I Will Remember This Day Forever
I will remember this day forever.
A dozen calls in one shift. Our crew is just two people – me and the driver. I’m not someone who fills out paperwork when I could be helping patients. I fill in the basics, write the diagnosis, and move on to the next call.
Over the years, I learned something about fear. It never leaves. It shows up as shaking knees, sweaty palms, a tight chest. But it never shows up in front of patients. I brought that to automaticity. Everything that used to scare me has become just another scenario in the algorithm.
Then came the explosion.
All available crews were dispatched. We reached the scene in under 10 minutes. Dozens of people were running out of a shopping center in panic. Only two crews on site. Everyone who thought they needed help surrounded us – bleeding wounds, severe bruises, chest pain, and raw human fear.
Seconds to scan the crowd. Is anyone critical right now? Because you know the worst are still under the rubble. Rescuers who arrived just before us were already carrying out the first victims on stretchers. One. Two. Three.
No time to open a notebook and write down everyone’s data. Not when you’re treating those who need it most.
Then a second explosion.
I’d like to tell you more, but what I’ve written above captures the essence. Hours later, with the shift far from over, you keep taking new calls. Treating, teaching, calming. Not thinking about what happened during the day.
Back at the station, after a few minutes to pull yourself together, you sit down to electronic and paper documentation. Despite the fatigue. Despite the number of patients. You keep going. You describe every person whose life and health you were responsible for.
And in those moments, anything that can ease the work – systematize the information – stops being just a tool. It becomes support.
But you run into the flaws. Tools that don’t hold up under constant use. Alternatives don’t exist. And protocols don’t even mention them.
Working with AI means dictating in detail, especially when it comes to real-life situations. Every time, you refine your prompts for a better answer. You start finding patterns yourself. You watch how others do it. You take feedback. You learn the rules.
That’s when it clicks: this isn’t just about saving time on documentation. This is about building something that actually works in the field.
That’s why I’m moving into HealthTech.
To build something great.
If you’re working on something that could support people like me – in the back of an ambulance, after a shift like this – let’s talk.