Sam and I became crewmates at the beginning of 2012. I had previously had two crewmates, my first being Big Al, we were together for a year in total and had a good relationship. My second crew mate was Jemma, we were together for approximately 8 months and she has a heart of gold. Sam has a reputation for being quiet and for keeping himself to himself. I had worked that one shift with him and we got on well. I was given a choice of two people to be permanently crewed with, stay at my base station with Sam or go to another station, further away from home to work with a female colleague. I did take some time to think about it but I’m so thankful I chose Sam. We are on the same level, we have similar values, morals and work ethic. I had trust in him and felt safe whenever we found ourselves in scary situations and I always knew he had my back.

I hadn’t quite realised the extent of the relationship that was involved in having a long term crewmate. It’s a bond that becomes strong, we came to rely on each other to make the shift bearable, especially in our later years. I developed an anxiousness whenever Sam was off work and I would try to take my annual leave at the same time as him. I had become dependant on him to make me feel comfortable in an environment where comfort was constantly being revoked.

The job is an endless driver of emotions, good and bad, and to share it with someone so calm and understanding has without a doubt allowed me to become a better medic. Not only have I learnt so much from Sam over the years, I’ve enjoyed the friendship that came with it. Sam has seen more emotions spill out from me than anyone else in the world. Not only emotions produced by the things we deal with at work but he’s been a strong and constant support when my personal life has been left in tatters after relationships have broken down and family bereavements have left me numb.

What became one of my favourite things about him is the expression on his face when we were with someone he liked. In a role that draws on you to despise the general public and all they stand for, all we needed was a feisty granny, a patient with Down Syndrome, a sweet child or a dog. Sam would then transform, his whole demeanour would change, he would be right there with them, on their level and offering kind, supportive words. You could see it on his face, it was like his insides had been warmed and this softness seeping out was the ultimate show of empathy. This extended to me too in a work capacity, he would always reassure me if I became concerned or paranoid that I had done something wrong, he always believed in me and my abilities even though I had so many doubts about myself.

One occasion only did we disagree and I’m blaming it on being hangry. As long as we managed to get ourselves fed and get some coffee, the stresses and perpetual thoughts of wanting to quit were that little bit quieter. It was something we talked about regularly, many times did we wish for a little accident on the road that would cause a small fracture each, somewhere important, rendering us unable to work over the summer and giving us the break we so desperately craved. Our wish did transpire but manifested itself in a different way.

The gentleman in him is natural and unspoken, Sam always took the oxygen bag, the heavy bag to carry, unless I got there first to try to even out the ratio in an attempt to appease my own guilt over the issue. It was a completely selfless act of modern day chivalry which unfortunately for him led to an incident that dislocated his shoulder and left him unable to work for a year. For this I am forever grateful, without Sam sat next to me in that ambulance I crumbled and I needed to crumble to change my life for the better.