Today was better!
I should be happy my teacher is chill because I wasn't able to do hardly anything school-related. I also don't have my BLS CPR certification yet. They're having mercy on the handful of us in that boat. We're getting ours on the 23rd.
My team is good. One girl dropped out after she realized she couldn't really do this course along with her full-time work and school schedule. It's not easy! This is a rigorous course! I kinda regret not taking it at a normal pace.
It's hard, especially with work. I hardly get any sleep as it is, and I still don't seem to have time for anything. My stomach grows bigger every day from the cortisol. I absolutely hate it.
Anyway, I'm really happy to say that I finally found people with my sense of dark humor (the teacher and his assistant). They're holding back, but sometimes they slip, and it's great!
Thursday, March 31, 2016
First Day
If first impressions matter, I'm in for a rough ride.
First of all, the "classroom" is tiny. I'm talking hardly any room to breathe in. Second, the teacher is a laid-back type. A "cool" teacher = expect disorganization.
I don't want to barely pass, I want to be a great EMT. The most inspiring people, to me, are the ones who are good at what they do. They're passionate.
Anyway, that got me really worried. And then I could hardly speak, I was so anxious. I considered quitting, but realized I could brave through the next year and then get a job I love, or try to go back to mortuary school - so many hurdles. Besides, this is way more useful!
I need 100 sets of vitals by the end of the program. It's utter lunacy. I remember trying to squeak in 50 for CNA school, how can I possibly get 100?!
Life is hard, but the hard things can be worth it, folks.
Monday, March 28, 2016
Swag
I got my EMT pants today, and I'm so stoked.
Well...except that they're too big. By a long shot. I don't know if they're supposed to be that baggy anyway, but the waistband is at least an inch too big. I ordered online, and I'm glad they came early, but they said to order them a couple sizes up. Bad idea. Maybe one size up would've been good.
I also got a neat purple watch to take vitals with. It has regular and military time and it's waterproof (bloodproof)!
I already had a stethoscope and BP cuff from CNA school.
We're set.
Well...except that they're too big. By a long shot. I don't know if they're supposed to be that baggy anyway, but the waistband is at least an inch too big. I ordered online, and I'm glad they came early, but they said to order them a couple sizes up. Bad idea. Maybe one size up would've been good.
I also got a neat purple watch to take vitals with. It has regular and military time and it's waterproof (bloodproof)!
I already had a stethoscope and BP cuff from CNA school.
We're set.
Signing Up
I signed up for school!
This is a relatively new program approved by the Bureau of Emergency Medical Services. I don't know much because their website is difficult to navigate, but they have an externship at an E.R. and a 10 hour ride-along on an ambulance. They also give you access to a volunteer corps, so I was sold there. They also have a cadaver lab where you can actually cut open the bodies! I want to do that.
Anyway, it was a tough decision to do this because I work full-time now and I get so darn tired, but I need to get this done so I can become a paramedic A.S.A.P. It's like...8 hours a week, plus some Saturdays for 9 hours. Geez. I guess it still freaks me out if I think on it too much. Because the program is so rigorous, it will only last until May 17th, so that's good! Like a band-aid. Just rip it off!
I start tomorrow!
This is a relatively new program approved by the Bureau of Emergency Medical Services. I don't know much because their website is difficult to navigate, but they have an externship at an E.R. and a 10 hour ride-along on an ambulance. They also give you access to a volunteer corps, so I was sold there. They also have a cadaver lab where you can actually cut open the bodies! I want to do that.
Anyway, it was a tough decision to do this because I work full-time now and I get so darn tired, but I need to get this done so I can become a paramedic A.S.A.P. It's like...8 hours a week, plus some Saturdays for 9 hours. Geez. I guess it still freaks me out if I think on it too much. Because the program is so rigorous, it will only last until May 17th, so that's good! Like a band-aid. Just rip it off!
I start tomorrow!
Getting a Job
To pay for EMT school, I need a job. As of March 23rd, I got my first full-time job ever!
The interview was a disaster!! I told her I was looking forward to the position because there were no phones or customer service involved, and that I wasn't used to waking up at 8am.
Anyway, it obviously worked out well in the end!
After working there for four days, I can say it's possibly the best job I've ever had. I really don't have to talk to anyone because, with one exception, they only speak Spanish. I mean...they're basically all immigrants. They're also way nice so, if I need help, they help. Every day, one of the women has had a sleeve of Ritz, and they go around sharing with everyone. On top of that, the work is mindless. It's like doing metal crafts all day. Mostly I buff magnets with a spinning buffer thing. I get to wear latex gloves and a mask, so it's my favorite thing to do.
It's not that I don't know how to speak to people in a proper way (it generally involves stifling every natural thing that comes to mind), just that it makes me so tired. And I hate the way my voice sounds because my throat starts to close up - even with medication. No idea why. It's very irritating.
I digress, the first step is done!
The interview was a disaster!! I told her I was looking forward to the position because there were no phones or customer service involved, and that I wasn't used to waking up at 8am.
Anyway, it obviously worked out well in the end!
After working there for four days, I can say it's possibly the best job I've ever had. I really don't have to talk to anyone because, with one exception, they only speak Spanish. I mean...they're basically all immigrants. They're also way nice so, if I need help, they help. Every day, one of the women has had a sleeve of Ritz, and they go around sharing with everyone. On top of that, the work is mindless. It's like doing metal crafts all day. Mostly I buff magnets with a spinning buffer thing. I get to wear latex gloves and a mask, so it's my favorite thing to do.
It's not that I don't know how to speak to people in a proper way (it generally involves stifling every natural thing that comes to mind), just that it makes me so tired. And I hate the way my voice sounds because my throat starts to close up - even with medication. No idea why. It's very irritating.
I digress, the first step is done!
The Goal
Man, I just want to be a deputy coroner. Or autopsy technician.
Ever since around 2006, I became infatuated with criminal justice and forensic science. I have changed my mind about what exactly I want to do in those fields many times; officer, detective, attorney, crime scene technician, blood spatter analyst, forensic geologist, fingerprint technician, coroner/death investigator, S.A.N.E, F.N.D.I, private detective, and forensic social worker. And then I've switched back to various ones over and over. It has been especially difficult because of my mental health.
I started my criminal justice program in 2010. I did incredibly well for the first year there. Then I got antsy, so I transferred to a university for a criminal justice program with an emphasis in forensic science. My mental health deteriorated rapidly, I failed miserably, and ended up dropping out for the first time at the end of 2011.
I dated and married my husband for the entirety of 2012, then was forced back to school. I knew I wasn't ready, but we had nowhere else to turn.
I changed my major to social work. It was awful. I failed nearly every single class I took. Not because social work is bad at all (it's actually awesome), but because I never went to class. I was going through so much and I'd just been married. It was stupid to go back, and I essentially dropped out again.
We went back to my parents for the remainder of 2013. It was extremely difficult. I couldn't hold a job, but I was determined to become a forensic nurse. That's when I did CNA school. It was pure misery. I did well in class. In fact, I only missed one of the questions on the 100-question final. However, we had two days of clinicals at the end of the program. I ran away after the first 10 minutes. I straight up left the premises in hysterics, because I couldn't see my partner. The next time, I was able to last the full day, but I was uncomfortable and dreaded every call light. I remember my favorite part was bathing a disabled woman - we didn't have to speak to each other, it was just me doing something kind for her. I never did my second day of clinicals.
So, in 2014, I decided to try mortuary school. The logic was that I didn't have to speak to anyone and I could help people out from a distance. I failed all but my mortuary science class and didn't have good enough grades to continue.
Because we needed money, I transferred to a university and changed my major back to criminal justice. I was fading. I barely scraped by with my criminal justice grades, which were also beginning to slip. I finally sought the school psychiatric NP. I couldn't see her until they could determine I really needed to. I took a 300 question diagnostic test. They found "significant" scores in depression and anxiety. After a session with a therapist, I was diagnosed with major depression and social phobia.
Finally, I could begin repairing my life.
I began visiting with my psychiatrist regularly, and then a therapist every week for DBT. It got worse before it got better. I eventually dropped out again, because I stopped caring about criminal justice. I'd stopped caring about anything. I wanted SO badly to die. I looked very hard at starting electric shock therapy and ketamine injections. I was desperate to feel better.
Then, it just changed. We still can't explain it, but I was running out of meds one week, and I tapered them out. Then I went to the ER for a new 'script. The first gabapentin from the new (identical) bottle changed my life. I felt so good. So good. And it stayed the next day and the next and the next.
I'm still better. Loads better. And now I can start trying again. This time I'm ready. Finally!
So I'm doing something I've always wanted to do, but was too scared to. Even in my mortuary blog, I'd always come back to this, but I've always wanted to be an EMT. Ever since 9/11, and then an incident at a family reunion where an elderly relative slipped on concrete and basically died, and an even more recent incident where my husband went into shock.
I hated feeling so helpless, but how could I ever be a good medic? I could hardly speak! And being around people all day? So intimately? Never in my wildest dreams did I think that could ever happen. And now I'm doing it. I can do it.
The best part is that coroners love them. Many coroner and similar positions ask for paramedical training specifically. So why not kill two birds with one stone? My accelerated program ends next month, then I'll be at UVU this Fall, and I should graduate next Summer as a Paramedic. Yay!!
Ever since around 2006, I became infatuated with criminal justice and forensic science. I have changed my mind about what exactly I want to do in those fields many times; officer, detective, attorney, crime scene technician, blood spatter analyst, forensic geologist, fingerprint technician, coroner/death investigator, S.A.N.E, F.N.D.I, private detective, and forensic social worker. And then I've switched back to various ones over and over. It has been especially difficult because of my mental health.
I started my criminal justice program in 2010. I did incredibly well for the first year there. Then I got antsy, so I transferred to a university for a criminal justice program with an emphasis in forensic science. My mental health deteriorated rapidly, I failed miserably, and ended up dropping out for the first time at the end of 2011.
I dated and married my husband for the entirety of 2012, then was forced back to school. I knew I wasn't ready, but we had nowhere else to turn.
I changed my major to social work. It was awful. I failed nearly every single class I took. Not because social work is bad at all (it's actually awesome), but because I never went to class. I was going through so much and I'd just been married. It was stupid to go back, and I essentially dropped out again.
We went back to my parents for the remainder of 2013. It was extremely difficult. I couldn't hold a job, but I was determined to become a forensic nurse. That's when I did CNA school. It was pure misery. I did well in class. In fact, I only missed one of the questions on the 100-question final. However, we had two days of clinicals at the end of the program. I ran away after the first 10 minutes. I straight up left the premises in hysterics, because I couldn't see my partner. The next time, I was able to last the full day, but I was uncomfortable and dreaded every call light. I remember my favorite part was bathing a disabled woman - we didn't have to speak to each other, it was just me doing something kind for her. I never did my second day of clinicals.
So, in 2014, I decided to try mortuary school. The logic was that I didn't have to speak to anyone and I could help people out from a distance. I failed all but my mortuary science class and didn't have good enough grades to continue.
Because we needed money, I transferred to a university and changed my major back to criminal justice. I was fading. I barely scraped by with my criminal justice grades, which were also beginning to slip. I finally sought the school psychiatric NP. I couldn't see her until they could determine I really needed to. I took a 300 question diagnostic test. They found "significant" scores in depression and anxiety. After a session with a therapist, I was diagnosed with major depression and social phobia.
Finally, I could begin repairing my life.
I began visiting with my psychiatrist regularly, and then a therapist every week for DBT. It got worse before it got better. I eventually dropped out again, because I stopped caring about criminal justice. I'd stopped caring about anything. I wanted SO badly to die. I looked very hard at starting electric shock therapy and ketamine injections. I was desperate to feel better.
Then, it just changed. We still can't explain it, but I was running out of meds one week, and I tapered them out. Then I went to the ER for a new 'script. The first gabapentin from the new (identical) bottle changed my life. I felt so good. So good. And it stayed the next day and the next and the next.
I'm still better. Loads better. And now I can start trying again. This time I'm ready. Finally!
So I'm doing something I've always wanted to do, but was too scared to. Even in my mortuary blog, I'd always come back to this, but I've always wanted to be an EMT. Ever since 9/11, and then an incident at a family reunion where an elderly relative slipped on concrete and basically died, and an even more recent incident where my husband went into shock.
I hated feeling so helpless, but how could I ever be a good medic? I could hardly speak! And being around people all day? So intimately? Never in my wildest dreams did I think that could ever happen. And now I'm doing it. I can do it.
The best part is that coroners love them. Many coroner and similar positions ask for paramedical training specifically. So why not kill two birds with one stone? My accelerated program ends next month, then I'll be at UVU this Fall, and I should graduate next Summer as a Paramedic. Yay!!
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