My daughter is reading The Remains of the Day for her summer school assignment. I read the book many years ago and also saw the movie that starred Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson, and earned 8 academy award nominations.

The story is about an aging English butler, who reflects on his life and the notions of duty and dignity while traveling to visit a former housekeeper he was fond of.

I decided to read it again after all these years so I could discuss it with my daughter. Today in rereading it, I came across a telling passage in which the narrator, Stevens, the butler describes what dignity means to him. I thought it could well apply to a paramedic as to a butler when it comes to professionalism in the job.

He writes: “‘dignity’ has to do crucially with a butler’s ability not to abandon the professional being he inhabits. Lesser butlers will abandon their professional being for the private one at the least provocation. For such persons, being a butler is like playing some pantomime role; a small push, a slight stumble, and the façade will drop off to reveal the actor underneath. The great butlers are great by virtue of their ability to inhabit their professional role and inhabit it to the utmost; they will not be shaken out by external events, however surprising, alarming or vexing. They wear their professionalism as a decent gentleman will wear his suit: he will not let ruffians or circumstance tear it off him in the public gaze; he will discard it when, and only when, he wills to do so, and this will invariably be when he is entirely alone.”

Let’s substitute paramedic:

The great paramedics are great by virtue of their ability to inhabit their professional role and inhabit it to the utmost; they will not be shaken out by external events (difficult patients, crazed bystanders or unappreciative triage nurses), however surprising, alarming or vexing. They wear their professionalism as a decent gentleman will wear his suit: he will not let ruffians or circumstance tear it off him in the public gaze; he will discard it when, and only when, he wills to do so, and this will invariably be when he is entirely alone.”

I recently brought a patient to the hospital who, like many in EMS, was very demanding and difficult to deal with. While I was giving my report to the triage nurse I had known a long time, a nurse practitioner, who was listening in, asked how I was able to work as many years as I have and not burnout.

I replied that I had my days. I had moments that I was not proud of. But I had also developed a sort of mental ketamine where I could disassociate myself from the difficulties at hand and that helped me maintain an outward professionalism and not let the difficult patient affect the performance of my job.

It works most of the time. But like I said, I have lost my cool on more than one occasion, and regret all of them.

I always admire those paramedics who are able to keep their cool, who don’t lose their shit either in front of the public and in front of their peers. I imagine them at home after a long shift, uniform off, beer in hand sitting alone reflecting on the day. They may shake their head at the memory of a patient, but they know what their job is and they take pride in the dignity with which they perform it.

I could relate that passage to my daughter as regards her love of basketball. Don’t lose your cool on the court. Treat success and defeat the same. Hold your head up. Don’t despair when you miss a shot or the coach yells at you or the ref makes a bad call. And don’t taunt your opponents in victory. Set an example.

If you get a chance, read the book or watch the movie. Great stuff.