In the office today, we were talking about some experiences we’ve had, and one of them was about how most people have had toilet paper stuck to their shoe. I remarked that I hadn’t, but I was pretty sure that I had done something no one on else in the office had done.
They wondered what. After some brief moments of thought, I decided it was safe to tell them.
It was one of those early morning fire calls, the kind that wakes you out of a dead sleep with a shot of adrenaline that hides all thought and reasoning. Anyone who has ever answered one of those calls knows what I mean but, for those of you who haven’t, I’ll describe it.
Imagine you are in a sound, dead-to-the-world kind of sleep. Suddenly, out of nowhere, an alarm wakes you. Years of responding to that alarm has created a Pavlov’s dog out of you, and the rush of adrenaline fills your soul and awakens your heart. There have been many times when I got out of bed, got dressed, arrived at the station and donned my gear without ever being able to remember a single one of those moments. There I’d be, ready to go, boarding a fire truck to some emergency somewhere having no idea how I got there.
It sometimes happened at about that time when the sudden wakefulness showed its price. As I’d ask “what’s the call?” I’d realize that my body had certain functions that needed addressing. Sometimes it would be a matter of pee, and others it is a much more serious endeavor. I continued the story.
“There was once when I responded to a working house fire and realized when I got in the house that I had to go to the bathroom. I tried hard to hold it, but it really started to hurt.”
I described how, in the midst of a working house fire, I had used the home’s bathroom to relieve myself. There I was, hose in hand and turnout pants down about my ankles, sitting on the toilet trying my best to hurry. I let myself go just to the point where the pain stopped. It only took me a few seconds, but it seemed like hours.
“And, no, I didn’t have any toilet paper stuck to my shoe.” And, yes, I did flush.
Duty calls, but sometimes so does dooty. Sometimes you have to answer both at the same time.
Once we had a fire in a commercial building and I had to pee. I got caught by a chief while using the urinal.
“Make sure you grab the right hose,” was all he said.
I got to my partner who was dutifully standing just outside the bathroom door. “Thanks, brother.”
“Hey, he asked what I was doing so I told him I was waiting for you. He had to see it to believe it.”
“I’m just happy I was in the men’s room.”
Early in my career it was easy to forget about bodily functions during a fire or rescue assignment. Your body gets in that “fight or flight” place and all bodily needs are forgotten until the excitement wears off. As you gain experience, however, it takes a lot more to get one excited enough that poop in the shoot or rain in the drain are able to be ignored. If the situation calls for it, you need relief. If the situation is life or death, the need for relief vanishes. You soon realize your body knows what is going on, so if you felt the need for relief things probably weren’t that serious. I can say with certainty that if someone’s life was in danger there isn’t a firefighter I know that would feel the need to use the rest room.
It may be one of those things that we in first response rarely talk about, but we’ve all experienced. That “oh shit” moment that is quite literal in scope and plentiful in nature. But don’t worry, we all seem to remember to flush.