They say emergency medicine is hours of boredom interspersed with moments of sheer terror. I am currently enduring through those hours of boredom. Today was not my scheduled day to work the ambulance. I worked my other job this morning and then had the afternoon and evening with family and friends. It wasn't until tonight, just as I was snuggling into my warm bed, that my pager went off that additional resources were needed in a dual mutual aid request. Two large separate structures in our neighboring district were actively ablaze. Arson was believed to be the culprit.
Generally our station has enough employees on shift to cover a small fire call and an EMS call simultaneously. But, as anyone who has ever worked in emergency services knows, when it rains, it pours. Henceforth, we have extensive mutual aid agreements with surrounding fire and EMS services. The conundrum that arises with mutual aid agreements is sometimes other districts have such a high demand for our services that it actually leaves our own district lacking sufficient coverage. Tonight's fires have sapped every available resource in our county...except our ambulance crew.
We wait, monitoring the onscene crews' radio traffic in earnest. By no means am I wishing for something to befall someone but I am seriously growing weary of the waiting game. I am hyped up on adrenalin and yet utterly exhausted at the same time. My mind debates sleep but, as is often the case in the EMS world, the moment you settle in and get comfortable, something hits the fan.
So, I think I'm gonna go snuggle in a recliner, see what's on TV at this unruly hour and maybe catch some "zzzz"s in the process.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Differences
In many ways, I think of myself as an outcast. I don't mean an outcast in a social reject, weird way. I mean outcast in the sense that I have never really fit into anyone's mold. Granted, I have made vain attempts to do so throughout the years but I always seem to fail miserably. This is not to say that I am resentful of who I am. A long time ago, I came to terms with the fact that I was never going to squeeze into a stereotype no matter how hard I did or didn't try. I am o.k. with that although, at times, it seems that other people are not.
From the time I was quite young, I suppose I was "nontraditional". Before I could have a "real job" I went to work for my dad during the summers doing concrete work. Because of my previous construction experience, I transitioned seamlessly into the roofing sector of construction when I graduated from high school. For 3 years, it was the love of my life and I never thought I'd do anything else. When I told people what I did for work, their face would contort into some strange expression of shock and semi-suppressed horror. "YOU work ON the roof?!?!?" was the very next thing I would hear every time. "Yes, stupid head. I work ON the roof. Not under it. In fact, I get to play fill-in foreman when my boss is gone." When I would show up on roofing jobs to turn in a bid or do an inspection, people would stare at me with nothing but doubt on their face that a GIRL could be a roofer. In their defense, my 5'3" 130-pound stature probably didn't seem conducive to the type of work I did either. Nonetheless, I tired of the stereotypical sexist comments rather quickly. The one thing I have learned over the years is not to entertain people's biased views of the abilities of the feminine species. I have had to work twice as hard as any male counterpart to prove that, if I put my mind to it, I can do anything they can. Women's rights may have been over a 100 years ago but apparently more than a few people missed the memo.
From the time I was quite young, I suppose I was "nontraditional". Before I could have a "real job" I went to work for my dad during the summers doing concrete work. Because of my previous construction experience, I transitioned seamlessly into the roofing sector of construction when I graduated from high school. For 3 years, it was the love of my life and I never thought I'd do anything else. When I told people what I did for work, their face would contort into some strange expression of shock and semi-suppressed horror. "YOU work ON the roof?!?!?" was the very next thing I would hear every time. "Yes, stupid head. I work ON the roof. Not under it. In fact, I get to play fill-in foreman when my boss is gone." When I would show up on roofing jobs to turn in a bid or do an inspection, people would stare at me with nothing but doubt on their face that a GIRL could be a roofer. In their defense, my 5'3" 130-pound stature probably didn't seem conducive to the type of work I did either. Nonetheless, I tired of the stereotypical sexist comments rather quickly. The one thing I have learned over the years is not to entertain people's biased views of the abilities of the feminine species. I have had to work twice as hard as any male counterpart to prove that, if I put my mind to it, I can do anything they can. Women's rights may have been over a 100 years ago but apparently more than a few people missed the memo.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
What to Say...
It happened again today. They patronized me. They patted me on the back. They put me on a pedestal. They said "I could never do that." and "It takes a special person to do what you do." I still don't have a good response to all of this. I know not everyone can do what I do. I know not everyone can stand the site of blood and vomit or a grotesquely twisted limb. I know that not everyone can "stay cool under pressure". (I want to let you know that I don't really "stay cool under pressure" but I can sure do a mean job of making it look like I am.)
When I decided to be a paramedic, it wasn't because I wanted recognition. It wasn't because I wanted people to think of me as a hero. Quite honestly, I did it because I thought it would be a really cool job...and I like helping people. Admittedly, I also love it partly because of the adrenalin rush. When I flip on the sirens, it still makes me giddy inside. (And it's pretty awesome if/when the ways part when those lights come on.) And I still like helping people.
When I decided to be a paramedic, it wasn't because I wanted recognition. It wasn't because I wanted people to think of me as a hero. Quite honestly, I did it because I thought it would be a really cool job...and I like helping people. Admittedly, I also love it partly because of the adrenalin rush. When I flip on the sirens, it still makes me giddy inside. (And it's pretty awesome if/when the ways part when those lights come on.) And I still like helping people.
My Little Boy
I have had a profound case of writers block the last few weeks. If you couple that with my otherwise busy schedule, I have not really been able to generate any quality posts. You would be amused, however, if you looked through my long list of pending drafts, some with only a sentence or two, others with a paragraph or two. Nonetheless, I have high hopes that this post will make it to the final stages of publishing. Hopefully it was worth the wait.
My son turned 5 yesterday. He starts kindergarten next week. Being a paramedic and a dispatcher has taught me to deal with many situations, both physical and emotional. It has not, however, taught me how to be a parent...much less a parent who is trying to wrap my head around my baby heading off to "big boy school".
My son turned 5 yesterday. He starts kindergarten next week. Being a paramedic and a dispatcher has taught me to deal with many situations, both physical and emotional. It has not, however, taught me how to be a parent...much less a parent who is trying to wrap my head around my baby heading off to "big boy school".
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