ADDICTED

It was a new year, January 2001, the year that changed my life. It was the beginning of my paramedic career and I had no idea when the ball dropped at midnight. I never had aspirations to have a career in EMS, but that was the year it sort of fell into my lap. I was plodding along, living in Machias with my daughter, she a junior in high school, me a waitress. One of my coworkers’ mothers was starting an EMT-B class and needed one more student to make it happen. She asked me if I was interested (it was free), so I said sure. Now at the time, my daughter was 5 months pregnant and I was working 70 to 80 hours to support us. I had no idea what I was getting into and if I had would I have continued? To this day I am not sure. An EMT-B class is not easy and I am an overachiever by nature. So I made a decision to deprive myself of 10 or more hours of much needed sleep a week. I gave the class 100% and the longer it went on the more I loved it. We had a student teacher (who turned out to be a mentor to me) who was so enthusiastic there was no way not to be caught it. I finished the class, passed my state exams, and off I went. Within two weeks of getting my license, I had given notice at my waitress job and knew this was what I was meant to do. I am a caregiver by nature so it was a match made in heaven or so it seemed. I was 38 and finally had made a career choice, not just working a job to survive. All this from a free class, how could I beat that?

As I said, I never had a burning lifelong desire for this career, so how did it come to be? I took my free EMT-B class and I was hooked. I loved being on the ambulance, it hinged on addiction for me. Knowing that you had made a difference in the quantity or quality of someone’s life can be intoxicating. For the first time in years I developed a sense of pride and accomplishment. I could be a caregiver without a long term commitment, a match made in heaven. Eventually though, as with all addictions, I needed more. EMT-I was the next rung on the ladder and I took the step up. I thought EMT-B was hard, ha, a walk in the park I was soon to find out. To get my EMT-B license required 117 hours classroom time, 16 hours clinical time, and the class was close to home. EMT-I was 140 hours classroom time, 150 hours clinical time, all to be done in Bangor, a mere 90 mile one way trip. Oh, and did I mention the teenage daughter is still at home and has now brought with her a baby boy? It was tough and exhausting, but I worked two jobs and traveled anywhere from 2 to 5 times a week to Bangor. Once again I finish the class, take my state exams, and life is good. I am an EMT-I now. The sun is certainly shining on me. The career I never desired is shaping up, but the addiction won’t let me stop.

One free class and what has developed from that? After sacrifice and struggle the roof is in sight from where I stand on the ladder. Along the way though, somebody noticed that I had a knack not only at being a good EMS provider, but at educating others who were EMTs or wanted to become EMTs. Take an instructor class was the encouragement I received. I had barely finished my EMT-I class when I dove into this aspect of emergency medicine. Back to Bangor, still a 90 mile one way trip, this time for a 40 hour instructor class with one semester of student teaching. How hard could it be? I was an EMS provider and surely teaching it couldn’t be that difficult. Well, I’m here to tell you doing it and teaching it are 2 different worlds. The preparation, the students, making and grading tests were time consuming in an already frugal time budget. Once again, I made it through and became a licensed EMS instructor. But will this addiction finally be satisfied? Not quite. At about the same time I finished getting my instructor license, a new paramedic class was starting. I had been thinking this step on and off, but knowing the magnitude of this decision, couldn’t quite commit. After a lot of thought and discussion with my partner I decided to go for it. Machias Ambulance was going to have its’ first paramedic in its’ 30+ years of existence. One free class and now I am an EMS junkie.

A paramedic? 4 years ago I had never stepped foot in an ambulance, and now one damn free class for a career I had never considered, has put me in school for the better part of 2 years. Now I am going to give another year of my life to this. Well at least the teenage daughter has graduated from high school and is able to take responsibility for her child. Fortunately, my partner is an also an EMS provider so understood the sacrifice we were about to make. Paramedic school is tough and you can kiss that year of your life goodbye. Back to Bangor, for regular classroom hours, specialty classes, and hours of clinical time. Paramedic school is also very expensive and with no financial support from the town whose ambulance I worked for, it was tough in a lot of aspects. My partner made huge personal and financial sacrifices so I could fulfill this last step on the ladder and stand on the roof (or so I thought). Paramedic school is finished, state exams are taken and I am there. But now I am there with no job. The town I worked for only paid us $4.00 an hour, as they considered us “volunteers.” So now this addiction, like so many others, has put me put me out of a job. They were unwilling to negotiate to make it viable for me, so guess where I have to go? Back to Bangor, this time for employment. In addition to acquiring a full time paramedic job (with paramedic pay), I also got a job in education for the EMS office in this region. With these two positions, I have accomplished major professional goals, but at huge personal sacrifices. Those I love can’t be here with me due to other obligations, so like a lot of addicts, I am alone most of the time.
Yep, the career I never envisioned is a dual edged sword, which cuts on a daily basis. I can’t imagine walking away from it but I suffer daily from not being with those who mean the most to me. Free ain’t always what it’s cracked up to be, which is a lesson most addicts learn at some point. Ten years ago I never dreamed I would have the career that I do now and certainly never imagined that fulfillment could have as much pain as joy.

The story behind the story-- I start every day with a phone call to my partner in Machias. Usually the conversations are light and upbeat, but when one of us has had a tough day, usually me, it is virtually impossible to be truly consoled over the phone. Words (sorry John) can't replace a touch or a hug. These conversations used to always end in tears, but over the last two and a half years have gotten better. It is still a daily struggle for me knowing that to continue this job means going home to Machias once every four to six weeks. Does the satisfaction of my job really compare with going to bed with the one you love every night? No, but do I throw my education and what I have accomplished away? If I move back to Machias that is in essence what I would be doing. My partner has obligations to an aging parent that make moving to Bangor impossible right now. So here we are, between the proverbial rock and hard place. Then there is my daughter and grandchildren, I know I am missing so much. I call them every day, but a phone call can never replace a kiss and hug or a good tickling session. They are growing up and I am missing the benefits of being a grandparent after paying the dues of being a parent. At times the story behind the story really sucks.

As I said, I never had any desire for this career so how did it come to be. Well I took my free EMT class and I was hooked. I loved being on the ambulance, I didn't care if we were just putting fuel in it. Knowing that you had made a difference in the quantity or quality of someone's life can be intoxicating. I developed a sense of pride and accomplishment. I could be a caregiver without a long term committment, a match made in heaven. I also felt like I was giving back for some of the wrongs I had done over the past few years. But eventually I needed more, so came the next step. EMT-Intermediate was the next rung on the ladder and I took the step up. I thought EMT was hard, ha, a walk in the park I was soon to find out. To get my first license required 117 hours classroom time, 16 hours clinical time, and the class was close to home. EMT-Intermediate wsa 140 hours classroom time, 150 hours clinical time, all to be done in Bangor, a mere 90 mile one way trip. Oh, and did I mention the teenage daughter is still at home and has now brought with her a baby boy? It was tough and exhausting but I did it. I worked three jobs and traveled anywhere from two to five times a week to Bangor. So life is good, I have become an EMT-Intermediate, but the satisfaction from that only lasted until I realized there was more. The career I never desired is starting to shape up, only one step left to take, or so I thought, and along the way I have discovered love again. The sun was certainly shining on me.

One free class and what has developed from that? After sacrifice and struggle, the roof is in sight from where I stand on the ladder. Along the way, somebody noticed that I had a knack not only at being a good EMS provider, but at educating those who wanted to become EMT's. Take an instructor class was the encouragement I received. I had barely finished my Intermediate class when I dove into this aspect of emergency medicine. Back to Bangor, this time for a 40 hour class, with one semeser of student teaching. How hard could that be, I was an EMS provider, surely teaching it couldn't be that difficult. Well, I'm here to tell you doing it and teaching it are two different worlds. The preparation, the students, making and grading tests were time consuming to say the least. I made it through my student teaching and became a licensed EMS instructor, no small accomplishment. At about the same time a new paramedic class was beginning. I had been thinking about it on and off, but hadn't really made a decision. After alot of thought and discussion with my partner I decided to go for it. Machias Ambulance was on it's way to having it's first ever paramedic in its' 30+ years of existence. That one step to becoming an instructor, now seemed pretty small to the giant leap of becoming a paramedic.





















A paramedic? Four years ago I had never stepped foot in an ambulance, and now one damn free class for a career I had never considered, has put me in school for the better part of the last 2 years. Now I am going to give another year of my life to this. Fortunately, my partner is also an EMS provider so understood the sacrifice we were about to make. Paramedic school is tough and you can kiss that year of your life goodbye. Regular classroom hours, specialty classes, and hours of clinical time consume you. Paramedic school is also very expensive and with no financial support from the town whose ambulance I worked for, it was tough in alot of aspects. My partner made huge personal and financial sacrifices so I could accomplish this final goal (or so I thought). The end was in sight, the town was recognizing the need for a paramedic, and was willing to negotiate to make it financially viable for me. Have I mentioned yet, we were only getting paid $2.00 an hour as we were considered "volunteers"? At the time it seemed all I had worked for would come to fruition; a new town manager was a hired and new selectmen were elected. They did not see the value in having a paramedic, but were willing to pay me $4.00 an hour if I would stay and "volunteer" for them. I walked away with the infamous kicked in the gut feeling. So now back to Bangor I come, but this time permanently to work where my education would give me a paycheck. In addition to acquiring a full time paramedic job with paramedic pay, I got a job in education for the EMS office in this region. Now with these two positions I have accomplished major professional goals, but at a huge personal sacrifice. My partner can't be here with me due to an aging parent, so we may go a month at a time with only phone contact. Yep, the career I never envisioned is a dual edged sword, that cuts on a daily basis. I can't imagine walking away from it, but I suffer daily from not being with those who mean the very most to me, my personal loved ones. Free ain't always what it's cracked up to be!

So, if I had it to do over would I? There are days I still don't know. The changes in my life have been huge, both good and bad. I love my job, the opportunities it has presented, the people I've met. I hate my job because it has taken me away from home and the happy life I had built there. Ten years ago I never dreamed I would have the career that I do now and I never imagined that fulfillment could have as much pain as joy.

I never had aspirations to have a career in EMS, it sort of fell into my lap. The details don't matter, what matters is I fell in love with it. I am a caregiver by nature so it was a match made in heaven, or so it seemed. I am also what could be described as a planner and a finisher and that doesn't often happen in this job. Emergencies are not planned events, hence the term emergencies, and in EMS we rarely know the final outcome of our patients. Initially, that part of the job was difficult for me to deal with, but I got over it quickly. I have noticed over the years that some aspects of this job have caused personality changes in me, some for the better and some for the worse. I have risen through the ranks of EMS to a paramedic (highest license level there is), and still to this day wonder if I made the right decision. The changes this career have caused in my life are not few and some pretty remarkable for the girl who went to a one room schoolhouse her first 8 years. It opened the door for me to become an educator, something I enjoy, but it also required me to move miles away from those I love. Even now, a part of each day is spent wondering if I am doing the right thing for myself and those I love.

It was a new year, January 2001. It was the year that changed my life.I was plodding along thinking the path of my life was plotted. My daughter and I were living in Machias, she a junior in high school, me a waitress. One of my coworker's mother was starting an EMT class and needed one more student to make it happen. She asked me if I was interested (it was free), so I said sure. Now at the time, my daughter was 5 months pregnant and I was working 70 to 80 hours a week to support us. I had no idea what I was getting into and if I had would I have continued? To this day I am not sure. An EMT class is not easy by any stretch of the imagination and I am an overacheiver by nature. So now I have made a decision to deprive myself of 10 or more hours of much needed sleep a week. I gave the class 100% and the longer it went on the more I loved it. We had a student teacher (who turned out to be my mentor through my career rise) who was so enthusiastic about it there was no way not to be caught up. So I finished the class, passed my state exams, and off I went. Within 2 weeks I had given notice at my waitressing job and knew this was what I was meant to do. I was 38 and finally had made a career choice, not just working a job to survive.

Why does he have to post such good stuff? I will never be able to write something that good, and my slightly competitive nature will obsess over it. Will those of us who write only mediocre stuff be able to write just one thing during the course of this class that compares? I really want to write that one thing that makes him think maybe she got it. I think I have it in me, the thought process is there, but putting it to paper (or a keyboard) is the ultimate challenge. Does he post it as the bar to be met or make the brain cells kick it up a notch? Does he realize I could spend all my time reading these essays and forget that I am actually supposed to write something? Was it his plan for me to wonder how the little girl in the love essay suffered due to the selfishness of her fathers' girlfriend? Does he know that soon we are going to have to make a decision about with to do with my Dad's house and the essay about driving by the house someone grew up in would make me think about this problem a little differently? He seems a little unorthodox and maybe even a bit crafty, so it wouldn't surprise me. Any way, if you figure it out just let me know. I will be waiting (not patiently, if you hadn't guessed) for the answer.

Being a paramedic is the best and one of the worst thing that ever happened to me. Don't get me wrong, I love my job. It has opened numerous doors for me, but it has also changed my life in ways I never would have imagined. There are times I wonder, if I knew then what I know now, would I have still picked it? Every time the answer is yes, but what if the opportunity had never presented itself, where would I be now?

What do I want from this research? 1. Where to begin? A. What to purchase? B. How much time will be involved? C. How to set up? 2. How to pick a theme? A. Can I make it specific or will I have to make it general? (I guess I mean how specific can I make it) B. How do I take what I have collected and make it work? 3. Will I need to be artistic (Cause I am not)? A. Will I need lessons or do I have the eye and skill to do it? B. If I need to take a class what kind of class should I take? 4. How to put everything into a finished product? A. Is this page by page as I go or do I need to have the end result in mind before I start? B. Are there limitations or will I be able to make one book about a whole life? 5. After I have done the research and the paper will I still want to make this scrapbook of the century or will it be easier just to hand the boxes of memories to my daughter and grandkids? A. Will the time involved be worth the satisfaction I hope to receive?