"I WISH YOU COULD SEE"    I wish you could see the sadness of a business  man  as his  livelihood goes up in flames, or that family returning home, only  too find their  house and  belongings damaged or lost for good.   I wish you could know what it is like too search a  burning  bedroom for  trapped children, flames rolling above your head,  your  palms and knees  burning as you crawl, the floor sagging under your  weight as the  kitchen  below you burns.   I wish you could comprehend a wife's horror at 3 a.m.  as I check her  husband of 40 years for a pulse and find none. I  start  CPR anyway,  hoping to bring him back, knowing intuitively it is  too late. But  wanting  his wife and family to know everything possible was  done to try to save his life.   I wish you knew the unique smell of burning  insulation, the taste of  soot-filled mucus, the feeling of intense heat  through  your turnout   gear,  the sound of flames crackling, the eeriness of being  able to see absolutely nothing in dense smoke-sensations that  I've  become too  familiar with.  I wish you could understand how it feels to go to   work  in the morning  after having spent most of the night, hot and  soaking  wet at a multiple  alarm fire.  I wish you could read my mind as I respond to a  building fire "Is this  a  false alarm or a  orking fire? How is the building  constructed? what  hazards await me? Is anyone trapped?" Or to an EMS  call, "What is  wrong with the patient? Is it minor or   life-threatening? Is the caller  really  in distress or is he waiting for us with a 2x4 or a  gun?"  I wish you could be in the emergency room as a  doctor pronounces  dead  the beautiful five-year old girl that I have been  trying to save  during  the  past 25 minutes. Who will never go on her first date  or say the  words,  "I love you Mommy" again.  I wish you could know the frustration I feel in the  cab of the engine  or  my personal vehicle, the driver with his foot  pressing  down hard on the  pedal,  my arm tugging again and again at the air horn chain, as you  fail  to yield the right-of-way at an intersection or in  traffic. When you need us however, your first comment upon our arrival will  be, "It took you  forever to get here!"  I wish you could know my thoughts as I help  extricate  a girl of teenage  years from the remains of her automobile. "What if  this was my sister,  my  girlfriend or a friend? What were her parents  reaction  going to be when  they opened the door to find a police officer with  hat  in hand?"  I wish you could know how it feels to walk in the  back  door and greet  my  parents and family, not having the heart to tell  them  that I nearly did  not come back from the last call.  I wish you could feel the hurt as people verbally, and  sometimes  physically, abuse us or belittle what I do, or as  they express their  attitudes of, "It will never happen to me."  I wish you could realize the physical, emotional and  mental drain or  missed meals, lost sleep and forgone social  activities, in addition to  all  the  tragedy my eyes have seen.  I wish you could know the brotherhood and  self-satisfaction of helping   save a life or preserving someone's property, or  being  able to be there  in  time of crisis, or  creating order from total chaos.  I wish you could understand what it feels like to  have  a little boy  tugging at your arm and asking, "Is Mommy okay?" Not  even being able  to look in his eyes without tears from your own and  not knowing what to say. Or to have to hold back a long time friend who   watches his buddy  having rescue breathing done on him as they take him  away in the  ambulance. You know all along he did not have his   seat  belt on. A  sensation that I have become too familiar  with.  Unless you have lived with this kind of life, you  will  never truly  understand or appreciate who I am, we are, or what  our  job really means  to us...I wish you could though. "Author Unknown"