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analog's memoirs: excerpt title, "Paramedic training: A year in review"
Note: once I started writing this, it seemed more like an excerpt from a book of my memoirs than a journal entry, plus it's so damned long. I apologize for the length, but maybe some of you will enjoy reading it.
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And now, it's time for another look into the pages of...
analog's memoirs:
All the lies I've ever told... (abridged)
excerpt title, "Paramedic training: A year in review"
It's been a long haul for me, this past year.
In addition to the incredible pace and amount of work involved in the paramedic program, I had many things fighting in my head which gave me additional issues to tackle.
Being asked too many questions sets off anxiety attacks.
Everyone wants to know how it's going, everyone wants to know how the last clinical was, when the next one is, did you just have a test? how was it? when's your next one? how are classes going? get anything interesting recently? any hospital time coming up? when do your clinicals start? when do your clinicals start? when do your clinicals start? when do your clinicals start?
This is important because, while living at home, guess what I got every single day from my parents while I was in school (the entire last year)? I'd see my dad in the morning and get 10 questions about this and that, then see my mom later in the afternoon and get 10 questions again, but like 7 or all 10 will be the exact same ones I got asked earlier. I answered a lot of questions with good, yes, no, soon, and maybe. I'd also frequently get asked when my next clinical was, and I'd very often respond "I don't know, I can't keep my whole schedule in my head".
One time I got asked, in response to that, how I could manage to keep track of (and get to) all my clinicals if I never actually knew when they were. It was asked in a snarky tone, because it seemed like I was just blowing off the question. I was tired and had already endured a barrage of questions and said, "I don't know when my next clinical is, it's on my calendar". I further snapped, "This week, I have to learn every vessel in the heart. There are a lot of them... then I have to learn how to read an EKG, which gives me a 12-part readout of various points of view of the heart, from which I have to decide how and why the person's heart is failing and they're dying, and then what I have to do to try to keep them from dying, if anything. I either concentrate on that, or pointlessly memorizing all my clinical dates. That's why I own a calendar."
It wasn't said in a pleasant voice.
I felt really bad later on, when my frustration had subsided. They just care a lot. They really care, and they're really interested in what I'm doing... not because they're being nosy, because they're my parents and actually care. The problem is, getting asked lots of questions all the time gets to me- regardless of how purely loving and non-nosy the questioning is. I can't explain it, but it builds like anxiety. Even though I've been extremely happy all year in this program, it's the little things that would take the gem out of it periodically. They saw how happy I was, and that I would sometimes sit down and talk at length about the latest whatever, or something cool I learned, etc. They like seeing me happy, so they would ask me more questions at other times to continue to show their interest.
My main regret is that I'll never be able to properly indicate my extreme thanks to my parents for everything they've done, or how sorry I am that I'm unable to handle their curiosity, and would take every opportunity to short-sheet my answers in order to get them done with. Their parental curiosities have always been a point of negativity, and all they did was care too much and be happy for me. I can't indicate my thanks/appreciation or my apologies more than saying something jokey and along the lines of "thanks for putting up with me" with a smile on my face. They will know exactly what I mean, but it's just not the same as literally saying "I'm sorry I was a pain in the ass when you asked me questions about school stuff." For some reason, being that emotionally vulnerable to my parents makes me very uncomfortable, I just wouldn't say such a thing. We do all love each other, and show it, but there's not much said about it. I was sick for a month and a half, losing almost 25 pounds in the process.
Thankfully, this came during a period after I'd finished clinicals for one semester, which I'd gotten done early, and before my next round would have to start for the next semester.Also thankfully, I only missed one class when I was at the peak of the sickness. I had some bad fever/illness for almost 2 weeks, was ok for a few days, and then had a stomach bug of some kind for 2 solid weeks. It took 2 weeks after it was gone for me to be able to eat normally again. I was really nauseated and barely ate anything for like a month solid, 24/7. It was not fun. Something happened in my personal life which I won't recount here, but the end result was not favorable for me.
It caused me a good amount of being generally unhappy for a little while there. That happened right before I got sick. So not only was I sick and practically bedridden, I had all that fresh on my mind to get over. A lot of my friends continually sort of complained that I was never around, never hanging out, etc.
I would have the following ludicrous conversation with people:
them: we never see you anymore, you should come hang out
me: I know, but school comes first, and it keeps me really busy
them: oh obviously, school definitely comes first, absolutely... ...but you should come hang out some time.
Don't you think that if I had any free time whatsoever, I'd definitely hang out with my friends? They always made it seem like they understood school came first, and yet I somehow still had all kinds of free time I wasn't using to hang out with them. Some of them are just slackers who wouldn't know "busy" if it snuck up and anally raped them. Dry. Some of them just wouldn't grasp the concept that it's possible to be so busy that a person literally has no free time. So every time I'd get the commentary about coming to hang out, it'd start frustrating me and giving me that anxiety trigger, like the questions do. Just too many people demanding time of me I didn't have, and saying they understand but absolutely not understanding at all. I've been told I was angry and emotionally bothered/troubled/something or other.
I've had a couple of people tell me they're worried about me, that I was grumpy or "not myself" or "way too serious" about things, etc. I'd keep trying to tell them that I felt fine, was thinking fine, and couldn't be happier. I've had the ride of my life this past year. Sure, it's been tough and had its really harsh moments to endure, but I've been the happiest, this past year, than maybe I've ever been.
It's been an incredible adventure. When not actively worrying about a test, or some new material, etc., I had a permanent smile on my face, all the time. And yet, I'd get comments about "not the analog I know" or being way too serious about things. I think a large part of that is that people never saw me when I was taking a few moments to relax for myself, like at night when i was up, they'd catch me during the day when I was totally focused on school, or busy with something for school, or studying, something along those lines- and I'd be in a totally serious, focused mood. It's not a walk in the park. It's a lot of material, and it comes at you very, very fast. Add that to the clinical days, and studying all the time, and you have no life.
I've treated my education and training to be a Paramedic more seriously and with more passion and enthusiasm to excel than anything i've ever done before.
Maybe that's why people said I wasn't myself. I was being serious and focused, as opposed to the usually more carefree analog. The analog who jokes around and takes practically nothing seriously. The analog who takes time to talk to people, and make them laugh. For the last year, i've been engaged in what felt like the most important thing i've ever done, and something that I loved passionately. Luck...
No one has tried to die on me, all year. No one has really even come close. I mean, I've had plenty of critical cases, but none that were in *immediate* peril of death. I am fully confident that I'm prepared, however, so I'm not concerned. "Heart-wrenching" patients:
Woman who cut herself deeply from middle of palm all the way down to inside of elbow on both arms, as well as many deep cuts to her legs, because her 7-year-old daughter was being molested by the step-father, and she felt helpless to stop it.
Elderly gentleman having his second stroke, the first of which completely paralyzed his left side 4 years previously, and this time his right side was affected. His only worry, his only concern, and only thought, was leaving his wife behind, alone. He cried silently in the back of my ambulance- he didn't fear death, and didn't care what happened to him- he didn't want to leave his wife behind, alone. He tried to raise his only good hand, now cut down significantly by this new stroke, to wipe away his tears, and couldn't do it. I wiped them off for him.
12 year old little girl who expressed a desire to kill herself because her parents didn't understand why she was so unhappy, and were mean to her, and she had no friends. They'd just moved, so she lost all her friends. Her parents were going through a divorce, and their anger for each other was being carried over into their dealings with her. It wasn't to get attention, she was seriously depressed and felt unloved, uncared for, and unwanted by everyone she knew. Her parents were there, and their attitude was like, "so when you take her to [the psych hospital], are they going to find out if she's nuts?" They said that in front of her. In case you're not sure, that's a really bad thing to do.
All the homes I go into, where there are small children, and the conditions are just terrible- and I'm not talking about being poor, or having very little money, or welfare, or any of that. I'm talking about obviously neglectful parents, the place is filthy dirty, the kids look malnourished, the kids are wearing dirty clothes, the whole place smells bad, stuff is just everywhere... just a bad, bad environment. I've lived life more than maybe I ever have, because I'm doing something I love.
Even with all the hard work, the lack of time, the constant push... I felt really alive. All the time. I've been exceedingly happy all year, because I'm looking at my future, and it's filled with nothing but pure happiness. Everyone, and I mean everyone, should be doing what they love as their career. Find out what you're passionate about, and do that as your career, if you can. Doing what you love means that work isn't "work".
I've discovered a lot of my strengths, and uncovered some of my weaknesses. It's been a year of reinvention, in a way, because I've never been this passionate about anything before. I've always much more laid-back and, well, lazy. I still really enjoy my off-time and such, but I don't feel like I'm constantly looking to get away with doing nothing. I feel much more energized than before. Live to love... appreciate everything... and take care of each other.
- analog.
Last edited by analog; 01-09-2008 at 06:52 AM..
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