Make no mistake, we firefighters are no strangers to suffering. We suffer in several different ways whether we like to admit it or not, and we’re exposed to the suffering of others on a regular basis with the understanding we have the intrinsic capacity to fix the problems of strangers, extinguish burning possessions and resurrect the dead with just a moment’s notice.
In a large paid department, firefighters do these daring tasks largely for strangers (never mind our frequent fliers), but in small communities, volunteer or paid on-call firefighters must perform them on a regular basis for friends and family. The suffering we see strangers go through is one thing, but to see people familiar to us suffering is another thing altogether, isn’t it?
A common sentiment in the fire service may be, “This is what you signed up for.” And while true, it’s that sentiment that’s killing us on a regular basis, sometimes over the course of years in the form of obesity, substance abuse, divorce, anger issues and a litany of other symptoms, or quickly in the form of suicide, which has steadily outpaced line of duty deaths in the fire service for years.
The Seen and Unseen Weight We Carry
As a competitive cyclist, I’m no stranger to suffering. Frequently in a race, I suffer to launch an attack or sprint for a win, but more often I find myself suffering simply to hang onto the pace of faster riders. Viewed from a fire service perspective, we suffer through the early years of a career acquiring knowledge, skills and wisdom as we attack our trade, practicing a craft reserved for only the bravest, most selfless people who step forward and pull on a blue shirt when duty calls.
But that suffering changes as we age in the field. While a firefighter’s education is never done, it slows to a manageable pace and the new suffering sets in. The pain of an old nagging knee or back injury flares as we step from the truck in the middle of the night. The third call after midnight tempts us to call in sick the following shift just to get caught up on sleep. And the alert to a callout for a fire in our hometown no longer provides the same excitement to leave the warm bed in our home to rush to the fire hall and pick up the pumper. The suffering we experience becomes less external and far more internal in nature, and we frequently ignore it until something bad happens.
There’s no way to end the suffering we see in the fire service. It quite simply is what we have to see, feel and address when we’re called to do so as part of the craft, and it’s in some way stated in your job description, is it not? It’s the answer to the question, “If not me, then who?”
Learning to Suffer Well
I think the key to a healthy career in fire may be the idea of suffering well. If you’re going to suffer, then why not be good at it? Why not embrace the suck? Why not admit we’re human after all and we must take care of ourselves before we take care of anyone else? It’s what we’re taught as the foundation of safety and risk management: myself, my crew, the public.
Suffering well doesn’t mean not suffering. It also doesn’t mean ignoring the suffering. The strongest of firefighters acknowledge their pain, problems and deficiencies, learn how to best correct, limit and learn from those things and go on to become proficient practitioners of the trade. But I submit to you that there’s something else the strongest among us add to the list, and that’s extending a hand to our brothers and sisters to help them with the same suffering we face.
There’s a bond we all share in the fire department. I’ve seen it in firefighters from around the country and know that we really are a family. And there’s a certain feeling when you help someone in that family, whether it’s on the opposite coast, or within your own station. It takes courage to have a difficult conversation within this family sometimes, to ask someone to step into the office and close the door or to meet for coffee seemingly out of the blue after shift one morning. But once that conversation begins, it’s natural. It feels good. It feels right.
Strength in Reaching Out
Reaching out to someone who is suffering displays true strength, and it’s what we need so badly not only in the fire service, but in the world today. Suffering well means being able to admit that something is challenging, asking for help from our team, then smiling or laughing maniacally while pushing on through the struggle, knowing we’ll come through the other side smarter, stronger and wiser in exchange for the blood, sweat and tears required of the task.
Your crew is counting on you to be part of the team. Your family is counting on you to come home safe. And strangers are counting on you to answer their call. Not all of these things will always involve difficulty, but when they do, take good care of yourself and those around you. You know what to do, now get out there and push.
Lastly, there’s one final way in which none of us should ever suffer, and that’s in silence.
Suffer well, my fire family. Suffer well.
