When I Was an EMT, We Never Got in Any Trouble if a Patient Died, But if You Scratched the Side of the Ambulance They Would Fire YouRon Riekki
When my wife asks me how my day went,
I just give her a thumbs up or a thumbs down.
She knows not to go any farther than that.
I have a bumper sticker that says,
“This is going to be a stressful career.”
I learned that we shouldn’t reach into pockets.
Instead we cut them off with shears.
I think there are two thousand drug addicts
in the region where I work.
I always forget to wash my hands for two minutes;
you’re supposed to sing.
It’s recommended that we go through
“Happy Birthday” twice.
It’s the same with CPR; we’re supposed to sing
“Another One Bites the Dust”
in our heads—it’s the perfect rhythm.
When we clean the ambulance
I’ve been told we’re supposed to wear a gown
and mask and gloves and
I know that no one does. Who has time?
95% of the people in this job—
I heard—don’t wash their hands correctly.
Shaking hands with an EMT
is like shaking hands with Death.
A kid was hanging from a tree.
I talked to the parents and he’d just got a D
on his report card. It’s
insane, this world.
If a patient says,
“I don’t want you to touch me,”
we’re not allowed to touch them.
“If a body’s over here and a head’s over there,
don’t do CPR”—my EMT
instructor used to say that all the time.
He also thinks it’s funny that
Illinois begins with “ill.” He calls it a sick state,
where every 3 minutes a person
is shot. He said after awhile you stop thinking
about other people. All you think is
I-I-I. Me-me-me. “That’s when you should retire.”
Things I Want Back Now That You’ve Left Me
Couples Like Us
Prisoner of War
POST-APOCALYPTIC YOGA, ALL LEVELS
When I Was an EMT, We Never Got in Any Trouble if a Patient Died, But if You Scratched the Side of the Ambulance They Would Fire You
Sometimes When My Wife Comes Home She Doesn't Kiss Me
This Poem is about a Small Town in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and a College I Hated in Massachusetts
Leather and Velvet