It's that wrenching part of young adulthood, when you pack up all your worldly possessions, say goodbye to your family and leave home for the first time--and drive 6 minutes to your new residence. ;)
I've actually got a really good set-up. I'm so close to home that I can bounce back and forth between homes and bum food off my family.
About a week after the devastating blow to my military dream I reluctantly decided to bring my luxuriously long pity-party to a close and see what I should do next.
As it happened, I poked my head into the Sheridan fire station on my way home from school the next Thursday and asked about volunteering.
As it happened, they had an opening for a new resident volunteer.
As it happened, after the agonizing process of filling out the application (I'd already filled out one for the Air Force and one for the Army--so what's one more?), going through the panel interview (during which I flubbed up so badly I lost sleep over it for well over a week afterwards) and tense waiting, they accepted me for the position.
Thursday was my orientation, but right now I seem to be in this awkward "dead space" where I haven't "officially" started and I feel close enough to home that I don't want to stay at the station all the time.
Perhaps I can at least use the excuse that I wanted a proper shower. The new flooring being laid has rendered the women's bathroom upstairs completely inoperable, and I don't care even if they said it was okay and the door locks, I don't want to use the men's bathroom!
Anyways...
I have my own teensy weensy little room--my very own room. For the first time in forever-
-everyone breaks into song-
-I am not sharing a room with anyone. I have always shared a room with my sisters, and the novelty of having my own room that I can actually keep impeccably clean likely won't wear off for a while.
It's a small room though. It has just enough room for a big, fluffy bed, a pint-sized desk, a dresser that squeaks and groans every time I open any of the drawers and an itty bitty closet that currently has one shirt hanging up in it.
I forgot coat hangers.
There's a shelf by the foot of the bed that has one of those puzzle-piece pictures.
Such a sad picture really, and comically offset by the gigantic stuffed rainbow fish that is perched above in the space between the top of the wall and the ceiling. I'm curious to know what else my neighbor, Shane, has for decoration in his room.
Where I would be without my mom, I do not know. But one thing I do know is that I know nothing in terms of surviving on my own. As I told a friend, left to my own devices, I probably would have packed some clothes and my toothbrush and called it good.
The mother thinks of everything...everything.
And of course, the ever present issue of my height dogs me, even there. Finding turnouts that fit took a bit, but we did find some. A big plus is that my extrication gloves are bright pink, so I think it less likely that they will "disappear" at any point.
Funny thing is, that night when we got a call and we ran downstairs in t-shirts and shorts or sweatpants, I grabbed what I thought were my turnouts.
An unfortunate mistake, since they were obviously not, and once again I was cursed with too-large turnouts and boots that were so big they tried to come off at every step. But there was no time to stop and rectify the mistake, so I had to manage the call and the subsequent transport to Salem as best as I could.
It's been crazy, and I'm sure the craziness will only intensify in the coming weeks. I am officially an EMT student now. I am taking the accelerated course, so what would normally be achieved in approximately 23 weeks (give or take a week or two), we are doing in 10.
But I love it. The classes are all day and intense. In our first lab alone we covered scene safety, vitals and airway management, what one of our instructors said amounted to about 30% of the skills we would be required to know by the end of the term.
I find it intense anyway.
I think adding school on top of my new "job" (I use that term loosely because even though I will technically be drawing a paycheck and receiving tuition assistance, it doesn't feel like just a job) is going to be more hectic than anticipated. I'm certainly already tasting the tiredness that can come from the combination. Our late night call didn't end with bed for me for some time. I've read at least one chapter every day this week, plus other assignments, so I'm beginning to understand the factors that cause some of my classmates to fall asleep in class (I've counted two so far).
The paramedic on my shift is great, but brutal in his teaching methods. I rode along Thursday and Friday on several calls, thinking I would be doing what I've always done--watching.
Not this time. It was a little flustering (is that even a word? my brain is still catching up) when he handed me the chart and told me to start writing down whatever he said, or record the vitals.
But it's kind of sink or swim with him.
Get the gurney out, and the monitor, and the green bag, and the red bag. Get me the aspirin. Hook the oxygen tubing up over there. Get the IV ready for me. Now can you clean the gurney and get it put back? Oh, and the monitor and kits need to be restored. Push that button. No, the other button. The button for blood pressure. You see the one that has an arm on it? Yes, that button. Now you get to help restock the medic.
You gotta be careful with the rookies. We can be completely clueless.
However clueless I may have been, everyone was super nice and I can already feel them sucking me into their tight-knit little family. The way the paramedic has already given me a nickname (which I hope will fade over time), or the way the Deputy Chief told me to quit walking behind everybody because I'm one of them now. I have been told that if they give me a hard time it's actually because they like me, but for now I think they're taking it easy.
Like I said, I think rookies are fragile.
So, there is a very long record of my first impressions. I already love it, and it's so amazing how content I feel. Like there is almost nothing I would rather do in life than what I'm doing now--learning and working in the most amazing career in the world.
As a Christian, I don't believe it is coincidental.
I've always heard about "God's timing", but the was one of the first times it really felt applicable to my personal life. What if I had tried to join the military earlier? I wouldn't have had my classes as oil on my troubled waters and maybe I wouldn't even have kept on with pursuing a career in EMS.
As the saying goes, where one door closes, another door opens.
Which is great, as long as you're not living alone.
That would be creepy.
But I digress...
The moral of this story is I am beginning a new phase of life and I love it.
I've actually got a really good set-up. I'm so close to home that I can bounce back and forth between homes and bum food off my family.
About a week after the devastating blow to my military dream I reluctantly decided to bring my luxuriously long pity-party to a close and see what I should do next.
As it happened, I poked my head into the Sheridan fire station on my way home from school the next Thursday and asked about volunteering.
As it happened, they had an opening for a new resident volunteer.
As it happened, after the agonizing process of filling out the application (I'd already filled out one for the Air Force and one for the Army--so what's one more?), going through the panel interview (during which I flubbed up so badly I lost sleep over it for well over a week afterwards) and tense waiting, they accepted me for the position.
Thursday was my orientation, but right now I seem to be in this awkward "dead space" where I haven't "officially" started and I feel close enough to home that I don't want to stay at the station all the time.
Perhaps I can at least use the excuse that I wanted a proper shower. The new flooring being laid has rendered the women's bathroom upstairs completely inoperable, and I don't care even if they said it was okay and the door locks, I don't want to use the men's bathroom!
Anyways...
I have my own teensy weensy little room--my very own room. For the first time in forever-
-everyone breaks into song-
-I am not sharing a room with anyone. I have always shared a room with my sisters, and the novelty of having my own room that I can actually keep impeccably clean likely won't wear off for a while.
It's a small room though. It has just enough room for a big, fluffy bed, a pint-sized desk, a dresser that squeaks and groans every time I open any of the drawers and an itty bitty closet that currently has one shirt hanging up in it.
I forgot coat hangers.
There's a shelf by the foot of the bed that has one of those puzzle-piece pictures.
Where I would be without my mom, I do not know. But one thing I do know is that I know nothing in terms of surviving on my own. As I told a friend, left to my own devices, I probably would have packed some clothes and my toothbrush and called it good.
The mother thinks of everything...everything.
And of course, the ever present issue of my height dogs me, even there. Finding turnouts that fit took a bit, but we did find some. A big plus is that my extrication gloves are bright pink, so I think it less likely that they will "disappear" at any point.
Funny thing is, that night when we got a call and we ran downstairs in t-shirts and shorts or sweatpants, I grabbed what I thought were my turnouts.
An unfortunate mistake, since they were obviously not, and once again I was cursed with too-large turnouts and boots that were so big they tried to come off at every step. But there was no time to stop and rectify the mistake, so I had to manage the call and the subsequent transport to Salem as best as I could.
It's been crazy, and I'm sure the craziness will only intensify in the coming weeks. I am officially an EMT student now. I am taking the accelerated course, so what would normally be achieved in approximately 23 weeks (give or take a week or two), we are doing in 10.
But I love it. The classes are all day and intense. In our first lab alone we covered scene safety, vitals and airway management, what one of our instructors said amounted to about 30% of the skills we would be required to know by the end of the term.
I find it intense anyway.
I think adding school on top of my new "job" (I use that term loosely because even though I will technically be drawing a paycheck and receiving tuition assistance, it doesn't feel like just a job) is going to be more hectic than anticipated. I'm certainly already tasting the tiredness that can come from the combination. Our late night call didn't end with bed for me for some time. I've read at least one chapter every day this week, plus other assignments, so I'm beginning to understand the factors that cause some of my classmates to fall asleep in class (I've counted two so far).
The paramedic on my shift is great, but brutal in his teaching methods. I rode along Thursday and Friday on several calls, thinking I would be doing what I've always done--watching.
Not this time. It was a little flustering (is that even a word? my brain is still catching up) when he handed me the chart and told me to start writing down whatever he said, or record the vitals.
But it's kind of sink or swim with him.
Get the gurney out, and the monitor, and the green bag, and the red bag. Get me the aspirin. Hook the oxygen tubing up over there. Get the IV ready for me. Now can you clean the gurney and get it put back? Oh, and the monitor and kits need to be restored. Push that button. No, the other button. The button for blood pressure. You see the one that has an arm on it? Yes, that button. Now you get to help restock the medic.
You gotta be careful with the rookies. We can be completely clueless.
However clueless I may have been, everyone was super nice and I can already feel them sucking me into their tight-knit little family. The way the paramedic has already given me a nickname (which I hope will fade over time), or the way the Deputy Chief told me to quit walking behind everybody because I'm one of them now. I have been told that if they give me a hard time it's actually because they like me, but for now I think they're taking it easy.
Like I said, I think rookies are fragile.
So, there is a very long record of my first impressions. I already love it, and it's so amazing how content I feel. Like there is almost nothing I would rather do in life than what I'm doing now--learning and working in the most amazing career in the world.
As a Christian, I don't believe it is coincidental.
I've always heard about "God's timing", but the was one of the first times it really felt applicable to my personal life. What if I had tried to join the military earlier? I wouldn't have had my classes as oil on my troubled waters and maybe I wouldn't even have kept on with pursuing a career in EMS.
As the saying goes, where one door closes, another door opens.
Which is great, as long as you're not living alone.
That would be creepy.
But I digress...
The moral of this story is I am beginning a new phase of life and I love it.
1 comment:
Thanks for the report, Megan! I will continue to pray for your new phase in life! :) Sounds like you're having a good time (and a very busy time, too :) ).
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