There is a feeling every new paramedic gets at the beginning of his or her career. For the older men and women in our field, it came with an envelope in the mail; for the rest, myself included, it came with a few words on a state website. Regardless of the source, every medic has felt that sudden, tingly, stomach-dropping moment of fear when their license is approved, as the realization hits that yes, school really is over, you really ARE running the show now, and no, real-life patients don't have reset buttons and do-overs.
For me, that feeling hit around 8:30 AM on August 11th, right after my partner and I had finished checking off my ambulance and somewhere between the twentieth and thirtieth insult hurled between us and the fire engine crew we share our four-man station with. Having refreshed the Tennessee Department of Health Licensure website somewhere around a thousand times between taking the National Registry written test the day before and my 0730 shift change, I assumed this time would be no different. Instead, next to my name in capital letters: "PARAMEDIC". I informed my crew of this change with a short string of four-letter words and nervous laughter. My partner's reaction was much happier: "Guess you're running all the calls today!"
Prior to starting EMT school in January of 2014, I had never set foot in an ambulance or had anything to do with the medical field beyond the occasional urgent care visit. What I did have was the crazy idea, based on an experience assisting on the scene of a motorcycle wreck while on a two-wheeled trip of my own, that becoming an EMT would be a fun career change from three years of sitting in an apartment leasing office taking other people's money. The one-semester EMT course I attended at my local community college from January through May was fun, informative, and eye-opening, but throughout those four months of class and clinicals, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was just barely scratching the surface of a fantastic profession; I wanted to learn more, experience more, and do more. With that in mind, I applied to paramedic school shortly before the end of the EMT program, and was surprised and excited when I received word of my acceptance shortly after.
I barely had time to catch my breath after passing the National Registry practical and written EMT tests before I was back in the classroom. Where I had come into EMT school feeling like one of the more experienced people in the room (college degree, experience abroad, lots of travel), I felt like the newest of the new in a room full of people with vastly more experienced in EMS than I was (with the exception of one of my EMT school classmates and another who had come straight through). Over the next 14 months of class, clinicals, tests, and preceptor rides (a sort of field internship pairing each of us with a working paramedic to evaluate our skills in the field), I learned and did more than I thought possible in that time, and gained a number of new and valued friends and colleagues along the way. I also was fortunate, after several months of work with a private ambulance service, to land my first 911 job with a highly regarded EMS and fire service, for whom I am very proud to work. After a gauntlet of 10 practical skills tests, and the National Registry written exam that stressed me out worse than anything in college, I am, finally, able to call myself one of Tennessee's newest paramedics. Here then, until I decide that writing is too much of a hassle, are the stories, musings, rants, and insight into the occasionally bizarre, often exciting, sometimes slow, but never boring life of an EMS practitioner. Stay tuned and thanks for reading!
