Finally

One hundred and eighty hours of class have come to a close. After an all day practical/senario exam in which we tested all of our EMT skills and reasoning abilities, we were awarded our class completion certificates. While we still have to pass a national exam for licensure, the hard part is over. Out of forty candidates for EMT, only seventeen of us were able to complete the class, two actually failed out on the day of the practical exams.
Even though I'm very glad to see the end of what was quite possibly the most difficult class I have ever taken, I am saddened by the fact that I will not be able to spend as much time with the friends I made. Going through such a stressfull experience creates very strong bonds. Having spend every Monday and Wednessday and more Saturdays than I care to count, going over the meat and potatoes of emergency care has left me weary yet eager to put my skills to use in the field. I find myself getting restless, waiting for my pager to go off with the big one that will allow me to go out and do all of the new things that I learned.
I decided to become a full time firefighter, despite going to college for a degree in English/Education. I have nothing against teaching, I've just come to the conclusion that it is not for me. My whole life, I've been trying to repress the fact that deep down, I wanted to be a public safety professional.
It wasn't until becoming a fulltime firefighter actually appeared doable that I decided that it was what I trully wanted to do. The plan had always been to be a teacher and a part time firefighter. But when I thought about it, the summers I would have had off would have been spent working as a firefighter. I came to the realization that that I was meant to be a firefighter, I'm meant to be an emergency responder, not just because I enjoy it but because I find it so fullfilling. Not only do I want to do it, I need to. I just wouldn't be happy or satisified doing anything else.
With EMT class finally over, I am ready to begin using my new skills. But with my new training comes new responsibility. On Holden, part time firefighters are only required to keep a First Responder licensce, the certification I used to hold. Now, as an EMT, I am the second highest level of care that a patient can receive in the field. My new training allows me to do a good deal more than First Responders, it will also make finding full time employment that much easier as prospective departments will not have to give me training I already had.
Finally, things are on their way to going as they always should have.

Seeing is Believing

With a hundred and eighty hours of EMT training nearly behind me, all I have left in the course is the final practical and written final exam. That is, over course, after I go through the extrication training and go through countless more drills to become as close to perfect in my desired field as possible.
Every Monday and Wednessday night I have gone to the same auditorium and learned a myriad of skills that will allow me to help people who have expereienced some sort of of trauma or illness. I've read over a thousand pages, been tested with exams, any one of which could have been my ticket out of the class had I scored less than a seventy.
But now the end is in sight. In ten days I will take my classroom final and practical final. If I pass both I am eligible to take the state final at sometime in the future. The stress is certainly a potent factor at this point. I take self exams and study skill sheets nearly everyday. Obsecure facts about anatomy and physiology that elude me are looked up and drilled into my memory along with appropriate pulses, breathing rates, blood pressures and capillary refill rates. Everyday I'm studying something in order to pass my final exam.
Alot of it fits together so its not terribly bad but the amount of hours I sink into studying go well beyound the 180 of academy time.
In order to alleviate the stress of EMT studies, I upped my workout routine to punish my body as much as I'm punishing my brain with facts, figgures, procedures and interventions. My routine ressembles that of the Russian Cossacks in its simplicity and intensity. Despite the stress of my medical class, I've seen a dramatic increse in my bench press with a current maximum of 195 pounds. My deadlift has gone up to 235, and will increse as soon as I return to school and have the benfit of more plates.
While the EMS academy has been a challenging experience, made even more intense by scuba diving training and search and rescue training, I feel that this summer has allowed me to grow and become better at my carreer in emergency service. With the end of EMT deliciously in sight, I'm confident in my abilities. Countless hours of study and training are leading up to the end of a course I have enjoyed very much---but will enjoy even more after its finished.
All of the stress and hours of training have been more than worth it. I accomplished more than I would have ever thought possible this summer. The Roger Williams EMS Acadmey mantra is "Envision yourself in the career you want, if you can't than you won't finish this course." The dirrector of the academy told us that countless times, and now I can honestly say that I can see myself as a firefighter EMT.

"You did good out there"

Sixteen years ago, with less than eleven months under his belt as a Rhode Island State Trooper, Matt Zarella became frustrated with the state police's search and rescue tactics. So the former marine paid, out of his own pocket, thousands of dollars to be trained as a K9 search and rescue technichan. His teacher was a former Connecticut State Trooper who could be called the father of K9 SAR in America.
Zarella known affectionately as "the dog guy" to emergency workers all over New England turned a one man unit( often looked on as a waste of time and energy by his contemporaries) into a Rhode Island institution. Zarella and his dogs have been contracted for searches all over the world. From Vietnam to Maine he's worked searching for corpses, lost children, murder victimsm everyone who's ever been misplaced.
I can remember my father telling me stories about Zarella. My dad thinks this guy is one of the ultimate badasses. Six foot something, my father used to say, towering over everyone. We'd watch him and his dog Hannibal, a massive Swissy who detested water putter around on a zodiac sniffing for submerged bodies. Hell, my dad probably knows his past cases better than the trooper himself.
After hearing so much about the dog guy, I was thrilled when I was offered the chance to take one of his SAR classes. Search and rescue is an activity primarily performed by law enforcement. Their search and investigatory mentality is better suited for finding missing people who have the potential to be crime victims. Even so, my class had a good share of fellow firefighters and EMTs.
The first day of class was a collection of lectures and videos to familarize us with the meat and potatoes of search and rescue. This is also considered a pre cursor to K9 SAR as all K9 handlers need this course to do search and rescue. We learned how to do long line searches which is basically strining a group of people along at spaced intervals and checking entire patches of wildereness. We learned how to deal with the press and set up a propper command post. Crime scene techniques were also taught as most searches can become criminal investigations.
The second day was a massive practical exercise in which we put all of our training to use. According to the senario a family of four was lost in the woods and two known felons were on the loose, it was believed that they had run into each other.
Dummies and articles of clothing were strewn about the grounds of a National Gaurd training facility and we were sent out to do our thing. Signs warned us to avoid certain areas containing unexploded ordinance.
The search was progressing fairly well about two hours into the excerise. We had found the father and evacuated him for medical aid. My team stumbled across his wife, she had been raped and shot in the head, confirming that they had run in with the felons. Shortly after their oldest child was found strangled under a makeshift tombstone. We had two really sick bastards on our hands, Zarella based them on actual cases he and his dogs had worked around America.
The highlight of the day was when I called "Hold the line!" The signal to stop the forward movement of the search. A mound of leaves off to my left didn't look right, I honestly can't tell you why but it looked wrong. When I poked my stick in it, I found a dummy wearing a pink dress. The family's youngest member was found. She had severe dehydration, the felons had tried to bury her alive rather than deal with her.
After our little exercise concluded, Zarella took me aside. The number one search and rescue guy on the east coast told me. "You should be very proud to have found that dummy. That was the hardest one I hid out there, it wouldn't have been easy to find her with a dog, but you did it. You did good our there."