A day in the life Rescue work is more than a job
A day in the life
Rescue work is more than a job
ALTAMONT Warren Quinn was one of the first people on the scene after a boy was hit while skateboarding on a country road. He wanted to help, but didnt know what to do.
That was 20 years ago. Now, Quinn is on the Altamont Rescue Squad; he joined soon after the accident.
Altamonts rescue squad is one of the oldest in the state, said Bob Casey; it started out as an extension of the fire department. For a period, the squad used a hearse for its ambulance. Its picture hangs on the wall in the rescue building with photos of other ambulances of the past.
I had plenty of time to look at the picture and absorb the squads history when I spent a 12-hour shift last Thursday with a crew of volunteers and paid workers.
The days of makeshift ambulances are gone, now, the squad has two well-equipped vehicles to use.
"It’s a portable hospital," said Norman Bauman, a volunteer with the squad, as we rode in the back of the ambulance.
The Altamont squad is a basic life support service, BLS. "We just got permission to carry aspirin," said Bauman.
Members of the squad are required to go to lectures in order to keep their credentials current, Bauman said. Last Thursday, a handful of members attended a lecture on strokes that was given at the Guilderland Town Hall.
Like typical students, these grown men didnt sit in the front row, but brought chairs to the back before sitting down to learn about the brain. Once underway, they chimed in with tales from the field and answered questions from lecturer Jonathan Halpert.
It’s hard to leave the things that happen on a shift at work, said Kevin Dunnells, who has been on the Altamont squad for several years. "It’s hard not to take it home with you." He once had a call for a four-month-old baby who ended up dying of cardiac arrest; his own daughter was 1 year old at the time.
Working as an emergency medical technician, an EMT, can also be hard on a marriage, he said. An Altamont Rescue Squad shift is 12 hours, from six to six.
"I’ve heard that EMS breaks up marriages," he said. "When you spend 12 hours a day with someone, things can happen." He quipped that EMS could stand for Extra-Marital Sex.
Dunnells is married to another EMS worker, and he has tattoos, one on each arm, with his childrens names.
Many calls come in, he said, because people are looking for companionship. "I remember when I started, the calls on the holidays," he said. "People were just lonely."
One call came in during the 12 hours that I was riding with the squad. Around 2 a.m. a woman called in a non-emergency situation. Bauman, Dunnells, and Dante Smith, dutifully got out of bed, put their shoes on, and took the woman to the hospital.
They are a group of people who are ready to help, but, Dunnells said, if there were a service that people could call and talk to someone for 20 minutes, half of the people wouldnt end up going to the hospital.
"It’s depressing," said a paramedic, of some of the patients he’s met. "You go into environments that you never normally would."
Despite some of the situations they encounter, the rescue workers are a group of people who take pride in what they do.
Sitting on the back of the ambulance after bringing the woman to the hospital, Bauman said with satisfaction in his voice, "While everyone else is sleeping, here we are at two in the morning, working."
