Real stories from nineteen years
as a frontline paramedic. Honest reflections on ambulance service life, emergency medicine
and the people behind the blue lights.
Before You Begin
This collection is dedicated to:
- To the crewmates who worked with me over my nineteen years.
- To the EMTs and Paramedic mentors who taught me more on the road and in a crew room than any textbook ever could.
- To the control staff who somehow make sense of the chaos on the end of the telephone to give to us
- To the stations that became our second home — where the kettle was always on, the laughter came easy, and someone was always there when a shift stayed with you.
And especially to my family, who learnt, without complaint, that “I’ll be home on time” is more of a loose concept than a promise.
These essays mark the beginning of something I have been meaning to do for some time — a space to reflect on the road behind me and the lessons gathered along the way. What you’ll find here is only the start. Further pieces will follow regularly, each shaped by experience and written with honesty. If something here resonates with you, I hope you’ll return soon to continue the journey with me.
Some reflections shared here touch on the more challenging realities of ambulance service work. While written with care and respect, readers are encouraged to approach them with an awareness that certain themes may be emotionally affecting.
New to The Frontline Clinician?
I recommend beginning with The 19-Year Handover, The Queue,
What I Know, or The View From the Other Side.
The Water Babies
There is no manual for the relationship between the ambulance service and the fire service. Nobody sits you down and explains it. You just turn up to enough jobs together, and somewhere along the way it forms – part professional…
The Call You Pray You Never Get
This story first appeared on my Facebook page in 2016. I wrote it the morning after, still in the middle of it. Returning to it years later gave me the distance to write it the way it deserved. For those…
Not all injuries bleed
The room is often quiet when we arrive. Not peaceful quiet, but the kind that feels heavy. Someone sits in front of us — sometimes on a sofa, sometimes on the edge of a bed, sometimes simply on the floor…
The view from the other side!
You spend years learning how to read a room in seconds. Not the walls. Not the furniture. The people. The silence. The things that aren’t being said. You learn to walk in with purpose. To take control without asking permission.…