Never Stop Learning

My name is...well, I won't tell you that. I'm in...um...Arizona. I can't tell you exactly where because it would be imprudent. I'm a professional EMT-B who recently discovered that it is possible to blog about the experiences of the job without running afoul of HIPAA or departmental rules and regulations. I've been an EMT for five years, actually working for three, and I've often clenched my teeth in frustration that there are precious few outlets for those in our profession. Or so I thought. Kelly Grayson over at Ambulance Driver Files was a recent find and through his blog I've been able to see several others through his blogroll.

So, here I go...

I remember my original EMT course almost like it was yesterday. A fire department captain with more than two decades of experience was our head instructor, and he was just about the coolest dude I'd ever seen. Not just because he was a fire captain, mind you - he was just cool. I had been in CPR and first responder classes as a teenager where the instructors spoke and acted as though they were God's gift to the general populace. My instructor definitely wasn't that kind of guy. He was very laid-back, well-spoken and always had a smile for everyone. He never bragged - in fact, he had no trouble telling us about the mistakes he'd made throughout his career. He and his assistants (who I believe he carefully chose) shared stories of actual calls they'd been on in an effort to prepare us for what we were getting ourselves into. He didn't have to be a jerk to weed out the ones who wouldn't make it because he knew that such tales would spur them to seek education elsewhere on their own.

To this day, I want to be like him. I haven't seen him in a while but I know he's still teaching and have even trained some of his latest students in the field. I'm hoping to be in his paramedic class next year.

I make jokes about my murse (man-purse) being my "instant ambulance" because I and everyone in my family and circle of friends knows that's exactly what it is. I can't take myself too seriously because I know I'm at the ass-end of the medical totem pole. I have been in it just long enough to have a twisted sense of humor and a little bit of bitterness about reality, but I don't ever want to become that medic whose personal boundaries are so strong that nobody wants to be around them. Having worked with enough medics I've become convinced that's why some of them come off as completely self-absorbed jerks.

(The popular joke in my station comes to mind: "What's the difference between a porcupine and an ALS unit? On an ALS unit, all the pricks are on the inside!")

I did tactical EMS long enough to know that I'd rather do it in the field, among the citizens outside the prison wire. Since I've gone civilian I've been on a plethora of calls. I've played the role of EMT, older sibling, crisis counselor, and best buddy. I've helped debrief fellow EMT's and medics and have needed to debrief myself. I'll never know it all, though, and I pray I never stop learning.

That's what this blog is going to be about. I won't talk politics much here; I blog about that plenty elsewhere. This site will be about my frustrations, celebrations, mourning and all the lessons learned along the way.

I remember the first-ever suicide call I went on. By the time I arrived it was clear I wasn't going to be offering much medical assistance. An ALS unit was already there. I got to hold mom's hand while a police officer explained that her teenage son had been declared dead after shooting himself with a .357. I grew up with guns and I knew what a mess a hand cannon like that could potentially make, so that part didn't affect me much. What was worse was later, when a detective brought some of her son's personal effects out to her, she showed me his school ID. Her son had been a vibrant, handsome young man.

I will never forget the feeling of powerlessness that washed over me as we left. I felt like we had left that poor woman just as empty as she'd been when we got there. It's a feeling that has never left me, partially because I've been on suicide calls since that turned out just as badly and have felt on each of them that I hadn't done enough. Not one of them has ever compared to the first.

It won't be my last. I've had plenty of happier endings since then, and I'm grateful for each one of them. I've been on calls where there really wasn't anything to do. Through it all I've learned that the most important lesson we can learn is to never stop learning. No matter how irritated, how stressed, or how happy we are, we can never allow ourselves to believe that we've seen it all.

Besides...if we did, that ol' bastard Murphy would stop in to kick us square in the backside with something we never thought we'd see. Lost condom call, anyone? ;-)