Trauma Shears Earned a Spot in My Everyday EMT EDC Gear Kit
They’re not something I set out to carry. I don’t have a uniform, and I don’t move through the day expecting to need anything more serious than a pen or a small light. The shears showed up the way a lot of things do, by accident, then stayed because removing them never quite made it to the top of the list.
At first they felt out of place. Too big for a pocket, too specific to feel casual. They don’t disappear the way a small multitool does. You’re aware of them when you reach into the bag, the blunt nose catching slightly on the lining, the handles taking up more room than they seem like they should. They push other things around. A notebook shifts, a charging cable ends up coiled tighter than usual. It’s a small kind of friction, but it’s there every time.
For a week or so, I kept thinking I’d take them out. They didn’t belong with the rest of what I carry, which tends to earn its spot by being used without thinking. The shears just sat there, noticeable and unused, which is usually the fastest way something gets demoted to a drawer.
But then there were these small moments. Cutting open one of those thick plastic packages that never tear where you want them to. Trimming a loose thread on a jacket without having to go find the kitchen scissors. Snipping through a zip tie that my pocket knife would have handled, but less cleanly and with more fiddling. None of it was dramatic. Just a few quiet times where they were the right shape for the job, and I didn’t have to go looking for anything else.
They never made it into my pockets. I tried once, just to see, and it lasted until I sat down in the car and felt the handles press in an odd way against my leg. That was enough. They went back into the bag, back to that side pocket where they still don’t quite settle. It turns out I don’t want to feel them on me, but I also don’t want them far away.
What’s strange is how quickly they became something I check for without thinking about it. Not every day. Some mornings I grab the bag and go, and only notice later, when I’m reaching for something else, whether they’re there or not. If they’re missing, it’s not a problem exactly, but there’s a small sense that I’ve left a gap in the system, even if I can’t point to a specific task they’re meant to cover.
I’ve taken them out a couple times. Once when I was trying to lighten the bag for a long day, once when I convinced myself I was carrying too many “just in case” things. Both times they ended up back in within a few days. Not because I needed them urgently, but because I noticed their absence in a vague, indirect way. A moment where I hesitated before cutting something, or chose a worse tool because it was what I had.
They’ve settled into that category of items that aren’t essential, but feel correct. Not part of a kit I’d lay out on a table, not something I’d mention if someone asked what I carry. Just a pair of shears that live in a slightly awkward pocket, shifting around when I set the bag down, occasionally justifying themselves in small, practical ways.
Most days, they do nothing at all. But they’ve changed the way I handle a few minor tasks, and somehow that’s been enough to keep them around.