The annoying alarm went off at the same annoying time as it usually did. It even had the same annoying “tune”, if you want to call it that. I opened my eyes, looked at the clock and said “Fuck”. This was my normal work night routine as my pre shift nap came to a never long enough end. I sat up in bed and rubbed my face. Next came putting on the uniform, followed by a trip to the bathroom for the usual stuff people do in bathrooms.

All of that complete, I walked down to kitchen grabbed my lunch out of the refrigerator, put my boots on, grabbed my jacket and bag o’ stuff that I usually took with me.

The road was more or less empty as I drove in to Sorta Big City. Then again it was usually empty because people with an ounce of sense were either in bed or getting ready for bed. Normal people I’d guess you’d call them. It was dark, and would be dark for most of the shift. Winter in the North East.

The ride in to work was pretty much the same as it always was. Boring.

I pulled into the station and found a parking spot. It was shift change so the lot was more or less full. I grabbed my stuff and walked into the office. The off going crew was getting ready to head for home. We exchanged greetings, keys, and other stuff and off they went.

I walked out to the apparatus bay and started to check the equipment out. Monitor, Oxygen, airway kit, suction, IO drill, drug box, portable Oxygen, portable suction, yada, yada, yada.

My partner came out of the locker room and said hello. “What do you want to do tonight?”

“As little as possible, like most other nights.”

“Yeah, that’s not what I meant. Do you want to drive or write?”

“Oh. Well I drove last night, so it’s your turn tonight. There’ s no sense in changing things around now.”

“OK, I didn’t know if you wanted to drive, since it’s your last shift.”

So, now it was out there, as they say.

My last shift as a paramedic for Sorta Big City EMS. More than likely the last time I’d be working as a paramedic anywhere since if I wanted to stay in the field, this was one of the better places to be doing it.

“Let’s just leave it the way it is, it’s worked well up to now.”

An EMT walked by on her way to her ambulance. She stopped and said, “Is this really your last night?”

“Yeah.”

“That just seems so strange, you’ve always been here.”

“Well for you, but the place existed before me and it will go on after me.”

“Yeah, but it won’t be as much fun.”

“Maybe, but it’s just time.”

On with the routine. First coffee, no, no coffee. A call came in. A shooting only about three or four blocks away. Sigh.

That was one of the things that told me it was time to go. A while back the social aspects of the job became more interesting than the actual work. Calls started to become annoyances and distractions from hanging out and just shooting the shit with co workers, nurses, doctors, cops, or anyone else.

I looked at the call on the screen. A young man had been shot and was on the floor of his living room. That didn’t sound particularly good.

I looked up the police version of the call on the computer and saw that the requisite number of units were responding so the scene was likely to be secure.

We rolled up to the address and my partner snaked our way through the traffic jam of police cars. A BLS ambulance rolled in from the opposite direction.

We went into the house and found the patient. Who wasn’t a patient since he was now dead. A family member had thrown herself on the floor in the hallway and was crying. The crying was normal, but the rolling around on the floor didn’t seem to be normal. I asked one of the EMTs to go and make sure she was OK.

My partner and I looked carefully at the body. One bullet wound that we could find, but one was enough.

Just another dead teenager in a city where it happens all too often. With luck this would be the last shooting victim I’d ever see. I’ve certainly seen enough of them over the years, dead and alive.

We cleared, leaving the EMTs to write the report.

We got coffee, made sure that the fuel tank was topped off and went about our night.

A couple more calls, including one “valued repeat customer”. A thirty something woman who either waited too long or just had poorly controlled Asthma. Despite having treated her a number of times, I just could never figure out which it was. She got very sick very fast, so I’d guess the latter. She got a little better with CPAP and bronchodilators. Oh, and an Epi Pen as well.

A break for dinner. Some TV and than time to clean out my locker. I’d pre cleaned it a week or so before. It’s amazing the amount of junk you can collect over a long career. My career goes back to the days when a wise EMT or paramedic kept a stock of odds and ends for emergency repairs. An old habit that died hard. So hard in fact that I had a box of fittings, fuzes, spare parts for various pieces of equipment, and things that I couldn’t even identify. All of the stuff I wouldn’t need again went into a box and the box went into a supply closet. Maybe some other EMT or paramedic would adopt them for future use, but given that most people neither know nor care about fixing their own equipment it’s likely to sit there until someone gets sick of looking at it.

Everything else went into a box and then into my truck. Spare uniforms, spare civilian clothes, memorabilia from the span of my career. Some of the things in there went back to my first days on the job. In fact, the lock on the locker went back to my first year on the job. Same lock, same combination, over all those years. I closed the lock and left it on the locker. I knew who my replacement was and had promised to hold the locker for him. Lockers always seem to be in short supply, I don’t know why, but it’s always been that way.

A supervisor stopped by to congratulate me and say good bye. Another person I’ve known for years and years and yet might never see again.

Then another supervisor.

There was now about an hour left in the shift. Time for one last call. Now, months later I can’t even remember what the call was for or what the patient looked like. Like the vast majority of calls in my career there was nothing memorable about it for me. For the patient, it might have been memorable, but it was always some what surprising how blase many patients were about their medical problems. That might explain why so many of them go to the hospital so often.

While we were at the hospital, a few more crews came up to say goodbye. A couple thanked me for what I’d taught them over the years. A couple of others said that they’d enjoyed working with me. All of them wished me luck and a couple said they wished that they were able to retire. They will someday and if their experiences are anything like mine, it will be all too soon.

It went by in a flash and I wish I were young enough or could live long enough to do it all again. I’ve watched a lot of EMS history go by and been fortunate enough to be part of some of it.

We left the hospital and drove back to the station. With that, it was all over. Nothing more left to do but turn in equipment, sign some forms, and be on my way.

All over except for the part where I second guessed myself over and over. Was I really ready for this? I’m healthy, still young enough to work for several more years. Why was I retiring?

The answer is because it was time.

Looking back after several months, it was the right decision. My body is recovering nicely from the battering that EMS subjects it to. I think my mind is doing the same. I still miss my friends and co workers (or most of them), but I like having a normal social life, not living like a vampire, being home with my family. I still work, but it’s from other aspects of EMS.

I was fortunate to spend my career in a good EMS system. Looking back, I don’t know that I’d change a whole lot about that even if I could.

There’s not much more that a person can ask than that.