The incident where that guy got crushed under the 120 foot metal tower was physically and mentally draining. First, we search. Trying to find some sign of a person. An arm. A leg. A head. You want to find something but at the same time am I really prepared to see something that WAS a person? After several hours of removing tons of scrap metal and concrete, there was one piece to lift. Everybody knew that he was under that piece. Didn't have to say anything. When it was lifted, I saw a heap of what was once a person. Guts pushed up and out through his torso. Appendages weren't supposed to bend that way. The only good thing that I could see from that is that he went instantly. Lucky him.
I stood there about 20 feet away. I didn't flinch. I felt nothing. I felt bad for his co-workers though. Even as I went closer to cover the body, nothing. When you see death and you have to be the one under control, you push all feelings to the back. You feel nothing.
On Wednesday, my grandmother passed away. I was sad but I didn't cry or anything like that. No bawling. No gut wrenching screams. Just a pause. It made me wonder if my job has made me insensitive. I wasn't working or anything like that so why wasn't I more emotional? I wasn't as close to my grandmother as I was when I was younger but it's not like she was some stranger to me. Maybe I'm not an emotional person. Dead inside? I don't think so. Sometimes now when I think about her, I might get a little teary eyed but that's it. Plus I think it might be tears of joy 'cause she's in heaven now and no suffering any more.
Hardened? Nope. Numb? Don't think so. Insensitive? Not even. Human? Every part. I just know when to turn it on and off.
Like I said, at scene and in command.
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