Lost my first patient yesterday. We did CPR on him for about 40 minutes straight, medics were there for the last 20 minutes. He was called at 17:15. My partner and I immediately went outside to cool off (we were sweating like pigs) and have a cigarette, and we started joking around about the situation and whatnot, which is the way we deal with a stressful situation. And after finishing the paperwork, we got assigned another call and we went back to our transport work. And I figured that would be the end of it (of course, only after telling the story a couple times).
But as I sit here, I can’t stop thinking about it. And how he kept looking at me. And how sad I’m starting to feel, even though he was clearly dead before we even got to him.
I guess that’s what happens with your first.
absolute favorite song. ever.
(via justbornthisway)
To any kid below the age of 12:
