It was weeks ago now, but I still sometimes hear those gasping breaths in my ear.
Quiet moments, low moments when I'm on my own not doing very much, I still replay the sound of a man dying in my head. We all heard it through our earpieces - those desperate struggles for air while the officer on scene kept hitting his transmit button by accident while giving CPR.
He was a bad man, no loss to society, and if he'd led a law abiding life he'd probably still be alive. The kind of person I spend my working life fighting against, the kind of person prison's too good for.
But he died on my watch, and I don't like that. I mourn him.
I also worry for my colleague who tried and failed to save him - a man I've never met, but communicate with via phone and radio all day, every day. I know how hard he tried to save this criminal's life, and I have no way to ask him how he feels about it.
This is a seriously weird job.
That is truly horrific. It is made worse by the fact some people don't respect the police and make it more difficult with another thought. I wish everyone could read this and know what it is like to live with it as maybe they would see how important the police are, but hopefully realise how lucky they really are.
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