Where are my patients now?

During this Christmas I find myself looking back on this past year and the hundreds of patients I’ve come into contact with and wonder where they are now. One of the bizarre parts of my job is, you are with people during possibly the worst time of their life. You find out intimate knowledge of them. You see them in their home and varying states of undress. You see them cry, vomit, bleed, etc. And then you never see them again.

As an EMT, you follow up with patients when you can, usually when you’re back at the hospital later that day for another patient. But after that day, they disappear into the world and you have no idea whatever happens to them.

The alcoholic man who I talked with for an hour about his life and how he was going to die if he didn’t get help and detox. Is he clean now? Is he dead? Or is he still in his penthouse, lying in his own filth, drinking a fifth of Vodka every day? Did he ever reconnect with his wife?

The beaten prostitute I gave a blanket to and talked with at four in the frigid morning. Did she get outa town? Or did Linda’s pimp catch up with her? You’ll only know if you get that assault call, which are long odds.

The teenage girl who tried hanging herself? Did my words have any effect on her? I have no idea. She was a scared girl, angry with her parents. I don’t think she’ll try and kill herself again, but there’s a whole world of trouble she’ll most likely get into.

I find suicide attempts are the ones I wonder about the most. Because after that traumatic situation, they are either never going to try it again, or they’re going to go home and do it right that time. Like the father who tried overdosing on Claritin pills. He thought if he took a bunch of pills, any pills, he would die. Instead he got really drowsy. Later that day, I found out he escaped the hospital, and now he knows how to properly kill himself. Is his daughter spending her first Christmas without her father?

It’s easy to say to yourself “what’s the point?” cause, honestly, this job can be heartbreaking at times. Whether you made any difference at all, you’ll never know.

I really hope I get to meet some of these people in heaven. Maybe then I can ask them how it all turned out.

The gang banger with the gunshot wound to the head that I helped save. Did he just get shot again and killed? Or did he find retribution and kill someone else?

Perhaps it’s best not to know.

That’s the trouble with life and death. You don’t know how much of history you have changed or set in place. I have to believe that a just God is in control. I think that’s what I’m celebrating this Christmas.

A Thrill of Hope. The Weary Soul rejoices.

For Yonder Breaks. A New and Glorious Morn.