THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, August 28, 1994 TAG: 9408260229
SECTION: CHESAPEAKE CLIPPER PAGE: 02 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: RANDOM RAMBLES
SOURCE: Tony Stein
LENGTH: Medium: 88 lines
If you're a paramedic, sooner or later, you're going to hold someone's life in your hands. Within a time span of a few fleeting minutes, what you do or don't do will decide whether someone lives or dies.
That's why Capt. Michael New says Emergency Medical Services workers are ``a breed apart.'' What it takes to handle life-or-death situations with calmness and skill is what makes them different.
New knows what he's talking about. He's second-in-command of Chesapeake's 78-member Emergency Medical Services unit, and he's just been named EMS administrator of the year for the Hampton Roads area.
A Portsmouth native, New graduated from Churchland High School in 1973. He was a volunteer with the Bennetts Creek Rescue Squad while he was still in high school. ``When you're young, it's kind of exciting to be out there,'' he says with a grin.
After high school, he worked for an ambulance service and the Chesapeake Sheriff's Department. Then, in 1981, he became a Chesapeake firefighter. Three years ago, Emergency Medical Services became a seperate operation under Chief Ken Murphy.
A ninth ambulance was added in July. Stationed at fire houses around the city, the ambulances are expensive propositions. Each costs about $110,000 to build and equip, plus about $150,000 a year for three shifts of two-member crews.
``But,'' says New, ``suppose an $11,000 machine we use in cardiac cases saves a life. You have to say it's well worth it.''
Out there in his service area there have been 22 kids that New delivered or helped deliver. The count includes one surprise arrival. He and another man had just finished delivering a baby at a Bennetts Creek home and were taking mom and baby to the ambulance when Nature started sending signals. The mother, who hadn't been to a doctor, was having twins. It was an obstetrical double feature.
That was one time when EMS people didn't need help from the railroad tracks on Campostella Road. Before the tracks were leveled and before Chesapeake General Hospital had a maternity wing, lots of Chesapeake's rush deliveries went to Norfolk General Hospital. The ambulances hit the slightly raised tracks and EMS veterans have told me that the jolt helped push the baby along.
Looking back over his career, New says the incident that stands out in his mind happened at the civic party thrown to honor veterans of Operation Desert Storm. It was at Chesapeake City Park. New and Chief Murphy got word that a man was in cardiac arrest. They had to work their way through a throng of people to reach the patient.
When they got there, two other men were already giving CPR, but it wasn't working. ``He was clinically dead,'' New remembered. ``No pulse, no respiration.'' Then New and Murphy and their life support equipment went to work. ``Within 10 minutes, his heart was beating, and he was breathing,'' New says proudly.
Some time later, New was in uniform at another civic function at Lakeside Park when a man came up and said paramedics had once saved his life. He had never known who they were. Yes, it was the man New and Murphy had brought back and it was a thrill for both paramedic and patient to meet.
But New said the immediate CPR by the other two men at the scene was a critical factor in helping prevent brain damage from oxygen loss. He wishes everyone knew CPR because brain damage is possible in as little as four to six minutes if the victim isn't breathing.
If knowing what to do and coolness under pressure are key ingredients for EMS workers, the need for coolness can sometimes backfire, New says. ``It takes a toll,'' he believes. ``People have an idea that paramedics have no emotions, but they have to maintain their composure. If they didn't, they might do something wrong. When you're upset, your mind can go haywire.''
But there are times when something so gut-wrenching happens that even cool veterans need help to deal with it. That's when members of a critical incident stress debriefing team are available. They provide counseling and guidance. A typical incident, New says, is a fire in which children have died. He himself is what's called a ``peer debriefer,'' who talks with co-workers about stress situations or personal problems. ``You've got to get your feelings out or they'll eat you alive,'' he says.
The way New beats job stress is working on a race car with his son, 15-year-old Mike Jr., and a group of friends. The car is a 1978 Olds Cutlass that Mike Sr. drives in the Limited Stock Class at Langley Speedway. No wins yet, but some close finishes. And if he's ever hurt, he figures he's in good hands. His pit crew is made up of EMS colleagues.
Stress and all, the job is important to New.
``You've got a life in your hands,'' he says. ``You may not win 'em all, but the ones you do win make a big difference.'' by CNB