A medic is the metalic sent of blood. A medic is the fifth pair of gloves and only halfway through a shift. A medic is a cup of coffee waiting for the patient call to end. A medic is the cramped space in the back of a humvee. A medic is the silence on the radio after an IED explosion. A medic is telling the doctor Yes you are going to take this patient, I have to get back to my CLP. A medic is the feeling of bones crushing underneath you hands while performing CPR. A medic is all vehicles dispatched we have seventeen patients at the west gate. A medic is crying a tear over the one you could not save just to wipe it away for there are more that still need you. A medic is late night MAS CALS, followed by early morning transfers. A medic is the long sprint to the flight line. A medic trying to be everything they need but knowing you wont be. A medic is a hug from the six year old who without you wouldnt have seen this mornings sun rise. A medic is the roar of a helicopter. A medic is the sirens from a humvee. A medic is never knowing what the next patient will bring. A medic is knowing enough to keep him alive. A medic is useless until needed. Above all else a medic is the last shred of hope to not only the injured but their family and friends.
I wrote this as a way to explain to others, who have not been in my shoes, understand what my time in Iraq was like. I could have wrote a hundred pages of nothing but A medic is, there were so many diffrent experiences and memories, but I choose these few because they meant something special to me.