The Table

The Table. Where the broken go to sit. They pour out their souls there. They laugh there. They cry there. They laugh until they cry there. They break there. They become whole there. The secrets that this object hold are a broad range of subjects. From relationships, to coworkers, to calls, to trauma, to healing, and beyond. The table knows everything. The accomplishments, the failures, the breakdowns, the build ups. Usually decorated with 4-6 chairs that don't match, kind of like the people that claim space around The Table.

The table, made of metal legs with an OSB/Formica top, edges peeled revealing the pressed wood underneath. With scrapes and scars of days gone past, the occasional pen mark or piece of tape stuck to it out of boredom. The random holes that aren't clearly of any use, maybe the result of someone bored with a drill, or other tool. The Table is covered in random objects that must be heavy to survive the bay winds. Pieces and parts of projects, a tablet, a towel, a bottle of hand sanitizer. Sometimes even a coffee cup that got forgotten somewhere throughout the shift. Anything not heavy enough, discarded onto the concrete and blown away under a firetruck or ambulance. 

EMS and Fire are the subject that when mentioned in public (or just recognized by the uniform and apparatus sitting outside), people say "that's a hard job, I bet you've seen some bad things..." sometimes having courage to ask "what's the worst thing you've seen?". The table hasn't seen much of anything but it hears all the stories these citizens wish you'd let them in on.

One thing that has been learned in my career is, there are many different people in this, for many different reasons. The one underlying commonality is, at some point... they've been broken. Whether it was life or the job... These people are not always okay. 

Sometimes it's the stress of administration, sometimes it's the weight of the calls, sometimes it's the tones dropping at 4 in the morning for that frequent flyer... that has been sick for 2 days and thought about calling at 15:00 hours. A MUCH MORE REASONABLE TIME... Sometimes it's home life and relationships other times it's simply grief. 

Going out into the public on someone's worst days and showing up like you completely have your shit together. To them, you know what you're doing and they may even think you can fix them and save them... but who saves you? 

I've looked up to different people throughout my short career and picked out characteristics I want to have as a provider. Education will always be at the top, followed by confidence, compassion, empathy... the list could go on and on... I've also picked out the characteristics I don't want. 

At the end of my career, I would like patients to remember me as "that ambulance driver who (fill in the blank)" but most of all I want my coworkers to respect me as they do the table. I want them to know, if things are heavy, they can sit down at the table and unload some things, I'll always listen. Whether it is personal, professional, educational, or just simply heavy... and even all of the above. I've spent countless hours at the table and always left feeling better than when I arrived. 

Realistically though, the table wouldn't be the same without the people who surround it. Different people bring different energy and different conversations. Sometimes when the door to the station shuts, all goes quiet at the table... until we know who is coming. It's like an unwritten rule of "what's talked about at the table stays at the table" and sometimes, all the things spoken about at the table aren't meant for everyone who occupies the station. 

About a year ago, a previous partner walked through the bay and looked over to find myself and another coworker sitting at the table late at night, making the comment, "y'all are going to solve the world's problems at that table..." and while both of those coworkers have moved on and solving the world's problems would be amazing... 

The Table will never tell of all the things it's heard, it will never be upset about the stains and scars left behind by those who enjoyed it's presence. It will continue to be consistent in it's state and it will forever hold the secrets and conversations that broke some and healed others. The conversations the public wants a piece of will forever reside in the silence of the table.