The Dispatcher

The Dispatcher

People are crabby today. Not sure if it is the water or the air, the Daytona 500 or the breath of spring which is smothered by the rainy damp. The room is buzzing with callers, officers and conversations I until the only sounds which can break through are the irritating giggles of this or that person or the nagging clanging bell which tells us we better get on ready for another call.

Screaming does not really do it for me. Not at all. Mr. W was pretty calm when he called in to request an ambulance for his wife who was having an aneurysm but I could not help her. Wished I could reach through the phone and comfort her, tell her not to be scared but I could not. I had to be present for Mr. W, get the address and give him instructions in trade for information. The relief that flooded through me was as much as his, I guess. You can always hear callers calm down when that first siren can be heard. They trust you when they hear the sirens- that you did your job even if they doubted before.

The stress is passed like this all day. Caller to clerk, clerk to dispatcher and dispatcher to officer, EMT or fireman. The long-term dispatchers are unaffected by snarky units; they scrunch up their face and scowl at the radio and reply is a calm voice, "I'm clear." In the end we leave the grudges here and go home.

The stress is dissipated in strange ways. When I started I was 189 pounds and I famously undid a year of hard work once I got signed off as a dispatcher by wolfing down candy, cookies, chips, beef jerky (as that is healthy), vegetables drowned in ranch (an extremely short lived veggie diet), magic potion vitamin drinks (sold in some scheme by an employee), cupcakes (birthdays) or potluck dinners in which every trip to the restroom involved a detour through the break room where you would eat one cookie and stash two more in your pocket in a wadded up paper towel.

Food is a dispatchers spouse. We love it, hate it and love to hate it. It soothes us when people yell at us that we're morons or tell us we're stupid and it keeps us company when we're bored on a cold Sunday at 3 am. We have a lot of the food experiences we would have with you at home. Easter hams, Christmas dinner potlucks bbqs.... All while getting fire trucks to chimney fires when enterprising homeowners try to burn plastic coated gift wrap in their fireplaces with the flue shut.

Food is predictable. The fast-food joint across the street where we go in desperation when nothing else is open or we run out of coffee is always the same. We know that the nasty burger will hit the spot. That is until it sours in our stomach and turns on us. Sometimes I think it is like returning to a toxic but comfortable relationship.

Food is our sustenance and our killer- I'm not sure I would be over stretching it if I guessed over a third of us are overweight. This is not a job which discriminates by size. Were hired for our smarts and our ability to think quickly and multitask. I am certain Mr. W on the other end of the phone today did not care that I am still technically obese and I ate a piece of bacon today or that Susan needed to buy special order tactical pants because the retailer did not sell over size 48. I got him his ambulance and she talked a 25 year old through instructions after a rape.

Sure, there are a lot of healthy people here who bring their own lunches or choose the sensible salad on the takeout menu but they are less soothing than an overstuffed potato with bbq cheese and sauce. Why is it so hard for us to take care of ourselves while we are caring for others? Food seems like the easiest and quickest way to pet our egos and reassure us it will be okay and we didn't care for your tone either caller....

It is interesting that the permission of food while we work goes in waves sometimes okay, sometimes prohibited but we always need to have a secret stash "just in case". Pockets, drawers, bags, behind screens we are a very inventive bunch. Push a screen down near the bottom and back of the desk- you could stash an entire Thanksgiving dinner with ease. Despite being destructive it is how we cope.

Stress comes in all varieties and from all sources. Being on time to work, doing an accurate job, making sure our guys are safe. But we still do it. Emergency Services is not for the faint of heart whether you are in the field or behind the microphone or telephone. HOW we deal with it shows where we are in our personal evolution.

Honestly, I like humor. It deflects tension but, more importantly, fear. You cannot possibly give CPR or airway instructions on an infant or talk someone into putting down a gun without a modicum (okay a TON) of fear.

I pray that no one ever has to call in to 911 but if they do I am sure they have no idea what is going through our minds. Addresses can be given wrong by a panicked caller, a calltaker might not be able to hear or understand what is being said. I spoke to a man for several minutes before realizing he was a woman though she likely did not care because I was trying to get information on the theft of her car from a store after she left it running. I chuckled about that secretly though it seemed mean afterward; was she going in to buy cigarettes? I think in reality I was embarrassed that I said SIR so many times and thought she was kind not to correct me.

Humor comes in many forms. We tease each other sometimes to the point of being mean. One day I wondered if I had fallen through the looking glass and had awakened at a Jackie Mason show in the Catskill Mountains or was in the second row of a Sam Kinison show. “Mean” humor somehow gives us permission to say out loud what we really want to say but somehow as a joke it makes it okay.

Obtuse humor is the same and it often comes up during phone calls with callers who are sure I am as dense as a rock and cannot possibly understand what they are saying.

“Can I get your name sir/”

“Dr. X”

“Can I get your first name please?” (yes I did say please- I do try to have good phone manners no matter what is coursing through my brain)

“My name is Dr. X!!”

“Okay, so your first name is Dr.?”

“Sir?”

Or the callers who feel they need to let you know just how important their call is…

“Sir what kind of car are you driving? (for a minor parking lot accident)

“A 2019 BMW Touring G-Power Hurricane RS model Alabaster Pearl metallic with leather interior and the Eddie Bauer trim package” (I have no idea if this actually exists but this is what it sounds like)

“So a white BMW. Can I get your phone number please?

Then there is fun radio humor. I have to state right here that there are serious FCC implications for inappropriate chatter on main radio channels. There has to be. In an emergency these channels are needed and cannot be clogged with silliness. However…Dispatchers and responders will push the limits if the mood is right.

“All units please be aware that the First Baptist church is offering sandwiches for responders as well as coffee and doughnuts. 123 Main street”

Unit 1 “Dispatch did you advise sandwiches? Do you know what kind?”

Unit 2 “dispatch can you advise on the doughnuts please?”

Unit 1 “Dispatch also can you advise if they will have decaf?

As a literal person, of course I take their questions seriously and call the lovely lady back to find out what kind of sandwiches there are, the doughnut info and what the coffee situation is…

“All units with regard to the responder food at the First Baptist they will be offering chicken salad sandwiches on white bread, assorted doughnuts from the local doughnut store and Folgers coffee with powdered creamer, sugar or Spenda…”

Unit 2 “Dispatch are we required to have both creamer AND sugar?”

Unit 4 (from another channel) “Dispatch did you put a BOLO (be on the lookout) for chicken salad sandwiches in Delta Team? Can you repeat that info?

Officers will let off steam by telling us they are hungry… “Dispatch show me on a stop with a Ford Ranger TN ABC123 That is APPLE, BISCUIT, CHERRY PIE 123”

Or responders who are also using obtuse humor. I moved from police to EMS radio and the jargon is a bit different… We have mountains in Tennessee and often units are required to remain at the top of the mountain due to the time it takes to bring one up. Same in reverse…

"Sir, did you want Medic 08 to drop off the mountain?

Silence.

There is some commotion behind me; some hillarious racus which has the dispatchers tickled and I can't hear the lieutenant answer.

"Ma'am you wanted medic 08 to drop off the mountain?" His radio traffic seems strained or garbled as if he was in mid bite of a big sub sandwich or suppressing laughter.

"Negative sir, I wanted to know if you wanted me to have medic 08 come down to the valley to cover Medic 4's."

Oh wait.... I get it now.... Semantics. No. I was not seriously suggesting we should drive medic 08 off the mountain, merely asking if his driving down OFF the mountain would be prudent. The peanut gallery behind is in full laughter and the phones light up with them gleefully repeating this all too common slip to their friends in the field.

Other than crafting, for which I guarantee the combined dispatchers in our center own an entire Hobby Lobby, gossip is the most salacious and enticing activity. Working with the “secret” information such as warrants, arrests, medical etc. can bleed over into personal relations. Being in the “know” which is paramount for being a good dispatcher in Emergency Services sometimes has blurred boundaries and we pick apart our coworkers with the same aggression I would use to find that warrant from 1993 that I know you are lying about.

Our center is fairly typical of most- large and busy with several supervisors who handle all manner of things. We are all human and we all mess up from time to time. Seriously, though, I do not know a dispatcher who does not agonize over making mistakes and ALL of us pray that we get everyone the help they need.

I would love to do a sociological study of gossip. I am continuously shocked how quickly it spreads and how horribly mangled it can get. In our center the shift supervisor, if needing to speak privately to a worker, would take them into the office and then shut the door hard. “BAM”.. then silence… then they would appear… the Meerkats. Heads would pop up one by one to see who was in the office and what they thought was being said. “do they look upset?” one would say. “I heard she was late again” “No, I heard she did not document that license plate correctly” and it would go on from there. By the time that poor dispatcher got out of the office she would have been clapped in irons for trafficking children in the Sub Saharan desert along with boatloads of heroin.

I think gossip is enticing because it is so…human. We all gossip in one way or another but in the dispatch center it seems magnified. Add to this social media. Though prohibited on the floor there were many dispatchers who ran outside to their break to check in on the soap opera with the gusto of a black Friday shopper and a $100 TV. Social media spreads good and bad news with a speed previously unknown to man. I continuously amazed me to arrive at work sitting next to two friends who, by the time I left, had unliked, unfollowed and unfriended their friend.

All kidding aside- the one overarching factor you find in a 911 center is caring. I can be sitting next to a dispatcher I do not really care for or do not know but be the first person to offer help. We help callers, we help each other (especially newer people) and we watch out for our guys and gals. We can laugh all we want about social media or verbal slipups but in a tornado or a shooting or fire we are one unified force. We take care of each other after crises and understand that it could happen to any of us at any time.

In crisis the victim is our main concern and the pettiness of the day washes away. Emergency Services is not a calling for the faint of heart. You’re tired, overstressed underfed but we know that Mr. W is depending on us to get there and help his wife. Get there and make it all better if we can. Get there and make things normal.

“Fox 6, copy an animal call…”

“6, respond to 2100 Broad street for a chicken in the roadway” (there is a poultry plant nearby)

Silence.

“6?”

Silence

“Fox 6 yes ma’am (muffled laughter)”

“Uhhh Dispatch could you clarify why the chicken crossed the roadway?”