The Highway to Hell

Let me warn you ahead of time: this is not a PC post.

Spend any amount of time in a communications center and chances are your ears will begin to catch fire. We’re not known for our ‘pc’ nature. In fact, dispatchers tend to vent – a lot. We have to. It’s not healthy to keep the anxiety we face every shift bottled up inside.

Large communications centers may break up the radio operators from the call-taking areas. Police and fire/emergency medical service might be in separate building altogether. With big dispatch facilities comes bigger staffing. Short, 10 or 15 minute breaks, and a lunch, are scheduled. This allows the Public Safety Dispatchers to leave the chaos of the radios and phones for a time to de-stress, work-out, read a book, or eat.

What happens to a small center? How does one deal with stress when there is only one dispatcher in the room or a couple but the activity is such that sneaking out is not an option? A couple of times in my career I’ve worked in a single-dispatcher environment. Just figuring out bathroom breaks was tricky. It never failed: take a bathroom break and someone would call on the radio. Really? Was there a secret camera in Dispatch?  Was a crew sitting in a café watching me on their laptop giggling when they saw me dash to the bathroom. "Wait - there she goes. Call in a request." The same went for eating. I have lost count of how many meals I nuked into plastic by re-heating the food over & over again due to constant radio traffic or phone calls that couldn’t be put off. Nothing is worse than having to wait when it’s busy for someone to come to Dispatch to give you a break.  Can the crews hear me stomach growing over the radio? Time slows to a snail’s crawl when you're doing the pee-dance or fighting the shakes from low blood sugar. But wait - there's more - suppose you actually get to start eating. You bite into that sandwich, or burger, or warmed-up piece of left-over de-jour and  BAM! here comes the car stop with three wants/warrants checks.

What else happens? We hear a boat load full of stuff no one should have to, or want to.  Many of those calls never leave your psyche. The scenarios re-play in your head like a broken record. It turns out our imagination is far worse than the actual scene, too. Wes Craven and Steven King could take some lessons from veteran Dispatchers in setting up horror calls. Don't answer for status checks? I my mind, a gang of Sovereign Citizens has overcome you, stole your radio and beat your bloody...and that's one of the tamer scenarios that run through my head.

Then there are the callers who lack common sense and need a hefty dose. Why would someone chase a wild animal around and then be surprised when the scared animal bites them? Why would someone decide its okay to walk on a highway, at night, wearing dark clothing, and then be surprised when he is struck by a vehicle? Why would a person think loud booms on a Friday night are explosions or an alien invasion when one can clearly see the fireworks show in the sky? Why would a college student think it’s reasonable to stop at an atm at zero dark thirty, get a handful of ash, count it, and then be amazed when she is robbed? Why aren’t bikes in front of the library there waiting when the student exits two hours later? Wait - you mean I should have locked the bike? Why don’t people obey commands of law enforcement officers when stopped?

I could do this all night long...

We ponder those questions between calls. Sometimes we say a few unkind words aloud after being yelled at by callers (who have used every derogatory word in the dictionary to describe our family tree) once we’ve disconnected the phone. Other times, we may make a few jesting comments about the call. De-stressing take many forms. At one time I used t make use of the bottle of dish-water bubbles. Taking a deep breath and blowing out was very relaxing (forget the mess).

At least now I don't deal with as many Darwin Candidates.

It’s human nature. Yes, we vent.

So we have decided (again, having some fun here) that we are going to hell for our japing. And since we’re going to hell, we might as well go in style. The bus is a custom Greyhound complete with a full bar (the boat drinks are to die for), in-‘flight’ movies, and recliner seats. Once we arrive, there is a special section just for us. As we’ve already been in hell for our job, we’re not really going to be punished. Instead, we’ll get 24 hour new first-run-movies, 5-star accommodations, eat at a world-class buffet, and get to see the best bands.

Hey, I hear Jimmy Hendrix and Leonard Skynard are on the schedule. Johnny Cash is the opener.

As Billy Joel said, "I'd rather laugh with sinners than cry with the saints." At least we won’t be cold.

Keeping an open mind and trying to have a sense of humor until next time.

Stay safe out there!