County 911, do you need police, fire, or ambulance?
How did I become a dispatcher? A bit of luck, a bit of insanity, and some good timing.
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.
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.
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.
In other words, I was pretty good at talking to people on the phone.
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.
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.
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.
I spent my four hour observation time watching the dispatchers watch TV, read books, do crosswords, and otherwise amuse themselves. White Cloud Syndrome!
The following week, I got The Call. Come work for us!
Three weeks after the call, I started training... and that is fodder for future posts.
An inside - even intimate - glimpse into life on the other end of the phone line.
1.08.2011
1.06.2011
Routine Emergency
County 911, do you need police, fire, or ambulance?
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.
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.
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.
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:
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.
If, somehow, we keep that in mind, our handling of calls will go a whole lot better.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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:
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.
If, somehow, we keep that in mind, our handling of calls will go a whole lot better.
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.
Welcome
Welcome 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.
I'm writing this not only for you, but for me; there is a catharsis in the keyboard.
I'm no Ambulance Driver or LawDog, nor another Dennis Smith. I'm just a guy trying to get by. I hope some of you find this interesting, perhaps informative.
I'm writing this not only for you, but for me; there is a catharsis in the keyboard.
I'm no Ambulance Driver or LawDog, nor another Dennis Smith. I'm just a guy trying to get by. I hope some of you find this interesting, perhaps informative.
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