Oh, what the hell. For old time's sake.

What the fuck is a blog? A diary entry. A public, forever public, permanently scarred walls of texts on the internet that people you may or may not know read. That's what makes these different from diary entries – only a fool would write a blog like a diary, because a diary is private for only one set of eyes to see. A blog is for everyone to see. I've learned that lesson.

But, regardless, as I sit here many years after my first blog entry, I type realizing that not many people will read this one either. Which is good. Which is what I meant with my title: lets write an old-style blog, for old time's sake. Angsty teenager attitude, entitlement, self-deprication, and all.

..

Welp, my cat vomited again. No, not the one that usually does surprisingly. My elder cat, I'll name him Macaroni, has been vomiting for years. I honestly thought he had cancer, but when my wife took him to the vet, it turns out he just has hyperthyroidism, which is treatable. Yay! I'm not sure why the other one threw up though, maybe he ate something he shouldn't. I tried to kill a roach in here earlier but I ended up throwing him somewhere I didn't see, and left it alone. I theorize the vomiting cat, I'll name him Lion, found the roach, ate him, and got his stomach upset. It was so nice though, because the cats have a tendency to vomit in the carpet, which Lion was about to do as well. But unlike Macaroni, which is super old, I figured Lion might actually listen to me. You see, I have T-minus 20 seconds to get my ass up and take him to tile for easier clean up. But looking at Lion I had less time, so I called his name, "Lion! Get the fuck off the carpet!" and he actually listened to me, mid gag, and ran to the kitchen. Small victories.

I've been writing, in a pen and paper way. Like an actual diary but super short and just has some thoughts here and there.

I hope my wife is okay. She's a night owl and stays up until 3 or 4 am naturally, but recently she was changed to a morning schedule which means that her circadian rhythm has been throwing for a complete loop. I hope she adjusts, but admittingly, even me being a morning person and waking up at 6am normally, there's something about waking up at 3:30am or 4am that I could just never get used to. I also heard similar things from others in that schedule, it's hellish, and "don't expect to get used to waking up at this time" is something I heard several people tell me. They weren't wrong, after two years, when it came down to my last day of that shift, I was glad and told myself I would never do that again. Not sure if I've mentioned my wife's name here, not sure why I would, but I'll call her Brea, after a character she wrote about. Brea is sick, and sleep deprived, driving a 2 ton ambulance around our city for 13 hours. I realize this doesn't make her sound too different from other EMTs, but I worry about her. I want her to be well.

I think it's easy to write about difficulties, and harder to write about plans that may or may not happen. I tend to do the latter, because who's a better set of ears for my grandiose plans than a site full of people who will stop reading at the first paragraph?

Truth be told, I have a final today, one tomorrow, and one Saturday. I work tomorrow, to also be in an ambulance. I think I'll be rested well enough, but the final exam anxiety is one I am very familiar with, and one I've never done well in. For example, today I woke at 4am and now being 9am I have still not done one ounce of studying. I actually read over some old blogs I had… and not no one's surprise this pattern has happened since I was in middle school. When the pressure of doing good in school gets to me, I think of myself as not the brightest guy. If I ever do good, it is because I BUST my ass off studying. I've been studying steadily this semester, but not busting my ass off. So I think I'll do okay. Sadly, I don't believe I'll get A's in these last two classes, which would really help. One of my stupid bitch teachers has a blind hatred of students, has been fired several times, and keeps getting brought back to faculty because I'm sure they got no one else. But she got me on a technicality in the syllabus, and even though I now have an A in the class she was in (not even teaching, nor is she the teacher, she was just involved), I get dropped to an automatic C.

I NEED A's TO GET INTO PA SCHOOL YOU STUPID HOE.

But, it's done. I guess I can write about that.

So, I'm an EMT. The technician part of the name is a big part of that, which is a fancy word for "a guy that knows some medicine algorithms to help the paramedic but really just cleans up after calls and drives." I don't mind my job, in fact it's been my favorite so far, not because of the gore or anything but because it makes the day go by fast and I get to pick up overtime whenever I'm on the poor side. Management isn't bad, and the people I work with are generally nice. But one clause of being an EMT is that you have hard lines you cannot cross, or you lose your license. This is to protect patients, and each other, because you really don't want EMTs with 4 months of training doing procedures that doctors, nurses, or paramedics had to go through hundreds of times in practice before touching a patient. Makes sense. This hard line, however, has a meaning that basically anything else NOT past that line is fair game. Clean blood? Obviously. Clean vomiting? Who the hell did you think did that stuff? Carry elderly people? 80% of my job, none of which was taught in school. Not to mention all the help I do with higher level providers such as paramedics and nurses. "Yeah, I'll draw up that narcotic for you. 50mcg?" No one ever said I can't draw it, only that I can't give it.

"You want me to give them 4mg of Zofran?" An antinausea medication that is practically harmless, but not within my scope. How do I get away with this one? Simple. I'm in the back of the ambulance with a patient, which at this point is my patient, and that means that the only medicine I give them is oxygen and that's it. But they're complaining of nausea now, and they're about throw up. Let's play the guessing game on what the paramedic, who is now driving the ambulance back to the hospital, does:

A) They hear the complaint, so then they proceed to stop the ambulance, go to the back, open up the pill, and hand them to the patient, then go back to driving

or

B) Ask me to give it to them

So this is a common example, but that "hard line" really is license losing, and this is by far not the only example. Welcome to healthcare.

If I didn't make myself clear, this is the kind of thing that happened at school. I got asked to do an IV, which I have done several dozen times, but because my proctor did not see it, the stupid bitch teacher told me that "you practiced something dangerously and out of your scope." And she was right. However, when I get asked to start an IV for a patient that's dying in the ER, and I can do it, and my proctor knows I can do it, hell, the damn school sent me to hospitals and ambulances precisely to practice this skill, yet I end up in trouble anyway, I have a tendency to call that… just a bit of bullshit. But whatever. It's no secret to anyone that goes through our school's paramedic program that this specific instructor goes out of her way to make life hell for students.

Least to say, I've been discouraged. I've been discouraged for months at this point. I went into paramedic school knowing I can get A's and raise my GPA so someday soon I can apply to my dream job of becoming a PA. But stupid crap like this threatens me getting kicked out. "You do anything like this again and you'll fail the class." Which is the nicest way of saying they'll kick me out of paramedic school and if I hope to be a paramedic one day I need to start over from day one. I'm three terms deep from four, and I would have to start over. A whole year wasted.

I sound entitled. Good, that's what I was aiming for because that's how I feel. I worked my ass off and it wasn't for stupid bitches to destroy my future.

DABRIDGE OUT

lul

Anyways guys thanks for reading. Join me next time for another episode of the 64D Reidd chronicles, in which I shall bitch about something else to the 3 people that read this.