I write this as I go for a long walk at 8:30 at night to clear my head. No distractions. It may not be well written so please bare that in mind but it is something I’ve been thinking about since Steve was murdered.

Steven Tougher was an incredibly kind human being and a good clinician. I rarely saw him without a smile and was always up for a chat whether it be clinical or random life stuff. It’s not just the loss of Steve that has hit every first responder and health worker hard but the nature in which it happened.

I have been trying to put into words my emotions but in all honesty I’m just numb. So instead of commenting on how I feel about the situation, I’m going to talk about how I know I’ll be able to keep working in the profession I love.

I know I can continue putting on the uniform thanks to my colleagues, my mates. Every Paramedic is hurting and angry at the moment and yet the kindness and compassion I have seen, not only between colleagues but to other emergency services, health workers and our patients is incredible. The compassion also shown to paramedics, including me, is just as incredible.

It puts on full display the reasons why people choose to be a first responder or health worker. I cannot count the number of welfare checks I have received. In the beginning they were frustrating because I couldn’t articulate how I was feeling but I have come to accept there are no words to describe it right now. People accept that and agree because we are all in this shit fight together.

I thank each and every one if you who have checked in on me! It means a lot more than anyone will realise.

I know I can continue putting on the uniform thanks to the patients. It’s so easy to remember each poorly behaved, ungrateful or aggressive patient but if we actually sit down and think about a regular set of 4 shifts, the vast majority of our patients would be as kind as they could be given their circumstances. Everyone deals with adversity differently. I worked the nightshift after Steven was murdered and the most interesting thing happened. None of our patients brought up the incident but you could tell they knew what had happened and understood things might be a little different for us that night. Using body language they conveyed compassion and empathy. Something that continues to stick in my mind.

I also had to remind myself of each and every appreciation letter I’ve personally received in the last 13 years. In fact I have received a few already this year but I’ll share one with you now that is de-identified of course and that emphasises to me the importance of our role in the community.

An elderly lady and her kids had COVID. The kids were at home with their mum and were concerned about her breathing, paleness/blue lips and inability to mobilise. The patient had competency and capacity to make a decision on her health and she was refusing to go to hospital. Oxygen therapy improved her condition but as soon as it was removed she deteriorated. She understood she might die overnight if she didn’t receive treatment in hospital. We were on scene for a a few hours with this lady to ensure her safety and before she agreed to be transported. Below is the appreciation letter from her family:

My mum was veryresistant to got to hospital but the paramedics were so patient and determined that she got the care she needed. They even called their supervisor to get permission for my sister to travel in the ambulance with my mum (my mum has severe anxiety and a fear of hospitals, so you can imagine how difficult she was being) because my mum was refusing to go to hospital.

My mum arrived in the emergency department of Liverpool hospitaland was intubated within an hour of arrival. As Isaid in my initial communication, fi the paramedics had left, which would have been understandable given my mum was initially refusing transport, it's likely she would no longer be alive, given how dire her condition was.

Additionally, my 2 sisters and I also had COVID. We were unwell with fevers and extremely emotional and frustrated and scared in those moments when the paramedicswere with us. But they were so professional, compassionate and patient with everyone.

Mum is finally back at home after being on a ventilator and in ICU for 10 days, and a ward for a further 10 days.

I am not sure what else I can do to express my appreciation of their work and my gratitude for their help, but please can you pass this on to them and let them know that my sister, my mum (who doesn't actually recall them being here because she was so unwell) and Iwill never forget that their kindness andassistance played a crucial part in saving my mums life.

Thank you.

The appreciation letter above is the biggest reason I’ll keep putting on my blue uniform and turning up to work. It’s the compassion, time and empathy you give a family or patient that can make the biggest difference and I don’t want that to change. I want to feel good about the work my colleagues and I do. I’ll admit that not every job will be like this but the ones where you can make a difference means the world to me.

Steve will be remembered forever, but I wish we could just keep working with him and have his smile light up the workplace.