The desire to share stories about calls is deeply rooted in most medics that I come across. I, evidently, am no different.

Dispatched pri 1 for the "machete fight" (at 9am on a Sunday), coming from across the city, no other trucks available. Ops supervisor on scene prior to our arrival. I pulled on the street and passed the victim, lying prone with the supervisor holding a trauma dressing on his back. My partner, with the door open before I put it in park says, "oh Ang, he's in a bad way."

Her first clue was the ever expanding pool of blood.....

We walk up and the supervisor-never the calmest tech in the world-rips off the trauma dressing to reveal a foot long laceration almost down to the bone. Patient transported, chatting with my partner during the clean up, when all of a sudden, it hits me,
"I know we're medics and all, but I feel we should have some more warning when someone is about to show us that kind of gore...."

Dispatched some priority for a rehab patient with headaches and general get-me-outta-here-itis.
Giving the cmed report to a secretary (isn't that a great idea?) and said the patient was in rehab status post fall and deteriorating. Three times this ever-increasingly angry secretary asked me if the patient sustained any injury from the fall. Three times I explained that the fall was not recent, I finally just hung up the mic. On arrival at the hospital the secretary pulls me aside to tell me that she was trying to get to the root of the problem, and that when the chief complaint is a fall, they expect a report of injuries. I did not explain to her the meaning of 'status post'. It bothers me to this day that I didn't.

The stories that I generally share always end with me feeling pretty uncomfortable actually; getting 'spoken to' by a secretary who doesn't understand the idea of being in rehab status post fall? Really?

I can do better.

The desire to share stories about a child is deeply rooted in most moms I come across. I, evidently, am no different.

My son is 21 months old. There is only one story that I can tell you that captures his personality perfectly.
At our local YMCA there is a program called Tumble and Play for toddlers. They open the gym up, set up all kinds of mats and big ramps, put out balls and hula-hoops and play music. It gives parents a little while to exhaust the children, while simultaneously feel like they are out of the house and with other adults. One day my little guy saw another child trip and fall and immediately begin crying. The mom knelt down and comforted the hysterical toddler. I turned my head for one second, and when I turned back, my son, this little boy with my knees, my round face, was attempting to become part of the embrace with this mother and her child. He had this look of concern on his face that I will never forget, as if he were saying to me, "Mom. Something here isn't right, I'm gonna see if I can do anything to help, ok?" My son, my whole world, my very reason for putting one foot in front of the other, HE is a true care provider.

Do you hope your children follow in your footsteps?