Honoured to have been there
There are days on the job when you feel humbled.
There are days on the job when you feel honoured.
There are days on the job when you feel emotional.
Last Wednesday was one of those days.
The evening prior, I had been invited to attend a tribute happening on Feb. 9 outside the home of Yarmouth paramedic Terry Muise. Having been diagnosed with cancer around four weeks earlier, Terry was not expected to survive the week.
This was going to be a huge loss for the paramedic community in Nova Scotia, which had very recently experienced other losses of colleagues.
With a career spanning 44 years, Terry touched a lot of lives. The lives of countless patients, obviously, but also importantly the lives of those who care for them too. He had served as a mentor to countless paramedics. He had even inspired many to become paramedics.
On the phone the evening of Feb. 8, as it was explained to me what was to take place outside his home, it was hard not to cry. It was all so touching.
A parade of first responder vehicles was planned – ambulances, fire trucks and RCMP vehicles. In keeping with tradition, when a medic retires, there was going to be an official log-off over the radio in his honour.
Initially, the plan had been that when I arrived at the home, I would go inside the house and talk with Terry's friends and family about Terry. That didn't happen. When I arrived outside his home, I was told by a couple of his paramedic friends that overnight and that morning, things had taken a drastic turn. “It's not good,” one told me.
All I could think about was the sadness happening inside the home.
Still, it meant a lot to his family and close friends that I share Terry's story.
I didn't personally know Terry, but what I observed and what I learned about him from his friends and paramedics was inspiring.
As those closest to Terry were saying their goodbyes, his close friend and paramedic Danny Deveau – who had been partners with Terry for six years – came outside to talk to me about Terry. His eyes red from tears, I am still in absolute awe of his generosity to share some of his time with me in what turned out to be the final half-hour of Terry's life.
He wanted me to know about how Terry had mentored other medics. He wanted me to know how much Terry cared for his patients, smoothing out the sheet each time someone got onto a stretcher. Wrinkles were disrespectful and Terry had nothing but respect for those he cared for.
Danny wanted me to know about the bedazzled shirt Terry wore when he tapped into his
Elvis persona to entertain others. Terry's love of The King of rock and roll was a big part of his life.
It made him happy, and those he entertained.
Before Danny went back inside for his final goodbye, he even wanted me to know about Terry the Tornado – the name Terry went by when he used to wrestle.
What I learned most about
Terry was that I wish I had known him.
After my story was posted online last week, the response was overwhelming – from the shares on social media, to the page views, to the comments people made about Terry, to the condolences they left for his family. One comment a friend left on my Facebook page after reading the story stuck with me especially. She said about the way I wrote about Terry, “If you didn't know him personally, you feel like you did after reading this.”
It's nice to be reminded about how much our words can be a gift to others.
I cried a few times on the day of Terry's tribute. When his wife and other family members came to the window and waved to the people outside, I couldn't stop my tears from flowing.
I cried again driving away from the scene, thinking of everything that had happened and the show of true community appreciation from the first responders, hospital staff and others present. A mother and her daughter, who many times had been on the receiving end of Terry's care, had also come out to pay their respect.
I was thanked repeatedly by Danny and his wife, and many paramedics, for being there to share Terry's story.
But honestly, it was me who felt thankful to have been asked to.
What an absolute honour.