This is the First Draft (and I can't emphasize that enough) of a work in progress. I'm planning to write it as a serial, as I add more, I'll post more, and if you have suggestions, by all means, please, suggest away.
“Just call” she said, “It's not going to hurt anything”. I really hated cold calls, as I held the ad in my hand. My hands quivered as I dialed the numbers...1....4...0...3, followed by a long pause, checking and double checking. I hoped that I would be told to leave a message after the tone, I'd leave my name and number, then they'd call me back. Much to my dismay, there was a voice at the other end of the phone. I had to explain the reason for the intrusion.... “Hi, I'm calling about the ad in the Calgary Herald”, I said.
All this started from the sport thats been my passion and my nemesis. Softball took my father from me as a child, he was always gone, some tournament or game, that is, when he wasn't at work. I hated it, at least I thought. As I warmed up to it, it became as much a part of me as it was him, it finally brought us together. This time, it brought me a job. I'd dabbled in primary care medicine before, medic for my college hockey team, avid first aid learner, and at this tournament, I was doing much the same. Helping out the paramedic, seeing what I could learn. “Did you ever think of taking the EMR class?” he asked me. “EMR?”, I replied, confused, I knew what an EMT was, I knew what a paramedic was, but what was this strange new title. “Emergency Medical Responder” he said “it's not a long class, but there are always opportunities in the oilfield to make some good money”. Well, he was certainly speaking my language, broke and hellbent on making society better. We just left it at that, and I carried on, but the seed was planted.
It was that fall that I moved to Regina, I had been accepted to the University of Regina, and took up residence with my Grandparents. I was almost beginning to settle in, meanwhile occasionally thinking thoughts of emergency medicine, wondering where I could take the class. I was still bound and determined to fulfill my dream of a career in Law Enforcement, a student of Forensic Psychology, looking for more experience in the field. When January rolled around, I decided it was time to get a job, with of course, ample suggestion from my parents. Applying over the Internet was yielding no results, so I decided to print a few copies of my resume and pound the pavement. After a morning of applying to various security companies, I decided to catch a bus to get to the university for my afternoon class. Remembering an ad I saw for department store security, I decided that I'd drop off a resume. Three days later a call came, they wanted to see me for an interview, and within a week, my training had begun.
What does retail security have anything to do with Emergency Medical Services? In my mind, well, I was the designated first aid attendant. This designation, however, was on the condition that I re-certified my first aid certificate. While spending my spring break back home in Calgary, I decided to spend a couple of days taking the class there. When I looked at the list of classes that were offered, I saw “EMR”. “Two weeks full time study, intensive class, Cost, $865”, I decided to enroll. After paying my deposit, I received two large orange textbooks, and the study began. I didn't start the class for another 3 months, but I religiously read the books, learning, understanding, memorizing. I had finally done it, I was going to be an Emergency Medical Responder.
On a cold march day I set off, my father driving me to my first class. I was nervous and excited, ready to learn, and I thought, ready to save the world. A group of us were gathered outside a building in an industrial area, at first silent, then speaking of the questions we had about our fate. “Why are you here?” I asked another student “fire department” he said, “you gotta have it to apply”. If you gotta have it to be a firefighter, then it must be good for a cop. When the door opened at 8am, we all filed in, took our shoes off at the door and were greeted by 3 large tables in a U shape. We all picked our spots, quietly sat down and wondered. Promptly at 8:30, a wiry man walked in. Bearing a strong resemblance to a grey haired George Clooney, he introduced himself as Graham.
He began by outlining the expectations of the class, the structure of the digital slide presentations that we would accompany the lectures, and the skills that we would be performing. It all seemed easy, until he passed out the infamous “Green and Blue Sheets”. Laminated documents that we were instructed to have memorized, and be able to repeat, word for word. The green document bore the name “Patient Survey – Medical”, it's blue counterpart “Patient Survey – Trauma”.
These are the assessments for all patients, you are required to have the first side memorized for Friday, for your midterm exam, the minimum passing grade is 80%, also, you will be required to complete a daily quiz, in which the minimum grade is also 80%. Any student not achieving the 80% grade will be required to rewrite the quiz, and can rewrite a maximum of two quizzes. There are both written and practical components to the midterm and final exams, with 80% required in each individual section.
“Thats not so bad” I thought, even though I hated memorization, I figured I'd get through it and then I'd be an EMR. “In order to work in the province of Alberta, you must be registered with the Alberta College of Paramedics” Graham said in the beginning of the next section. This was when I learned about the hellish experience that is known as ACP Exam Weekend. Much to my chagrin, once the class is over, the journey has just begun.
As for the class, graduating 2nd in my class with a 94% average, I was proud of myself, ready to take on the world, ready to take on the being known as ACP. I had been in university for 2 years prior to my foray into emergency medicine, so I thought a 3 hour triple essay exam on existentialist philosophy was about as bad as exams could be. The Alberta College of Paramedics has a different take on exam writing. It takes 2 days in Red Deer Alberta to write the exam, consisting of one 100 question multiple choice exam followed the next day by a practical exam. Softball once again came to the rescue. I was asked to officiate at a provincial fastball tournament being held 30 minutes from Red Deer during the same weekend, allowing my hotel room to be paid while I wrote my exam.
