Recognition

So many strive to get their names in the paper, or on a research paper.

Many in the public safety field were drawn to the lights and sirens and can’t seem to see past the working fires and trauma codes to see what this job is really all about: People.

If we forget why we are here we can very easily get distracted by the fancy tools and flashing gadgets at our disposal at the scene of a fire or in the bedroom of a sick person.

On a recent building inspection, my mind wandering from the exits to what’s next for #CoEMS, what I’m cooking for lunch and if I’ll get relieved tomorrow on time, I heard an unfamiliar voice call my name.

“Justin?”

She said as if decades had passed since our last embrace on a beach, or in an airport, or some other meaningful setting.

“Um, yeah…” I reply, not sure what will happen next.

A hug.

Still wondering what was happening and getting an awkward grin from one firefighter and a “You go boy!” look from another (the female I might add) I lean back, respectfully, and look in her eyes, which are tearing.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” The woman said as her co-workers were emerging from their cubicles to see why their friend was hugging the fireman.

“I’m sorry,” my mind is racing, an old friend, one of my wife’s friends, who is this woman?

“No, I…um…have we met?”

“You took me to the hospital two years ago.  My stomach hurt and you carried me downstairs and took me in.  You told the worst jokes in the ambulance,” OK, she HAS met me, “I thought it was just gas, but you were worried and it turns out I was pregnant.  She turns 1 in the fall!”

She hugged me again and I had no clue who she was, but clearly I had made an impression without doing so on myself.

That is the kind of recognition we should all be striving for and I now no longer care if I ever get my name on anything else in this world.

And no, the child was not named after me.  My officer asked that one.  Way to ruin a mood, Capt.

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4 thoughts on “Recognition”

  1. “And no, the child was not named after me.”

    Damned shame. I think “Happy Medic” is a fine name for a child, and would fit in just fine in San Francisco.

  2. “And no, the child was not named after me.”

    Damned shame. I think “Happy Medic” is a fine name for a child, and would fit in just fine in San Francisco.

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