New! 08/06/09
The Doubting Paramedic
By Ginger S.
Roy Desoto stood at the sink for a long time letting the water rush from the faucet thinking of the sound. The constant hiss, the swishing in the sink bowl, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the sounds from the water rescue. The drainage ditch was full to the brim, overflowing even and the water rushed by like a raging river. Those teenagers did not have the presence of mind to know that when they started playing in the ditch at the first sign of rain that it could fill up so fast and sweep them precariously downstream into what would be a life or death struggle. The rescuers did not know that they would almost lose one of their own in that same battle against Mother Nature. Now Roy stood here contemplating his own actions. Did he do everything he could have to prevent the outcome? Did he somehow cause his friend and crew mate to now be on a respirator at Rampart fighting for his own survival? Reaching up slowly he placed his hands on the knobs ready to turn off the water, ready to turn off the memories, ready to let go of any doubts; but could he?
The water rushed down the drain and along with it the sounds that triggered the thoughts he was having, but not the guilt, survivor’s guilt he supposed. Roy Desoto’s conscious mind knew that he along with his partner were some of the best rescue men in the Los Angeles County Fire Department, but his subconscious always provided him with questions about how he handled a rescue gone bad.
He had somehow managed to get the teens out of the raging waters with the help of his crew mates, but then the unthinkable happened and one of the men in the water lost his footing and debris flowing downstream had impacted his safety line causing it to snap. Roy and the rest of Station 51’s A shift watched in horror as their comrade and friend washed away struggling to keep his head above the swiftly winning current. As he sat on the bench in the locker room Roy’s thoughts again drifted to the scene.
“Station 51 to dispatch,” Captain Stanley yelled into the HT.
“This is dispatch, go ahead 51.”
“We have a Code I at this location. We need back up. Man down in drainage ditch swept away by the current. Need a line downstream to try to catch him. Guess three miles out for first line. Need help fast!!!”
“10-4 51, do you have visual of your man?”
“Negative dispatch not at this time, but we will proceed in that direction to try to regain visual, 51 out.”
The tones could be heard through the HT and vehicle radios as the men of Engine 51 mounted their vehicles. Roy had gotten the teenagers delivered into their parent’s hands advising them to seek care at Rampart or with their personal physicians. The teens were not injured, but could have aspirated some pretty dirty water. He raced for the squad to assist in the search and rescue of his friend.
“Dispatch to 51.”
“51 go ahead dispatch,” Stanley responded into the engine’s radio.
“Two lines ready and waiting have you attained visual.”
“Negative.”
“10-4 51 will advise.”
The next few minutes were spent in anticipation as the crew of Engine 51 kept their eyes on the racing water. “Cap!” Mike Stoker said as he pointed to a figure holding on for dear life to something stuck in the middle of the current. It appeared to be a TV antenna, but it was so mangled no one could be sure. The one thing they were absolutely sure of is that their friend had somehow either grabbed on to it or was caught tangled in it.
“Engine 51 to Squad 51.”
“Squad 51.”
“We have a visual, what is your ETA to our location. We are about two miles up.”
“Right behind you Cap,” Roy said into the radio as he pulled the Squad in behind the Engine. All of the crew jumped out and began setting up ropes to the engine as Roy strapped on his lifebelt. Grabbing an extra belt from the compartment on the squad he stepped to the edge of the ditch to estimate the distance and current before tying off and sliding into the chilly water. They had positioned themselves some distance upstream so that they could ease out and downstream to their friend. As Roy approached he could see that his friend had actually gotten caught up in the debris that now could save his life, but clung to the antenna for dear life. Totally out of breath and coughing up water his friend did not speak to Roy when he finally was able to get to the stranded man, he simple made eye contact. That at least let Roy know that his friend was alert and coherent to his situation.
“Let’s get this belt on you and get you out of here,” Roy said in a soothing voice. His ‘victim’ simply nodded to Roy his understanding. He still could not talk for the gagging and coughing. “Slack,” Roy yelled to the men holding the ropes. Although the ropes were tied to the engine for security the amount that was let out to Roy was controlled by the men working the lines. As Roy reached around the man to secure the belt something holding his friend gave and the man slipped back into the rushing current. Roy had reached for the man unsuccessfully as he drifted out of sight.
“Station 51 to Station 36,” Captain Stanley barked into the HT. “Our man has slipped out of the debris and is heading your way, estimated 1 mile to your location moving fast. We will follow as soon as we get our team out of the water.”
“10-4 51,” the Captain of Station 36 acknowledged Stanley’s call.
Roy struggled to get back to the bank. The men of Station 51 scrambled to get the ropes untied and the gear stored in their vehicles so they could again go in pursuit of their crew mate.
Roy’s thoughts came again to the present as he heard someone’s bare feet padding into the locker room. He looked up to see the dark haired man standing beside him.
“Can’t sleep?”
“No. I just can’t figure out how he slipped away when I had him in my grasp,” Roy said shaking his head.
“You know you did everything you could to get him out.”
“Yeah, but maybe….”
“Roy don’t second guess yourself. Let go of the guilt trip you are going on. You did everything by the book. Nothing could have predicted that the debris would shift at that very moment. He will be alright. He just took in a lot of water and dirty water at that. Yes he may get pneumonia which is why they are giving his lungs a rest on the vent. You know the drill, antibiotics, the vent, ICU; it’s all standard procedure with a near drowning. Besides he is exhausted from the whole episode. He was already worn out from helping get those kids out.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Roy, I mean it, give up this doubt. You did a good job. You risked your own safety getting back in that water to get him out and you know that. You are one of the best; I know that because I am your partner. Chet knows that because he respects your ability. He knows you would never have let him slip from your grasp if you could have prevented it. Remember you go I go. That’s what firemen do. Chet knew the risks of getting in that water to help me get those kids out to you. He knew we would have safety catch lines downstream to get him out. He knew that. He knows that Roy,” Johnny grasped Roy’s shoulder to stress his point. “He knows Roy, and tomorrow he will probably be off the vent and trying to flirt with my nurses. Won’t do him any good though because he does not have the ‘Gage Charm’,” Johnny smiled at Roy teasingly.
“Okay Johnny and Thanks. I guess you are right. I did everything I could to get him out.”
“You know it Pally, you know it.”
The two men padded back into the dorm knowing that all would be right with the world. Chet Kelly was resting in Rampart today, but in a few days they would all be together again working side by side, trying to save the world, because that’s what firemen do.
Afraid
by Purry
I’m afraid!
Afraid to go to sleep. Afraid of what I might see. What my night time terrors
may reveal.
Weeks of sleepless nights haunted by my failures.
I don’t want to see smoky ghosts of the unsaved swirling around my turnouts
begging, know there is no hope; that their tomorrows have ceased.
My dreams tainted by flash backs of burnt flesh mingling with the sweet sweat of
life. Hearing screams fade and the breath seep from those lost to the flaming
beast.
I’m afraid!
Afraid of what I might see will blind me. Blind me of my purpose, life.
Strength
by E!lf
Stripped to his undershirt, Roy DeSoto stood at the sink. He reached for the faucets to turn on the water, but froze, staring down at his hands. Roy was a strong man. He had a strong back and strong arms, strong hands to pull people from the brink of death and strong shoulders to bear the weight of the world. A strong and gentle heart that ached within him.
The little girl's screams still rang in his ears. She had been so young and so tiny -- no more than five at best. Finding her alive in the twisted wreckage had been nothing short of a miracle. The two adults in the front seat never stood a chance, but against all odds the little girl lived.
She lived. But her back was broken. She was in excruciating pain and there was nothing Roy could do to relieve it. It was a situation he had dealt with before. In the case of a serious spinal injury the doctors needed the victim brought in with their senses undulled by painkillers. It helped with their assessment and could make the difference between complete paralysis and a full recovery.
Every time he found himself in a situation like that, it tore Roy to pieces. Pain and suffering were the enemy. When his victims hurt he hurt along with them. But never before had he found himself looking down into such a small face, knowing that she was in agony. She hurt and he could not stop it. And even if he tried to explain the reasons, he knew that she was far too young to understand.
Footsteps echoed in the brick and tile room. Roy raised his head and met his own haunted gaze in the mirror. His best friend and partner stood beside him now, back to the mirror, leaning on the sinks with his arms crossed over his chest.
"That was a rough one," Johnny said, his voice deep and solemn.
"Yeah. Yeah, it was."
"I just got off the phone with Rampart."
"Oh?"
"It didn't sever her spinal cord. They've got her immobilized now and she still has feeling in all extremities. And they've given her something for the pain. She's not hurting anymore."
"Good. Good." Roy's own voice was rough with emotion. Kind blue eyes swam with unshed tears.
"She's gonna walk again, Pally. And run and skip and jump rope and everything. I know it was rough, but it all worked out. She might not have understood today why you couldn't make the hurt stop, but she will when she dances at her senior prom, or walks down the aisle on her wedding day."
"I know. Too bad her folks couldn't be there too."
"Oh, I didn't tell you! It wasn't her parents in the car with her. It was the babysitter and her boyfriend. Her parents are fine. They're with her now."
Johnny was watching his friend. For the first time Roy turned slightly and met his eyes. "Good. I mean, it's good for the little girl, having her parents."
"Yeah. Listen, I'm gonna go see if there's any coffee. You coming?"
"Sure. I'll be there in a minute."
Johnny slapped Roy on the shoulder and left. Alone again, Roy turned back to the sink, turned on the faucets and splashed water on his face. He dried off and shrugged into a clean blue shirt, carefully pinning his badge and paramedic pin in place. Then he headed out to the kitchen and back to work.
He was a strong man, with a strong back and strong arms, strong hands to pull people from the brink of death. Strong shoulders to bear the weight of the world and a strong and gentle heart.