Stitches of My Heart

Tag: blogging

  • 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

  • PTSD and EMS

    The nature of the work that EMS clinicians do—regularly facing high-stress, life-and-death situations, witnessing trauma, and working long, irregular hours—significantly contributes to mental health challenges such as anxiety, depression, and PTSD. The cumulative impact of these stressors also makes them more susceptible to burnout and increases the risk of suicide compared to the general population.

    There is help!

    Efforts to address these issues include promoting mental health awareness, providing access to counseling and peer support programs, and implementing organizational changes to reduce burnout.

    EMS Provider Health and Wellness

    “It’s okay, to not be okay….”

    Emergency medical services (EMS) workers face significant mental, physical, and emotional stress with every shift. This demanding profession is associated with high levels of stress, an increased risk of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and a high incidence of work-related injuries. These challenges contribute to elevated rates of suicide, burnout, clinical depression, and physical health issues that may eventually prevent EMS personnel from continuing fieldwork. Maintaining personal health and overall wellness—physical, emotional, and mental—is essential for sustaining long-term careers in EMS.

    EMS providers are highly trained medical professionals who support or operate as extensions of physicians, primarily in pre-hospital settings. The modern EMS system was established following the National Research Council’s 1966 White Paper, Accidental Death and Disability: The Neglected Disease of Modern Society. This report revealed high accidental death rates in the United States and emphasized the need for national, standardized, and advanced medical training, leading to the development of the National Standard Paramedic Curriculum.

    According to the U.S. Department of Labor’s Bureau of Labor Statistics, there were approximately 241,200 paramedic positions in 2014, with an anticipated job growth rate of 24% over the next eight years. Since its inception, EMS professionals have been recognized for their capability to assist patients in extreme situations, whether on busy highways in scorching heat, in remote farmlands during freezing temperatures, or in high-crime urban areas.

    The demanding environments, combined with high patient acuity and the adrenaline rush experienced while responding to emergencies with lights and sirens, have contributed to the perception of EMS workers as “adrenaline junkies.” These job characteristics often attract individuals with specific personality traits. Dr. Jeffery Mitchell identified common traits among emergency personnel, including a need for control, obsessive-compulsive tendencies, high internal motivation, action-oriented behavior, a need for stimulation and immediate gratification, susceptibility to boredom, risk-taking, a “rescue personality,” strong dedication, and a deep need to feel needed. These traits often drive EMS providers to continue working despite personal risk or harm.

    In addition to the psychological and emotional demands, EMS work is physically taxing. It is not uncommon for providers to be awakened suddenly and required to lift or move a 300-pound (136 kg) patient within minutes, without adequate time for stretching or warming up. Historically, many EMS agencies scheduled employees for 24-hour shifts, which, combined with low wages and the necessity of working multiple jobs, has led to significant sleep debt. Sleep debt is the gap between the amount of sleep an individual gets and the amount needed to avoid severe fatigue. More than half of EMS workers report insufficient sleep, poor sleep quality, and inadequate recovery between shifts.

    Addressing these challenges requires a comprehensive approach to health and wellness, focusing on mental health support, physical fitness, and adequate rest to ensure EMS workers can safely and effectively perform their critical roles.

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  • Dear young Paramedic,

    Congratulations! You’ve made it through medic school. A long drawn out process. So, you went to Paramedic school because you want to help people, or you want to make a difference. In your life, you have felt like life has been unfair at times, but you’ve made it. So many things you haven’t understood. How can dad’s decide they want a different life? How can siblings leave you, and act like they wasn’t sitting on a trampoline in the front yard with you giggling, or little brothers decide to choose their wife over you? After all, you pushed him down a gravel driveway in a dump truck for Pete’s sake. How can families not be together anymore?

    Life is unfair, and you about to see just how unfair it can be.

    You want to make a difference, you want to hold hands, and offer comfort to others that are suffering, or fix broken parts of your own life by showing some compassion to others that maybe didn’t get it as a child? After all , your mom showed you she loved you? She combed your hair just right and sprayed it with the best hairspray to give you that puff in the front. Your dad fixed you coffee with more sugar than coffee before he went to work? Your sister sang on the kitchen table to Reba, and you laughed. Your little brother grew up at your house, and brought you chicken from the local restaurant, and had your living room full of his friends playing video games.

    So you want to make a difference? You want to learn everything you can about your mom’s seizures, because you won’t allow her to hurt or be in any distress and not know what to do. You have to have the knowledge to help her with her multiple sclerosis, because you will not allow her to go to a nursing home. You want to know everything there is to know about your little boys asthma, because after all, not being able to breath is a big ordeal.

    You know how to control bleeding, you can read cardiac strips, and intubate. You know how to do CPR, and deliver a baby. You can start an IV going down the road, or a dark, non lit house. You should be proud of yourself.

    You’ll get pretty good at reading people by their tone of voice, and facial expressions. You will automatically start assessing everyone you meet, whether you are just talking about the weather, or what your kids are doing this weekend. A few years down the road, you will have figured out how to draw up medication, one handed, and did I mention going down the county roads, because you were taught how to draw up medication sitting at a desk in school.

    You’ll find certain smells that you can’t help but gag at. You are human. You’ll find ways to mask the smells, with menthol vapor rubs in your nostrils, or rubbing alcohol works wonders. You’ll figure out how to get blood out of your tactical pants, with peroxide.

    Oh the places you will go…

    I’m not talking about the Dr. Seuss book. I wished I was, but honey you will find people live different. Houses where the roaches are out during the daytime, and garbage that hasn’t made it to the road in months. You will care for those folks, and do it with a straight face. Jesus loves us all, remember that. I don’t think he approves of filth, but he loves them just like he loves you. You don’t know why or how they got in this position, but maybe their house is a representation of their mind.

    You’ll go in the houses of the rich, where you feel like you need to take your shoes off and you’ll go in the houses of the poor where in the winter, you are freezing , and their heat source comes from the stove, but remember they called you, and you are there for a reason. It might not be an emergency to you, but it is to them, so treat it like one.

    For the most part, they trust you. You are going to have people that don’t trust you, but you are going to need to be nice, remain respectful. When you get an elderly patient, with a UTI, Remember, they don’t realize they are being mean, but I know , you didn’t learn that in Paramedic school. You are going to be in places that you never imagined, from crack houses to back seats of crushed cars. Watch for the glass, and try not to stay in the car long. Get the patient out as safely as possible. You are going to meet a lot of people that want to help, and most of them are volunteering, so don’t disrespect them either. When you are in the middle of nowhere and a guy with two radios and fire gear shows up, let him help. He will become family to you.

    You are going to be on some roads that you didn’t even know existed, and you will wonder at times if they are even on a map, a lot of times they might not show up on your gps, but try to look for the house numbers , that are sometimes wrote on the end of a trailer with a sharpie. I’m being serious, not all house numbers are listed and when folks start coming out they are going to ask you for a name. Be nice, just tell them you didn’t get a name. You will find someone outside, waving you down, or doing an ambulance dance, also resembling jumping jacks. You might not be able to get close to the front door, because the home health nurse’s car will be blocking the driveway, or the family members cars, these are the ones with flashers.

    Did I mention, don’t plan anything on the days you work for after you clock out? You are more than likely going to get a late call if you do.

    Occasionally, you will come to work and be able to take a nap, or watch some movies on your phone, some days are slow, and you might not even start an IV, or turn the lights and sirens on. You are going to have some patients that you see often, and they depend on you. Sometimes they call because they are scared, or lonely. They know your name, or if you look sad, and they know if you care. They will ask you about your family, and you will get to know some of their family. I’m sure Paramedic school didn’t teach you this, but add it to the list. When these patients do get really sick, it often happens quickly, and you may even get frustrated at times, over their repetitive calls, but don’t. They see you different. One day, they won’t be calling anymore, and you will worry about them. You will sometimes give your lunch or snacks away to people that are hungry, when you haven’t eat. You will either order them door dash, or maybe bring them thanksgiving if you are off, you will worry about complete strangers when it’s cold or hot, because you know their house isn’t fit for bad weather.

    You will pray, a lot!

    You are going to need your faith, faith in God will be the only thing that gets you through some days.

    Don’t stop caring though, don’t let the work beat you down. The first time you see a lady die that just gave birth to a baby, and her family left to go across the road to pick her up some food, her phone ringing is going to break you. It’s going to change you. Your legs will shake, your heart will pound and you are going to have so many questions , but don’t stay this way long, you have another call holding. You’ll never forget that moment though.

    When you go to a domestic disturbance, you are going to get angry, you are going to see a side of yourself, you didn’t realize you had. You will become an advocate. Hold on, no one told you that in paramedic school either. You are going to beg her to leave and tell her every reason she don’t deserve the abuse, only to go back to her later, maybe a few months later where she is so traumatically injured, that she isn’t recognizable, and you are going to get angry. You’ll never loose that memory of her.

    Later on, a few months later, you will respond to a CPR in progress call, you will perform CPR on a young adult, where you look up to see their child watching you. I promise , it will take some time to get past this one, especially when you realize, they didn’t make it. You’ll wonder about this child ten years later.

    You will witness a newborn stop breathing and become limp, with the new dad following the ambulance, and deliever a baby that came too early, and for a little while it will change the way you look at babies. Don’t give up though.

    You will go through a pandemic. What ? Yeah, you will learn of a new disease like the flu, that the whole country will have never heard about. You will have to dress in hazmat gear to enter houses. You will not have enough oxygen to save them. You will go to work when everyone else is staying inside. You wanted to make a difference, you tried your best. After you see more people die in a two week period than most do in their lifetime, you will break. You will crumble , and run far away from it. You will go try a new career, making people feel better, completely out of healthcare. Did I mention, you will fix hair? Crazy , right ? But you can’t handle the person you were becoming. Cold, and numb to not feel hurt. You won’t even be able to feel happiness, but if you feel at all, you let the wall down to all emotions. Don’t give up though, you got to keep going

    Less than a year after doing hair, you will be able to go back, you will miss helping people, or trying to anyway. When you go back, you will get the swing of it real quick. You will work hard and try you best to be compassionate and feel everything, good and bad.

    Did I mention it got a lot busier? A lot of your coworkers have changed to, they are burnt out from the pandemic. You will be used by the public for a ride and drug abuse is at an all time high. Narcan is like candy, and you will witness a lot of overdoses, and several of these folks are young, and left to die by their supposed friends. You will also have to learn how to tell family members with compassion that there is nothing you can do to help them, and ask which funeral home they want. No one taught you that either. You are getting older now, and some calls will cause you to cry when you are cleaning up the battlefield in your ambulance when the struggle of saving them was a fight, but you will have made it to the hospital . You will watch family members kiss their loved ones on the forehead and trust you to care for them, for them to be talking to you and tell you they are dieing, to only realize 10 minutes later, that they knew it. Always believe them, when they tell you they are going to die.

    You will have a few slow months, and you will laugh and be silly, but one day you’ll have another call that adds to the trauma. You will work another pediatric death that changes you. You will cry, you will feel like you’ll never be normal again , and you won’t know how you will make it, but you will. When your kids ask about your day, you will tell them it was okay. You will cry in the bathtub, as tears fall from your face to the floor, and you will have random anxiety attacks for a while, but you have to keep going. You want to make a difference, you want to save the world.

    You will grow in your faith, and realize it’s okay to not be okay. You will realize that you can only do so much, and as long as you do your best, that is all you can do. You can’t do it on your own, you are God’s tool. Have faith, pray, and get in your Bible. God never promised us an easy road, he just promised to be with us. When you find your strength in him, you will realize also that God placed you at every call you went to. He strategically planned for you to go, because he knew you could handle it.

    He went to the wilderness and was tested by the Devil. He shut the lions mouth to keep Daniel safe. He protected men from fire because they trusted him. They escaped without a burn. He healed so many people because they trusted him, and just the touch of his robe healed a woman that had been bleeding for days. He made a paralyzed man walk. He walked on water. So imagine what he’s going to do with you!

    Sincerely.

    Older wiser Paramedic

  • God’s Plan was not my plan…..

    When I went through Paramedic school in 2014, it wasn’t exactly my plans. I started college at 16, most don’t know this, because my mom had a stroke and she has multiple sclerosis. I wanted to gain as much knowledge as I could to always be able to take care of her. My dad left, after 17 years of marriage and she needed help in multiple ways. My siblings were both younger than me and I wanted to make sure they got to school and back and they both successfully graduated high school.

    I was a straight A student, but…

    I quit school, to be able to help with my brother and sister, with intentions of doing homeschool. Homeschool on my own was not ideal, and I made good grades, so I took My GED and started college courses. I had no idea what I wanted to be, but knew I wanted to help others. I suck at math, so I struggled time after time to try and get into the nursing program. I took EMT basic as an elective, but quickly felt called to continue my education and gain my Associates in Paramedicine. I had a few years where I worked full time and had kids that made my process a long one. I applied for LPN, and RN programs , too many times to count. I got alternate a few times but never accepted.

    God’s Plan…

    You see, Gods plan was for me to continue emergency medicine, in the chaos, and to be with folks on their worse days. Offer compassion, and be kind to folks that never experience it. Being in EMS , we are with folks that are scared, anxious and need to just know someone cares. I couldn’t tell you all of the times that I’ve been in the right place at the right time, or the times God has protected me, when I’ve been off during a tragedy that I don’t know how I would’ve handled it.

    All the times, I felt I couldn’t handle a situation though, God could. There has been times, I’ve cried and wanted to scream to wish I hadn’t witnessed the tragedy and pure evil that I witness at times. I’ve thought I’d never be the same after some occurrences, but God steps in an eases my mind. When I went to Paramedic school, I was timid and didn’t have much self- confidence. I also had three small children, and going to school full time, trying to study or even have gas to make it to school was a task within itself. I did my best, I studied and I lost sleep plenty of nights. When I went to clinicals, I had the best preceptors. God chose exactly who I needed to guide me, and show me the ropes. All along, I had one goal in mind, and it wasn’t to just finish Paramedic school, it was to learn whatever I needed to learn to be able to make a difference. Sometimes there is absolutely nothing we can do, if it’s someone’s time to go, we can’t stop it.

    I’ve been called green, naive and even told that I would be eaten alive by EMS folks when I started working full time as a medic. When I finished Paramedic school, my Instructor said she watched me grow a backbone. I didn’t exactly know what that meant until I realized I could advocate for my patients in front of a doctor, or abusive family members. I have a strong passion for advocating for others when they can’t for themselves, and I take my care very personal. Sometimes this is a great skill, and great attribute;but other times this is terrible because I beat myself up, more than anyone ever could.

    I’m always replaying calls, and trying to figure out if I could’ve done something different. God gave me the gift of discernment, and I know when something isn’t right.

    My heart has broken over the years, and I even took a break from EMS during the pandemic, because yes, I signed up to help people, but nothing could have prepared me for the devastation that Covid brought.

    We saw folks dropping like flies, because they didn’t want to burden anyone, they didn’t want to get shipped to another state for care, and they didn’t want to have family get sick trying to help them.

    It was 8 lives, 8 people that I saw die in a two week period that broke me. I couldn’t handle that fact that I felt helpless, hopeless and like a no good Paramedic. There was not enough oxygen, not enough medicine, not enough anything to help these folks. We had oxygen but after researching Covid, I realized the alveoli that protect the lungs fills with fluid, or becomes destroyed and there is no way to get ahead of it when it starts to take over. Oxygen can’t get through, and all of the organs begin to shut down when the blood can’t get oxygen to them.

    I left, defeated and broken.

    I didn’t know who I was , I had been “Chastity , Paramedic”, for years and my identity was tied up in what I did for a living . God showed me that I was HIS, and I wasn’t putting him first, or realizing that I was just his tool-he was the savior.

    I went back to working on the ambulance about a year later with a different mindset. I pray on the way to work that God will put me where he needs me, and show me what he needs me to do. I pray for others to see God in me, and show compassion to the lowest man on the totem pole, to the highest. I don’t care if you are black, white, blue, or green. God made us all!

    I will always try my best to do whatever I can for my patients. I will always care for others just like I’d want to be treated. I have good days, and bad. I wear my heart on my sleeve, but I am always learning and reading to have the knowledge to face any task.

    When I am given a call, I look at it with one perspective, and that is that God gave me that call for a reason. I don’t always know the reason, but God does. I pray that I never grow weary of doing what he wants me to do.

    I’m so thankful, we just got the opportunity at my place of employment to join an amazing ambulance service. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that “In God we Trust!” Is on the trucks. I have the opportunity to grow, and a system in which I have equipment and supplies that will be available for me to do whatever God needs me to do.