Confessions of a Former Dispatcher

Sept. 10, 2014
Mush-mouth. Insistence on undivided attention. Gender-bias. As a former public safety telecommunications operator, I faced many of these on a daily basis.

I have a confession to make. This definitely isn’t an easy one by any stretch of the imagination. I told myself I would never, NEVER do this because I knew firsthand how difficult the job was. I understood what it was like to be on the other side. So, I would never, ever, ever do this. But I did. I found myself sitting in the driver’s seat of the ambulance, listening to the radio and ready to respond to a call. The dispatcher gave the information and I replied. Then she repeated back what she heard and it wasn’t at all what I said. So I did it. It might have been under my breath, but I said it, “Stupid dispatcher. Can’t you just get it right?” As soon as I said it, I immediately got bowled over with a wave of guilt. I was a traitor. It made me start thinking about all the things that used to drive me crazy as a dispatcher and what it looked like from the other side. But, being on the “officer/firefighter/medic” side of the radio has taught me a number of things and I’m not proud of myself. That is why I’m making this confession.

Mush-Mouth

One of the things that used to drive me crazy and I know I’m not alone in this is when someone would clear on the radio and it sounded like they had a sock in their mouth or that their tongue was stuck to the back of their teeth with peanut butter. Their words more closely resembled the teacher in Peanuts than a public safety professional attempting to transmit important information. At times, I almost took this personally. I would sit there on my dispatch throne and think all kinds of thoughts about how they should learn to enunciate and were just making my job harder. They needed to think things through, open their lips the appropriate amount, wet their tongue and speak CLEARLY. Then one night, I found myself on the other side of the radio responding to an emergency medical call at 3 am that woke me from a dead sleep. I jumped into the ambulance, grabbed the radio, depressed the talk button, and...mush-mouth came out. Even though my mind had processed what I was trying to say, my lips and tongue did not cooperate in responding in time for my turn on the radio. When the dispatcher asked me to repeat, instead of realizing my mistake in not waiting until I knew my vocal cords were behaving properly, I just mentally bashed the dispatcher for not understanding me. For this I apologize.

Another dispatcher?

Again, I don’t believe I am the only one who feels this way in the public safety telecommunications world but I could be wrong. It always threw me off to hear a female on the radio. Now, I know there are a lot of us doing the job of police officer, firefighter and medic, but we are still greatly outnumbered by the men. And, the men seem to do an abnormally large amount of talking on the radio. So, as a dispatcher you expect to hear a masculine voice on the radio. When you hear a feminine one instead, it throws you off a bit. It’s like you’re listening to another dispatcher and it can take a minute to realize that the other female is talking to you and that you need to respond. Now that I’m on the other side of the radio, I swear I get a delay in response when I clear. My guess is it’s due to the gender thing and instead of recognizing the years I did that and being compassionate, I just get irritated and want to stomp up to dispatch and explain a thing or two about women being out in the field as well and how it shouldn’t surprise them. Again, I apologize.

Pay attention to me, NOW!

My worst sin in the switch over to the other side is feeling as if everything I say on the radio is ultra important, needing to be responded to immediately without delay. Since leaving the radio room and crossing over, I have become the center of my own universe. I seem to have forgotten the dozens of other units in the dispatcher’s area of responsibility and the incredible multi-tasking that goes on. The phone calls, information look ups, typing, talking, listening to the room, etc. etc that is happening on the other end of my radio doesn’t even occur to me. It has become all about me and me needing to have the dispatcher’s undivided attention as soon as I speak and until I no longer need her or him. Even as I type this, I realize how ludicrous this ideology is, but for some reason it still permeates my head as soon as I reach for the mic. I ask for forgiveness for my past impatience and all the future times that are inevitable.

Being a public safety dispatcher is one of the most difficult, yet rewarding jobs in the world. There is a sense of powerfulness while at the same time a helplessness that comes from not being able to physically do anything to change a situation. Dispatchers coordinate, facilitate and handle all the issues those of us in the field throw at them minute to minute. They have our backs. They care about our welfare. They want to help us do our jobs and make sure we go home at the end of the shift. That is why, I, as a former angel of the radio feel so awful about my behavior on the other side of the radio. From this day forward, I promise to try and do better, make my thoughts more compassionate and realistic and be grateful for how my dispatchers make my life easier and safer. I will even croak out a syllable or two before I pick up the radio on that 3 am call so that you actually have a chance of understanding anything I’m saying. Thanks for having my back.

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