Better Nothings To Do

TWO DAYS!!!

He burned his face off two days ago and did not know it. Police found him naked on his bathroom floor with.... let me repeat this.... with his face burned off!! There was no evidence of fire, crack pipes, matches, pipe bombs, nuclear weapons or a friggin' tiki torch anywhere in his apartment. The plasma that had weeped out of his skin had dried to his face, giving him that "glazed donut" look (I'm skipping Krispy Kreme today). He had no clue that he was burned, had no idea how long he had been there, or when he woke up. It's like the aliens just hovered over the building and kicked him out.

Initially, he wanted to refuse treatment, and was determined that he was going to stay there. The trip to the ED apparently did not fit into his schedule between "picking toenails" and "not looking for a job." There was no mirror in the apartment, so I took a picture of him with my phone and showed it to him. The picture looked like his neck threw up. We told him several times that the infection would probably kill him if he was not treated soon. He actually had to think about this for a few minutes... That's the great thing about this job. Some patients actually make me feel smarter. Finally, he accepted transport to a nearby burn center.

How screwed up as a society have we become when a slow, painful, septic death is alright because we apparently have better nothings to do?

New Beginnings

Strange the path life takes sometimes. I have not written here for a very long time. Mostly, this is due to a hellish work schedule of about 120 hours per week on an ambulance. Back in November, the bottom fell out and I realized that things had to change. I was no longer happy working where I was. I was treated well by County and had a great job.... No complaints. It was the other job that was killing me. I decided to take a stand. I was not going to sacrifice my dignity... my pride for a paycheck. I bled for that squad for a long time. I was the most dedicated son of a bitch there... only to be told that my dignity as a man was negotiable because I "needed" that job in order to feed my family.

I am nobody's dog and I will beg of no one. My family will eat, even if I have to go without. I will be the man I want to be in my daughter's eyes. I make my stand here!

While away at training in Baltimore, I pulled a hail-mary play. If it didn't work, It would mean being labeled as a flight risk. Career suicide. From a dirty hotel room, I filled out an application to one of the top EMS agencies in the country. Somehow, I scored an interview, and an eventual job offer. I accepted before they could realize what they had gotten themselves into. This meant giving up both of my full time jobs for this opportunity. It was a hell of a pay cut, but my daughter finally recognizes me when I walk through the door.

I graduated the academy in March, and started the year long process of rookiehood. At my age, this is strange being back at the bottom. My FTO's are the same age as me or younger. I have boots older than most of our medics. For the most part, it's not been that bad. I've had one FTO who needs to reevaluate his position with the human race, and two more who have been patient as I adjust to the new system. Going from a system that runs less then 10,000 calls per year to another that runs over 70,000 is a bit of an adjustment. The standards are higher here and the medics operate on a higher standard of care than most places. I like that. For the first time in years, I am being challenged. This has re-ignited the fire that once drove me.

No longer burned out... I am BACK!