A paramedic's paramedic

J was a paramedic's paramedic. Something un-describable... but everyone seems to understand what it means. I think everyone knows what I mean... people refer to a teacher's teacher, a doctor's doctor, a soldier's soldier. The epitome of the profession. For us, it's someone you always want on scene with you... they show up and you breathe a sigh of relief. Someone who is knowledgeable without being condescending. Someone you would trust to care for your child or your mother. They admit when they don't know something, but those instances seem few and far between. A sympathetic ear after a tough call or a sarcastic tongue to relieve a little tension. A lot of people out there can embody one or two excellent attributes that make a good medic. But few have it all. J did.

And I can say that freely, because I didn't always even like him that much. Once people are dead, their flaws are generally glossed over by those that loved them. Of course, I'm sure I'm doing a little of that... But I think I'm a little less biased than some or even most. J and I had that awkward relationship of people who once dated and had broken up. We didn't have a terrible breakup that made us hate each other, and we obviously liked each other a fair amount at one point. But we didn't see each other enough to become friends again so we just were stuck in that awkward stage. Plus the whole I've seen you naked thing. We could run calls together fairly easily. And I still trusted and respected him. But you know... awkward.

J was diagnosed with cancer not all that long ago. He was an incredibly determined guy and everyone rallied around him in his fight. His first day of chemo, Sensei and I actually had to transport him to the ED for a couple units of blood, a few rounds of morphine and zofran and some fluid resuscitation. I knew when I saw him that day that he wasn't going to survive his fight against the cancer. I told Sensei that I had to drive and I cried a good portion of the way from the infusion center to the ED. I never told anyone. (Although I think Sensei had some clue... he knows all.) And it's a good thing this blog is anonymous, because I would never want everyone to know about my pessimism. I just knew somehow...? Luckily for his family and friends, he lived several months longer... long enough to marry his fiancee and have another birthday. And to die on his own terms.

I'm not even 100% sure what the point of this post is. Just a remembrance of him I guess. He was the first one to teach me how to read EKGs. I think about that nostalgically even more now. I was a baby nurse and EMT when we dated. In nursing school, they barely gloss over cardiac rhythms (that flat one is bad right?). J sat me down and talked me through P waves and QRS complexes. I remember just being amazed how he could glance at a rhythm strip and know what it was without having to break out a ruler or count boxes. Guess what J? I can now too!

He gave great hugs. There's this random flash of a memory that sticks out in my head where what could/should've been a run-of-the-mill greeting turned into an awesome bear hug and me getting picked up off the ground and spun around. Why? No idea. I guess he was happy to see me. There are a couple restaurants in town that will be forever linked to him in my head. Places he worked, where we had our first date, favorite haunts...

Others can and have said words better than I can. A sample:

• "I am the medic I am today because of you." 

• "...a truly inspirational and great person... a friend, teacher and healer of many."

• "One of the biggest, warmest hearts that ever beat stopped too soon today."

• "You are such a major influence on who I am today. You watched over me when I became a brand new paramedic and we ran a countless number of calls together... I wanted to become you... and instead I had the honor of becoming your friend."

• "Our EMS family has lost a true friend and heaven has gained an angel... I will never forget your smile, your friendly attitude, your love for people and your willingness to teach."

• "There are so many people I work with daily... that you trained...that tell me you were their mentor. You are with me in spirit everyday... and your presence lives on... "

• "Let us reflect on the awesome person he was, celebrate all that he accomplished, and feel fortunate that we were able to call him a friend." 

• "You are dearly missed. You taught so much to so, saved so many from so much pain, & were a hell of a guy." 

We'll miss you J. Keep heaven under control.