Caring for the Caregivers: Our Response to Uvalde’s Frontline

A BACKSEAT VIEW OF A FRONTLINE CRISIS CaringCaregivers for the

By Cheri Love-Moceri

There are only a handful of moments in life that- when reflected upon- we remember exactly where we were, and all the vivid, little details of the moment, as if time stood still long enough for our mind to sketch it’s picture. Tuesday, May 24, 2022, would sadly deliver one of those unforgettable moments. I think we all remember where we were when news broke that 19 children and two adults were killed in the senseless shooting at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas. And though the emotions of that horrific day can be easily recalled, I find myself more often reflecting on the day after... the day when strangers mourned strangers, political lines in the sand faded, and communities from miles around rushed to the aid of a historically sleepy town to offer their skills, their hands, and their hearts. I was blessed to bear witness to that humanity swell up like a tidal wave when I was invited to travel with our EMS Relations Managers and their dogs as they ran towards the anxious, broken spirits waiting for them in Uvalde. I arrived at the Northwest Technology Center around 9 a.m., met at the door by Brandon Miller and his fourlegged partner, Chanel. We greeted one another with facial expressions that acknowledged the day ahead would be overwhelming. We walked inside to find Frankie Trifilio

hurriedly mapping out plans in a war room of sorts, scattered with papers and empty coffee cups. With his dog Lady laying at his feet, he held a phone to his ear in one hand, and gathered gruesome details of the event with a pen in the other- feverishly taking notes. Moments later, Jason Miller arrived with Fresca by his side. After a few hugs, deep breaths, and a team pep talk of sorts, we all hopped into an SUV to begin our journey to Uvalde. What followed next took me somewhat by surprise. As Brandon helmed the wheel, Frankie began to flip through his pages of notes to discuss the day’s plan as a team. As I sat listening from the third row, sandwiched between our canine companions, I was struck by the unexpected level of research done and the orchestration necessary to arrange for the dogs to visit the healthcare workers and first responders. Recounting the busy morning, Frankie had already connected with Uvalde’s Incident Command Post, Region 20 Incident Response Team, Southwest Texas Regional Advisory Council, and multiple first responder agencies. He knew the locations of every support resource for families, which officers were on duty at the Uvalde Police Department during the event, and which ambulance companies had managed the transport of victims. He had already been in touch with both the CEO and trauma management staff at Uvalde Memorial Hospital and knew how many patients they received, what floor each patient was on, and where transferred patients had been sent. These were all important details so the team would know where to focus their efforts upon arrival to a town brimming with emotional trauma. Our first stop was the hospital, a scene of panicked crowds the day before as families desperately searched for both answers and loved ones. The residual energy was still palpable as we walked past the American and Texas flags, somberly swaying at half-mast. Once inside, the team immediately began making connections to staff, letting the dogs serve as a friendly handshake to those they approached. Moments prior, a bus carrying ten of our chaplains led by VP of Pastoral Care, Austin Frederick, had just arrived. It was heartwarming to see the outpour of care and immediacy of response of so many Methodist Healthcare employees who wanted to do anything they could to help. Each chaplain was dispersed to an area of need and so were we. We first visited the ER, followed by the surgical floor, and then the rehabilitation unit. In each location, the men would read the room and pinpoint an area or person that gave non-verbal cues of being in distress. Sometimes they would go up to the staff member and introduce their dog. Other times, they would strategically position themselves and wait for the doctor, nurse, or tech to slowly engage with the dogs in their own time, often “They really do absorb the energies of us humans. It’s like they unburden us from our darkest feelings and selflessly take them on themselves.”

Photo Above: EMS Relations Manager, Frankie Trifilio, gathers details of the Uvalde tragedy to prepare for visit.

sneaking in a gentle pet or quick scratch behind the ear, careful to not draw too much attention to themselves. Time and again, I watched the dogs create a portal to safety, giving people permission to let their guard down, tears drop, smiles expand, and simply feel. Whatever the feeling under the surface, it was ushered out.

As we walked out of the building, Frankie turned to his peers, “Did you see what he did?” referring to a staff member. “That poor guy is doing his best to hold it together, but did you see that he just tried to make a phone call using his calculator?” Despite standing right next to the gentleman, I’m ashamed to say I hadn’t even noticed. But the team certainly did. To the untrained eye, these managers are just making small talk and the dogs are just along for the ride in hopes of some attention. In reality, they are all paying attention to every step, eye movement, fluctuation in voice and word choice. They use these cues to inform their own responses. As employees at Methodist Healthcare, we often see the EMS Relations Managers and the dogs making the rounds at our hospitals, but they also focus on first responders. Our next destination was the Uvalde Police Department. Though emotions were certainly visible at the hospital, the heaviness of the station was a stark contrast. Smiles and wagging tails seemed very out of place, but Jason, Brandon, and Frankie respectfully persisted, finding common ground to initiate conversations with the guarded, subdued staff. All three have extensive backgrounds as first responders, which helped to build trust amongst the weary officers. But the guys weren’t the only ones skillfully looking for ways to connect. Lady marched to the center of the tense room, rolled over, and lay motionless on her back. I’m told that she uses this tactic frequently, waiting people out until they finally give in as she shamelessly beckons for belly rubs. After four solid minutes of patient stillness, an officer approached and caressed her face. For the first time in several minutes, her tale wagged and the energy of the room began to shift. Chanel and Fresca used their superpowers, too. Able to read body language and detect energies, they each assessed the humans in the room and made a beeline for those experiencing the most emotional distress. As the tensions eased, each EMS manager stepped through the gate left propped open by their dog and went deeper into their conversations with the officers. I watched as Frankie discretely and quietly spent quality time with the evidence manager. The young man had been so cautious and reserved since our arrival. Suddenly, he went into great detail about the inconceivable events he endured, almost seeming relieved to discuss the horrors of the previous day. It was plain- he simply needed the right invitation to share, and I think it made a world of difference.

Before heading back to San Antonio, the team also visited with FBI agents and several community volunteers at the Civic Center – Uvalde’s’ home base for all the families most directly impacted by the tragedy. We also drove around the town, taking time to appreciate the marquee signs of support from local businesses, as well as the mounds of flowers and candles placed in tribute of the precious lives lost. As the dogs lay snoring in the back of the SUV, we talked.

“My wife can always tell what kind of day I’ve had just based on the behavior of Chanel when we get home,” commented Brandon. On days when the dogs encounter staff feeling particularly anxious or down, the dogs will often display more exhaustion and retreat to bed early. “They really do absorb the energies of us humans. It’s like they unburden us from our darkest feelings and selflessly take them on themselves.”

“You can’t underestimate the power of judgmentfree love,” added

Jason. “Most people don’t know the intensive training and skill involved because they only see a panting, welcoming face. These dogs are such masters of their craft. They are the cure to a sadness many didn’t allow themselves to realize they had.” Three hours and one roadside dinner later, they stood in the empty parking lot of the Northwest Technology Center once again, reflecting on their experiences. “I’m really humbled and honored to have been in the presence of some very strong and resilient souls today,” said Frankie. “I’m so proud of the dogs and for the difference they made. To their credit, they responded to people that needed them and I’m just really honored to be a part of their circle.”

“There were a lot of incredible stories told today, and there were a lot of stories that were not told,” said Brandon. “I just feel blessed to have seen communities come together and bring out the best of humanity.” After walking around in their towering shadows that day, I certainly gained a deeper appreciation for the process and complexity of what they do. I also learned that our EMS Relations Managers do so much more than share the gifts given by Lady, Fresca, and Chanel. They support our Centralized Transport Center by developing metrics and goals, conduct new hire orientation/training, and coordinate complex transports. They serve 11 campuses as the primary point of contact for EMS, operations leadership, and EMS medical directors, are instructors in the Methodist Healthcare EMS Academy, and support all emergency management and disaster response drills across the System. And that as they say- is just the tip of the iceberg. Added Frankie, “We’d like to thank Methodist Healthcare for allowing us to do this work. It means a lot to us and a lot to our profession.” As with all healthcare professionals, so much goes on behind the scenes to ensure people are being well cared for. You all make it seem so effortless, but a lot of effort goes into the illusion of ease. It’s serious business caring for others, whether in our hospitals or miles away in neighboring communities. Please know it does not go unnoticed and that you are each so appreciated. So if you happen to find a furry visitor in your department soon, be sure to give her a pat on the head, but perhaps be sure to give her human handler a pat on the back, too.