What are the odds?

What are the odds that my job would purchase a program that quizes dispatchers on how they would handle calls – and that the first lesson, which has three calls, would have the Denise Amber Lee case? The call was the one from the lady who reported a child in a car screaming.  The minute she said “blue camero” and that there was a child screaming – I knew it was my case.

I couldn’t stop myself from crying as I listened to this woman describe the car and the child who ended up being Denise screaming in the backseat.  It was awful.  The dispatcher didn’t put it together that the case was related to the kidnapping.  I often wondered what the caller said during the call but never enough to want to listen to it.  Tonight I had to listen to it because it was part of the quiz – I had to answer questions on what the driver said and things the dispatcher could have done differently.

I have to say, it hit me pretty hard when I realized it was my case.  I had to stop the call, compose myself and then listen to it.  Listening to it was tough and made me think, once again, that I don’t want to do this anymore.  I don’t want the possibility of those kinds of calls – I don’t want the responsibility of trying to help people and then the guilt when I can’t.  I need to find a new line of work.

I also don’t want this call coming back when I’m not prepared for it.  At least if I seek it out, I have had time to prepare myself but when it comes out of nowhere, it hits me hard.  It is salt in a wound that will take a long, long time to heal.