Category: mental-health

  • Broken Pieces

    My journey with PTSD has been a long and tiring one, but it’s a path I’ve walked with the guidance of faith and Jesus. The struggles have been real, but so has the comfort and strength I’ve found in my beliefs.

    For me, coping with PTSD has meant leaning on my faith and finding comfort in the teachings of Jesus. It’s not always been easy, but it’s a journey I’m grateful to be on.

    Through my experiences, I’ve learned that I’m not alone in this struggle. Many others have walked this path and found hope and healing.

    Faith can be a Powerful Tool

    • Faith can be a powerful tool in coping with PTSD.
    • Personal experiences can shape our understanding of faith and resilience.
    • Coping mechanisms are crucial in managing PTSD struggles.
    • Finding comfort in faith can lead to healing and hope.
    • Resilience is built through perseverance and support.

    My Battle with PTSD Begins

    As I reflect on my journey, I realize that my battle with PTSD began with a series of traumatic events that changed my life forever. I have left work before and cried so hard that I couldn’t see to drive. I even went and left my house to go to a bingo game, with a bunch of elderly folks to try and clear my mind. It didn’t work, I just left and cried, and prayed, and truly thought my life would never be the same. I didn’t want to ever go back to work again. I didn’t want to close my eyes because I didn’t want to see the vision of what I had just saw again. These experiences not only affected my mental health but also tested my faith and resilience. I was mad, and angry at God, and I felt less of a person for being mad at Him. How could I be so mad, and angry at the one that I loved, trusted, that loved me enough to die for me?

    The Traumatic Events That Changed Everything

    The traumatic events I endured were life-altering, leaving A terrible mark on my heart and soul. The memories of those moments still linger, a constant reminder of the struggles I’ve faced. My heart has wounds that I don’t know will ever heal.


    That was the moment my life was forever divided into “before” and “after.”

    It was as if time had stood still, and everything that followed was a struggle to regain what was lost. Laughing, crying, even hearing a joke—it all felt wrong. We were pulling the remnants of a child’s life from a destroyed vehicle: schoolwork, a little girl’s purse, a coloring page she had made for her mom. Her name was written in crayon inside a black-and-white composition book. We grasped at these small things, trying to gather whatever we could so her mom would have something left.

    With every piece of evidence we retrieved, another piece of my heart broke.

    I had to be strong. I couldn’t show my pain or my emotions. We had to bring these belongings to her mother, who was still in the hospital. There was no time to be upset—I had to brush it off and keep moving. We placed everything in a black garbage bag. Even a single house shoe, soaked from the rain, felt like a dagger to my heart.

    How could this have happened? Why her? Why an innocent child taken so soon?

    So many thoughts rushed through my mind as I imagined how her day must have gone before the accident. I couldn’t understand it. I didn’t have time to process it. I still had a shift to finish. I told myself I’d try to deal with it later, but I felt sick—nauseous and angry. Everything around me felt like it was moving in slow motion.

    I’ve seen people die. I’ve watched them take their last breath. I’ve even pronounced loved ones dead before. But this… this was different.

    My heart physically hurt in my chest. My whole life felt like it would never be the same.

    Texts and calls from coworkers only made it worse. I know they meant well, but nothing anyone could say would make it better. Truthfully, I just wanted to be left alone to deal with it my own way. My mind was like a shattered puzzle. Even if I tried to put it back together, some pieces were missing. And if my heart, soul, and mind were a puzzle—there would never be a piece that fit the hole this left behind.

    This was a turning point for me.

    I already had PTSD from COVID and other calls I’d been on, but nothing had ever felt like this. Maybe it was because the patient was a child. Maybe it was because I had let my guard down. Or maybe the devil was playing on my weakness. But I was broken.

    I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone.

    The only thing I can compare it to is the moment someone realizes they are dying—and they know it. I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing her face, hearing the sounds, or remembering the scene. I’ll never forget the looks on the firefighters’ faces—men I’d worked with for years. We all wore the same blank stares. The air itself felt different, like something in all of us had changed.

    There was nothing any of us could have done.

    But it was the definition of tragedy.


    When the Symptoms First Appeared

    Photo by Du01b0u01a1ng Nhu00e2n on Pexels.com

    The symptoms of PTSD didn’t show up all at once.
    They crept in gradually, like a shadow that slowly swallowed my life.

    At first, it was just a constant sense of anxiety—hypervigilance that never let up. But it didn’t stop there. It grew into something deeper, heavier—something that paralyzed me emotionally. I couldn’t talk about it with anyone. No one could truly understand.

    I remember walking into my grandma’s house, where my mom was sitting, and I just lost it. I broke down crying—so hard it didn’t even feel like crying. It was more like gasping for air, grasping at something to hold onto in a storm I couldn’t escape. I wanted to explain what I was feeling, but how could I? There weren’t words for it.

    My mom tried to be empathetic. She told me I did all I could do. But that wasn’t the issue.
    The issue was that I saw it. I was there.
    There was no filter, no way to block out the images burned into my mind. I hated blinking. I hated closing my eyes, even for a second—because the scene would come flooding back.

    Worse, I still had to drive past the place where it happened.
    Every time I went through my hometown, I’d pass that spot.
    And I hate to admit this, but sometimes, I pulled over. I stopped, just to look. Just to see if there was anything—anything—left behind that I could salvage for her family.
    I know it might not make sense, but in my mind, if I could’ve found something—anything—it might have brought me a tiny bit of closure.

    But instead, I saw the road markings.
    The orange spray paint the officers used to mark the impact points. Those marks felt like fresh wounds every time. Another dagger to my already shattered heart.

    I kept trying to figure it out.
    What went wrong? What happened in that moment?

    No one really understood why it affected me so deeply.
    After all, it’s what I signed up for… right?


    The daily struggles of PTSD were overwhelming.
    Simple tasks became daunting challenges. The world around me felt chaotic—loud, fast, and unforgiving.

    I remember being in church the Sunday after the accident. Everything felt too much. The noise, the crowd, even the music—it was all so loud. Then I saw her.

    A woman sitting in front of me was holding her little girl. Such an innocent, tender moment—but to me, it felt like a nightmare. In that moment, I saw her again.
    The little girl we lost. And all I could think was, I bet her mom would give anything to hold her again. But she can’t.

    That thought consumed me, and suddenly, I was angry.
    I rushed to the restroom, desperate to calm down. I held a cold, wet cloth to my face and chest, trying to stop the welts from forming, trying to slow my breathing. Panic had taken over.

    But I couldn’t stay in the bathroom. I had to go back out. My own children were waiting, and I still had to drive us all home.
    So, I did what I’d been doing since that day. I sucked it up.

    It was a constant battle—to find peace, to feel normal again, to find comfort in the midst of turmoil.
    But how?


    The Darkest Valley

    I found myself in the darkest valley of my life. The memories and flashbacks were relentless, making everyday tasks a significant challenge. Sleep was the worst, or lack of. No one would ever have guessed that when I laid down at night, sometimes I wouldn’t go to sleep, until the sun was starting to come up. I didn’t want to ever re-live that scene. i wish it had been as easy to do though as realizing what i needed to do, and actually doing it. I had to keep my mind busy.

    Hitting Rock Bottom

    It was an overwhelming experience, and there came a point when traditional coping methods failed me. I felt lost and without direction. i kept working, i even worked extra shifts, and with every tone that came out, i hoped it wouldn’t be that call that would do me in for good. i had to still play the part, i had to still be the mom, and wife that i had been prior to the accident, and i was tired. i felt like i was in a hamster wheel that was spinning, with no way to get off. everyday felt like i was a robot going through the motions.

    When Traditional Coping Methods Failed

    I tried various techniques to manage my symptoms, but nothing seemed to work for long. The failure of these methods left me feeling hopeless. Some of the methods I tried included:

    • Seeking support from EMS friends and family, which I was limited on what I said, but I tried to vent.
    • Engaging in physical activities, cleaning the house , rearranging furniture, organizing my pantry.

    The Isolation of Trauma

    The trauma I experienced led to a deep sense of isolation. i could be in a room full of folks, and still feel alone. our place of employment actually had us go talk to a grievance Counselor before we ever returned to work, after that call, but unfortunately, i felt like talking to her, had to be filtered, because i don’t know if she had really had much experience in this Sort of trauma. i know they hear A lot of messed up stories, and situations, but i don’t know if it could truly be Comprehended, without having experienced it, or without having worked in emergency medicine.

    Feeling Misunderstood and Alone

    It was as if no one could truly understand what I was going through. This feeling of being alone was one of the darkest aspects of my journey. However, it was during this time that I began to turn to faith in challenging times and found Jesus as my source of comfort.

    In the midst of this darkness, I found peace with my faith. It became a glimpse of hope, guiding me through the valley.

    I never expected to ever be able to get it out of my mind, but that’s exactly what happened.

    Faith and Jesus Are My Reason for Making It Through My Struggles with PTSD

    As I navigated the complications of PTSD, it was my faith and connection with Jesus that served as my guiding light. This journey wasn’t easy, but with faith, I found the strength to face each day. i begin to not feel like i was in a war, or that my mind wasn’t a battlefield. sure, i had days that were hard, or something would make me think about it, but it didn’t consume me.

    The Moment Everything Changed

    The turning point came when I realized that I wasn’t alone in my struggles. It was during a particularly difficult moment that I felt an overwhelming sense of peace, a feeling that I now attribute to my faith in Jesus. i felt like He told me it was okay, to let it go, or it was okay to not be okay, and that i could get through it. the one popular verse that we hear from the time we are little, ” I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13. I realized that He could get me Through it. I wouldn’t ever get myself Through it, and I begin to have the thought that He allowed me to be there, because he knew that He would show me, that my strength comes from Him alone.

    Finding Hope When It Seemed Impossible

    hope seemed like a distant memory. Yet, it was in those moments that my faith was tested and strengthened. I began to see that even in the darkest times, there was always a glimmer of hope, a light that guided me forward. He was the light, He is the Light, and there is no darkness in Him. Nothing could have been as tragic as Him being nailed to a cross, beat, and whipped with thorns on his head. He was misunderstood, His mission, and His plan to save us all. They didn’t believe him, and they couldn’t understand him. He must have felt alone, he must have been angry, and I could now see that the feelings I felt, was a reminder that his trauma, and his tragedy was for a cause. He was saving us, but who saved him?

    Jesus as My Constant Companion

    One of the most comforting aspects of my faith has been the realization that Jesus is always with me. This companionship has been a source of strength and comfort, reminding me that I’m never alone in my struggles.

    Never Walking Through the Darkness Alone

    With Jesus by my side, I feel a sense of companionship all the time. This feeling was summarized in a powerful realization: “I am not alone; Jesus walks with me through the darkness.” It was a reminder that even in the most isolating moments of PTSD, He is always with me.

    My journey with PTSD is ongoing, but with faith and Jesus as my foundation, I feel more equipped to handle the challenges that come my way. Key aspects of my faith-based healing include:

    • Prayer as a means of coping with anxiety and flashbacks. I pray all day. I never say AMEN, because I talk to Him, like a run on sentence, with no end. I pause, but as I go about my everyday, I know he’s always there. I know I can just pick up where I left off, when I am talking to him.
    • Embracing Jesus’s example of enduring suffering with compassion and strength

    These elements have not only provided me with comfort but have also given me the motivation to continue on my path towards healing. Whether I ever heal completely or not is questionable, but in my weakness, he makes me strong.

    Finding Strength in Faith During Challenging Times

    Through my struggles with PTSD, I’ve found comfort in the teachings of the Bible. The journey hasn’t been easy, but faith has been a crucial element in my recovery.

    Biblical Teachings That Resonated with My Pain

    The Bible contains numerous accounts of individuals who faced immense suffering and hardship, yet found strength in their faith. One teaching that resonated deeply with me is found in Psalm 34:18, which says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” This verse reminded me that I am not alone in my pain.

    Scriptures That Became My Lifeline

    Certain scriptures became my lifeline during the darkest moments. For instance,

    “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff comfort me” (Psalm 23:4)

    a sense of peace and reassurance that God Is with me.

    Jesus’s Example of Enduring Suffering

    Jesus’s own experience of suffering on the cross is a powerful example of enduring pain with faith. His willingness to bear the weight of our sins teaches us about the redemptive power of suffering.

    Learning That Pain Has Purpose

    Embracing faith has not eliminated my struggles with PTSD, but it has given me the strength to face them with hope.

    Prayer as My Lifeline for Coping with PTSD

    Prayer has been my lifeline, providing strength as I navigate the complexities of PTSD. It has become a Part of my daily routine, helping me to stay grounded and focused.

    Morning Prayers Set the Tone for My Day

    Starting my day with prayer has been particularly impactful. It sets a positive tone and provides a sense of calm and purpose. I often pray for strength, guidance, and protection, asking God to be with me throughout the day’s challenges. I pray that he helps me not miss things, or gives me the words to say, when I don’t know what to say. I pray that others see Him in me, and when I let a curse word slip, or when I let anger, or other emotions creep in , I pray that he help me with self control. We are all human, but I feel like we have to know the difference in being human, and when the devil is trying to take control in our lives. he knows our weaknesses, and he will play on them. He doesn’t want us to be close to God.

    Photo by Rene Terp on Pexels.com

    How Prayer Rewired My Trauma Responses

    Prayer has, over time, helped to rewire my responses to traumatic memories and anxiety triggers. By consistently bringing my fears and worries to God, I’ve experienced a gradual decrease in my trauma responses.

    Jesus is my Source of Comfort.

    The Comfort That Surpasses Understanding

    This comfort wasn’t just a feeling; it was a deep assurance that surpassed human understanding. It is a reminder that I am not alone in my struggles.

    Integrating Faith with Professional Treatment

    My journey has taught me that faith and professional treatment are not mutually exclusive; rather, they complement each other. Seeking help from mental health professionals and deepening my faith has proved to be a powerful combination.

     “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

    This verse often brought me comfort during difficult times.

    Photo by Melike Baran on Pexels.com

    “Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:12-13)

    When Doubt and Symptoms Return

    There have been times when the symptoms of PTSD have returned, bringing with them doubt and fear. It’s in these moments that holding on to that faith can sometimes feel like a challenge, but remember, that is the devil, that wants to bring you back to that dark place. he can’t win, because I am a child of GOD.

    Conclusion: Living as a Testament to His Grace

    My journey with PTSD has been long and challenging, but it’s been transformed by the power of faith and Jesus. Through the darkest moments, Jesus has been my source of comfort, providing peace and strength in the midst of turmoil.

    As I reflect on my journey, I’m reminded that faith and Jesus are not just about overcoming adversity but about finding purpose and meaning in the midst of it. My story is a testament to the grace I’ve experienced, and I hope it inspires others to find comfort and healing in their own struggles.

    By sharing my story, I aim to encourage those who may be struggling with PTSD to explore the role that faith can have in their healing journey. Jesus is my source of comfort, and I pray that it may be the same for others.

    Thanks for reading!

    God Bless you! Chastity Elgin

  • Understanding the Heart of EMS: A Personal Perspective

    Being an adult in EMS, With my own commentary of an article I saved 10 years ago . Ive been a medic since 2014. I came into the field of EMS not on purpose, it was just a calling, a placement. I didn’t know I’d be a paramedic, matter of fact, I thought when I was little, and growing up that I’d be a school teacher or work somewhere with my own office, that I could decorate pink , and have cool pens, and post-its. I do have A lot of pens now, pens everywhere, and my post-its come in the form of silk tape, or whatever I can write on. Sometimes, its a gauze package, or top of a container that my lunch was in.


    I saved this article in my notes over 10 years ago. As I read through it today, I find myself adding my own thoughts and experiences to each piece of advice. Over the years, I’ve had the opportunity to precept many new medics, and I absolutely love it. There’s something inspiring about seeing the eagerness and excitement of new providers. I genuinely love helping others, and I believe God blessed me with the gift of discernment. I can often tell when someone isn’t meant for EMS — whether it’s a lack of nurturing spirit or a missing sense of genuine care for others. I can see it clearly.

    Back in 2012, I was in my early twenties, just beginning my journey toward earning a college degree. Following my advisor’s guidance, I was taking core classes for an associate’s degree and had begun prerequisites for nursing school. As electives, I took First Aid and CPR classes — and it was during First Aid that I discovered a strong interest in emergency care. My advisor suggested I enroll in the EMT Basic course, but at the time, I had no idea what I was getting into. I thought it would just be another medical class.

    From the very first night, I realized this wasn’t just a course — it was a pathway to certification and a real career. With every class, my excitement grew. I became passionate about learning how to make a difference. Despite applying to nursing school multiple times — even being selected as an alternate — I kept facing rejection. Meanwhile, during EMT training, I completed clinicals and ambulance ride-alongs.

    EMS was a whole new world for me. I grew up sheltered — so much so that I wasn’t even allowed to watch shows like The Simpsons or King of the Hill. I had no real understanding of how harsh the world could be. Meeting EMS providers, I found a group of people who, despite their rough edges, shared a deep desire to help others. They treated me like family, and for the first time, I felt like I truly belonged. I learned from them that even when we can’t fix everything, we can still try.

    My motivation to learn was deeply personal, too. My mom had suffered a stroke a few years earlier and battled multiple sclerosis and diabetes. I was determined to learn everything I could about her conditions — and later, about the seizures she began having — so I would always be ready to care for her if needed.

    After completing EMT Basic, I applied to the paramedic program — and to my surprise, I was accepted on my first try. Looking back, I realize that all the rejections from nursing school weren’t failures — they were God’s redirections. His plan for me was not what I had imagined, but it was exactly what it needed to be.

    I’ll never forget my paramedic program interview. Sitting before the director and a panel of senior medics, I shared my simple, heartfelt reason for wanting to become a paramedic: I wanted to help people and make a difference. They laughed gently and said, “They’ll eat you alive.” To them, my idealism might have seemed naive, but it was (and still is) the truth. I wanted to learn as much as possible about the human body, about cardiac rhythms, about how to intervene when emergencies happened — so that if God ever needed me, I would be ready to be His instrument.

    I was shy and often unsure of myself throughout training. I cried before my first skills check-off, hiding in the bathroom until my instructor came to find me. I’m forever grateful that she did. She believed in me, and deep down, I knew the skills — I just needed to believe in myself. I passed every check-off.

    Through clinicals and field experiences, I met more EMS folks — and again, they made me feel like family. There’s something unique about EMS culture that’s hard to explain: We can meet as total strangers and within hours be sitting together at a table, sharing stories. We bond through shared experiences — we laugh, we listen, and we understand each other.

    EMS is not about flashing lights and sirens. It’s about answering calls in the middle of the night, walking into a stranger’s home, and doing everything possible to help. It’s about crawling down embankments to reach someone trapped in a crushed car, holding C-spine until firefighters can cut them free. We don’t do this for the money — far from it. We do it because we care. We face situations so heartbreaking and surreal that you couldn’t even make them up if you tried.

    This calling, this bond, this purpose — it’s something that can’t be taught in a classroom. It has to come from the heart.


    1) You aren’t required to know everything. More than likely you will never know everything, actually you will get to the hospital and give report, only for your patient to give a whole different complaint than they Gave you. don’t let that discourage you.

    2) You are required to know the foundational knowledge and skills of your job. No excuses. You do however have to know your skills, and you need to be knowledgable of medications, and side effects, and always stay up to date on new trending medications , because drugs like the new ozempic drug causes some side effects that are less desirable, and you need to know these, because I Guarantee, you will get calls from these side effects.

    3) Always be nice. It’s a force multiplier. I don’t care if you are having a bad day, or if you stayed up late before your shift, you need to be nice, even if you have to bite your tongue, they called you because they needed help, whether it’s an actual emergency or not, they are depending on you and your reaction. Drug dealer, or preacher, it shouldn’t matter how you treat them.

    4) There is no greater act of trust than being handed a sick child. Scratch out the part of being handed a sick child, because you aren’t going to be handed a sick child, the mom, or caregiver will more than likely throw you the child before you can get out of the ambulance good, so be ready. You don’t have time to realize it is a child, it’s just a smaller adult, and you need to go into Paramedic mode, you will have time later, whether it’s on your way home to realize you were handed this child, or what actually happened, for now, just concentrate on the fact that you were trusted with a sick child.

    5) Earn that trust. YES! Earn That trust, know what you need to do, don’t second guess yourself, Tuck your shirt in, look confident, even if you are scared to death, don’t let the patient or family see that you are scared. Stand tall, and talk with confidence, even if you had to google the condition or problem that you were responding to. They are trusting you, and when they called 911, they were depending on you and your knowledge.

    6) Don’t ever lie to your patient. If something is awkward to say, learn to say it without lying. You are going to have to answer the question of “am I going to be okay?”, and you are going to be looked dead in the eye by a patient that is dying, and told “Don’t let me die”, when you often are spending the last minutes of their life with them. Don’t tell them they are dying, but don’t lie, just tell them you are going to do your best to not let this happen, but sometimes, their is nothing you can do to stop it, just try.

    7) Read Thom Dick’s, People Care. Then read it again. I can’t say that I read this book, so I don’t Actually Know what it’s about …

    8) You can fake competence with the public, but not with your coworkers. The public might not know that you don’t have a clue what to do, but your coworkers will know, and you can be sure that they will remember it, and hopefully a seasoned medic will teach you, or show you where you messed up, or how to fix it. Too often some medics are burnt out, and they will just judge you. Don’t let this discourage you, learn from your mistake, research and study what you don’t know.

    9) Own your mistakes. We all make them, but only the best of us own them. Everyone makes mistakes, they are lying to themselves if they say any different. Do better though, learn where you messed up, and take constructive Criticism. Take all of the education oppurtunities you can. You must want to know more. You never stop learning. You shouldn’t anyway.

    10) Only when you’ve learned to own your mistakes will you be able to learn from them.

    11) Experience is relative. While it is relative, it is not everything, I know some medics that have been a medic for 20 plus years and some of the new medics know more than they do. You must learn by experience, otherwise, its Just another call.

    12) Proper use of a BVM is hard and takes practice. If you don’t seal a BVM correctly, you aren’t doing any good. You have small hands, admit it, and ask one of the EMRS, or Fire to help you hold it, so you get a good seal, otherwise you absolutely are doing a useless job. You are literally just going through the motions, and not doing a dang thing else.

    13) OPAs and NPAs make using a BVM less hard. Have you ever tried to blow air into a pool Float, without squeezing it open? OPAs and NPAs are like squeezing the opening to let the air in. Don’t work harder, work smarter.

    14) Master the physical assessment. Nobody in the field of medicine should be able to hold a candlestick to your physical assessment skills. Be able to look at a human body from head to toe, and realize when something looks off. You might respond to chest pain, only to realize Your patient has excess fluid in their abdomen, or swollen hands and feet. This swelling pushes up on the chest, and might even be a severe back call. You Won’t realize this without a full assessment.

    15) Keep your head about you. If you fail at that, you’ll likely fail at everything else. Don’t get distracted, keep you head on a swivel, otherwise, you might not realize you are in danger. Always be observant. Never stand in front of a door, stand to the side, and be cautious of windows.

    16) There is a huge difference between not knowing and not caring. Care about the things you don’t yet know. This is huge, you might not know the answer, or you might not have known that your altered patient fell 2 days ago, but you have to care, listen to them, and communicate with family that knows them, they will often tell you A lot. Some useless Information, but some very valuable.

    17) Train like someone’s life depends on it. Train like you are running a marathon. Learn how you equipment works, and Be Familiar with your truck. memorize it inside and out. Know where everything is, so that when you have seconds to make a difference, you don’t know where something is, or how it works. Watch you tube videos or listen to podcast, whatever it takes to mean the difference in life or death.

    18) Drive like nobody’s life depends on it. You want to drive safe, you want to pay attention to other drivers, because you may see them, but they are not going to necessarily stop because you have lights and sirens. Some folks have no idea what to do when they see an ambulance. If you are driving like an idiot with your partner in The back, they can’t take care of patient.

    19) Pet the dog. (Even when you’re wearing gloves.). Ha Ha, I always pet the dog, unless it’s wanting to kill me, or sees me as a threat.

    20) Have someone to talk to when the world crashes down. Don’t be afraid to vent, you matter, and I promise you are going to want to have someone that will listen. It may be a therapist, and it may be a coworker. You family probably Won’t understand, but don’t keep it inside, it will destroy you.

    21) Let human tragedy enhance your appreciation for all that you have. You will see things that are tragic, but let it change the way you see life. Capture the sunrise, capture the sunset, visit your grandma, and realize how things can change in an instant. Don’t take the little things for Granted.

    22) Check the oil. If the ambulance don’t have oil in it, you might not make it to the next call. You have to respect your equipment, because if the ambulance won’t go, you can’t get them to the hospital. If the ambulance don’t have oil, you can’t get to the Emergency.

    23) Protect your back. It will quite possibly be the sole determining factor in the length of your career. Raise the bed, Raise the stretcher, Get your patient to assist in moving if they can. I promise your back will hate you later, if you pull, tug, and lift more than you needed to. Work Smarter, not harder.

    24) Say please and thank you even when it’s a matter of life or death. Respect goes a long way. your patient’s will Remember that you were nice to them, and that you had manners.

    25) Wipe your feet at the door. Don’t track mud into a strangers house. Would you want someone to come in your house, and track mud and dirt all over your floor ?

    26) When you see someone who is really good at a particular skill say, “Teach me how you do that.” Always learn. Always take advice from others, you might figure out a better way to do something.

    27) Nobody can give you your happiness or job satisfaction. It is yours and yours alone. And you have to choose it. If you hate your job, you will not do your best. It doesn’t matter what ambulance service you work for, if you hate it, find something Else to do , or Somewhere else to go, Because the last thing someone who is having a horrible day needs, is someone showing up that hates being at work.

    28) We can’t be prepared for everything. Actually, you won’t every be fully prepared for everything, nothing could prepare you for some of the things you will see, or do.

    29) We can be prepared for almost everything. you can expect the worst though, and make sure you have what you need for what you know.

    30) Check out your rig. It’s more meaningful that just confirming that everything is still there. If you don’t check out your ambulance, I can assure you, you will need something that won’t be there. The excuse of not checking out your truck won’t matter to the patient, or their family.

    31) Tell your patients that it was a pleasure to meet them and an honor to be of service. Sometimes they won’t be a pleasure, and you are just ready to drop them off at the local hospital, but don’t treat them with disrespect. Self Control goes a long way. Don’t take their words personal when they are mean, they don’t feel good, and sometimes, conditions like UTIs can really effect the level of meaness.

    32) Mean it. Be Kind, they might not experience kindness from a single Soul but you.

    33) Keep a journal. My journal is my blog, and it really makes a difference in getting your feelings out.

    34) Make it HIPAA compliant. Don’t use names or identification in it, you don’t wanna loose everything you got, on being careless.

    35) Thank the police officer that hangs out on your scene for no good reason. Always be appreciative of your help. They didn’t have to be there. They are like family too.

    36) Recognize that he or she probably wasn’t hanging out for no good reason. They might know more about a situation than you do, so appreciate them hanging around to make sure you are okay.

    37) Interview for a job at least once every year, even if you don’t want the job.

    38) Iron your uniform. You might not iron, I Don’t, but look professional, and don’t wear wrinkled dirty clothes to work. You need to look the part.

    39) Maintain the illusion of control. Nobody needs to know that you weren’t prepared for what just happened.

    40) Apologize when you make a mistake. Do it immediately.

    41) Your patient is not named honey, babe, sweetie, darling, bud, pal, man or hey. Use your patient’s name when speaking to them. Sir and Ma’am are acceptable alternatives. In the south, this is a hard one, but try to call your patient by name, they will respect you more for speaking to them by name.

    42) Forgive yourself for your mistakes. Don’t beat yourself up, don’t think you are less of a caregiver when you make a mistake, just learn from it, and do better next time. You are going to miss things, you are Human

    43) Forgive your coworkers for their quirks. Your coworkers are not always going to be in the best mood, they are going to get hangry, realize this , and don’t use it against them.

    44) Exercise. Even when it isn’t convenient. this is definitely a weakness of mine, and my exercise often come more from moving, walking and lifting patients , but exercise is good for the mind and body.

    45) Sometimes it’s OK to eat the junk at the QuickyMart. It’s not always the best, but you will have days that the gas station is your only option, and only chance to grab a bite to eat.

    46) It’s not OK to always eat the junk at the QuickyMart. Sometimes the gas station pizza has been in the warmer since the store opened, so you will take a gamble sometimes when you eat the pizza, or biscuit that crunches and flakes everywhere when you try and bite into it.

    47) Don’t take anything that a patient says in anger personally. This goes back to what I said about elderly patient’s with UTIs, or patients with dementia.

    48) Don’t take anything that a patient says when they are drunk personally. Avoid small talk with the drunks, they won’t even probably Remember that you Picked them up tomorrow.

    49) Don’t ever convince yourself that you can always tell the difference between a fake seizure and a real seizure. If they are faking a seizure, they are still sick, due to the fact that they feel like they have to fake a seizure, Treat them with respect. they want attention, for whatever reason.

    50) Think about what you would do if this was your last shift working in EMS. Do that stuff. I always keep this in mind when I leave for the day.

    51) Carry your weight.

    52) Carry your patient.

    53) If firefighters ever do #51 or # 52 for you, say thank you. (And mean it.) i always tell them thank you, Because no way I could have moved some paitent’s Without them.

    54) Being punched, kicked, choked or spit on while on duty is no different than being punched, kicked, choked or spit on while you’re sitting in church or in a restaurant. Insist that law enforcement and your employer follow up with appropriate action.

    55) Wave at little kids. Treat them like gold. They will remember you for a long time. Show them the lights and sirens so they aren’t scared when they see an ambulance. Pure excitement from little ones will make your day better too.

    56) Hold the radio mike away from your mouth. For petes sake, we don’t need you putting the mic in your mouth to talk. Talk clear, and make sure you can be understood.

    57) There is never any reason to yell on the radio….ever. You will not be understood if you are yelling.

    58) When a patient says, “I feel like I’m going to die.” believe them. Pretty much Every time someone Has told me they are going to die, or they feel like they are fixing to die, they have.

    59) Very sick people rarely care which hospital you’re driving toward.

    60) Very sick people rarely pack a bag before you arrive. Sometimes they pack a bag, because they have been down this road before and they know they will be staying a while.

    61) Sometimes, very sick people pack a bag and demand a specific hospital. Don’t be caught off guard. Treat everyone the same, and you won’t have to figure out which one they are.

    62) Bring yourself to work. There is something that you were meant to contribute to this profession. You’ll never be able to do that if you don’t show up.

    63) Clean the truck. Would you want to get in a nasty truck?

    64) Clean your stethoscope. It has all the germs from every call you go on.

    65) Your patient’s are going to lie to you. Assume they are telling you the truth until you have strong evidence of the contrary. They will lie, and it will make you mad when you find out they were Lying, but treat them like they are telling you the truth anyway.

    66) Disregard #65 if it has anything to do with your personal safety. Trust nobody in this regard. Always care about yoursel first, Your safety is first always.

    67) If it feels like a stupid thing to do, it probably is. If you think you shouldn’t do something, probably shouldn’t do it.

    68) You are always on camera. Even if you don’t see it, you are Probably being watched by someone, or filmed through a ring camera, iPhone, or video Surveillance somewhere. Don’t do anything you wouldn’t want recorded.

    69) If you need save-the-baby type “hero moments” to sustain you emotionally as a caregiver you will likely become frustrated and eventually leave. You will not have too many days that you feel like a Hero, if you need this kind of validation, you are setting yourself up for complete disappointment.

    70) Emergency services was never about you. EMS is far from being about you , don’t do it if you need a complex, because you are there for others,

    71) The sooner you figure out #69 and #70, the sooner the rest of us can get on with our jobs. If you have to be a Par-GOD, or need to be patted on the back frequently, do us all a favor, and don’t work with us. Don’t start another shift on the ambulance, go find another job, not in healthcare at all.

    72) People always remember how you made them feel. People know if you are a burden to them, they feel it, and they know if you really want to be there are not. Don’t make them feel like they are getting on your nerves. Think about Whether it really matters at the end of your shift, after all you are getting paid by the hour anyway.

    73) People rarely sue individuals who made them feel safe, well cared for and respected.

    74) You represent our profession and the internet has a long, long memory.

    75) Don’t worry too much about whether or not people respect you. You will in fact encounter many of folks who don’t respect you, and they will be entitled, so just be respectful. Do your best.

    76) Worry about being really good at what you do. Don’t give anyone a Reason not to respect you.

    77) When you first meet a patient, come to their level, look them in the eyes and smile. Make it your habit.

    78) Never lie about the vital signs. If the patients vital signs change dramatically from the back of the rig to the E.R. bed, you want everyone to believe you.

    79) Calm down. It’s not your emergency. I’ve heard this from the beginning. It was never your emergency.

    80) Stand still. There is an enormous difference between dramatic but senseless action and correct action. Stop, think and then move with a purpose.

    81) Knowing when to leave a scene is a vital skill that you must constantly hone. Know when the Environment isn’t safe, and get out quick as you can without making a scene.

    82) The fastest way to leave a scene should always be in your field of awareness. You will always be able to spot a way out even at church, or a restaurant. you won’t feel safe sitting faced away from a door.

    83) Scene safety is not a five second consideration as you enter the scene. It takes constant vigilance. Every scene can become unsafe in an instance. Always remember that.

    84) Punitive medicine is never acceptable. Choose the right needle size based on the patients clinical needs.

    85) Know what’s happening in your partner’s life. Ask them about it after you return from your days off. You will spend more time with your partner than you do your family, so know what’s going on, and learn their kid’s names.

    86) If your partner has a wife and kids, know their names. Absolutely, just repeating the above. Your partner’s family will be like your family too.

    87) No matter how hard you think you worked for them, your knowledge and skills are not yours. They were gifted to you. The best way to say thank you is to give them away.

    88) Learn from the bad calls. Then let them go. Don’t keep re-living your bad calls, they will Destoy you. Some calls will stay with you forever, but ultimately if you did everything you could, that is all that matters.

    89) When you’re lifting a patient and they try to reach out and grab something, say, “We’ve got you.” If you don’t have them, get help.

    90) Request the right of way.

    91) Let your days off be your days off. Fight for balance. Don’t overwork, your job will replace you when you leave.

    92) Have a hobby that has nothing to do with emergency services. Find something else like working in a flower garden or some type of fun Activity that Doesn’t involve EMS.

    93) Have a mentor who knows nothing about emergency services. Visit your family that has no idea what you really do for a living, some of them will think you just drive an ambulance, and sit on the side of the road all day. Let them think that, it’s better for them and you.

    94) Wait until the call is over. Once the patient is safe at the hospital and you’re back on the road, there will be plenty of time to laugh until you can’t breathe.

    95) Tell the good stories. discuss the good stories and outcomes of patient’s with your partner. Appreciate the little accomplishments, they will mean A lot to you later.

    96) You never know when you might be running your last call. Cherish the small things. Always feel like every call is your last. You never know what might happen before you make it back to the station. You never know what might happen on your way home.

    97) You can never truly know the full extent of your influence.

    98) If you’re going to tell your friends and acquaintances what you do for a living, you’ll need to embrace the idea that you’re always on duty. You don’t have to tell them all the tragic details, if they ask if you had any bad calls today, you don’t have to tell them if you had a life changing experience, let them in on some minor details of a not so tragic call instead. They don’t need to know everything. It’s better off that they don’t know.

    99) Be willing to bend the rules to take good care of people. Don’t be afraid to defend the decisions you make on the patients behalf. If you were the patient’ advocate, be ready to stand up and explain to a doctor, or a lawyer why you did something you did. Be able to justify every decision you made, whether it was why you did something, or why you didn’t do something.

    100) Service is at the heart of everything we do. The farther away from that concept you drift, the more you are likely to become lost.

    101) There is no shame in wanting to make the world a better place. Sometimes nothing you Can do would change the patient’s outcome, but always try your best, and treat other like you would want yourself or family treated, and you won’t be wrong.

    Pass this on, maybe it will remind us all what “EMS” really means..

    • Chastity Elgin NREMT-Paramedic
  • Paramedics and Mental Health: A Critical Discussion

    I’ve been a paramedic in Mississippi since 2014. I’ve seen a lot in those years—accidents, heart attacks, overdoses. I’ve handled death, comforted families, and kept moving forward because that’s what we’re trained to do. You learn to compartmentalize the chaos. You build a shell.

    But in 2019, when COVID-19 arrived, nothing could have prepared me for what came next.

    At first, we didn’t know what we were dealing with. One case here, one there. Then the calls started coming in faster, and suddenly, the radio never stopped. The hospital bays filled. People were gasping for air. Families weren’t allowed in. And despite everything we knew, everything we tried, people kept dying.

    And the worst part? There was nothing I could do to stop it.

    That helplessness—it stays with you. It’s different than anything I had faced before. This wasn’t just about one bad call, or one bad shift. It was day after day of watching people slip away, often alone, and then stepping outside into a world that didn’t always seem to care or even believe it was happening.

    This blog is about what happens to people like me—and maybe people like you—when the trauma doesn’t stop after the sirens go quiet. It’s about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, but not just the kind we hear about from the battlefield. It’s about the invisible wounds healthcare workers carry. The chronic stress. The moral injury. The soul-deep exhaustion.

    It’s about what trauma does to the brain, how it rewires your body, your mind, and even your sense of self. And it’s about how we can heal.

    Because if no one talks about it, we just keep suffering in silence.

    For years, I couldn’t figure out my niche—what message I was supposed to share, or who I was meant to reach. I looked at what people cared about, what problems needed solving. And then, I looked in the mirror.

    “I looked in the mirror….”

    The number one problem I kept running into wasn’t out there—it was inside me. My mental health. My own struggles. Some days are great. Some days are not. There are mornings when I wake up with a pit in my stomach and nights when my mind won’t stop racing. Some smells or faces trigger flashbacks—old scenes that replay like a bad dream I never asked for. I’ve had panic attacks in silence, moments when I felt like I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t cope, couldn’t keep going.

    “ Of Course, I take meds, and I go to therapy, but….”

    Yes, I take medication. Yes, I go to therapy. But I’ve still wrestled with anxiety, depression, and even thoughts of ending it all—not because I wanted to die, but because I didn’t want to keep hurting.

    But my faith in Jesus has anchored me. He has been my steady place when nothing else made sense. My love for my children and the deep knowledge that they need me has kept me grounded when the waves felt too strong. The waves are rough, and even more so, when you are drowning. Jesus is my anchor though, so He wouldn’t let me drown, and He won’t let you either, but you have to let Him fight for you, you can’t do it on your own. 

    I’m writing this because I know I’m not the only one. I want people—especially healthcare workers who’ve walked through trauma they can’t even name—to know they’re not alone. I want to shine a light on what so many of us keep hidden. I want to break the silence around PTSD, anxiety, and the mental toll of being the strong one for everyone else. We try to fix everyone else, we go to work when we are tired, and we struggle through shifts helping others when we are just struggling to take the next patient, but if it’s one thing I know, you can’t help others if you don’t help yourself.

    If you’ve ever felt the way I have, I want this blog to feel like a safe space. A reminder that your pain is real, your healing is possible, and your life still matters—more than you know.

    What even is PTSD?

    PTSD is a psychiatric disorder that can occur in people who have experienced or witnessed a traumatic event such as a natural disaster, serious accident, terrorist act, war/combat, rape, or other violent personal assault. But it also includes chronic trauma—like what many healthcare workers experienced during the COVID-19 pandemic.

    According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition (DSM-5), PTSD is diagnosed when a person has been exposed to actual or threatened death, serious injury, or sexual violence in one or more of the following ways:

    Experiencing repeated or extreme exposure to details of traumatic events (like first responders repeatedly seeing the aftermath of accidents or deaths)

    Directly experiencing the traumatic event

    Witnessing, in person, the event as it occurred to others

    Learning that the event occurred to a close family member or friend.

    Diagnosis? Symptoms? I know you have heard those words, but probably haven’t found a way to relate them to your own life?  

    For a diagnosis, symptoms must last more than a month and cause significant problems in daily life. These symptoms fall into four categories:

    1. Intrusive thoughts – unwanted memories, flashbacks, nightmares.
    2. Avoidance – staying away from reminders (people, places, conversations).
    3. Negative changes in thoughts and mood – feelings of shame, guilt, numbness, or detachment.
    4. Changes in physical and emotional reactions – being easily startled, on edge, irritable, or having difficulty sleeping or concentrating.

    But here’s what I’ve learned—PTSD isn’t always obvious, and it doesn’t show up just in flashbacks or nightmares.

    There were times when I felt overwhelmed in a crowd—church services, grocery stores, even family gatherings. The sound of voices, footsteps, background noise… none of it had changed, but I had. Sounds that weren’t even that loud started to feel magnified, almost unbearable. I’d feel the tension in my body before I even understood what was happening in my mind. Sometimes, I had to leave a place without explanation, just to catch my breath.

    I didn’t connect it to PTSD at first. I just thought I was anxious, moody, or maybe just “off.” But the more I learned, the more I realized: the anxiety, the depression, the random crying spells, the exhaustion from sleepless nights—all of it was my nervous system still fighting battles long after the trauma had passed.

    On bad days, it’s like everything hits at once. I get physically sick from the emotional weight. I cry easily. I snap at my family even when I don’t mean to. And then I feel guilty for not being stronger. But now I understand: this is how trauma lingers. It doesn’t just live in the mind—it lives in the body.

    But the truth is, PTSD doesn’t always look the same in everyone. And sometimes, people don’t even realize they have it—because the symptoms feel like “normal” responses to stress, grief, or burnout.                      

    “It’s not about being weak. It’s about being wounded. And wounds can heal—but only when we name them”

    Common Causes and Misconceptions

    PTSD isn’t only caused by one horrific event. It can be caused by prolonged exposure to traumatic environments. That’s something I wish more people understood—especially in the medical field. Sometimes, PTSD can’t be pointed back to one particular event. It shows up when you go to the thrift store with yours kids, and you are standing in a long line, waiting to check out, to hear a crying child, or someone in a store is staring at you. What is worse, you think everyone is looking at you, your senses become heightened, and everything seems to be loud, the radio station in the store seems to have the most annoying music, and the door bell at the dollar store is getting on your nerves. You feel like you are taking too long to get your wallet out of your purse, and before you know it, you are so mad, and just ready to get home.  No one was probably actually staring at you, and some days you might not have even noticed the door bell in the store, but today you do, because you have stuffed all of the emotions from work inside. You have work multiple deaths at work in the past week, with no time to cope, just clean the ambulance, restock, do the paperwork and go to the next call. It all eventually has to come out at some point, with PTSD, you never know when it will show up.  I believe one of the worst instance, that I can think of, was going to one of my children’s birthday party’s. We went to a hibachi place, where they cook the food in front of you, on a fire. One of the cooks close by had cooked something and burnt it. The music, the crowd, the flames, and the smell. It was all too much. I had just worked a call that week, in which a young person wrecked, and burnt up in the car. The smell at the scene, the sirens, the lights and all the thought running through my head begin to surface at that very moment.  I struggled to work through it, but I had to. I had no other choice. 

    It’s not just the call where everything goes wrong. Sometimes it’s the 100 calls that wear you down over time. It’s the shift where you’re out of ambulances, out of ventilators, out of time, and you still have to keep going.

    Some common causes include:

    • Combat exposure
    • Sexual or physical assault
    • Childhood abuse
    • Serious accidents or injuries
    • Medical trauma—both as a patient and as a provider
    • Living or working through a pandemic

    Misconception #1: “You have to have a breakdown to have PTSD.”

    Truth: Many people with PTSD function well on the outside. They go to work, care for their families, and show up smiling—while battling constant anxiety, flashbacks, or emotional numbness inside.

    Misconception #2: “It only affects weak people.”

    Truth: PTSD is not a weakness. It’s a human brain doing its best to survive something that was too overwhelming to process in the moment.

    Misconception #3: “Time heals all wounds.”

    Truth: Time helps, but healing from PTSD requires more than time—it takes awareness, support, and often professional help.

    Understanding PTSD is the first step in healing from it. If you see yourself in any part of this, you are not broken. You are responding in a very real way to very real pain. And you’re not alone.

    PTSD isn’t something you just “get over.” It’s something you learn to live with, understand, and begin to heal from—one day at a time. I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that my trauma didn’t leave visible scars, but it still left wounds. Wounds that still ache sometimes. Wounds that still bleed when triggered.   As a heathcare professional, or not, you wouldn’t just put a band-aid on a laceration that needs stitches, you wouldn’t put pour salt in an open wound, PTSD is no different. We can’t just cover up our emotions, and not think they won’t eventually come out somewhere else.  All to often though, we remain strong for everyone else, when in truth, we are dying on the inside. We are falling apart, piece by piece, and no one knows it. 

    But I believe healing is possible—not just physically or emotionally, but spiritually, too.

    “But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.”

    — Isaiah 53:5

    That’s the promise I hold on to. Not that I won’t struggle, but that I won’t struggle alone. Healing is a process—and I’m walking through it with faith, honesty, and hope that someone else reading this might find their way too.

    -Thanks for reading.

    Chastity Elgin NRP