I was pretty lucky, I guess. When I started it was me, two partners, an ambulance, a house and a town of about 15,000. On the coast of Florida it was a sleepy, seaside community, mostly retired, loaded with Nursing Homes. Us three manned the station 24/7 and we were completely integrated into the fabric of the town and its people.
At first, as an EMT, I made the connections. And then, as one of the first Golden Boy Paramedics we became town heroes...but it wasn't because we were Master Protectors, it was because we bled with the people as well.
So, yes, I had the privilege to have my heart ripped apart many times there. In service to the individuals in "my" town, I jeopardized my career by putting my ambulance out of service (more than once) so the family could have an hour or so with their recently deceased relative (and I, for support, with them), before I moved the body to the funeral home.
But the one that got me writing was I remember me and my partners were pallbearers at a funeral for one of our patients, an old cardiac-emphysemic cripple who was IFT personified for years. His wife had no one to help, so we did.
And now, I have to honor the 15 year old boy who, wracked with cardiac cancer for a year, I transported many many a time locally and on LD's to teaching hospitals. On the eve of his death, we maintained a vigil in the ER, waiting for his family at home to call so WE would be the ones to take him to the funeral home.
I'm crying as I write this, as I allowed myself to do at the time.
My prayer is that you, too, will have glorious moments like this.
Love the time you've been given...
Once, during my life, I knew what it was like to be a Country Doctor.