I may have been right-on when I worried about demoralization and humiliation. I guess I'm not done with the "what was I thinking?" train of thought.
Thursday, I was exhausted. And that was at the beginning of class. Our instructor gives us 10 minutes of break time for every hour of lecture time, which is fabulous. It's also incredibly smart on her part. It keeps mid-class interruptions to a minimum (such as people getting up to go to the bathroom) and allows the room full of young men (and a few women) to move around and expend some of their energy. And it allows old, tired people like me to try to wake up and re-focus.
It was still a great lecture. It was about taking care of yourself as an EMT. It was about the physical and emotional demands that are placed on you. It's a stressful profession, on your body and on your mind. Our instructor talked about how hard it is to lose patients who are infants or kids, and about how hard it is to deal with a victim who might have things in common with you because it's almost impossible not to put yourself in the victim's place. She talked about how important it is not to put yourself at risk, but also how hard it is not to, sometimes. Being in this profession can take a toll on personal relationships because who else can really understand what you're going through, other than another EMT? It's intense, all the way around.
I don't know what I will do the first time I see a dead body. I don't know what it will be like to see someone who's bleeding profusely, who's hysterical, who's just lost a limb. I hope I'll be able to stay calm and be helpful, and if I'm going to freak out, do it away from the patient. But I don't know. Sometimes I flinch just seeing something on TV, although I've tried to control that in the past few months.
But there's a chance I won't even get to that point. We had our first day of "lifts" on Thursday, and I am not nearly as strong as I thought I was. I have pretty good endurance, but actual strength, enough to lift a real person, I don't know. I stumbled a couple of times, and my self-confidence plummeted. I almost dropped someone. I wasn't prepared for how heavy people are, and how important technique is. I never ask for help when I'm carrying big bags of dog food out to the car, and it's only recently that my boys have gotten too heavy for me to carry them upstairs while they're sleeping, so I didn't think I'd have so much trouble sharing the weight of a human being with someone else. (Don't worry--it's not like I thought this job would be centered around people asking me to carry bags of pet food to their car.)
Why did I stop going to the gym?
On Thursday, I was doing it all wrong. I was lifting with my arms and back, not with my legs. When I tried to lift with my legs, I lost my balance. I was also so self-conscious about my own weight that I didn't allow myself to be the "victim" in any of the carrying scenarios, because I didn't want the guys who'd be lifting me to feel how heavy I am.
This is not for the faint-of-heart. This is not for people who are worried about other people's impressions of them. I do not know what I am doing. But I don't want to quit. I can't tell you how much I don't want to quit. And it's not because of pride, at least not entirely. It's because I am still loving it. I have met some great people. I am crazy about the instructor. I am crazy about this field. It is exciting and fascinating and unlike anything I have ever done before.
On Thursday, when I was struggling, and feeling bad, the other students and the instructors were great. They did not make me feel bad. My main instructor was supportive and helpful. The instructor who was the person showing my group how to use chair lifts to get patients down the stairs was downright saintly. It was our last rotation, and I was terrified. We were on an actual flight of stairs, there was a real person in the chair, and when it was my turn to try to get the person down, I said to the instructor, "I don't want to do this. I am really afraid I will drop him." The instructor smiled and said, "No, you won't. I won't let you. I'll be with you all the way."
I'm 5'5", a good 20 pounds overweight, and in my mid-40s. How could this gentleman be so confident? How could he know he wouldn't let me f--- this up?
He knew. He helped me, he showed me what to do, and he wouldn't let me get out of it just because I was scared. He was gentle and kind. Could I have done it without his help? Not in a million years. But he said to me, "Out in the field, you can always ask for help. Don't ever be afraid to ask for help."
I want to do this. Professionally, I've never wanted anything more. I have a college degree, I have a master's degree. I have far more education and life experience than any other student in the class. But I am behind. My education and life experience, at least as far as the physical aspect of this job is concerned, are meaningless. I am at a disadvantage. I can live with that. Sometimes I feel guilty that I may have taken the spot in this program that someone more qualified might have had, someone who has a much better chance of being an excellent EMT, so I am committed to doing the best I can.
Time to do some squats.
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First off: You may not feel very confident, but I disagree. You may struggled a bit or felt scared, but you did it. Your will and determination far outweigh your fear. I'll tell you a secret. No one in your class is confident. Every one has fears and insecurities the same as yours. Because like you, it is there first time. others may be "younger" or "stronger" but you are all starting from the same place.
ReplyDeletesecondly: Age and life experience may not seem to mater much now, but trust me they do. You can understand situations better, you can relate to people better. Do you think a 19y/o boy knows what its like to be a mother or loose a job or knows anything for that mater? No. Every thing you will be learning plus 40 year on this planet makes one killer combo.