Written By John Face
November 25, 2023
Before you read this understand, this is a graphic story. Please don’t read beyond this point if you are easily disturbed.
PTSD
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD, has become a common phrase. Most people associate it with military veterans due to dealing with the horrors of war. Unfortunately, over the last few years, more and more have claimed it, primarily due to inaccurate internet diagnosis, and the disease has lost its real meaning. The truth is a correct diagnosis requires clinical evaluation by a psychiatrist.
Many don’t know it’s common for those in the Emergency Services. Police, firefighters, and Emergency Medical Service workers suffer from this wicked disease. I was clinically diagnosed with PTSD years ago while I worked as a Paramedic. I finally decided to share my story about my PTSD again. I hope that you will truly understand the pain, fear, and sadness that is part of this disease.
Never Say it – You Will Pay the Price
I had a long career as a Paramedic and firefighter—almost 25 years of working the streets. In the business, we never said I’ve seen it all because if you did, Mother Nature has a funny way of smacking you back to reality. I saw the best and worst of humanity. I saw the ugly things people could do to each other. I saw the wonder of a new life. That’s how my career went. I was a seasoned hard ass and went with the flow.
Then, that fateful December night was the end of normal for me.
911 What’s the Emergency
It was the late evening when the call came in. I had been on hundreds of accident calls; some died, most lived; it was just another call, right? I would never be more wrong in my life.
A tree sat 50 yards off the highway down a steep embankment. Not another tree or anything else within a quarter mile, literally. A pickup truck sat near it, and as we walked up, I realized that the truck was wrapped around the tree on the passenger side. I got a bad feeling deep in my gut. I never liked that feeling. Never.
Not Kids
In the front seat were four kids. Yeah, kids. The youngest is 13, and the oldest is 19. One of the kids was dead; he sat on what was left of the passenger side of the truck. On his lap, a 17-year-old girl was pinned between the wreckage of the truck dashboard and the tree. She was alive. The driver is in his seat, alive and talking. And, under all of them, laid a 13-year-old girl. She was the sister of the 17-year-old; I would find out later.
The 13-year-old was injured but awake and talking. She was pinned under her sister and the dead boy, who both sat on her. After getting the driver quickly out of the truck, it was time for us to get to work. That is when I heard her. My 17 year old spoke. I was shocked because I thought she was unconscious. I told her who I was and that we would get her out. She asked, “Where is my sister?” I told her, and her sister spoke up, telling her she was okay.
One of my firefighters, Al, joined me on the truck’s hood, and another was with the 13-year-old until another ambulance arrived. Al and I told our girl (the 17-year-old) we were here and not leaving. She said thank you, “I am scared.” We constantly told her we were here and not leaving. We were treating her the best we could. Most of her body was covered by the truck. Only her left arm, side, and head were out where we could touch her.
Send Rescue, We Have a Pin In
The following 25 minutes were incredible. As men and women of two fire departments desperately worked to free these girls. Piece by piece, they tore this truck apart, with one goal of saving “our” girls’ lives. I would treat her and make two phone calls to my Emergency Room during this time. I was letting them know what we were facing. Dr. Glen, a flight doctor when not in our ER, spoke to me that night in a way I never heard him speak before. He must have heard in my voice that this grizzled, seasoned Paramedic was scared. He said, “You are doing great, John, keep fighting”.
The Firefighters Were The Best
I can honestly tell you. I was proud of my firefighters that night. This was a brutal accident to work as they showed me why they were the best. During this time, my 17-year-old girl kept talking to Al and me, telling us about the fun evening at the concert they attended and were on the way home from, about how she loved her sister. We stroked her face, and she smiled. I held her hand. I told her, “Sweetie, I love you; just hang in there.”
Tell Mom and Dad I Love Them
Then she told me, “John, I hurt.” She then looked at me and said, “Tell Mom and Dad I love them.” Her head fell to the side. I tried to feel a pulse, but none. I listened to her side but couldn’t hear. I yelled out for quiet. The jaws of life fell silent; no one spoke as I used my stethoscope to listen to her heart—complete silence along this interstate. The silence was frightening.
I listened; I heard nothing. My little angel, whom Al and I promised to save, left us forever.
I would be told later at that moment when she left us, my head fell toward my chest. Nearly 30 firefighters, police, and other medics fought back tears, utterly unaware of anything else. One of our officers yelled out to get back to work, and my firefighters worked another 10 minutes before we could get both girls out.
PTSD – A Medics Journey
So began my life with PTSD. Over the years, I have come to understand that I couldn’t change the outcome of this situation. I know that I did my best. We saved two of the victims. I went to counseling. It was there, working with a psychiatrist and Bill Heffernan, a counselor, a former cop, firefighter and EMT, that I began to learn about PTSD. He helped in so many ways.
The dreams never go away for me. I learn how to deal with my emotions. Anxiety attacks, depression, and fear. The most simple things can trigger all this: a song, a movie (The movie Signs starring Mel Gibson, the last scene by the car), a smell. You never know. Then sleep becomes your enemy because that’s when the dreams creep in and take over your mind.
I go to counseling on and off for what I call tune-ups. Though because of my counseling, I have fewer episodes, they still happen. This time of year is significant, as the accident occurred in early December. I recently had another episode and have been dealing with my emotions. I am not afraid to say that. It helps.
Get Help
The holidays are tough on people, and suicide rises. Please understand that no matter how bad you may feel, options and help are available. Taking your life helps no one. Your family and friends suffer forever. I share my story so you understand there is no shame in saying I need help. I need help, no shame here, none.
If you are feeling depressed talk to someone, a trusted friend, loved one, professional. Call 988 or 911 for help and how to receive help. Do whatever it takes to save your life.
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