04/25/2025
The Ones Who Showed Up
By: Sophie Fuller
We don’t get here alone. None of us. Behind every competent medic is someone who stayed after a shift to walk them through the hard calls, the messy feelings, the why-didn’t-I-do-it-different moments. Not a PowerPoint. Not a protocol update. A person.
Mentorship in EMS doesn’t wear a name tag or introduce itself formally. It looks like a glance across the bench seat that says, You’ve got this. It sounds like, You did everything right, even when the outcome says otherwise. It’s someone handing you a Gatorade instead of a lecture after your first rough code. It’s the partner who lets you cry on the ride back and still treats you like a badass afterward.
In this job, growth doesn’t come from climbing a ladder—it comes from being built. Brick by brick, mistake by mistake, call by call. And the builders? They’re the ones who remember what it felt like to be new. Who don’t gatekeep the lessons they learned the hard way. Who teach not because it’s in their job description, but because someone once did it for them.
The best mentors don’t demand your respect—they earn it, in the quiet way they lead, in how they treat the most difficult patients, in how they never make you feel small for asking questions. They correct without humiliating. They push without punishing. They protect you—not from the work, but from the self-doubt that comes with it.
You don’t always get to choose your mentor in EMS. Sometimes it’s the salty old medic you were warned about. Sometimes it’s the EMT with fewer certs but twice the heart. Sometimes it’s someone you’ll never see again—but in one call, they change how you’ll do the job forever.
And when it’s your turn, you pay it forward. Because you remember what it felt like to not know. And you remember who showed up anyway.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t in tears while writing this— because it matters, it changed me, it built me.