My story

It was a long road that led me to wanting to be a paramedic.  It was not until I was almost done my university education that I realized I was miserable with the direction my life was going. My previous career choice had very little to do with anything medical however through a bit of a fluke I ended up thrown into a Wilderness First Responder (WFR) course. 80 hours split between lectures, skill stations and scenarios with about 30min of homework each night.  Let me tell you, by the end of that course I thought I knew everything there was to know about wilderness emergency medicine. Bear attacks? Bring it on. ATV roll over, not a problem.  Anaphylaxis, piff, thats just 0.01 mg/kg of 1:1000 epi to a max of 0.3mg right? 

Upon my return to civilization after the summer I became a card carrying WFR I decided I needed to do something with my new found skills. A quick Google search later and an e-mail had been sent to my local volunteer service. The service provided medical coverage for community events.  A 40 hour course later and another card was in my wallet. I was now a card carrying Medical First Responder (MFR).

80 hours for my WFR plus 40 hours for my MFR, if my math is right, that is 120 hours of high quality medical training. Look out world here I come!

I volunteered for about four years without incident. I felt that I was doing a competent job with every patient I came into contact with. I am ashamed to say it took me that long to realize that I did not know everything. I still had no clue how much I did not know, but at least I was open to the idea that I was not perfect.

I remember exactly when it happened. The patient presented with shortness of breath and generalized weakness.  His breathing was rapid and he was obviously very panicked. Me being Super MFR tossed him on a NRB @ 15 LPM. Hum... now he says he can't feel his hands and they are starting to look like claws. Knowing enough to know I had no clue what was going on, I called 911. When the paramedics walked in I gave what I thought was a decent report. The first medic smiled and yanked off the NRB. In my mind that medic had just committed sacrilege. Somebody is hurt, they get oxygen. Oxygen is our friend! The medics did an assessment packaged the patient up and as they were loading him into the ambulance the medic who had smiled at me took me aside. He quickly explained to me, that when people hyperventilate they tend to lose feeling in their hands and they may begin to have the cramps that caused the clawing. I felt totally deflated. I had done the wrong thing. I had made my patients condition worse, not better. The word "anagnorisis" is the only way I can describe that event. It was the slap in the face that I needed. I was not going to let that happen again. So I read, studied, and asked questions. Too many words I did not understand. Too many things I could not figure out on my own.  I was getting frustrated, but I had an insatiable appetite for knowledge. I wanted to know more.

Speaking of frustrating. My university education was more than frustrating. It was down right depressing. I hated every second I spent in that school. The more time I spent there, there more I realized how pointless my education was.  Don't get me wrong education is not pointless, but what I was learning was not going to fulfill me or allow me to have the positive impact I hoped it would.

So what are my options?  Well I guess I could just tough it out then reassess. Well what about this whole paramedic gig? I like this driving around in an ambulance thing. I'd get to make a difference in peoples lives every day. Best of all, I'd understand all those big words. My girlfriend at the time had recently graduated a paramedic program and she pushed me to apply to a few of the local colleges so I did. I did not have very high hopes to get in to such competitive programs. I was more than a little shocked to get a call the day after I applied telling me that a spot had just opened up in a program and I was the top candidate. All I had to do was pass a physical and get the rest of my paperwork submitted and the spot was mine. A few weeks later I had a stack of texts books 3ft high and I was a paramedic student.  Let the games begin.