As some of you are aware I am a police officer with almost 20 years under my belt. During that time I've been spit on, assaulted, had guns and knives pulled on me, wrestled with people, fought subjects under the influence of mind altering drugs, and been involved in near riots. I once had to escort, and provide protection for, a group of BLM protesters chanting "What do we want? Dead cops."
I've been knocked unconscious during a car crash, probably had a couple of concussions, had Covid twice, lost a month of work due to a training injury, (I'd like it to sound heroic, but I tore a calf muscle), I've had to use pliers to pull Taser darts out of my hand because they buried themselves too deep to be removed by hand, and I can't tell you how many bloody noses and black eyes I've had over the years.
To be honest, none of that really bothers me all that much. Most of my stress comes from my own administration.
What does bother me, indeed most of us, is the psychological damage we've endured. I'm a hostage negotiator and a good negotiator will come to identify with the person they're talking to, (I consider it a form of Stockholm Syndrome). There's only so many times you can negotiate with an armed suicidal person, or a hostage taker before you start to lose it.
There's only so many times you can go to a murder scene, a fatal car crash, or a suicide. I actually went to a couple of suicides where the sick bastard was going through a divorce and hung himself in the garage. Only the sorry SOB did it in his wife's carport so the first thing she would see as the door rolled up was her husband. Eleven years ago I performed CPR for almost 10 minutes on a 7 year old boy who died while I was working on him. My oldest son was 6 at the time.
Twenty-two hours ago I responded to a cardiac arrest of a one-month-old. One month. His mother fell asleep with him on her chest. We believe she rolled over in her sleep and he lay face down on the bed, too young to lift his head up and keep himself from suffocating. I did CPR and rescue breathing on him for less than five minutes before medics got there and took over. He was warm to the touch when I started, but he was already dead. He only weighed 8 pounds.
When we cleared the fire and medics when to their station and talked. The police got in their cars and went to their next call. The medics sent two people home. I had extra duty. I was lucky. A friend recognized that I was having trouble and refused to let me work. He took my slot and I went home. I held it together until my wife left the house and took my boys shopping. Then I laid down and cried myself to sleep.
So, why am I dumping this on you guys? A couple of reasons.
1) It's a way to get the events of last night off my chest. A form of therapy.
2) I know some people on this site don't like police officers and make no secret of it. Let's face it, we're human and we make mistakes, I get it. Sometimes a person who shouldn't be an officer gets past all our safeguards and gets hired anyway. we try hard to weed them out, (I'm responsa bile for four such people not being officers any longer myself), but they still get through.
What I am asking is the next time you come across a cop who snaps for no reason, yells when you don't deserve it, or is being what you consider 'unprofessional', take a second and realize that you don't know what he/she is going through. His last call might have seen him facing an armed subject, been a revenge suicide, or attempting, and failing, to save the life of a child.
3) Finally, I ask that you take a moment and pray for the soul of R.O. (I can't release his name). Today he would be his one month old. He never had a chance.
Again, I'm sorry for dropping this on you guys so close to Christmas. I just need to release the pain.
experiments with Finger Drills.
