12 February, 2010. 5:25 PM.

So, what’s a girl to do with an EMT certification? Jump into her school’s volunteer corps, of course! I competed at BU’s Yankauer Games with Brandeis (we were pretty awesome) and took my first shift on my 19th birthday. My first call came in during Music History, and I’m pretty sure I didn’t miss anything of consequence.
I’ve taken six shifts and six calls since November. I TA the EMT class at Brandeis (taught by BU) with other BEMCo people and the BU instructors who I was taught by. I really like what I’m doing.

I’m not really here to talk about medicine. It’ll probably end up that way at some point, but right now, I just want to talk about the experience. And I do apologize for dropping off of here for so long—long story short, some people were concerned about the fact that some secondary’s girlfriend was all of a sudden blogging about BEMCo very enthusiastically, that she was going to be an EMT, that she might not know what she was doing. I was warned on my first call, “This doesn’t go in the blog,” but other than that, it’s not an issue anymore.

I try to not to enthuse too much about this, but I’m completely smitten with volunteering here. For those 24 hours when I’m on call, I’m actually a somewhat useful member of society. I’m trying not to end up filling this post with phrases like “being a part of something bigger than me” and “feeling important,” because that’s not really what it’s about. It’s about our patients and what we’re doing for them in that moment. Some of them won’t remember us—most of them won’t. It’s not really us that they’re seeing—I’m not there as a student, as a musician, not even as a female, most of the time. I am my rank and my uniform.

Maybe it’s just from being new, but if I could be on call all the time, I would be. I feel silly when I talk about it to Matt, and I feel misunderstood when I talk about it with my family. I don’t really mind, though.

Also, not to self: I ought to start using 24 hour time on these. (Funny story though: not everyone uses 24 hour, so in class, a student asked if by “16:00-17:00” a professor meant “6:00-7:00” and the professor said in the “No, you moron” voice, “No, I mean 16:00-17:00” and some kind student explained to the first one exactly what the difference was.)

12 February, 2010. 12:26 PM

It’s been a while since I posted anything of substance, and for that I apologize. So much has happened since I put any real effort into this blog—I’ll try to start where I left off.

I completed my training with Boston University last August, with a 100 on my final written exam and only having to redo the KED for the practical (BU practical exams go like this: you have the whole day to pass, you have unlimited repeats of stations, but you cannot do them with the same instructor who failed you).

After training ended, I found myself with 12+ hours a week of extra which I had no idea what to do with. I don’t know if previous posts conveyed this accurately, but my job was terrible. It paid well, and I got to spend time with my Dad, but it was mind-numbing and my coworkers were frustrating to no end. I loved the two months in which, after a long day of working (or pretending to work, as I was sometimes told to do), I would meet my Dad in the lobby, we would go to the car, and I would drive him to Kenmore so he could get the train home and I would drive the rest of the way to BU. I loved being able to just sink into the material and forget that the next day would bring the same boring nine hours that today did. I sat in the front, right in front of the instructor, so I didn’t have to put up with the other students too often. I would go home, enjoying the half-hour of aloneness on my drive back, make lunch and dinner for the next day, talk to Matt and my parents, and go to sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Fall semester started beautifully and busily. My practical exam was in the beginning of September—Matt was my patient, for which I am very grateful. Because my partner disappeared from the face of the earth, only to resurface the morning of the exam, I drove Matt and I to BU for the exam. We went from 8 until 1 or 2. I didn’t have to redo any stations, which left me panicking that I had messed up assessment (because I thought I gave Albuterol to a cardiac patient accidentally) and something else and had failed and would never be an EMT. Fortunately, Matt and I have been together long enough for him to know how to talk me down from slippery slopes such as that, and we drove through Boston to go to lunch. The rest of the afternoon involved falling asleep on the Commons with Matt, having my sister call and tell me that my Mom had been taken by Boston EMS to the BI (they were doing a charity walk with my godmother) and that I should meet them there. We drove through Red Sox traffic to the hospital, where Matt waited in the car, while I went into the ER. Long story short, the day finally ended, we all went home, Mom was fine, and I really just wanted to go to sleep so that the day could be over.

Time passed, Dan showed me where I could check to see if I had passed my practical without waiting for the card in the mail, I continued with my semester until one morning, as I watched Trauma on my computer, I went to check the website. That day, it gave me the option to schedule an exam—I had passed my practical. Much relieved calling to Matt, Dan, and my family, I went to find a computer with Internet Explorer to schedule the exam. Mid October. I wasn’t concerned. I read over my class notes and braved the Orange line to find the exam site. I took a half an hour, and pulled 90/100. After royally failing to use the Orange line properly, I made it back to North Station, got myself an ice cream of accomplishment, and went home.

Damn, this is going to be long. Well, here we are. I’m an EMT.

Please Hold

Hi everyone.

For a variety of reasons, this blog is being put on hold for an indeterminate amount of time. It was only intended to explain a certain aspect of my life and may have gone too far. Anyone who would like to continue to follow my goings-on is welcome to access my other public blog--feel free to send me an email for the link.

25 October, 2009. 9:07 PM.

At approximately 2:30 PM on Saturday, October 24th, I was handed my EMT-B license. I walked out of the exam building, realized what just happened, and proceeded to do a little happy dance in the back streets of Charlestown. (Followed by going the wrong way on the Orange line but still making it to North Station in time for my train home.)

My summer is over now.

Thanks to Dan, Matt, Vince, Kassie and everyone else who helped me out during this process. There's nothing quite like getting quizzed on pediatric vitals via text message during work.

So, where from here? BEMCo, applying to places around my hometown. Next summer looks hectic as well, but I've got enough backup plans to ensure that I don't end up working as a property clerk again.

FINALLY.

At approximately 11:30 AM on Wednesday, October 7, 2009, I received notification that I had passed my Massachusetts State Practical Exam.



HOORAY!

I'm going to take my written exam next week and then I will be finished!

10 October, 2009. 5:39 PM.

My state exam was three weeks ago. Still waiting for results. Waiting, waiting... I'm still going over everything in my head to see if I messed something up. I'll post as soon as I know anything else. On that note, I did attend BEMCo orientation, so that when I do become certified, I can start taking shifts here. Apparently there are people who haven't met me who have read this. I'm worried that I don't convey myself properly on paper. But that is a worry for another time.

Matt's first shift of the year is coming to a close (or rather, came to a close a little while ago, for me at least). From the sound of things, he enjoyed himself. The first call came in while we were carrying a cake up to the Castle from where he lives--he ended up missing the party, but met up with me afterward. I'm learning to be on my own every now and then, which is a very interesting this to do. So I spent some time with friends while he went home.

I called before left to go to his place, but even so, he was nowhere to be found by the time I arrived. I checked his room and the common space for his shoes and the bag; neither were there, meaning that he was indeed out on a call. (The only reason to check is that on one occasion, he was in the room, but asleep in a pile of things on his bed and it only appeared that he was out on a call, if not for the bag on the floor.) I got some work done, and he ended up coming home around 2.

We went to bed at some point--I fell asleep in my day clothes and he woke me around 4 to get dressed for bed. He doesn't wear the radio to bed anymore, so things are significantly easier than when he did. The morning was uneventful.

Filler Post

Just to let the people who still look at this know that I'm not dead. State exam on Sunday--nervous but feeling okay. On a bit of a posting hiatus for the time being for a few reasons, but will be back here shortly.