and no one answers, or to hear a bone-chilling 9-1-1 call from a child or a wife in need of assistance.
I wish you could feel the hurt when people verbally, and sometimes physically, abuse us or belittle what we do, or when they express their attitude of "It will never happen to me."
I wish you could realize the physical, emotional, and mental drain of missed meals, lost sleep, and relinquished social activities, in addition to all the tragedy my eyes have seen.
I wish you could know the bonds of brotherhood, the self-satisfaction of saving a life, being able to be there in times of crisis, or restoring order from chaos.
I wish you could understand what it feels like to have a little boy tugging at your arm and asking, "Is Mommy okay?" of not even being able to meet his eyes without tears in your own, not knowing what to say,
Or having to hold back a long time friend who watches as CPR is being performed on his buddy while they take him away in an ambulance. You knew all along he did not have his seat belt on, knowledge that becomes too familiar.
Unless you have lived this kind of life, you will never truly understand or appreciate who I am, who we are, or what our job really means to us...
I wish you could though.
someone sent me this.i felt i should pass it on.
I wish you could know
I wish you could comprehend a wife's horror, at 3 in the morning, as I check her husband of 40 years for a pulse and find none. I start CPR anyway, hoping to bring him back, knowing intuitively it is too late, but wanting his wife and family to know that everything possible was done to try to save his life.
I wish you could know my thoughts as I respond to another 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 five-year old girl that I have been trying to save for the past 25 minutes, who will never go on her first date or again say the words, "I love you, Mommy."
I wish you could know the frustration I feel in the cab of the ambulance, my hand pressing, again and again, on the siren as you fail to yield the 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 know my thoughts as I help extricate a teenage girl from the remains of her automobile. "What if this were my sister, my girlfriend, or a friend? What would her parents' reaction be when they opened the door to find a police officer with hat in hand?"
I wish you could know how it feels to walk through the door and greet my family, not having the heart to tell them about my day.
I wish you could know how it feels to dispatch Paramedics and EMTs, how our heart drops when we call for them and no one answers, or to hear a bone-chilling 9-1-1 call from a child or a wife in need of assistance.
I wish you could feel the hurt when people verbally, and sometimes physically, abuse us or belittle what we do, or when they express their attitude of "It will never happen to me."
I wish you could realize the physical, emotional, and mental drain of missed meals, lost sleep, and relinquished social activities, in addition to all the tragedy my eyes have seen.
I wish you could know the bonds of brotherhood, the self-satisfaction of saving a life, being able to be there in times of crisis, or restoring order from chaos.
I wish you could understand what it feels like to have a little boy tugging at your arm and asking, "Is Mommy okay?" of not even being able to meet his eyes without tears in your own, not knowing what to say,
Or having to hold back a long time friend who watches as CPR is being performed on his buddy while they take him away in an ambulance. You knew all along he did not have his seat belt on, knowledge that becomes too familiar.
Unless you have lived this kind of life, you will never truly understand or appreciate who I am, who we are, or what our job really means to us...
I wish you could though.
Yes, that was my 4am call a few weeks ago).
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are appreciated so much. Thank you, Thank you!
Thank you and to everyone else in this line of work. I can't imagine how you make it through everything that you see and experience every day.
Many of those thoughts are what I hear, or probably more honestly, feel, from our son, Vince. he does not talk about it too much, but I can feel it. One day, I did have a conversation with him, of his previous day. Included delivering a baby, losing an older gentleman to a heart attack. Joy and sadness, all in a day's work.
I would like to thank you and each and everyone who serves our communties in such a profound way 