Paramedic-ish-ness

Supposedly this blog is all about Remus, but I can't help but interject posts on other areas of my life because as much as I fawn over my irrascible hound he is not the only thing that occupies my time. Usually when I write about my job the rants succeed only in venting of my frustration at the ugly or stupid side of humanity that I run in to repeatedly. This post should have a more cheerful tone, even if the subject matter is slightly morbid.

Saturday night suffered a rash of violence, and I and my partner where staffing an additional truck to provide additional coverage in an area of high call volume. I had two calls of significance; one that resulted in the pt being placed on a vent and very likely brain damaged and the other pronounced dead as soon as I dropped him off at the ED. (I was annoyed by the disinclination of the doctor to even attempt to continue the rescue efforts, but that is a different story entirely). Instead of feeling depressed by the events, I went home feeling gratified and pleased that for one night I actually was allowed to perform the job I had been trained to perform. It might seem strange to be satisfied over my luck in having two calls that were actually emergent, but it was a much needed relief from the dullness of taxi-ing the stupid to the waiting room. I have been trained to identify and treat emergencies, it was wonderfully rewarding to do so.  I won't deny it was also a boost to my confidence level. From feeling the stupidest and worst of paramedics due to my own inexperience and everyone elses' easy confidence, to handle such calls, and to bring up objections from intuition that proved to be correct as the calls progressed, made me feel I had risen at least a step up from the bottom of the heap. There is still a very great deal that I need to not necessarily learn, but to solidify in my own understanding, so that the knowledge is easily and instinctively acted on. I am glad that I am making progress, however, and at times when I see that I have helped and/or at least provided every medical attempt possible under the circumstances, the work is not as unbearable or overwhelming as it was initially.

Also, I just finished reading "Pride and Prejiduce" and cannot help but laugh at the effect it has had on my writing. Remus is still gimpy but considerably less inclined to whine the day away since the removal of the Fentanyl patch and the replacing of his pain medication with Tordol instead. Brian graduates from Psyop training this Friday and I am permenantly on night shift.