In 1968, when 18-year-old Barry Eberly was ready for EMS, he barely noticed that EMS hadn鈥檛 been invented yet.
鈥淢y father was a firefighter and ambulance attendant at the Camden-Wyoming (Delaware) Volunteer Fire Company,鈥� Eberly said. 鈥淏eing a typical son, I joined as soon as I could and ended up on the ambulance.
鈥淢y first call was an automobile accident. Our patient was a young lady who was alert and oriented; even I couldn鈥檛 do her any great harm.鈥�
The 鈥渁mbulance attendant鈥� title Eberly and his father shared was a primitive EMS certification.
鈥淒elaware was a little slow to pick up the concept of EMTs, but the title didn鈥檛 matter to me as much as the way I鈥檇 been brought up,鈥� Eberly said. 鈥淢y parents raised my sister and me to help people. Volunteering turned out to be an extension of that.鈥�
Between 1968 and 1971, Eberly discovered he was a much better volunteer than a student.
鈥淚 was attending the University of Delaware and wanted to keep riding, so I got permission to respond with Newark鈥檚 fire department,鈥� he said.
鈥淏ack in those days, when I was still in some sort of physical shape, I鈥檇 actually run a mile-and-a-half from the dorm to the station to make an engine or ambulance. I ended up spending too much time on that, which made me something less than the world鈥檚 best student.鈥�
A Rumor of war
Eberly had resumed volunteering at Camden-Wyoming when he was summoned for duty halfway around the world.
鈥淚n 1971, Uncle Sam gave me a call and said he鈥檇 like me to visit Southeast Asia,鈥� Eberly said, wryly, of his draft notice. 鈥淚 tried to get into EOD (explosive ordnance disposal), just for the challenge, but my captain told me, 鈥榊ou don鈥檛 want to do that.鈥�
鈥淚 was assigned to medical laboratory school at Fort Sam Houston in Texas, where they made me a lab tech. From there I went to Cam Ranh Bay in Vietnam to do free-radical assays and thin-layer chromatography on soldiers who were being tested for drugs.
鈥淚 had volunteered for Dust Off (Army medevacs) but was told it was a higher priority to clear people from drug abuse than pull them out of the jungle.鈥�
Eberly says he learned more during 17 months in the service than he had in his previous 21 years.
鈥淚t was mostly figuring out how to get along with all kinds of people in a variety of physical and emotional states 鈥� not unlike what we do in EMS.鈥�
Back to the world
Eberly returned to Delaware in 1972 and took a job riding ambulances for the city of Dover.
鈥淎s I got closer to figuring out what I wanted to do with my life, there were rumors the city might send people to paramedic school. I went in 1979.
鈥淎 lot of that had to do with the National Highway Safety Act and the paper on accidental death and disability (in 1966),鈥� Eberly said. 鈥淭hat turned into a national movement.鈥�
After 17 years as a paramedic and supervisor, Eberly became an instructor at Dover鈥檚 Bayhealth Medical Center. He started to see himself and his fellow educators as EMS gatekeepers.
鈥淚 found out not everyone learns at the same speed. Additionally, students don鈥檛 get equal opportunities; one may get four really good teaching cases in a day, while another goes a week without anything challenging.
鈥淭here seems to be a mindset that succeed or fail, everyone deserves an award, but I think most people who work in medicine know that some are cut out for it and some aren鈥檛. Teachers are well-positioned to be part of that decision-making process.鈥�
Life refractory to death
Eberly found an unusual call in 1994 especially educational.
鈥淢y partner, Dawn, and I had been assigned two paramedic students during a 14-hour shift. Sometime during that night, we got a call for a cardiac arrest.
鈥淲e found the patient, a man in his 80s, sitting in a recliner, quite obviously not breathing and most likely pulseless. Nevertheless, the student acting as team leader tried to engage the gentleman in conversation.
鈥淲ell, Dawn gave that kid a moderate hip check and advised both students they鈥檇 better start using some of the equipment we鈥檇 brought with us.
鈥淚t was one of those runs where you get complexes, pulses, and even respiratory effort every now and then. I was hopeful for a while, but we had pulseless bradycardia at the hospital. When that became asystole, the ER physician pronounced the patient. Then he changed his mind when I told him we鈥檇 seen signs of life earlier.
鈥淲e gave it another 20 minutes or so, during which the patient once again went into PEA followed by asystole. The physician pronounced him a second time, then went to talk to the family. Someone covered the patient with a sheet and we left the room.
鈥淥ne of the hospital custodians who鈥檇 been cleaning up in that bay came to get me about five minutes later. He thought I鈥檇 want to see what was going on. He was right: The sheet over the 鈥榙ead鈥� patient was rising and falling! I told the custodian to find the doctor, tell him not to say anything more to the family and come back right away. Then we took the sheet off and resumed resuscitation.
鈥淭he following morning that patient was extubated. He lived another three-and-a-half years neurologically intact.鈥�
A slower pace
In 2014, after 46 years in EMS, Eberly retired.
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| Eberly monitors students in the simulation lab. (Image Barry Eberly) |
鈥淚鈥檇 been doing clinicals with students,鈥� he said. 鈥淪ometimes we鈥檇 go 16 or 20 hours without seeing a patient older than me. I figured maybe the big EMS god in the sky was trying to tell me that now would be a good time to get serious about fly-fishing and golf.
鈥淭he truth is I miss EMS enormously. You develop a lot of relationships. It鈥檚 very satisfying to see people you鈥檝e taught go out and do good things.
鈥淥n the other hand, I do enjoy fishing and golf.鈥�
Author鈥檚 note: Eberly and Bruce Nepon are co-authors of the book and is the autobiography of Marine Lieutenent Philip J. Caputo and his 16-month deployment to Viet Nam as Caputo explains, of 鈥渢he things men do in war and the things war does to men.鈥�
