In August 2005, EMS responded to what appeared to be a routine call: an unresponsive man found in bed in a quiet home in Clay, New York. No trauma. No chaos. Nothing that immediately suggested a crime.

Sometimes the best conversations happen when someone from outside the job gets brave enough to ask the questions everyone else is thinking.

Some calls don’t start with chaos — they start with routine. Two medics, dispatched to what sounds like another “normal” run, stepping into a situation that slowly reminds them why no call is ever truly predictable.

Sometimes, the best conversations don’t happen on stage — they happen sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by gear bags, conference badges, and the quiet hum of a long day.

There’s something about airway calls that stay with you.

It’s late, your job shirt is barely keeping the chill out, and there’s a granola bar wrapper shoved in your pants pocket. You’re sitting on the tailboard, replaying that one moment where everything slowed down, and all that mattered was the tube, the bag, and the view.

In EMS, we train for GSWs like they’re rare. But if you work in our system, you know better.

Becoming a newly licensed paramedic is both exciting and terrifying. You’ve spent months studying protocols, memorizing drug dosages, and honing your skills. But now, it’s real.