Come on in, sit down, and slide in close a minute.
Let’s talk about something nobody puts on a certificate: professional bedside manner. Not the fake, syrupy, customer-service-script version. The real kind. The kind you keep on tap whether you feel like it or not, because the patient in front of you didn’t ask for your mood, your morning, or your opinion about the call.
New EMTs, listen up. Old boots, you too—because some of you have gotten sloppy and started calling it “keeping it real.”
The Big Lie We Tell Ourselves
There’s a lie that floats around this profession, and it goes something like this: 911 is real EMS, and IFT is just driving a couch with wheels. That lie gives people permission to be lazy, short, and careless with patients who supposedly “don’t need” the good version of you.
Here’s the truth. The patient on the IFT transfer didn’t get a memo saying today’s crew is running on autopilot. They don’t know it’s your fourth transfer of the shift. They don’t care that you’ve done this a thousand times. For them, this is the first time. Maybe the only time.
Whatever they think of this job, this system, this hospital—you are the face of it for the next however-many minutes. That’s the whole gig. That’s the job underneath the job.
Meeting Patients Where They Are
Some patients are scared. Some are in pain. Some are confused, combative, embarrassed, or just plain tired of being sick. None of that is a reason for you to bring less of yourself to the call. If anything, it’s the reason you bring more.
You meet people where they are. Not where you wish they were. Not where you were an hour ago before the day went sideways. Where they are, right now, on the worst day they might be having.
That doesn’t mean you let a patient walk on you. It doesn’t mean you tolerate abuse. It means you find the version of professional that fits the moment—firm when it needs to be firm, gentle when it needs to be gentle—without ever losing the thread of who you are supposed to be.
The Real Pro Move: Control Without Being a Prick
You can run a scene, set a tone, and keep control of a call without turning into a jerk to do it. That’s the actual skill. Anybody can bark orders. Anybody can get loud and pushy and call it “command presence.” The real pro move is control with respect still attached.
Here’s a script that works more often than people want to admit:
“Hey, I’m ___ with EMS. What’s your name?”
“Tell me what’s going on right now.”
“Alright—here’s what I’m doing next.”
Three lines. Name, listen, narrate. It sounds simple because it is. And it works because it treats the patient like a person who deserves to know what’s happening to them, instead of a body you’re moving from point A to point B.
Next-Call Takeaways
Do these on the very next run:
- Door-handle reset. Whatever happened on the last call, leave it at the door. This patient gets a clean slate version of you.
- Fix your face. Your expression talks before you do. Make sure it isn’t saying something you don’t mean.
- Use the three-line script. Name, listen, narrate.
- One question, one job. Ask what you need to ask, do what you need to do. Don’t overload the patient with everything at once.
- Narrate one thing during movement. Tell them what’s happening while you’re moving them. Silence during motion is unsettling for most people.
- One dignity move per call. A blanket. A closed curtain. A quiet word. Something that says you see them as a person.
- The partner rule. If your partner slips, help pull them back—quietly, not in front of the patient.
- The D-bag filter. Before you say it, ask yourself if it needs saying at all. If not, don’t.
You can be salty. You can’t be sloppy. You can be tired. You can’t be cruel. And you don’t get to bring your baggage into someone else’s emergency.
That’s the lesson.
—OGP