When Trauma Doesn’t End at the Scene
At a bus stop in 2018, three siblings were struck and killed. Another young boy was critically injured.
Last week, the trauma from that incident claimed another life.
Paramedic Jacob Amos responded to the scene that day. He saw the children who were killed. He treated the critically injured boy—who was later transferred to my hospital.
Last week, Jake died as a result of PTSD.
According to his memorial, Jake sought treatment. He even entered inpatient care, trying to carry on. He continued working as a paramedic, which meant—inevitably—responding to other pediatric emergencies over the years.
The trauma didn’t stay in one moment. It followed him.
I was part of the team that supported the critically injured child after that bus stop incident.
I sat in consult rooms with his family.
I visited his hospital room during recovery.
When reporters repeatedly contacted the family, I worked with our hospital marketing team to stop it.
Even in my own journal at the time, I wrote about how devastating this was for everyone involved.
So when I saw the news of Jake’s death last week, I was deeply saddened.
But I was also furious.
Not at Jake.
According to some commentors, his department didn’t provide any mental health resources to Jake or his colleagues after that horrific call. If that’s true (and it often is), it makes me so angry.
I applaud Jake for seeking treatment. Many people never do. That takes courage.
And here’s the harder truth we don’t like to say out loud:
Healthcare has always been hard.
Before COVID.
Before acts of violence in hospitals.
Before political interference and non-science
It has always been hard.
Why?
Because people die.
Kids die.
And people care.
When you care deeply, you don’t just clock out of trauma. You carry it.
Jake’s death is not a failure of effort or willpower. It’s a reminder that exposure to repeated trauma—especially when it’s unrelenting and cumulative—affects people.
And that good, dedicated professionals can still be overwhelmed, even when they try to get help.
So here’s the ask—plain and urgent:
Check on your coworker.
Check again, even if they say they’re “fine.”
If you’re a leader, this is not optional. Supporting coworkers after crisis is part of the job
If you want to preview my on-demand leadership course, Supporting Coworkers in Crisis, you can find it here:
👉 https://www.myburnouthub.com/leadership-essentials-section-4
Because caring for people who care for others isn’t soft work.
It’s necessary work.