Search This Blog

Thursday, November 22, 2012

When she was a little girl...

by Steven P. Velasquez
November 22, 2012


Nicolette, my first born (now 16)
When she was a little girl, every holiday was celebrated at her grandparents' house.  Whether we were up in the Pocono's with Pop Pop and Grandmom or in Rutherford at Abuela and Abuelo's house.  Regardless,  the food was always delicious, the house warm and the family -- beloved.




Abuela's Thanksgiving ham

When she was a little girl, I used to hold her little hand and cross her across this street. 

Today, for the first time, 
I watched her park her mother's car in front of Abuela's house.

When she was a little girl, I used to pick her up out of her child seat from my vehicle and throw her over my shoulder with a blankie.

I'd hold her close and listen to her breathe while protecting her from the cold.  Today, she lets herself in and out of the car on her own, and from the driver's seat (no more booster).

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Ambulance Aides Mourn Loss

Ambulance Aides Mourn Loss

by Steven P. Velasquez, MICP
November 20, 2012

The headline above is a direct  stab at the irresponsible media outlets that have had over thirty five years to learn who we, in the Emergency Medical Services (EMS), are.  It appears that even if we sacrifice our lives (or have them taken from us), these drones, who insist on ridiculous politically correct terms for everyone but us, can't get it right. We are not ambulance attendants, ambulance aides, stretcher tenders, ambulance drivers or, as we were so shamefully bunched during the attacks of September 11, 2001 - first responders.  We are your municipalities third service. We are an extension of the hospitals. We are mobile health services. We are Emergency Medical Technicians (EMT), Paramedics (MICP) and Registered Nurses (R.N.'s).  We are an essential part of the trinity of public protection, Police, Fire and EMS.  We have earned that distinction through sacrifice, compassion and service to mankind and sometimes we earn it with our blood or ultimate sacrifice.  During this past week, our service has been dealt several devastating blows and now we have lost one of our brothers.

The following is an attempt to journal a sad page in EMS history that is currently being written here in Newark, New Jersey's largest city. 

An unfortunate series of events unfolded Monday, November 19th as shots rang  out, lives were lost, police cars crashed, Troopers gave chase through busy daytime traffic, and a fleeing suspect vehicle crashed into an ambulance killing 30 year-old Keith Chipepo, an EMT working for Grand Medical Transportation (GMT) of Irvington, NJ.  Chipepo was reportedly ejected from the patient compartment of his ambulance while caring for a patient who fortunately was strapped to a stretcher and thus left uninjured.  Chipepo's partner, who was driving, is reported to have sustained fractures to several extremities, but has been released from the hospital and is expected to make a full recovery.

Tuesday night, several EMS agencies visited a make-shift memorial at the intersections of South Orange Ave. and South 9th St., where the fatal multi-vehicle collision occurred.  Agencies that can often appear polarized (transport vs. 911 services), though we carry the same certifications, set aside petty differences and parked their vehicles silently beside a humble roadside memorial made of candles, balloons, some memorabilia and a water colored painting to Daddy, -- from Chipepo's children.


Roadside memorials are all too common a sight in the Brick City.  They mark where families are destroyed, lives are lost and pain remains.  This humble site will soon be removed as time waits for no one and vigils pass in a single breath.

Paramedic Nicole Ackerman (UHEMS) looks over the memorial
EMS agencies from Union Township, MONOC, Elizabeth F.D. EMS, GMT (Grand Medical Transport), Guardian Ambulance, Nationwide Ambulance, LifeStar, Madison Coach and several units from University Hospital's EMS Dept. each stopped and paid respect to the memory and the sacrifice made by EMT Keith Chipepo.

This is the second fatal accident in a week involving the NJ State Police and EMS personnel.  The first occurred on Saturday Nov. 10th at Central and Norfolk Streets where a chase that originated on Rte. 280 spilled onto local streets, crashed into a UHEMS paramedic unit and killed an innocent pedestrian, also in his thirties and also of Montclair, NJ.  This author was the driver of that ambulance.  

To receive news of a second collision with such similar circumstances, in the same place has shocked many.  Some, who believe in bad things happening in threes, are waiting for the next devastating blow.  We hope this does not happen and pray for all affected by these recent tragedies. 

Funeral arrangements for EMT Keith Chipepo are forthcoming.  To anyone in emergency services, we ask that you please attempt to be there.  Show Keith's family and children how much he is loved and appreciated and that his life, in the service of mankind is worth something and will not be forgotten.

Rest In Peace Brother - Your work here is done. Last alarm 19th November 2012.
A Thanksgiving turkey made with watercolors, glued feathers and his children's names
 




Sunday, November 11, 2012

MIC 3 Give Me the Air!


MIC 3 Give Me the Air!

(pronounced as mick)



by Steven P. Velasquez
November 11, 2012


"MIC 3 Urgent!! Give me the air!!" 

(A paramedic's voice panting and confused, only able to process the name of one of the two intersecting streets they're on)  

"I'm on Central and... (long pause) 
I'm just east of 1st Street....  (another pause) 
MIC 3 I'm on Central Ave...." (radio silence)

Dispatcher - "Units clear the air! MIC 3, your location!?  Are you injured!?" 
(The sound of a microphone keying up, but only labored breathing is heard).  

Dispatcher - "MIC 3 repeat your last!!"

This is the kind of radio transmission that no one in public safety wants to hear.  A unit, clearly in distress and disoriented is calling for help but can't clear their thoughts enough to articulate a clear message.  Their vehicle has been struck by another, at a high rate of speed and redirected into a tree.


Green means it's safe right?
Paramedic educator / legend John Nichol is said to have told his students;

 "The most dangerous place to be in Newark, is at a green light."  

 He told them this truism because of the ridiculous amount of auto-theft and subsequent collisions that follow from joy riding, to car-jacking, to police pursuits.  Last night, Nichol's pearls of wisdom proved true for this author in particular.



While traveling to our post (a designated street corner where we await disaster and mayhem), we slowly rolled down a street and proceeded through a light-controlled intersection (and yes, my light was in fact, GREEN!)  when my attention was immediately turned left by the sound of a siren.  By the time I looked and saw a New Jersey State Trooper chasing a fleeing vehicle, it was too late.  The suspect vehicle struck my unit across the front and redirected us into a tree along a curb.

I could hear the subsequent impact of the suspects' vehicle followed by the commanding screams and shouts of the Troopers taking down the perps.  What I couldn't do was get out to see or help or anything.  By the sounds of things, it would only be a few seconds before I heard a hail of gunfire and with my vehicle disabled, I'd have nowhere to go but down and pray the gunfight didn't come our way.  I thought of three things only; breathing, my partner Nicole, and my children.  My partner (Nicole) assured me she was okay and directed her attention to me. I tried to focus on wrapping my head around what was happening and also trying to remain conscious.

 

The Response



SOG was returning from a Super-Storm Sandy detail
401, 410, Rescue 1, 1201, 1203, MIC 4, MIC 1 and SOG (Special Operations Group) members returning from assisting the victims of Super-Storm Sandy all came to help us. If it had a motor and worked, it was on the way; and I'll admit, I have never been so happy to see their faces.

Within a flash of light, a hostile transfer of energy, mass, velocity, force and direction, I was struck by the bad guys' car and thus transformed from caregiver to patient.  My cape had been stripped, my light saber dimmed and no longer could I leap tall buildings or fly.  I was hurt, confused and in the gentile hands of my co-workers, my beloved brothers and sisters.


I must admit they look a lot different from beneath.  I saw all their faces.  I saw them look into my eyes, some stroked my hair. They held my hand and coached my breathing and assured me all would be well. We've danced this dance a thousand times, but I'm always beside and not beneath.  They treated me according to best practices and they allayed my fears as we traveled to the hospital.  Later, two by two, the units marched into my room, offered help and wished me well.  Some helped coordinate my family's arrival at the E.R. (a great help).  I could ask for no better group of people to call my co-workers, to call my family.

Long story short is this:
  • My partner and I were treated and released at the local trauma center.  
  • Bad guy 1 has broken the law and is now in custody.  
  • Bad guy 2 succumbed to the laws of physics and is now in the Lord's hands (this was believed to be fact at the time of this writing and changed later, see below)
  • I'm not sure about how extensive the damage is to my vehicle.  I do feel bad because 1 less vehicle in an already decimated fleet is good for no one.

Processing - How do you process this?

I process first by giving thanks and evaluating things from higher ground.  Poor me, why me, woe is me, has never served me well.  Things happen for a reason.  We live in a world of cause and effect and the curious mind constantly seeks the answers.  I have a curious mind.

What am I thankful for?  My God, where does a man start?  I want to thank Ford Motor Co. for building a strong vehicle with crumple zones, rigid frames etc...  Had I been in my personal vehicle, I might be trying to type while sedated on a vent in a surgical ICU somewhere.  Had I been on my Harley? I'd be with Opie, Piney and Half Sack (<<-- Gratuitous "Sons Of Anarchy" reference) trying to get my Facebook to post to you from Heaven. 

I'm thankful for another day to be a father to my daughters, a paramedic to my patients, a co-worker and friend  to others.

I'm thankful that this was at 10:30 at night and not day.  A daytime incident at that particular intersection would certainly have claimed more lives, innocents and likely children.

I'm thankful for timing. A second faster and we'd be broadsided and likely turned over.  I'd have a couple hundred pounds of oxidizing gas (oxygen) right behind my head in the form of an oxygen missile.

Terry Hoben - ALS Coordinator


I'm thankful it was me and not one of my co-workers.  I would do anything for these people and couldn't bear to see any of them suffer.  And in a strange way, I'm almost thankful that our unit was able to absorb this impact and stop these alleged criminals.  This city suffers enough on a daily basis and needs not -- another innocent victim.  I'm tired of seeing teddy bears, flowers and candles at make-shift memorials for children.


I'm thankful  for Terry Hoben, my director who came from home to be at our side.  I'm thankful to the communications staff in REMCS (Chief Acosta, Alex, Mary, Kristi and others) for trying to find where we were and to send the troops our way.  I'm thankful for Chief's O'Keefe and Visoskas who showed compassion and support (and paperwork!).  I'm thankful for my fellow B-Teamers and all our staff here at UHEMS for continuing to show others that this is how it's done.  This is how WE roll.  It may not be the only way... but certainly is a very good way.



UHEMS Special Operations Patch




MIC 3 Is Off the Air - Out of Service (for now)



 MIC III - B Team

Related: