Life as I know it (for now)

What does it take for five people to come together? How much time until they realize their purpose and can find the courage to act on it? What if it was spontaneous? What if the time you were given to decide to act, to move, to live - was the time it takes for eleven tones to echo through a hallway - in the flurry of boots, suspenders and throwing coats and helmets and masks - the rumble of diesel ignitions and automatic bay doors - the decision is made. In the back of the truck amidst fastening airpacks, grabbing flashlights, listening to garbled radio traffic - the decision is made to do something. I'm thinking as I stare out the window at the world rushing backwards, red strobe lights throbbing through my eyes - I'm thinking of what I have to do...kick the door, dismount the truck, re-tighten the airpack, find the tools...which tools...halligan, axe, the irons pack...will I be ordered to take the hydrant - grab the wrench, the appliance, wrap the hose...injuries, we'll need the O bag, maybe a backboard and straps, heart monitor, medbox...

We're on scene - I'm here there's fire in the building, flames bursting from the garage...We made the decision together to get on the truck, to come here - our masks are on, our voices distorted -and the order comes down to go in the house and search for victims. Again things move quickly and I'm stretching safety hose to take with us, we kick open the door and smoke boils out - we can't see anything. Even as we dive to our knees and rush inside, as I follow my officer and yell at the man behind me to keep feeding me hose, the thought crosses my mind that this is crazy. I'm doing it - I've entered the door and am taking about as much risk as my decision process can take me to. I can't see anything, the battery in my flashlight just went dead and my officer is moving faster then I can keep up with. We're inside for maybe 5-6 minutes before going to the basement and doing it again. We didn't find anyone - everyone got out. In retrospect it's strange how little thought anyone gave to the risk we were about to take. Granted there's not exactly spare time to collect your thoughts on a fire scene, but still...there was no huddle, no whispered prayer, no last minute instructions. It was just....go. We all expected to be fine and to come out of that house with no problems. And we did.

In Recruit School someone told us that when a rescuer brings out a victim alive from a fire it is all over the news and he is called a hero. He is what people picture when they think of a fireman. However, his courage is no greater, his risk no more real then that of those countless firefighters who enter a burning building everyday to search for victims who are not even there.

I am addicted to this job - I am addicted to trying to become better at this job. Almost everything plays second chair to working...I can't fathom not going on as many calls as I can - because somehow I think that there will be a call when my involvement could be crucial so I have to be there. Maybe it's a rookie thing and I will get over it, and realize that the calls will never stop coming, the tones never stop ringing, the adrenaline never stop flowing.