Paramedics Quotes
Quotes tagged as "paramedics"
Showing 1-14 of 14
“In 2020, first responders were cheered, revered, heckled and jeered. The intensity of the year has brought about change and review of the policies and procedures surrounding first responders.”
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“Burnout occurs when an individual has experienced prolonged demands, chronic stress, fatigue, a lack of support, and a decrease satisfaction in what they are doing.”
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“Ouch. What is that?”
“Water, you wimp.” Humor colored his tone and when I looked up, he was smirking again, but this time it was different. He was beaming, radiating—like he used to.”
― Christmas Wishes
“Water, you wimp.” Humor colored his tone and when I looked up, he was smirking again, but this time it was different. He was beaming, radiating—like he used to.”
― Christmas Wishes
“Well, it’s not swollen,” he stated, rewrapping the bandage, “or bleeding or leaking, so I think it’s okay.”
“I know. I’m training to be a nurse,” I replied. “Thanks though.”
“Explains the curiosity and attitude.”
“What?” I snapped.
“I’m a trainee paramedic.”
“Oh.” I looked away, chewing my lower lip. “Right.”
“There’s a sense of rivalry between Emergency Medical Technicians, paramedics, and nurses—I don’t know the reason behind it.”
“I know.”
― Rescued
“I know. I’m training to be a nurse,” I replied. “Thanks though.”
“Explains the curiosity and attitude.”
“What?” I snapped.
“I’m a trainee paramedic.”
“Oh.” I looked away, chewing my lower lip. “Right.”
“There’s a sense of rivalry between Emergency Medical Technicians, paramedics, and nurses—I don’t know the reason behind it.”
“I know.”
― Rescued
“You can use a rope to get somebody out of a pit toilet. Or to make it necessary for somebody to put your body into a grave.”
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“Politics is falling off of a cliff without a parachute while claiming that the first isn’t happening and the second is unnecessary. And as soon as they hit the ground, they're telling the paramedics the same thing.”
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“The Bad Halloween: A Crazies Night Chronicle by Stewart Stafford
I'm Rich—ambulance medic on Crazies Night,
Demented chariot driver in the mediverse,
Skeleton crew for swarms of ailing impostors,
Our dashboard crucifix, buffeting every curse.
Jittery, side-burned Jeff riding shotgun,
I tease his grumbling about missing fun:
"A toast with your Pumpkin Spice Latte!
Breakfast on me when our shift is done."
Behind us, a female living portrait groaned—
Drunk or high, headfirst, she kissed the road.
Mona Lisa frame unmounted for treatment,
delirious spoilers dropped for The Da Vinci Code!
Death's Reaper stood daring us in our path;
graveyard shift, centre line, gleaming scythe.
Brakes jammed, sirens blared, the prank waned—
This gothic vigilante traffic cop waved us by!
We dropped Patient Moaner at the hospital,
Jeff smoked, and I ate canteen Colcannon,
Our "bat signal" crackled, flashed in the cab:
"Cosplay brawl at the Hotel Shannon."
We drove off for more Boo-Boo Bus Bedlam
to hit our Gotham's streets and tend the injured.
Catherine wheel jack-o-lantern through windscreen;
The Pumpkin Bomber’s cackle went unheard.
Ears temporarily-deafened, thumbs up given;
Faces, hands, arms burned—scarred medics.
Flying glass cuts on our cheeks and necks:
Carers now mummified patients: sideline critics.
The first cracks of dawn chase shadows away;
A Grand Grimoire yielding to Grey's Anatomy,
Our carriage—the repair yard's hollow gourd,
All-Saints sunrise feast to shed All Hallows' agony.
On the Lord of Death's night, we didn't die:
Weary defiance met coffee and pumpkin pie.
© 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
―
I'm Rich—ambulance medic on Crazies Night,
Demented chariot driver in the mediverse,
Skeleton crew for swarms of ailing impostors,
Our dashboard crucifix, buffeting every curse.
Jittery, side-burned Jeff riding shotgun,
I tease his grumbling about missing fun:
"A toast with your Pumpkin Spice Latte!
Breakfast on me when our shift is done."
Behind us, a female living portrait groaned—
Drunk or high, headfirst, she kissed the road.
Mona Lisa frame unmounted for treatment,
delirious spoilers dropped for The Da Vinci Code!
Death's Reaper stood daring us in our path;
graveyard shift, centre line, gleaming scythe.
Brakes jammed, sirens blared, the prank waned—
This gothic vigilante traffic cop waved us by!
We dropped Patient Moaner at the hospital,
Jeff smoked, and I ate canteen Colcannon,
Our "bat signal" crackled, flashed in the cab:
"Cosplay brawl at the Hotel Shannon."
We drove off for more Boo-Boo Bus Bedlam
to hit our Gotham's streets and tend the injured.
Catherine wheel jack-o-lantern through windscreen;
The Pumpkin Bomber’s cackle went unheard.
Ears temporarily-deafened, thumbs up given;
Faces, hands, arms burned—scarred medics.
Flying glass cuts on our cheeks and necks:
Carers now mummified patients: sideline critics.
The first cracks of dawn chase shadows away;
A Grand Grimoire yielding to Grey's Anatomy,
Our carriage—the repair yard's hollow gourd,
All-Saints sunrise feast to shed All Hallows' agony.
On the Lord of Death's night, we didn't die:
Weary defiance met coffee and pumpkin pie.
© 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
―
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