31/08/2026
BORROWED FROM ANOTHER SITE:
A lady asked me the other day why paramedics, firefighters, and police officers don’t run into scenes like they do on television.
Well, ma’am, mostly because television is written by people who believe every ambulance has twelve paramedics, every hospital has an empty trauma room, and CPR patients wake up asking what happened before the next commercial break.
We were just making small talk when she stopped, looked at me, and said, “You’re a paramedic. Can I ask you a question?”
Normally, that sentence is how I end up hearing about somebody’s rash, bowel movements, or mysterious pain they’ve had since the Clinton administration.
But I was feeling generous.
So I said, “Sure.”
She asked, “Why don’t you ever see EMS, fire, or police running into a scene? You see it on TV all the time, but you never see it in real life.”
That was actually a pretty good question.
The answer is simple.
We’re watching.
When I get out of that ambulance, I’m not just looking for the patient. I’m looking at the whole scene.
I’m watching the people standing around.
I’m looking for traffic, smoke, fire, downed power lines, weapons, loose dogs, angry relatives, suspiciously quiet relatives, and Cousin Earl pacing around shirtless while explaining that everybody needs to calm down.
I’m noticing which person is scared, which one is angry, which one is lying, and which one keeps reaching into his pockets after being told three separate times not to.
Dispatch gives us what somebody told them over the phone.
The scene gives us the truth.
If I go charging in there like a television hero with my equipment bouncing off both knees, I can’t properly study what I’m walking into. I’m also more likely to trip over a curb, bust my tail in the driveway, and turn one emergency into a group project.
Moving with a purpose does not mean running.
It means moving deliberately, paying attention, and getting where you need to go without arriving out of breath, empty-headed, or face-first in somebody’s flower bed.
There is a difference between urgency and panic.
Experience teaches you that moving faster than your brain can process the scene doesn’t make you brave. It just gets you into trouble sooner.
A first responder who becomes another patient hasn’t improved the situation. He has merely increased the paperwork and given the remaining crew something new to discuss at the station for the next fifteen years.
So no, you generally won’t see me sprinting toward a scene.
I’ll be walking quickly, watching carefully, and trying to determine exactly what kind of foolishness is waiting on the other side of that front door.
Now, if you ever do see me running, don’t stand there wondering why.
You’d better keep up.
Because whatever I just saw is probably behind you.
-- East Arkansas Paramedic
