I wish you could comprehend a wife's horror at 6 in the morning as I
Check her husband of 40 years for a pulse and find none. I start CPR anyway,
hoping to bring him back, knowing intuitively it is too late. But wanting his
wife and family to know everything possible was done to try and save his
life.

I wish you knew the unique smell of burning insulation, the taste of
soot-filled mucus, the feeling of intense heat through your turnout gear, the
sound of flames crackling, the eeriness of being able to see absolutely
nothing in dense smoke-sensations that I've become too familiar with.

I wish you could read my mind as I respond to a call, Is this a false
alarm or a working fire? How is the building constructed? What Hazards await
me? Is anyone trapped?' Or to call and ask what is wrong with the patient? Is
it minor or life threatening? Is the caller really in distress or is he
waiting for us with a 2x4 or a gun?

I wish you could be in the emergency room, as a doctor pronounces
dead, the beautiful five-year old girl that I have been trying to save during
the past 25 minutes, knowing she will never go on her first date or say the
words, 'I love you Mommy', ever again.

I wish you could know the frustration I feel in the cab of the
ambulance or engine or cruiser, the driver with his foot pressing down hard
on the pedal, my arm tugging again and again at the air horn chain, as you
fail to yield the right-of-way at an intersection or in traffic. When you
need us however, your first comment upon our arrival will be, 'It took you
forever to get here!'

I wish you could know my thoughts as I help extricate a girl of
teenage years from the remains of her automobile. What if this was my
daughter, sister, my girlfriend or a friend? What were her parent's reaction
going to be when they opened the door to find a police officer with hat in
hand?

I wish you could know how it feels to walk in the back door and greet
my parents and family, not having the heart to tell them that I nearly did
not come back from the last call.

I wish you could know how it feels dispatching officers, firefighters
and EMS out and when we call for them and our heart drops because no one
answers back or to here a bone chilling 911 call of a child or wife needing
assistance.

I wish you could feel the hurt as people verbally and sometimes
physically abuse us or belittle what I do, or as they express their attitudes
of 'It will never happen to me'. I wish you could realize the physical,
emotional and mental drain of missed meals, lost sleep and forgone social
activities, in addition to all the tragedy my eyes have seen.

I wish you could know the brotherhood and self-satisfaction of
helping save a life or preserving someone's property, or being able to be
there in time of crisis, or creating order from total chaos.

I wish you could understand how I feel finding someone's Grand Parent
or small child deep in the dark forest alone, cold and wet and giving them
back to their family safe and sound.

I wish you could understand what it feels like to have a little boy
tugging at your arm and asking, 'Is my Mommy okay?'! , not even being able to
look in his eyes without tears from your own and not knowing what to say. Or
to have to hold back a long time friend who watches his buddy having CPR done
on him as they take him away in the Medic Unit. You know all along he did not
have his seat belt on. A sensation that I have become too familiar with.
Unless you have lived with this kind of life, you will never truly
understand or appreciate who I am, we are, or what our job really means to us.

....I wish you could though.