Mind Over Mayday

Tag: loss

  • Caring for the Dead and Dying: A Sacred Responsibility

    Caring for the Dead and Dying: A Sacred Responsibility

    In the emergency room, we stand at the intersection of life and death, where every moment can shift from hope to heartbreak. Some days, despite everything we do, someone slips away. When that happens, my role changes—from fighting to save a life to honoring the one that has just ended. It’s a sacred responsibility, one I approach with reverence and care, but it’s also a heavy burden to carry.

    After a loss, the real battle begins in my mind. It’s a constant tug-of-war between relief and guilt. Relief comes when death feels like mercy—when someone’s suffering ends after a long battle with pain or illness. But guilt is never far behind. Could we have done more? Did I do enough? These questions echo in my mind, weighing on my heart.

    I remind myself of my mantra: We are not God. We don’t decide who lives or dies. We just do the best we can and leave the rest to a Higher Power. I know this truth, but it doesn’t always quiet the ache. The weight lingers—a mix of sorrow, self-reflection, and an unshakable sense of responsibility.

    Caring for the dead is, for me, a deeply spiritual act. I approach it as I would for a loved one, with gentleness and respect. I clean their body, speaking to them softly as I work, telling them what I’m doing. I close their eyes with care, sometimes offering a prayer or words of peace. These small acts are my way of honoring their life and helping guide their spirit to rest. It’s a sacred moment, a final goodbye, and a reminder of our shared humanity.

    But then comes the cleanup—the part no one prepares you for. The crash cart still sits in the room, its monitor frozen on asystole. The bright fluorescent lights seem harsher than ever, illuminating every detail: the blood, the tubes, the remnants of everything we tried to do. The smell of blood and chemicals lingers in the air, overwhelming my senses. The silence after the chaos feels deafening, broken only by the mechanical sounds of cleaning up the room.

    It’s a sensory overload—the sights, the smells, the memories of what just happened. Cleaning up feels both mechanical and deeply personal. It’s as if we’re closing the chapter on a battle we lost, packing away the tools of a fight that didn’t end the way we’d hoped. These moments are raw, and they stay with me long after the room is ready for the next patient.

    This work is not easy. It leaves an emotional weight that can feel unbearable at times. But even in the midst of grief and exhaustion, I find meaning. I remind myself that every fight matters, even when we don’t win. I hold on to the knowledge that death is not always a tragedy—sometimes, it’s a release from unimaginable suffering.

    Saving lives and losing them are two sides of the same coin, inseparable and relentless. My job isn’t to control the outcome; it’s to give everything I have, to honor the lives in my care, and to carry the weight of loss because that’s the price of compassion and service.

    And so, I keep going. Through the relief and the guilt, the harsh cleanup and the sensory overload, I find peace in the knowledge that I’ve done all I could. Each life I touch, even in their final moments, deserves dignity, care, and love. This belief sustains me when the weight feels too heavy to carry and reminds me why I do what I do.

  • Honoring Our Fallen: How to Cope with the Loss of a Colleague

    Honoring Our Fallen: How to Cope with the Loss of a Colleague

    Losing a colleague in the line of duty is one of the most painful and difficult experiences any first responder can face. Whether the loss is sudden or after a long battle, the weight of grief is a burden that we often carry silently, never fully knowing how to process the emotions that arise. As someone who has attended several memorials and funerals for fallen EMS professionals and firefighters, I want to share my personal experiences and offer advice on how we can cope with the loss of a colleague, while continuing to honor their memory and legacy.

    My First Experience: The Funeral of Sawyer Coleman

    My journey into understanding grief within the first responder community began with the funeral of Sawyer Coleman, a talented EMS professional and firefighter who tragically took his own life. He had worked his way from a Basic EMT to a Paramedic, eventually becoming a Registered Nurse and even instructing at the United Training Center. It was at this funeral that I truly understood the weight of our profession’s losses.

    What struck me the most that day was hearing Sawyer’s son speak about his father. He described an incredible man who inspired so many, not just through his work, but through the love and care he showed to his family and colleagues. This was a man who had a profound impact on so many lives, yet his internal struggles were hidden from view. Sawyer’s death affected the entire EMS community, and the ripples of that action could be felt far and wide.

    That funeral was not just a ceremony for remembering a fallen colleague; it was a wake-up call for all of us. It made me realize how important it is to honor our fallen brothers and sisters, and how crucial it is to address the mental health struggles that so many in our community face.

    Joining the Maine EMS Honor Guard

    The gravity of Sawyer’s funeral inspired me to join the Maine EMS Honor Guard. It was my way of showing respect and solidarity with those who had given their lives in service to others. The first funeral I attended as a member of the Honor Guard was that of Scott Latulippe, a paramedic who, like Sawyer, took his own life after a long battle with his mental health. Scott’s death, and the fact that he had reached out for help through the Employee Assistance Program (EAP) but could not find the support he needed, deeply saddened me.

    Scott’s wife, Julie Latulippe, has become an advocate for mental health within the first responder community. She has led the charge in the state of Maine to create “Clubhouse” meetings, where first responders can gather to discuss their experiences and the gaps in mental health support services. Julie’s work is a shining example of how we can turn our grief into action and fight for the changes that need to be made in our industry.

    Processing Grief in the First Responder Community

    Grief can affect us in different ways. Some may find purpose in loss, using it as a catalyst to fight for causes that matter, such as better mental health resources for first responders. Others may turn to their colleagues, community, or faith for comfort and support. But there are those of us who struggle with depression, despair, and a sense of hopelessness, especially when proper outlets for grief are not readily available.

    It is critical that we break the stigma surrounding mental health within our profession. We must create an environment where it’s okay to talk about trauma, mental health, and our struggles without fear of judgment. This begins by supporting each other, being there for our colleagues, and acknowledging that grief, though difficult, is part of our healing process.

    The Stages of Grief and How to Work Through Them

    Grief is a deeply personal experience, but there are common stages that many of us will go through when processing the loss of a colleague. Understanding these stages can help us recognize where we are in our own grief process and provide methods for coping with each stage.

    1. Denial
      It’s hard to believe that someone we worked alongside is truly gone.
      Coping Mechanism: Acknowledge the feelings of disbelief and talk to someone who understands your profession. Writing down your emotions or even attending a memorial service can help you process the reality of the loss.
    2. Anger
      We may feel angry at the circumstances, at the person for leaving us, or even at ourselves for not seeing the signs.
      Coping Mechanism: Channel your anger into something constructive, such as advocating for mental health awareness, or find a physical outlet like exercise or journaling to express your feelings.
    3. Bargaining
      We might ask ourselves if there was anything we could have done to prevent the loss.
      Coping Mechanism: Accept that you did your best. Seek out peer support or professional counseling to process the “what-ifs” and let go of guilt.
    4. Depression
      The reality of the loss hits us hard, and we may feel sadness or despair.
      Coping Mechanism: It’s important to not isolate yourself. Reach out to trusted colleagues or friends who understand the unique nature of your grief. Seeking professional counseling can also provide a safe space to work through depression.
    5. Acceptance
      Eventually, we come to terms with the loss and find a way to continue living our lives, honoring the memory of our colleagues.
      Coping Mechanism: Focus on ways you can honor their legacy, whether it’s through volunteering, advocacy, or simply remembering the impact they had on others.

    Helpful Resources for First Responders

    For those of us who are struggling to cope with grief, there are books that can help guide us through the process. Here are a few recommendations:

    1. “The First Responder’s Guide to Coping with Death” by Jeff Mitchell
    2. “Resilience: Hard-Won Wisdom for Living a Better Life” by Eric Greitens
    3. “The Healing Power of Grief: A Guide for First Responders” by Robert J. Wicks

    Conclusion: Finding Strength in Grief

    The loss of a colleague is never easy, but it is through our collective grief that we can find strength. By honoring our fallen brothers and sisters, supporting each other, and breaking the stigma around mental health, we can ensure that their legacy lives on. It is crucial that we continue to have conversations about mental health, seek support when needed, and be there for our colleagues in their time of need.

    Remember, we are not alone in this journey. As first responders, we are a community, and together, we will heal. Let us continue to honor those we have lost and work towards a future where no one has to suffer in silence.

    In the end, our strength is found in each other. Together, we rise.

    For more information on the statewide “Clubhouse” meetings, or to join the email list, go to the Contact Me page, and get in touch.