EPT“Bitches in the back looking righteous in a tight dress I think I might just, hit them with a little biggie 101, how to tote a gun....”
I bob my head and let my body seize to the beat of the music as I sip my coffee and go through my daily checks on the medic units, getting ready for the 48 hours ahead. My buddy walks into the bays where we keep all of our rigs, and I start to twerk while trying my hardest to keep eye contact with him. He laughs and says its too early to tease him like that, then goes and does his checks on the fire engines. As I continue with my morning routine of Biggie Smalls and caffeine, it is suddenly interrupted by our tone’s going off. “Station one, you are being dispatched to a Cardiac Arrest at *enter generic fucking address*, Patient is pulseless and not breathing, CPR is in progress.”
I instantly set down my coffee, jump in the rig I have already checked over and know it is ready for this and put ourselves in route. My partner jumps in and we fly off down the street. His job is to play DJ with the sirens and make sure people can audibly know to get the fuck out of our way as I swerve in between the retards that clog the streets. Finally we arrive at the address, grab all the equipment and head inside. I walk into the house yelling “fire department” and start to wander, then I come upon the room we are looking for. I know it is the right room by seeing a 12 year old girl performing weak compressions on a man screaming “DADDY WAKE UP, WAKE UP DADDY I NEED TO GO TO SCHOOL PLEASE WAKE UP.” I rush over and pull her off, assuring her we are here to help her dad and it would really help us if she went and brought us the biggest thing of water she could find. Of course we don’t give a fuck about how much water she brings back, but it gets her out of the room, and keeps her mind preoccupied with something other than her father dying in the next room.
The father was pale, eyes were grey, and he was stiff, in easier terms, he was fucking dead and no one could change that. Since we had no Do Not Resuscitate and the daughter was in the house, we work it anyways. I break the mans chest as my partner clears his airway. Rght as this is happening, I head the fire engine pull into the driveway and know that 3 more sets of hands are on there way in. Once they get in we continue in the normal road of treat mean, put a huge needle in the neck, needle in the tibia, tube down the throat, shock pads on the chest. The whole time I am doing compression on this mans chest, and his daughter is hitting me on my back screaming “ MY DADDY WAS AWAKE LAST NIGHT. WAKE MY DADDY UP I NEED TO GO TO SCHOOL, PLEASE WAKE UP DADDY” As tears are streaming down her face.
Dead people haven't bothered me, Finding a dead 3 month old fucked me up for a bit, but it was dead, apparently it was from SIDS and didn't suffer, so I never had to deal with that. What has fucked me up is the survivors. This little girl was losing her everything, who gives a fuck about the dad, he was dead, he didn’t give a shit about that because he was dead. I watched this 12 year old girl lose her world. She lost the person she always looked to for protection, she lost the smartest person she knew, the person who helped her with her homework to get good grades. As I watched the life drain out of her eyes, I knew it was time to call it on her father. We pronounced him dead, and I hugged the little girl explaining to her what happened. I sat with her for 3 hours until we could take her and her father to the hospital. I told her she would not have to be alone in the future, but apparently I lied. The nurse said she would give my phone number to her and I headed back to our district. I saw the girl the other day, she hated me for killing her dad and lying to her about being alone.
