I find myself sitting here on my couch between night shifts on the ambulance, the haze of sleep still fogging my mind. Contemplation often consumes me in these dreamy hours. More and more my thoughts are drawn to the state of my life, and career. Allow me to explain…
I am an EMT working for a private service who runs all 911’s and transfers within our service area, and I love my job. Recently I got back onto a 12 hour night shift after a year and a half of the busiest 24 hour truck I have ever seen. It seemed like we were constantly on the move for 24 hours, and then it would easily take the 48 hours I was off to recuperate. Apparently I’m just not built for those long shifts.
I was growing to really hate my job, and the people I had to deal with every shift. Frequent fliers, new customers, actual life threatening emergencies…it really didn’t matter what the call was when I was always cranky and exhausted. Somehow I managed to muddle through Paramedic school while on that shift, and even got my clinicals completed. I have yet to take the National Registry exam however, mostly because my sub-conscience had decided that nothing EMS related would invade my off time. Studying? Ha! More like spending time with my son or chasing women. Needless to say, the monster known as burnout was beating me over the head with a sack of hammers.
Since the shift swap however, I’m learning just how much I love this career again. I’m actually feeling the desire to continue on and pass my Paramedic exam. The exhaustion and irritation caused by feeling chronically overworked and under rested was making me overlook what I love the most about this job.
I’m good with people, and I love interacting with them. Even if it is quite possibly one of the worst moments of their lives. Being a wannabe writer, I love to watch the epic, and often fumbling dance of humanity making its way through the world. This job is a dream come true for me, as we are invited into peoples homes on a daily basis. For the most part they are comfortable with us being within their personal world. We are there to help in a time of crisis. As such, we get unprecedented access. The kind that would get someone shot if they tried it in street clothes. I get to actually see how people live, be they rich or poor, white or black, and the gamut of cultured to trash. We often take this for granted, but it really is fascinating to step into someone’s inner sanctum.
We also get to help. We are the “knights in flashing blue and red armor” as an ex-finance of mine once put it to me when she had to be brought into the hospital via ambulance. I really don’t have a hero complex, nor am I a true adrenaline junky. However, I love the fact that what I do helps other people. I love being able to make someone who is quite possibly having a heart attack crack a smile, even as my partner and I are jamming needles into their body and covering them with wires. I even love the frequent fliers…for the most part. Sure it may get old running on them all the time, but now that I get to go home and sleep every day it’s really no big deal. Believe it or not, they often have the most interesting stories to tell. Also, they really do appreciate someone cracking up with them as opposed to the silent taxi ride they may often get.
I seem to be loosing my train of thought now. Sleep beckons me back into its sweet embrace. In a few hours I’ll be back out on the streets, doing what I love.
It’s a nice feeling.
