An EMS Portrait

Seeking inspiration for the January 2010 handover Blog Carnival, the host Buckman from Gomerville.com has introduced the topic of “An EMS Portrait.” The posts are a pleasure to read and give insight into what it means to be in our profession. I am at a loss to find something in my experiences that comes close and since I have so many inspiring people in my life, I can’t choose one to share with you. My writing style is no where near Buckman’s quality and emotion, so with that in mind, I humbly offer a portrait of the back table of Paramedic class 01-1.

“Can we get a five minute break?” Asked the tall skinny kid in the back row. That table always causes trouble. The three amigos, musketeers, were there 3 horsemen of the apocalypse? The class was finishing up a section on cardiac physiology and the lecture was going on 3 hours.

“We’re almost finished, but if you need a moment, you may step outside,” Came the answer from the instructor.

But everyone knew you didn’t leave Larry’s lectures. If you did you would miss the one piece of information that made the entire lecture make sense. The trick was, he never closed with it, it was always somewhere different.

The back table wasn’t trouble so much as thorough. If there was a question, they asked it. If there was a typo in the handout, they’d find it. And if there was a gray area on the written exam they’d find it and fight the instructor proctoring the exam to give away enough to get a proper answer.

At the daily intubation station they would stay long, waiting for everyone else to tube and run, then they’d create scenarios for one another. They had weekly study sessions and ate lunch together on a regular basis, they were each other’s support group, each other’s teachers.

Friends, most folks would call them.

Family they considered it.

Strangers they would become.

“Doogie” I’ll call him was the youngest candidate the program had admitted to date and he had all the brains to back it up. A quick thinker with a great memory, Doogie was unfortunately a skinny twig of a kid, weighing in at maybe 130 pounds. His crew cut hair and giant smile made up for his smaller frame and his slight lisp went unnoticed when he explained pulmonary pathophysiologies. His textbook remained in the cellophane wrapping while everyone else’s was open and littered with notes.

The guy in the middle was exhausted. You know him well now as the Happy Medic but at this point I was only weeks away from giving up on the fire service all together. With an employer unwilling to support my Paramedic School ambitions I was working trades on the weekends and days off from school which meant a 48, a day off, then school, then lather, rinse, repeat. But I was appreciative of the support my co-workers gave me and even more appreciative to have earned a place in this class. I was the one asking for the break.

On my right was the guy every class has that has to know everything about every topic before moving on. Thorough is not the term used for these folks, anal is often used and he’d be the first one to tell you that. One of the few in the class looking beyond the program, he had lofty goals as did his fiance in the medical fields. I’ll call him “Ian.”

We had met before Paramedic school in the audience of anatomy 201 at the University of New Mexico, all three vying for a spot in the upcoming bachelor’s and paramedic program. They worked for a local ambulance company and I for a sub urban/rural combination ambulance/fire/police/animal control department.

Our friendship was fast and easy since we all had the same stupid sense of humor. Study groups often revolved around a few Monty Python episodes and a review of the day’s lectures. My sloppy notes, Doogie’s memory and Ian’s thoroughness meant success on more than one tough exam.

Doogie had plans to continue through the Bachelor’s program and into medical school, Ian had a similar plan. That left me just happy to be learning how to help my patients more than I could the day before. They would joke about golf not being an approved pre-med elective and how were they expected to be physicians without a good back swing?

As the class continued we became a tight clique, often carpooling for lunch on fridays to the same little restaurant. We were a team. If one failed, we all failed.

That was not lost on the teaching staff, who separated us for exams, scattering those giggling question askers. There was once a question of coincidence on an exam since we all chose the same wrong answer. When asked how that could be we all pointed out a flaw in the question that made us not wrong. That’s how annoying we were.

After class graduation we all remained in the Academy finishing our credits for our degrees. Doogie is focusing on clinical studies, Ian Education and I’m bothering the Director for another systems design conference. Three friends, slowly starting to pull apart.

Doogie is getting ready to test for medical school, Ian is getting ready to be married and I’m getting ready to quit the fire service.

The reason why has already been documented in these pages, but the situation that brought me back from the edge is hidden for now. As hidden as it can be on the interwebs anyway.

Throughout the entire back and forth about what to do I was seeking advice from my old school friends.

We stood together for graduation, ready to take over the world. It seems so long ago now.

Ian got married not long after graduation and put medical school off for a year or two. I was in his wedding.

Doogie didn’t go to medical school. A few years later I would be in his wedding too. In Nevada.

I would be in San Francisco by then.

Our table, once completely united, now scattered in the wind.

Today I speak to them rarely. A quick note on facebook or a brief phone call when something big happens. Last I spoke to Doogie he’s in Nevada as a nurse and loving it. Ian got his MD and was last seen on a helicopter living he dream. But I have no idea who they are anymore. But I would not be the Paramedic I am today without their friendship through some rough patches in my life. That back table was the second best thing that ever happened to my career, aside from the wife sitting me down and convincing me to seek out that seat in the first place.

If by some chance you guys are reading this, give me a ring. I think there’s a python episode in our future.