tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48192626395004629122024-03-12T23:48:19.161-04:00On The ConsoleAn inside - even intimate - glimpse into life on the other end of the phone line.B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-82985580895164442552018-02-13T01:31:00.001-05:002018-02-13T01:31:09.469-05:00Tough and Competent<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i>
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Fifty-one years ago (January 27, 1967), Apollo 1 burned on the pad and killed three astronauts: Virgil "Gus" Grissom, Ed White, and Roger Chaffee.<br />
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NASA - as they do - convened an accident investigation board to see what went wrong and how it could be fixed. Before that board finished, a mere four days after the accident, Flight Director Gene Kranz assembled his flight team and made a brief speech. That speech is perhaps one of the finest examples of leadership I have ever read:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Spaceflight will never tolerate carelessness, incapacity, and neglect. Somewhere, somehow, we screwed up. It could have been in design, build, or test. Whatever it was, we should have caught it. We were too gung ho about the schedule and we locked out all of the problems we saw each day in our work.</i></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Every element of the program was in trouble and so were we. The simulators were not working, Mission Control was behind in virtually every area, and the flight and test procedures changed daily. Nothing we did had any shelf life. Not one of us stood up and said, "Dammit, stop!" I don't know what Thompson's committee will find as the cause, but I know what I find. We are the cause! We were not ready! We did not do our job. We were rolling the dice, hoping that things would come together by launch day, when in our hearts we knew it would take a miracle. We were pushing the schedule and betting that the Cape would slip before we did.</i></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>From this day forward, Flight Control will be known by two words: "Tough" and "Competent". Tough means we are forever accountable for what we do or what we fail to do. We will never again compromise our responsibilities. Every time we walk into Mission Control we will know what we stand for. Competent means we will never take anything for granted. We will never be found short in our knowledge and in our skills. Mission Control will be perfect.</i></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>When you leave this meeting today you will go to your office and the first thing you will do there is to write "Tough and Competent" on your blackboards. It will never be erased. Each day when you enter the room these words will remind you of the price paid by Grissom, White, and Chaffee. These words are the price of admission to the ranks of Mission Control.</i></blockquote>
Hell of a mission statement, isn't it? Nevermind the mission statement ... hell of a <i>leadership</i> statement. Gene Kranz recognized the power of a team. "We" pervades that speech - as well it should. Not until he's issuing marching orders does he say "you"; everything prior to that is joint ownership of the mistakes that occurred. No fingerpointing. No blame game. <i>We</i> screwed up. That, ladies and gents, is the mark of a leader, not a manager.<br />
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Strike "Mission Control" and sub in "dispatch" and consider it. We are, indeed, expected to perform with perfection. We should, indeed, strive to attain it. We shouldn't be found short in our knowledge or skills. Nevermind the one in the white shirt on the pedestal in the corner - we should take enough pride in our own job and have enough respect for our customers and ourselves to want to excel at all times.<br />
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I don't claim to be a perfect dispatcher. I make mistakes all the time. I try hard to make them one-time mistakes.<br />
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Our job tends to be one of a command structure - there are bosses and minions, and the correct answer to an order is, "Yes Sir." ... almost always.<br />
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Back when I was a hose-dragger, there were a few things drilled into me during my training, and continually through my career. One of them that continues to ride on my shoulder is this: We are ALL responsible for safety. ANYONE can - and should - stand up and say, "Dammit, stop!" when the situation requires it.<br />
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I'm well aware that many agencies don't have the kind of leadership structure that tolerates such things. You and I can change that from the bottom up. Be the example. Be the one making the right decisions for the right reasons. If you need to stray from your agency guidelines, have a solid argument in place when they come asking questions about why you did Y instead of X. If you have the right relationship with your supervisor, ask for five minutes outside when something doesn't make sense, and ask why he chose to do <i>this</i>, when you were thinking <i>that</i>. He may have a solid reason that makes sense. Be open. Listen. Learn.<br />
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Being willing to stand up may cost you your job someday. I am entirely aware of that. I don't care to lose my job, either - but I will never place my job over stopping something that may hurt or kill one of my team.<br />
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Be tough. Be competent. Be a leader.<br />
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<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-92093207067372194592017-09-11T05:26:00.002-04:002017-09-11T05:26:16.620-04:00Interoperability And You<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i>
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Oh, my, what fun. Yep, that's one of the big buzzwords up there in the title.<br />
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Interoperability.<br />
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Sixteen years ago today, it wasn't a word anyone knew. After the attacks of 9/11, it was <i>the</i> word to know in the public safety world. Being able to talk to each other was a hard lesson, learned in the hardest of ways. Around the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania, agencies couldn't talk to each other. NYPD, FDNY, PAPD, DCFEMS, DCPD, and on and on... all were working on their own frequencies, in their own bands.<br />
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Over the last decade and a half, any public safety agency doing a radio upgrade has had to work interoperability into it... and that brings some sweet sweet federal money into the pot. At a previous agency I worked for, we upgraded from a multi-site UHF system to a multi-tower trunked digital 800MHz system... and it was amazing. Talk across the county on a handheld? Absolutely!<br />
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Unfortunately, like many agencies, we took the approach of "We can, so we should." Talk groups were "free", so let's make <i>dozens</i> of them. Let's have the bus drivers talking to the police talking to the plow drivers talking to the fire department ... etc.<br />
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It took a year or two of constant pushback from the people actually using the system on a daily basis to get things back to manageable. The ability to talk between groups was still there, but it was at least a little more discreet.<br />
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And then, last week, with my current agency, I went to a multi-agency tabletop exercise. I went as a COM-L, and it was eye-opening. We collected a portable radio from each agency in attendance and started mapping out the interagency talk groups they had available. We ignored the "local" channels, which was good - one of the agencies there had over 800 talk groups programmed into their walkie-talkies.<br />
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Eight. Hundred. Every interop channel in the state was in those radios, plus several in the cross-border area.<br />
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After we worked out our communications plan, we went back to the group setting and went through an exercise critique. The point was made by another COM-L that field units needed to know how to get their radio to the correct channel, or having all these wonderful interop channels was kind of pointless.<br />
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A gentleman with brass on his collar on the far side of the room piped up and said, "No, that's what we've got you for. We hand you the radio and say 'find it'."<br />
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I looked around the room and decided to retort... "Sir, with respect, no. That doesn't work. Look around in this room. There are fifty of you and five communication folks here. You will be standing in line ten deep while we figure out your individual radios and find where a channel is, AND we have to figure out if things are labeled consistently across agencies. (They aren't.) Beyond that, your communications folks are in a dispatch center, or on call, and we won't be there for an hour or two or six while things are getting messy."<br />
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He had no clear answer for that... and this is not about "standing up to the brass". It's about making sure interoperability works if you need it, and that your radios and field personnel are well-acquainted. If your interagency plan is "Everyone goes to Region Ops 2", that's great - IF everyone knows just where that is in their radio.<br />
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If you hear through the grapevine that your agency is setting up a large scale exercise, try to be part of it. Make notes. Make points. Learn who to talk to with concerns, and don't be afraid to say "No, chief, that isn't going to work like that." ... but have a plan B ready.<br />
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<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-68385772473436065092016-08-18T04:38:00.001-04:002016-08-18T04:38:48.862-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeShgyCo75N_FkHi7Mj-tBQYSuZsWkkY-ddFVTjbwdqZ7AIS0Son4ukdJ4xLGwqAWq_nK-J6oO8tkn6CPQSduysCI_UyTfN5S0ydrOo-1SEW_hD9JzMYImeIQmHYTbFtJ3iVkJrnXE6O0y/s640/blogger-image-1645187330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeShgyCo75N_FkHi7Mj-tBQYSuZsWkkY-ddFVTjbwdqZ7AIS0Son4ukdJ4xLGwqAWq_nK-J6oO8tkn6CPQSduysCI_UyTfN5S0ydrOo-1SEW_hD9JzMYImeIQmHYTbFtJ3iVkJrnXE6O0y/s640/blogger-image-1645187330.jpg"></a></div>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-24321446845151116712016-01-13T08:30:00.001-05:002016-02-05T04:17:45.544-05:00Field NotesBefore I was dispatching, I was a nozzle nut. My department wasn't real big - we ran about a thousand calls a year - but it was all volunteer. We ran a lot of odd calls, too. Our district was a wild mix of suburban, commercial, rural, and industrial, with a divided highway to spice it up.<div><br></div><div>I ended up with a lot of memories floating around in my head, and some of them come to the forefront now and then with no apparent reason. This morning, one of them did just that.</div><div><br></div><div>I was at home, having a quiet evening to myself while my wife was out at practice. Our small garden apartment backed up to the highway, and the steady drone of traffic was pure background noise. I was just settling in for the night, had just opened a beer and fired up the PlayStation, and heard a loud bang from somewhere outside. I looked out the window, shrugged, and went back to the video game.</div><div><br></div><div>About two minutes later, the fire pager tripped from the bedroom. Two-car head-on wreck, in the southbound lanes. I looked at my barely-touched beer and headed out the door.</div><div><br></div><div>The station I responded from was a small one - we ran a rescue engine there, and I rarely had a crew on the truck with me. I shrugged into my gear as the doors went up, and headed out as soon as they were closing behind the engine.</div><div><br></div><div>As I hit the overpass for the highway, I slowed down and checked out the scene - and then went the wrong way on the highway instead of making the loop around to the next exit and approaching with traffic. The sheriff's department was already on scene and I could see traffic was stopped on the far side.</div><div><br></div><div>I pulled up at the same time as the paramedic fly car from the local ambulance service, and was getting the truck set for whatever needed doing (pump gear, circulate, drop chocks, etc). I was coming around the back of the engine and ran headlong into the paramedic, who just looked at me and said, "We need extrication. Now." I looked at what was in front of me. A mid-size sedan going one direction had gone head-on into a minivan the other direction. No deflection, no skid marks, nothing - they had gone square into each other at highway speed.</div><div><br></div><div>I opened the tailboard compartment and pulled out the Hurst combitool, fired it up and set the tips in the driver's door of the sedan. I had barely started to twist on the control when the medic grabbed my shoulder and said, "Forget it. Get the passenger."</div><div><br></div><div>I lugged the power unit and tool around the back of the car and popped that door. The passenger was very much awake and not happy with us; he had some choice words about what we were doing to the car. His foot was pinned under the dash, and by the time I had his door pried open and out of the way we had some more help on the scene. I had barely started to roll the dash up (a good trick; the relieving cut made in the bottom of the A-post is a pain with a combi-tool) when he levitated out of the car - and promptly spit on the firefighter next to me. *sigh*</div><div><br></div><div>The heavy rescue was with us by then, with a full complement of tools and the people to use them. I let them take on the extrication of the driver in the other vehicle - his minivan was pretty well beat and I was still working on the car. I caught my breath for a minute and started looking around. It's sometimes odd things that stick in your mind during these calls. I remember looking in the back seat of the sedan and seeing bags of groceries that had been in the trunk and somehow slammed through the fold-down back seats and into the passenger compartment. On top was a large jug of ERA laundry soap.</div><div><br></div><div>And under all those bags of groceries, was a child's car seat.</div><div><br></div><div>Time froze. I grabbed the seat and checked it - empty. I emptied the contents of the back seat across the highway - nothing. Under the seats? Nothing. I grabbed a couple people and we started walking back and forth through the median. Nothing. The passenger was gone to the helicopter already, the driver was simply gone ... We didn't know if we were looking for something or not. After a while of searching the median, shoulder, and roadway the chief decided there was nothing to be found.</div><div><br></div><div>The other driver was extricated and transported; the sheriff's office was starting their reconstruction efforts, and we were standing next to a body in a car. I looked over the minivan for a few minutes. A load of construction material in the back had slid in the impact and ripped both front seats off their anchors. I've never seen destruction quite like that before or since.</div><div><br></div><div>Eventually we got the okay to finish removing the driver of the sedan. The door was opened, and in due course we moved the remains to a body bag for the trip to the morgue. I'd been around dead people before; nothing new there. That was the first time I'd zipped one up, and for some reason that has stuck with me a little bit.</div><div><br></div><div>The best summary of the feeling is from a line in M*A*S*H: "It never fails to astonish me. You're alive. You're dead. No drums, no flashing lights, no fanfare. You're just dead."</div><div><br></div><div>Yeah. That about covers it.</div><div><br></div><div>We eventually did get the rest of the story on the accident. It's a case of folks doing almost everything right and losing at the last minute. No, I won't share those details, because they aren't important.</div><div><br></div><div>The empty car seat had been empty all night; the little one was with family.</div><div><br></div><div>I've looked over the pictures of that accident scene a few times since; I still don't know exactly why we only had one body bag instead of three. I don't have the photos anymore - at least not those taken with a camera. The rest ... Well, they're there for me to carry.</div><div><br></div><div>I guess I can live with that.</div>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-32941736156825528112015-12-18T00:29:00.001-05:002015-12-18T00:29:12.041-05:00Heal thyselfJust a quick note. <div><br></div><div>We pick up the phone or jump on the rig to change or save lives every day. Every single day. </div><div><br></div><div>Why won't we pick up the phone to save our own lives?</div><div><br></div><div>Code Green Campaign maintains a list of resources that are available. Please use them. </div><div><br></div><div><a href="http://codegreencampaign.org/resources/" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">http://codegreencampaign.org/resources/</a></div><div><br></div><div>I don't want to wear a mourning band again. </div>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-52126095491681747512015-06-25T02:42:00.006-04:002015-06-25T02:42:51.918-04:00<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i>
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I've got half a dozen half-written posts in the hopper here, but haven't made time to finish any of them. RealLife has been interrupting, and I've been having my own lack of enthusiasm to deal with.<br />
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Burn out is real, kids.<br />
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<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-85188001768804508462015-03-20T05:18:00.000-04:002015-03-20T05:18:23.313-04:00The pose of "Why?"<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVzJzOlJn1mL0fYNG7Sqszxuq8xU4w-I6dU2sgw0z456qdwCt8567QNFuuPpA185tZuJp9rlG7gY4ImkY16NzISGn2I0_CQbu2Cp9_-jf6TryG1mT32wbBKQ6y4aqVvgvXvBDVyHIQfDC/s1600/An+ER+doctor+steps+outside+after+losing+a+19-year+old+patient.+(Posted%2Bby%2Ba%2Bclose%2Bfriend%2Band%2Bcoworker%2Bon%2BFacebook%3B%2BWe%2Bare%2Bboth%2BEMTs)%2B-%2BImgur.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVzJzOlJn1mL0fYNG7Sqszxuq8xU4w-I6dU2sgw0z456qdwCt8567QNFuuPpA185tZuJp9rlG7gY4ImkY16NzISGn2I0_CQbu2Cp9_-jf6TryG1mT32wbBKQ6y4aqVvgvXvBDVyHIQfDC/s1600/An+ER+doctor+steps+outside+after+losing+a+19-year+old+patient.+(Posted%2Bby%2Ba%2Bclose%2Bfriend%2Band%2Bcoworker%2Bon%2BFacebook%3B%2BWe%2Bare%2Bboth%2BEMTs)%2B-%2BImgur.jpg" height="320" width="181" /></a></div>
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Originally <a href="http://www.reddit.com/r/pics/comments/2zk62y/an_er_doctor_steps_outside_after_losing_a_19year/" target="_blank">posted on reddit</a>, and linked by a former co-worker of mine. Caption: "An ER doctor steps outside after losing a 19-year old patient".<br />
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This is the pose of "Why?"<br />
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I've knelt that way.<br />
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I've seen co-workers kneel that way.<br />
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It's asking Why?<br />
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Why did I ... ?<br />
Why did he ... ? <br />
Why didn't we ... ?<br />
Why, God?<br />
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If anyone in this crazy world we work in tells you they haven't done that sometime, they're either brand-new ... or lying. <br />
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<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-25392195765454312862015-02-16T08:38:00.000-05:002015-02-16T08:38:07.754-05:00Trick Question<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i>
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An agency I interviewed with for a supervisor's position asked me a question that I hadn't heard before. "How do you feel about your employees being better at a task than you are?"<br />
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I think my answer surprised the panel, "I expect my employees to be better at a task than I am."<br />
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And then I elaborated.<br />
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A supervisor is a leader. He needs to be <i>able</i> to do every job of his subordinates, but he doesn't have to be the <i>expert</i> at each job. Leading is about knowing whom to give a job and then letting them do it.<br />
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Beyond that, a supervisor who is afraid of employees surpassing his ability will either, consciously or unconsciously, find ways to hold them back. That action is the epitome of a breach of trust in two directions. Holding an employee back from reaching his full potential is not only stealing from the employee, it's stealing from the employer.<br />
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As an employee, I have the right to expect an employer (and more specifically, my direct supervisor) to encourage excellence and whenever possible provide the tools to allow me to perform to the best of my abilities. As a supervisor, I owe my subordinates that much.<br />
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As an employer, I have the right to expect an employee (and more specifically, those with supervised staff) to pursue excellence and self-improvement. I owe them the support, whenever possible, to promote that.<br />
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If, as an employer, I found that a supervisor was intentionally preventing his staff from increasing their value to the company in order to preserve his own ego, there would be counseling and discipline.<br />
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What kind of leader do you want to be? <br />
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<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-22478266630468193922015-02-14T03:33:00.005-05:002015-02-14T03:33:44.594-05:00The Time Monkey<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i>
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This crazy job we do is a time-sensitive one. NFPA 1221 sets the "goal" times for call processing, and they are as follows:<br />
15 seconds to answer a 911 call <br />
30 seconds to transfer to a secondary PSAP (if needed)<br />
15 seconds to answer the call (this is from the time the phone starts ringing)<br />
60 seconds to process and alert<br />
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These are "best" times and should account for at least 90% of calls processed through a communications center. The standards are intended to be used for both fire and EMS call processing; law enforcement times should be set by the local jurisdiction.<br />
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Total it up. Meeting the goal time means up to two minutes of call processing before the station bells are ringing. From there, NFPA 1710 handles apparatus response times, and indicates that the first company should arrive on scene within five minutes of alert.<br />
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A lot can happen in seven minutes.<br />
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Conversation around the day-room tables in every fire department I've ever been part of or visited inevitably make a turn to the senior man saying something like, "These fires today aren't like they used to be."<br />
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Ofttimes that's blown off... You know, he's an old fart. Should've retired a decade ago. How's he even pass a physical anymore? I can't believe he's still humping hose! They're just keeping him around to bump his retirement.<br />
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Thing is, he's right. Fires today <i>aren't</i> like the fires of thirty years ago, when he was <i>literally</i> riding the back step. (Another thing that's changed in his career.) <a href="http://www.nist.gov/" target="_blank">NIST</a> does a lot of test fires in simulated rooms to study fire development and growth. Take a look at what 40 years did to fire development:<br />
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/aDNPhq5ggoE/0.jpg" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/aDNPhq5ggoE?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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Spoiler alert, below the break.<br />
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The "Modern Room" reaches flashover just three and a half minutes after ignition.<br />
The "Legacy Room" burns up the cushion, curtain, then smolders for a while, and then flares back up, not flashing over until nearly thirty minutes have elapsed.<br />
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Heck of a difference, isn't it? Fuel loads and building construction have made dramatic changes over the last two generations. <a href="http://www.firerescue1.com/fire-attack/articles/928564-Lightweight-construction-Hazards-you-should-know/" target="_blank">Lightweight trusses can fail in as little as seven minutes.</a> Fabrics, stuffings, and furniture are made of synthetics and resin-impregnated fiberboard. Long gone are the days of horsehair, muslin, cotton rag, and solid wood.<br />
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Beyond the construction, note the smoke layer development. By 1:30, the modern room has a noticeable smoke layer banking down, low enough to affect any adult standing upright - not to mention the temperature of the smoke.<br />
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Now - look back up at our call-processing and response times.<br />
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Seven minutes.<br />
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<b>A lot can happen in seven minutes.</b><br />
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How do you treat an "odor of smoke" complaint? How many times do we run the "burning odor" at the senior home, and how many times is it burned food? I'm as guilty as the next person about not always treating those calls as urgently as they deserve.<br />
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Knowing our weak spots is the first step in fixing them.<br />
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<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-38323557440933994262015-02-11T07:55:00.001-05:002015-02-11T07:55:40.036-05:00Down time<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i>
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My current agency works a 12-hour shift on a 14-day schedule. It works out to 80 hours in a two-week pay period. Thanks to working nights and commute time, on the nights I'm working, I tend to come home and go directly to bed.<br />
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I've developed a "on Fridays" habit of a half-hour or so of quiet time on the couch when I get home, often with an adult beverage at hand (yes, at 0630; it's <i>my</i> evening), just trying to come down from the last couple days.<br />
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I've heard from many people over the years, "So ... you just ... sit there and answer phones? And when the phone isn't ringing, you ... watch TV? Read? Play online?"<br />
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Anyone who's worked in this business knows just how far from the truth that statement is. Yes, we have distractions available when work doesn't need our attention - but any distraction I have at work must be something I can drop on no notice, ignore as long as need be, and get back to when I feel like it. Things like reading for comprehension and studying are right out.<br />
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I've found over the last decade that my attention span for things like movies has dwindled dramatically (although that may be a result of the utter dreck being produced these days), and books are often read a few pages at a time.<br />
<br />
Having that quiet time when I get home lets me re-focus, unwind a little bit, and do things like write this blog.<br />
<br />
What are your unwinding habits?<br />
<br />
<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-16424189387110621262015-02-03T04:54:00.002-05:002015-02-03T04:54:38.166-05:00No comment needed<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5NAVq8u7vtvFU8h0KbKLFRAOy6BaJWn4JFcKu5meg535I__zzIWoqRHQsP8yPtYP3k9lad6ymUAf8K0AA-2z_oMy07gYnkiekwPXxA3vuSI0g8u_I__iD0nFSfLsXZoSLG7pTYKKvvz4/s1600/ghosts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5NAVq8u7vtvFU8h0KbKLFRAOy6BaJWn4JFcKu5meg535I__zzIWoqRHQsP8yPtYP3k9lad6ymUAf8K0AA-2z_oMy07gYnkiekwPXxA3vuSI0g8u_I__iD0nFSfLsXZoSLG7pTYKKvvz4/s1600/ghosts.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Via the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/FireBrotherhood" target="_blank">Brotherhood of Fire</a>, photo credited to <a href="https://twitter.com/ninjamedic9" target="_blank">Paul Bagley</a>.<br />
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<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-91647506863793647752015-01-26T03:32:00.000-05:002015-01-26T03:32:02.489-05:00Uniforms<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i>
<br />
<br />
That's right, it's the hot-button topic. Uniforms. I've worked in centers with and without a uniform requirement. Short version of my opinion: uniform requirements are the way to go.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
First off, let's define the classes of uniform:<br />
<br />
<b>Class-A uniforms</b> are dress uniforms. Jacket, necktie, pressed shirt and slacks, hat, with all necessary accoutrements. Footwear is polished. Really not terribly useful for ... well, much of anything. These are banquet, wedding, and funeral uniforms.<br />
<br />
<b>Class-B uniforms</b> are "nice" uniforms. Slacks (not BDU/cargo pants), button-down shirt, brass as policy dictates. Footwear may be polished. Dressy but practical for daily activities. May be short- or long-sleeve.<br />
<br />
<b>Class-C uniforms</b> are "work" uniforms. Pants may be BDU-style or slacks, shirt may be a golf-style or a t-shirt depending on the task at hand, no brass. Footwear is duty- or work-style. Functional above all.<br />
<br />
Why uniforms? Uniforms, above all, create a sense of identity. When people in similar uniforms are put together, you're creating a <i>team identity</i>. It's not an immediate change, but people who are treated as a valued part of an organization will generally make an effort - subconscious though it may be - to further the goals of that organization.<br />
<br />
If your agency is a stand-alone center, you have the luxury of designing your own uniforms. Be reasonable. Comfort matters to someone sitting in a chair for 8-12 hours at a stretch. If your agency has field personnel, I strongly believe that communications should wear the <i>exact same uniform</i>. A different uniform only serves to underscore an all-too-common us-versus-them mentality. Building up that wall undermines the potential for some great conversations.<br />
<br />
From an administrative standpoint, uniforms take one hundred percent of the guesswork out of a dress code. Does your agency dress code say something like, "Staff shall dress in work-appropriate attire," or, "Business-casual dress is required"? People will push that. Torn or frayed shirts and pants. Questionable logos or slogans. Revealing outfits. It's tough to officially handle inappropriate workwear if the dress code is vague.<br />
<br />
If the dress code is replaced with a uniform policy, e.g., "Staff shall dress in the issued uniform for all duty hours, and uniform shall be clean and in good repair," there is no room for argument. Frayed hem? Time for a new set of pants to be issued. Stained or torn shirt? Replace it. No more "Redneck Firefighting: Find 'em hot, leave 'em wet!" t-shirts. (Yes, I have seen that in a comm center.) No more low-cut blouses. No more faded and paint-smeared jeans. People will still push - and it's on management to decide how much leeway may be allowed, always keeping in mind the "past precedent" <i>gotcha</i> that will appear in a disciplinary hearing.<br />
<br />
Visitors to the center - though few and far between they may be - are going to look more favorably on a center with uniformed staff. The increased atmosphere of professionalism provided by a uniformed staff (when we're all on our good behavior) is noticeable.<br />
<br />
Now, why <i>wouldn't</i> an agency (or work force) want uniforms? And what are the counter-arguments?<br />
<br />
Management may say it's too expensive. Nonsense. Issuing one work-week worth of Class-C uniforms (four or five shirts and trousers) to ten employees can be done for less than $2,000. (Dickie's work pants are $20, and t-shirts in large orders can be screened for $8-10. Add a sweatshirt to the set for the cold-blooded.)<br />
<br />
I've heard the argument that if uniforms are required then cleaning should be provided. Ridiculous, with one exception: if the course of your duties occasionally expose you to "nasties" (bodily fluids, carcinogens, or chemical irritants <span style="font-size: x-small;">peppersprayI'mlookingatyou</span>) then the employer should handle cleaning <i>that one uniform</i>. The rest of the time? Uniforms should be wash'n'wear with one's other personal laundry.<br />
<br />
People may claim that uniforms keep them from expressing themselves. I believe that team identity and professionalism in public safety far outweigh self-expression via clothing in the workplace. Adjust the policy to allow whatever accessories your agency deems appropriate, but the base uniform should be set.<br />
<br />
Consider work hours for uniforms. Maybe weekdays require a golf shirt, and nights and weekends can get by with a t-shirt. Maybe Mondays are "B" days and everyone is expected to dress up a notch.<br />
<br />
And last but not least ... lead by example. If you are a supervisor, manager, director, captain, chief, or head cook and bottlewasher, <i>you can not violate your established uniform policy</i>. If anything, try to exceed it. Nights wears t-shirts? Wear a golf shirt. Days wears golf shirts? Wear a "B" uniform. Make sure your uniforms are clean, shoes aren't scuffed, brass is polished, and so forth. People notice, and it does matter.<br />
<br />
<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-69192059530579700592015-01-14T05:20:00.000-05:002015-01-15T03:50:57.340-05:00Mayday<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i>
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<br />
"Mayday" is an old radio term, and is <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mayday#History" target="_blank">supposedly rooted in French</a>, "<i>M'aider!"</i>, a shortening of, "Venez m'aider" - come to help me! It's a phrase one never wants to hear outside a drill, because it means a field unit has had things go absolutely sideways. Every agency has (or should have) Mayday procedures somewhere readily accessible, and they should be clear, concise, and simple.<br />
<br />
If you haven't read them recently, do yourself a favor... go find your agency policy or procedure for mayday/officer down calls. Review them. Make sure you know them inside-out and can run that radio call without having to think about it. When our brothers and sisters in the field are having <i>their</i> worst day, it's our duty to get it right, <i>right now</i>.<br />
<br />
The accolades, handshakes, and thank-yous after the fact are wonderful, but there is no greater feeling than hearing one single sentence on the air:<br />
<br />
"Dispatch, the mayday company is clear of the structure."<br />
<br />
<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-12886395998052778842015-01-04T01:49:00.001-05:002015-01-04T01:49:07.220-05:00Help, I'm new!<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i>
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<br />
We've all been new. Some of us have been new more than once. New agency, new position, new whatever... there's something to be said for being the new guy. (But it's not the fact that you've got a whole new audience for the same tired stories.)<br />
<br />
In most every fire station I've worked in, there's been a list tacked up somewhere. On a bulletin board. On a door. Over the chief's or captain's desk. Over the urinals/on the back of the stall door.<br />
<br />
I just googled "rules for rookie firefighters" and the first half-dozen links are variations of these rules.<br />
<br />
Thing is, these rules? They're not just for firefighters. The cleanest site for them seems to be <a href="http://www.fireengineering.com/articles/print/volume-165/issue-4/features/25-tips-for-probationary-firefighters.html" target="_blank">FireEngineering</a>, and here's a sample (emphasis mine):<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
1) Respect the job. Firefighting is one of the most respected professions in our country. For every person who wears a firefighter uniform, there are at least 10 more who wish they could. As much of an honor as it is to become a firefighter, it is equally as much of a dishonor to become complacent, and those who don't care about the job are disrespectful of the profession and their coworkers. <i>Respect the job, work hard, and be proud of the profession you have chosen.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
5) Be proactive around the firehouse. Don't wait for someone to tell you what to do. As a probationary firefighter, you basically do everything. If the phone rings, answer it. If someone knocks on the door, see who it is. After lunch, volunteer to do the dishes. If you sit and watch the other firefighters doing these things, they will develop an unfavorable opinion of you early on. <i>As a rule of thumb, if you think you are not doing enough, you probably aren't. </i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
15) Leave your ego at the door. Don't think, "Been there, done that." In this profession, celebrations are short lived. <i>You (and your crew) are only as good as your next call.</i> Don't be overconfident or cocky because you had a fire on your first day. Sure, the experience will help, but remember, there is a lot to learn in this business and you will NEVER know it all. The day you think you do is the day you should consider another career.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
19) If you feel stressed, tell your officer. While on duty, you will see and experience traumatic occurrences that exceed what the average person will see on television (multiple-alarm fires, serious injuries, deaths, and so forth). In time, you will become partially immune to most of this, but you will always be affected to some degree. Some people are good at hiding their stress, but this will catch up to you and affect your personal life as well as your professional life. <i>Don't be foolish enough to hesitate to ask for help if you need it.</i></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
22) Be accountable. <i>The only person responsible for your actions is you.</i> If you make a mistake, own up to it. Your co-workers will respect your more for admitting you were wrong than they will for your trying to hide it. Accountability is also important on the fireground. If your officer asks you to do something, do it; then immediately report back to him. Freelancing at a fire is a major problem that could end up costing someone's life.</blockquote>
Yep. Pretty good start. Read the whole thing, and feel free to chime in with your own "as a newbie, you should..." thoughts.<br />
<br />
Respect is earned, not given. No one in the department is too good to scrub a pot or push a mop. Do it with a smile. Little things like making fresh coffee for the incoming shift, or (given tonight's weather) brushing off a couple extra cars in the parking lot at end of shift can go a long way.<br />
<br />
<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-38716706251854424552014-12-25T23:22:00.005-05:002014-12-25T23:22:47.989-05:00Christmas on the Console<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">7</span> And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">8</span> And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">9</span> And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">10</span> And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">
11</span> For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.<br />
<br />
Merry Christmas, all. <br />
<br />
<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-5527356722905574412014-12-02T04:53:00.000-05:002014-12-02T04:53:23.290-05:00Dispatch and home life<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i><i> </i><br />
<br />
I was single-ish when I started into this career. About a year and a half later, I met the woman who'd become my wife, so she's always known me as a dispatcher. It's been an interesting learning curve for both of us. She is not involved in emergency services, so I often try to temper my stories from work - a "good call" for me isn't necessarily something she's interested in, and I can appreciate that.<br />
<br />
<i> </i><br />
That said, I have made a significant effort over the last few years to involve her more in the day-to-day stuff that makes the hours tick by. Keeping her in the dark about what I dealt with didn't help either of us: I need to be able to share some of my daily ups and downs and she needs<i> </i>to know why I came home in a mood tonight.<br />
<br />
How can I share enough without sharing too much? This one is a little trickier to balance, and means honest communication between you and your partner. You need to be able to trust your partner to listen <i>and</i> be able to tell you when s/he has had enough... and <i>you have to respect that limit.</i> I tend to share my workday slowly, and watch my wife for reactions as I talk. When it seems like she's either losing interest or getting a little iffy about the things I'm sharing, it's time to wrap up.<br />
<br />
If you've been around this world for any length of time, you already
know that things like holidays and birthdays are just another date on
the calendar. Thanksgiving? I don't remember the last one I didn't work.
Ditto Christmas, particularly if a coworker with children or
grandchildren asked me to cover.<br />
<br />
Short-notice overtime
and shift holdovers are a fact of life, and they can be rough on a
relationship. Missed dinners, cancelled appointments... these things
happen all too frequently for people who live in a 24-7 world.<br />
<br />
So how to fix it?<br />
<br />
We
make time. I was working this Thanksgiving. We met with family the next
day for dinner, because truthfully - the holiday is not the date. It's a
time to come together and celebrate with loved ones. It's a time to
acknowledge what we have. (And maybe watch a bit of football as we
digest our share of a twenty-pound bird.)<br />
<br />
We do little
things for each other. She writes me sweet messages on the bathroom
mirror to see when I wake up for work. I try to make sure the
coffeemaker is ready to go for her when I leave for work.<br />
<br />
Given how precious time off is for us, make the most of it. It doesn't have to be expensive. Trent Hamm at <a href="http://thesimpledollar.com/">TheSimpleDollar.com</a> has <a href="http://www.thesimpledollar.com/plan-a-romantic-free-date-267365/" target="_blank">a great cheap-date post</a>. Most importantly, once you've committed to doing something, make every effort to keep that commitment. If you have plans to go to the park with your spouse and work calls for overtime ... say no. Work to live, don't live to work. <br />
<br />
I will leave you with one recommendation on a book to read regarding emergency work and relationships: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1593850638/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1593850638&linkCode=as2&tag=preparifordis-20&linkId=7WNRIBLF4YJRSUB3">I Love a Fire Fighter</a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://ir-na.amazon-adsystem.com/e/ir?t=preparifordis-20&l=as2&o=1&a=1593850638" height="1" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" /> by Ellen Kirschman. It's a good read for you, and a better read for your partner. (Grab one of the used copies to save a few bucks.)<br />
<br />
<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-16384346586879861262014-11-30T23:57:00.003-05:002014-11-30T23:57:54.736-05:00Mental Health and emergency services<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i><i> </i><br />
<br />
Over on the <a href="http://www.ems1.com/ems-news-1/articles/2025519-Inside-EMS-Podcast-Mental-health-initiatives-need-agency-support/" target="_blank"><i>Inside EMS</i> podcast</a>, <a href="http://www.ambulancedriverfiles.com/" target="_blank">Kelly "Ambulance Driver" Grayson</a> and Chris Cebollero discuss (among other things) mental health in EMS responders. This is a topic I find near and dear, and one that is rarely discussed in the break room or around the dinner table in the day room. <br />
<br />
We have to change this. Not just for field personnel, but for every person in the chain of response.<br />
<br />
"What are we not doing for our peers that we're losing these folks in the long run?" Chris asks.<br />
<br />
Kelly says, "We're not doing enough as agencies, as peers, not doing enough ourselves in confronting the problem. We want to de-stigmatize mental illness, depression, and PTSD among EMS providers so that people will - rather than do themselves harm - will realize that seeking help and reaching out is not a sign of weakness: it's a sign of strength"<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.apcointl.org/" target="_blank">APCO</a> and other organizations often trot out the, "First first responders," line. (My personal feeling is that the phrase is a bit self-aggrandizing, but the concept is sound.) If you've spent any length of time in this world, you've had A Call. Most of us have more than one. I can look back over the last twelve years of volunteer field time and ten years on the console and pick out an easy half-dozen calls that have stayed with me for one reason or another.<br />
--------------------------------------------------------<br />
One of those incidents was a juvenile homicide. I took the call, which was just <i>off</i> initially - it was reported as a general illness. I sent a response - an upgraded response, actually, because I trusted my gut - and moved on with my shift. The ER called later in the evening to ask for the investigator's name handling the homicide, and that's when it hit me. I spent the remainder of the shift second-guessing how I'd handled the call, stewed about it that night when I was at home, and the next evening when I got to work I was asked if I wanted to attend the Critical Incident Debriefing with the law, fire, and EMS personnel who'd responded.<br />
<br />
Nevermind the inflection and headshake my manager gave me as the question was asked; I was early in my career and I was still invincible. Me? A <i>mental health</i> debriefing? Perish the thought. Beyond that, I felt I'd have been an outsider. I'd just answered a phone and punched a few tone pairs... how could that match up against doing pediatric CPR?<br />
<br />
I was wrong.<br />
<br />
Write this down and remember it: <i>I am as much a part of the call as the crews on scene.</i><br />
<br />
We hear the pain and anguish of a caller. We try to coach a distraught family member through the first few minutes of CPR. Very few of us ever get the closure of a crew in the field <i>knowing</i> that everything that could be done, was done. (For the field providers who might read this, please understand that this isn't a question of trust - I believe you are all doing the best you can for every patient. Knowing something is being done and <i>knowing</i> are two different things.)<br />
<br />
In the intervening years, I've hashed that call out with a handful of peers. I've replayed the call a thousand times in my head. Every person I've talked with says I didn't do anything wrong. Every time I wonder if there was some cue I missed, I hear the call again ... and I didn't.<br />
<br />
I've accepted this. I handled the call right. There was nothing I could do that would have changed the patient's outcome.<br />
<br />
Would someone please tell that to the ghosts?<br />
--------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
Kelly and Chris are right. We aren't doing enough.<br />
<br />
I've learned to handle my demons most of the time. I changed departments and picked up a few new ones in short order. I share some of the calls with my loved ones, and I occasionally do raise a glass to the ones I couldn't save.<br />
<br />
I've started taking walks at work when something hits me wrong. It's not weak to ask someone to cover your lines for fifteen minutes while you walk away. If you need more than fifteen minutes, take it. Take a shift. Talk to a coworker. Talk to a therapist. Talk to a chaplain. If your department has a CISM team, don't be afraid to use it. If your department doesn't have a CISM team and/or EAP and/or chaplain, take some initiative and find out where to get those services.<br />
<br />
And above all, don't be afraid to reach out to each other. If someone takes a rough call, invite them for a cup of coffee after shift. Let them take the conversation where they will. Sometimes, all we have to do is be there. <br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-34101642413049534642014-11-24T08:19:00.001-05:002014-11-24T08:19:37.566-05:00Slow start<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i><i> </i><br />
<br />
I have a laundry list - literally pages long - of topics I'd like to cover in the coming entries. Some of it will be management-oriented, and some of it will be dispatcher-oriented... and some of it will be public-oriented.<br />
<br />
It's going to take a while as I find free time to sit and write a post that feels "right" to me. <br />
<i> </i><br />
If there's something you'd like to see me discuss in these pages, let me know. If I can, I will.<br />
<br />
<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-46506042859893532782014-11-21T06:30:00.000-05:002014-11-21T06:30:03.404-05:00Stroke Signs<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i><br />
<br />
This post was prompted by <a href="http://injennifershead.com/?p=6210" target="_blank">a similar one written by a friend</a>.<br />
<br />
A stroke is a no-foolin' life-changing (or life-ending) emergency. In short, a stroke is a brain attack: some portion of the brain stops receiving blood (and thus oxygen) due to a blockage of some kind. Precisely where the blockage happens and how soon it's cleared determines the type and severity of damage.<br />
<br />
Know the signs:<br />
F - facial droop<br />
A - arm weakness<br />
S - speech problems<br />
T - time to call<br />
<br />
Any one of the first three is a strong hint of a stroke. A combination of two or all three? We've gone from "hint" to "flashing neon signs", and now <em>time is critical.</em><br />
<br />
Thrombolytic therapy (super-duper clot-busting drugs) is the best therapy for most strokes, and the generally-accepted window for getting the thrombo's into the patient is three hours from the onset of symptoms. After that, damage seems to be pretty permanent.<br />
<br />
If you're having signs of a stroke, the time to call is <em>right now</em>. Not at half time. Not after Thanksgiving dinner. Not after you've showered and dressed. Right. Now.<br />
<br />
<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-53342929305797722162014-11-20T23:46:00.000-05:002014-11-20T23:46:02.916-05:00A quick note on privacy<i>911, what is the address of the emergency?</i><br />
<br />
I am extremely conscious of the restrictions that HIPAA places on me. I will share some of the details of some calls in the future... but I'm not going to get into city or state. I will not write posts immediately after an incident, won't give a date, and I'm going to change things that aren't generally relevant or may otherwise identify an incident or patient... because <em>you don't need to know.</em><br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Call me back right away if anything changes.</i>B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-68765313923414568332014-11-20T23:08:00.002-05:002014-11-20T23:08:28.263-05:00Welcome back<i>County 911, do you need police, fire, or ambulance?</i><br />
<br />
After a far-too-long hiatus, I'm reviving my efforts at this blog. There has been a lot of life intervening in the nearly four years since I first got the idea.<br />
<br />
I've got a lot of entries on my mind. Don't touch that dial!B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-65929830537052218382011-01-08T09:18:00.001-05:002011-01-09T19:07:16.468-05:00It begins...<i>County 911, do you need police, fire, or ambulance?</i><br />
<br />
How did I become a dispatcher? A bit of luck, a bit of insanity, and some good timing.<br />
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I left college after my sophomore year because I was miserable. I had been in a nationally-known engineering program, and realized that engineering wasn't where my future lay. Not that I was incapable of doing the work, but it bored me to tears. When I approached my academic advisor with my concerns, the answer I got was essentially, "Oh. Well, ok. That's tough." No suggestions of career counseling, or other programs I might consider.<br />
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Since my school had made it clear they were not terribly interested in keeping me around, I made some hard decisions and filed my withdrawal papers. I considered joining the armed forces, and nearly did so - I was in the recruiter's office with pen in hand staring at the enlistment forms when I changed my mind. Instead, I decided to take a chance and strike out on my own.<br />
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Right off the bat I found a job and an apartment. I worked in high-end retail for the next eighteen months, until my employer pulled his shingle and closed the doors. I spent a month on the dole, applying and interviewing for jobs. I was hired by a medium-size software company and spent the next several years doing tech support.<br />
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In other words, I was pretty good at talking to people on the phone.<br />
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Along the way, I had joined my local volunteer fire department, and one of the assistant chiefs suggested I take the dispatch exam. I met the posted requirements, and it would be a bit more money than I was making. I had found that the emergency world fit my personality, and this seemed to be a pretty good way to actually make a living doing it.<br />
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I signed up for the next test, and took it. Results came out in the standard "six to eight weeks". Score: 95. Rank: 1. I was ecstatic; I knew there were openings at the time and figured I had a pretty fair chance of making it. Unfortunately, the hiring gods were not smiling; the county decided to take several lateral transfers from other areas in an attempt to minimize training time and costs. Back I went to the trenches of software, but I made sure I answered every canvas letter and kept my resume and references updated.<br />
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Just over a year later, I got the call for an interview. I put on my nice suit, printed up everything I'd need, and went in, trying hard to hide the nerves I was feeling. The interview seemed to go well, though. A week later I was asked to come in and do a "sit-along" to get a feel for how things work.<br />
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I spent my four hour observation time watching the dispatchers watch TV, read books, do crosswords, and otherwise amuse themselves. White Cloud Syndrome!<br />
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The following week, I got The Call. Come work for us!<br />
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Three weeks after the call, I started training... and that is fodder for future posts.B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-18112071544987907692011-01-06T21:42:00.001-05:002011-01-09T19:03:36.308-05:00Routine Emergency<i>County 911, do you need police, fire, or ambulance?</i><br />
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I couldn't begin to imagine the number of times those words have left my mouth. It's our profession's equivalent of, "Would you like fries with that?" We don't even hear the words anymore, but it's not important that we hear them.<br />
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We have to hear what comes next, though. The next few seconds of a call can tell you what the tone of the entire incident is going to be. Consciously or unconsciously, a good dispatcher is listening to the non-verbal cues pouring through their headset. Background noise. Tone. Pace. Phrasing.<br />
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After a year or two it's easy to become jaded. We've heard most of it, dispatched as much, and found that there is often a significant gap between what we're told and what our responding units find when they arrive. It's all too easy to fall into the trap of complacency, or worse yet, predisposition. "Mrs. Jones has called six times in the past month for chest pain; I'll just keep clicking through my game of Solitaire while I ask the routine questions." Somewhere around "red ten on black jack" you realize that Mrs. Jones has just told you her husband is unresponsive. Suddenly it's time to back up and try to recall what she's been mumbling in your ear for the past minute or two.<br />
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I've trained more than a handful of new dispatchers. Among the other little trinkets I try to impress on them is the one thing I always keep in the back of my head:<br />
<i>It's just another call for me, but for the caller, it's the worst day of their life. No call is a routine call for them.</i><br />
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If, somehow, we keep that in mind, our handling of calls will go a whole lot better.<br />
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I said it's easy to get complacent. After five or ten years it's no longer complacency, it's cynicism. After that - well, I'll let you know if and when I get there.B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4819262639500462912.post-27012074049570585862011-01-06T21:12:00.002-05:002011-01-09T19:08:34.457-05:00WelcomeWelcome to "On The Console". After years of ridin' pine as a 911 dispatcher, I decided it was time to start sharing some of the things I've heard and experienced over the years.<br />
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I'm writing this not only for you, but for me; there is a catharsis in the keyboard.<br />
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I'm no <a href="http://ambulancedriverfiles.com/">Ambulance Driver</a> or <a href="http://thelawdogfiles.blogspot.com/">LawDog</a>, nor another <a href="http://www.firehouse.com/">Dennis Smith</a>. I'm just a guy trying to get by. I hope some of you find this interesting, perhaps informative.B. Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07461939490648940505noreply@blogger.com0