Happy National Public Safety Telecommunicators Week!

 It's Photo Wednesday! Which I just made up. Only it's not--in this case it's mostly Meme Wednesday, which I also just made up, although I'd imagine I'm not the first. Somebody should make a meme about that.

So instead of my photos, I'm posting images about what I like to call Dispatchers Week, because National Public Safety Telecommunicators Week really doesn't roll off the tongue.

 I spent over three decades as a full time dispatcher, and now I'm a part time dispatcher until our books start pulling in, oh, five figures. Should happen any minute now.

When I came back, one of the first things I noticed is that we now have a dispatch goose, who tends to change clothes a lot and goes by the name Gertrude. No, I don't know why.

 

I think most of my coworkers are glad to have me back, so I can teach the newbies about puns and inappropriate humor. Or, it could be because we're shorthanded at the moment. It turns out we're supposed to do this job 24 hours a day--who knew?

How do I keep going? Ibuprofen and Mountain Dew.

When I first started in the emergency services, some 45 years ago, I was told I'd never make it in the business if I didn't drink coffee. In the time since, I've had exactly one cup of coffee, at a winter mobile home fire when the temperature was below zero. I'd have drunk antifreeze, if it was hot enough. These days, most of the other dispatchers don't drink coffee either. I have no explanation for this, although when you pick up a 911 call and someone immediately screams in your ear, that tends to keep you awake for awhile.

Anyone in this business can tell you there are, indeed, stupid questions. But here's the interesting thing: Often the person who calls in and apologizes for wasting our time, then spends five minutes trying to convince us it's nothing, has a legitimate complaint. People who ask stupid questions usually have no idea we're pretending to shoot the phone while listening to them.

 

This is exactly why our moods, like our shifts, can veer in any direction in an instant. Except when we have visitors. When people are watching, nothing happens.

 

It's one of the most important jobs there is, because we're the first first responders. If we don't take the call, none of the other first responders know to respond. Unless there's a fireball on the horizon, or something.

 

So thank you for your dedicated work, dispatchers! With you in mind, there's a minor character in my Storm Chaser series who is, indeed, a night shift dispatcher. You can tell by how grouchy he is.

 

Fires and other emergencies tend to pop up a lot in our books, both fiction and nonfiction. Check us out!

 

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible:  https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

 

Remember: People who read are much more likely to remember the number for 911.

 

911 Is Still the Number For 911

I totally forgot it was National Public Safety Telecommunications Week, so I'm give you a rerun of a blog I posted in 2022, in the hopes it was long enough for everyone to forget it.

 We got a new radio system in our dispatch center, and the guy training us on it claimed we could use it at home, on a laptop.

This is a great idea in theory: It would save me gas, and clothes would be cheaper if all I had to buy was pajamas. Of course, video 911 is coming, and callers might not be comfortable with my Star Trek onesie.

Actually, callers might not like seeing me no matter what clothes I'm wearing.

"You got what stuck WHERE?"

This is my thirtieth year celebrating Public Safety Telecommunications Week, which is in April between the snow storms, brush fires, and tornadoes. Since the title's so long, I started calling it PSTW, which is kind of ironic because PSTW sounds a lot like PTSD. Everyone who's dispatched longer than seven years gets to know both. It's science.

Here's the strange thing: I'm burned out on this job. Once too often I've picked up the 911 line only to hear hysterical screaming. Once too often I was the last person someone ever talked to. Once too often the name of a victim or suspect ended up being someone I knew.

Yet it's still the best full time job I ever had.

I actually do wear a cape, but only at home when no one is watching. But yay, cookie! Better keep it away from the dog.

 

Maybe it's because we're actually doing something important. That's a weird thing to define when it comes to jobs, because the best paying ones often are the least important. When a family member is having a heart attack, you don't call your favorite sportsball player for an ambulance. For that matter, when your water pipe bursts you don't look up the number for Beyonce, or Reba McEntire. (Actually, Reba could probably help.)

But that's the way it goes, and at least I've never been stalked by a 911 groupie.

I know the artist!

 

If you've considered being a dispatcher, I'd encourage it. It's way more important than being a security guard at the Oscars. Also, you have to be bad at it to lose your job--the demand for dispatchers just continues to go up.

Still, it can be just a bit stressful. When I'm talking to new people, I like to give them a few tips they don't get in formal training:

No matter what the caller says when you pick up the line, never reply with "You gotta be kidding me."

Always know if you have a live mic. Always.

Try to avoid cursing in dispatch--see above about live mics.

Well ... at least try not to curse too much.

If you have to scream in the bathroom, turn the water on first.

 

Yes, you are a first responder. When 911 rings, you're the first to respond to whatever the problem is. All the others have the advantage of knowing that problem, because you find out.

Hold your temper if your 911 caller starts with, "This isn't actually an emergency ..." Deal with it if the business line rings and it is an emergency. So it goes.

If you have to bang your head against a wall, choose a different place each time, to avoid damage to the concrete.

And finally: If the melatonin gives you nightmares, try sleepytime tea. Sleep is precious.

On a related note, that idea of dispatching on a laptop from home? No. I already have dreams in which I come downstairs and find the dispatch center has been moved to my living room, and I'm the only dispatcher. Besides, I like my Star Trek onesie, and Star Wars pajama bottoms just wouldn't be the same.

Buy some books, just in case of an emergency:

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

The odds of having to dial 911 are much lower if you're home reading.

Stressing Out Over PTSD

 One stressful thing about being a dispatcher is that when the phone rings it could be anything. Many of us play Dispatch Bingo. A UFO report? A herd of cattle blocking the roadway? Lunch, interrupted? A couple arguing over who gets custody of their dog? That's a row--bingo!

For some dispatchers this is one of the perks of the job: the challenge and variety. For others, not so much.

Years ago the business line rang and, in a calm voice, a man gave me his name and home address, so we could notify his family. Then he gave me the location where we could find his body. Then he hung up.

Often, when a suicidal person reaches out, it's a cry for help. Not this time. When our units arrived they could only confirm my certainty: Immediately after hanging up the phone, he shot himself. I was the last person he ever spoke to.

It messed me up.

Word got around, and my boss called to check on me. I told him I would be okay, which was true in the long run. I don't know if I told him that in the short run I wasn't okay at all, but my wife was with me, and I hung in there.

I've served in three branches of the emergency services: EMS, Fire, and 911 Dispatch. If anyone mentions PTSD or critical incident stress, I immediately flash back to one particular call in each of those three areas. But a lot of time has passed since those incidents, and although they still dwell in the dark corners of my brain, they don't control my life.

Usually.

Earlier this year we received a report of a person threatening to kill themself with a gun. I didn't take that call, but the moment I heard the details my body chilled, I could barely breath, and my mind went numb. That suicide from so long ago crashed out of the cage I'd trapped it in and rampaged through my head.

It turns out the person in this case did not have a gun, and the whole thing ended peacefully. Still, it was a wake up call. A jangling alarm that took about five years off my life ... and after three decades at this job, I've already lost enough. It's one of the reasons why I've been pushing my writing career: Not only because I have a lot of stories to tell, but because I'd like to spend my time writing them instead of screaming into a pillow after work every morning.

(This is one time in this blog when I exaggerate: No, I don't scream into a pillow after work. I kiss my wife, hug the dog, and hit the bed, where I usually get a good eight hours of sleep in between the weird dreams.)

I'm not writing this to get sympathy for me. I just wanted to remind everyone that the person you think is strong and "normal" may be battling monsters inside. In fact, they may be the most cheerful people you know, always with a smile and a joke. But the effects of stress are real, and the challenge of maintaining our mental health is a stigma that still remains, even today.

Look after yourself. Look after your friends. And if someone says they're having a problem with their emotions or their mental state, take them seriously. Sometimes we make it look way easier than it is.

Now, I'm off to write some humor ... we all have our ways to cope.

http://markrhunter.com/
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"