by Linda Olmstead
Well, I've had a nice break from work. At the time of this writing, I'm on vacation. It gives me a chance to do something for myself at a more leisurely pace, and if I'm moved to do something for someone else, it's not because "that's my job" but because I want to do it. And ya know what? I'm finding myself being very selfish, suddenly. A lot. I don't mean grabby, or demanding, I just meanwellless inclined to ignore my own needs and wants.
So, what is it that I want? Or need? I don't want to answer the phone. It's just gonna be somebody wanting something from me. [grin] Okay, now why would anybody give a hoot about this, anyway? Well, if you've been in Public Safety Communications for any length of time, you also might find it hard to "turn off" the drivers that keep you doing what you do at work. Especially if those are drivers for your personal life, as well.
Most of us do this kind of work because it suits us. We really get into that helping mode. It's our nature to be there for others. The job provides us the skills and equipment to do it in a specialized fashion, but the interior satisfaction-or need-to do it well and keep doing it over and over again for years and years comes from within each of us.
It sure can be draining, though, can't it? This type of work requires the ability to be both focused and diffuse, sometimes within moments of each approach. Spread all that talent out over several tasks, be aware and open for signs and portents ofgoshall kinds of stuff! And just like that, zero in on something right now and don't get distracted by well, the stuff you were just paying attention to, a moment ago.
This is intense work. Here ya are, in a controlled frenzy, doing for others, helping, solving, suggesting, handling, coordinating, explaining, calming, appropriately putting this caller on hold to handle something else with a higher priority level, going back to the caller, telling this officer to go ahead and that one to stand by, hanging on until someone can relieve you so you can go to the restroom.
And the big kicker: sometimes, no matter what you do, no matter how perfectly you do it, how much you anticipate the needs of the situation and act upon them, bad things still happen. You couldn't have done anything better or faster or with more skill; someone still died, or was hurt, or got away.
That takes a big toll on ya, doesn't it?
Face It
You know that old saying: One "Aw-Shit" wipes out 15 "Atta-Grams." Well, in this line of work, the ratio of the Bad Stuff to the Good Stuff can be really skewed, fluctuating shift by shift and day by day. And let's face it: people don't dial 9-1-1 to announce that Good Things are happening and y'all are invited to attend the celebration.
I was recently challenged by an Internet acquaintance I've never met, in an e-mail discussion list exchange. I'd vented a bit, to compatriots around the world, about the stupid things the public does, and what they sometimes expect us to handle for them. The challenge came when another subscriber perceived (I guess) that I didn't operate with the same dedication as we all should demonstrate: the public is who we're there to help, regardless of the nature of their requests.
Now, that hurt my feelings. [smile] I'd not said I didn't help ', I'd just sniveled about how stupid some folks can be, and wondered how they managed to survive to adulthood. I'd also shared it with a group of communications professionals, dispatch folks who I knew in my heart of hearts had also dealt with dumb calls. We wuz commiserating, I thought.
Just to illustrate that commiserating sort of situation, let me describe something I'm sure many readers have experienced: taking a call that should be transferred to another agency, and it's downright stupid.
Correct Agency
You know it, you know if the dispatcher at that other agency had gotten the call first, s/he'd think it was stupid, the only person who doesn't know it is the caller. But ya gotta give the call to the correct agency. So, in the telephonic transfer "hand off" stage, you acknowledge that you're giving them a dumb call. Right? (Remember: no "cold" transfers; don't just dump them dorks without announcing it's a transferred call!)
Like: firecrackers going off, any day up to, during, and subsequent to July 4th. Or: cars parked in front of somebody's house-legally parked, just taking up space their guests should be able to use. Late or "cold" calls for really important stuff, like somebody throwing a piece of gum out of a moving car, and it lands inside another passing vehicle, probably an hour ago, now. But they got the license plate! Oh my. We'll get right on that one.
Working as a call-taker, I would develop an easy-going rapport with an allied agency dispatcher at another PSAP. Some such relationships are more fun than others; I've encountered soul-mates of sorts now and then, along with humorless individuals. (Man, you just hate pushing the button on the console that rings over there, when it's one of those drones!)
Doot de Doot
One night not too long ago, I was lucky. It was reciprocal: every time I transferred over a wireless 9-1-1 call or she transferred a wired one to us, or when we had other dealings, we exchanged some bit of humor. We'd editorialize about the heinous nature of some of the calls, say, "You again?" and other stuff that made a human connection while we accomplished the tasks necessary for effective cooperation between agencies.
Often our assistance would be requested and they'd ask for an ETA, which sometimes took a while to provide. I have this little tuneless ditty I sorta sing-doot de doot de doot de dooo-while I'm waiting to get the information, if I think it won't be too long to get it (otherwise we'll call 'em back with it) and one gal at one PSAP responded with the Jeopardy Theme tune. She was obviously someone blessed with the ability to carry a tune; I was kinda jealous. [grin]
A couple of times she had very vague information to provide us about the situation we were expected to handle. I hazarded a guess the person providing it to was an officer; would anybody be surprised how often I was right? (It cracked up the gal at the other PSAP.) Amazing that the folks in the field want all sorts of information but cannot provide it when asking another agency to respond... (Our officers do it too; it's universal, I think.)
So, given the historical evidence that dispatchers have a lot in common and we comment about stuff like that to each other, I composed a little message about it and sailed it off into cyber-space. Whoa! Back comes this criticism for what I considered to be a harmless vent about dealing with the public in those less-than-stellar situations. I imagined everybody'd had at least one or two dorky reporting parties, and my clever words would spark a smile of recognition on the faces of folks reading my post on that dispatch-specific discussion list. I certainly didn't expect to be chastised for "treating" the public poorly!
Recharge Them
Has that happened to anybody else? (Not the e-mail discussion list exchange thing, but the expectation that your thoughts would be accepted and your feelings shared amongst peers and that you were still a good and worthy individual in the whole scheme of things. One with a good sense of humor, to boot.) That ever happen? You perceive yourself as a dedicated professional and somebody else thinks you've screwed up? Or that you're screwed up?
If you don't take time off to recharge your batteries, that sort of thing can leave a bruise that takes some time to heal. Get a few more bumps from things that don't go well, and it's harder to expend the energy to care about things that might be a bit more important than the other, silly stuff.
That's what make this job hard. The sheer volume of Bad Things we handle that begin outside our Comm Centers, coupled with the bumps and bruises to our egos, suffered in actions taken within the Comm Center-by peers and administrative staff, and sometimes by our partners in the field.
Where's the seat of professionalism? Inside us, I mean. Is it Ego? Pride in one's work is important. And ya can't have a tender Ego in this work, can ya! Caring for others has to be tempered with what is possible to do for them, given time constraints, resources and equipment. Not to mention weighing their "needs" against their "wants."
There are incidents that amaze us for various reasons. [grin] Normally, the report of a DUI driver-in order to be effectively handled-requires more than "It's behind me and all I see are headlights, but he's all over the road!" Right. Try broadcasting that description to the field: "Vehicle description is unknown; all the RP sees is headlights." Well, one night, our officers caught one such DUI driver! Go figure. The involved dispatchers love telling the story. It's a plus amongst a field strewn with minuses.
So, I think, it's the miracles that help us continue to do this job and do it well. We might not always recognize them as miracles, because we encounter them daily. [fond smile] And those silly ones can be just as significant inside us as the big whoop-te-do of a baby being born or a life saved or a brush fire stamped down before it crosses a ridge. We caught us a drunk driver when the only vehicle description was "headlights."
That member of the public coulda been just another "stupid" caller-but we treated the report-and the caller-with the same professionalism and concern for safety, the same courtesy each caller deserves, regardless of the nature of the complaint, and the outcome was a success. You can bet it's a feel-good thing to help counter the owwies of other, less successful incidents.
Look for the miracles encountered in your Comm Centers-you might just hear a circus calliope as often as angelic hallelujahs, though.
Happy to be here, proud to serve.
Linda
September 2000