Welcome to Volume 2, Number 1 of the Handover, a blog carnival by and for EMS. I’m very proud to be hosting it here at Notes from Mosquito Hill this month. I’ve been participating since Kal hosted the carnival last July, and I count myself lucky to be among such exalted company.
Prehospital medicine is a passionate business in many ways. We often deal with people on the worst day of their lives, and emotions run high. This makes for interesting stories. Most of us don’t do it for the money, as we could often make a better salary in another field. (Some of us even do it for free.) We stay because of our own passion for the work.
Then there is that unique condition of the EMT or medic who blogs: the passionate story.
So without further ado, I bring you The Handover: Passion Edition.
Ben the Insomniac leads off with a post which combines two of life’s great passionate subjects, war and children.
Archie cries. Renee can do nothing to comfort him, but tries anyway. She sings to him, her voice broken by her fears. She smiles at him, the glint in her eyes betraying the tears that she tries to hide. She has nothing to offer other than her warmth, her touch, her love.
This is The Whistle.
Squeezy writes of her own passion.
After 3 years, day in, day out, she can only hope she is offered the best job in the world: a job as a paramedic.
This is Girl in Green.
CKEMTP writes of what the job has given him.
Thank you EMS for allowing me to see the power and passion in people going through the worst times in their lives… and in some cases the best ones.
This is Thank You, EMS.
Michael Morse brings us a snapshot to chill the heart of any parent.
The kids were no longer smiling. I think they sensed my trepidation.
This is Tiny Package.
Greg Friese sends a tale of a whole gaggle of passionate patients.
. . .they had already walked/run more than two full marathons, bicycled more than 65 miles, swam more than ten miles of cold whitewater, and kayaked nearly 50 miles.
Peter Canning sends a series of snapshots of parents and their love.
“He’s had a hard day,” his mother says. I can see the sadness and tiredness in her eyes, but there is no anger there, no hint of a breaking point.
This is I’ll Be at Your Side.
Justin Schorr, aka The Happy Medic tells of his own passion for his job.
Why do folks think I have an answer for why I love my job? I just do.
This is Why Do You Love Your Job?
Mark Glencourse, aka Medic999 sends along a post on dealing with the trauma we face.
I dont know whay this one has affected me so much. I know that it all goes down as experience, it will end up as another story shared with new colleagues, but it will also be another one stored away, but never forgotten.
This is Suicide.
EpiJunky submitted a beautiful example of the kind of passionate writing I love to see, and a wonderful example of the attachments we sometimes form with patients.
She managed to smile. “Don’t be sad, I’ll be okay.” I didn’t realize that I had tears running down my face.
This is A Fan of Her Life. It’s a two-parter; be sure to read them both.
For my own submission, I handed the blog and the theme over to Mrs. Mack505. To my delight (and relief?), she selected one of my top three candidates.
Her husband had seen to her every need, helping her to the bathroom and feeding her for as long as he could. Her degeneration had progressed to the point that he had to carry her upstairs to the toilet, yet he continued single-handedly.
This is Olive Oyl.
For those of you who may be new to Notes from Mosquito Hill, I would encourage you to dig deeply, or to try the EMS and CMTSU (Can’t Make This Stuff Up) tags. I’ve been posting a lot of photos lately, but the writing is all still here. It’s just spread out a bit.
Next month’s edition will be hosted by CKEMTP over at Life Under the Lights. His working theme is ‘Respect,’ and he has a big idea to go with it. I’ll let him tell you about it when he gets the post up.
Here’s hoping you enjoyed our spin on passion. Thanks for reading.
Mack505, in quarters and off the air.