I got assigned to a mentor today, and assigned to an ambulance service! I'm so excited (terrified) to start. I'll be meeting my mentor next week and working 12-16 hour shifts for the next foreseeable future.
The best thing about it? I'll be working afternoon/night shifts. I HATE early mornings!
Oh, and another great thing that happened today. Someone I have never met (and only contacted through my official email) got my nickname right - spelling and all - without being prompted! That never happens. It's a fairly common nickname for my name, but most people don't spell it right. I am quite thrilled.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Real World Experience
Last Thursday I received an email requesting that the summer internship class help the EMSSA (Emergency Medical Service Student Association) as they were lacking volunteers for the weekend. So, I offered to help out - and nudged a classmate into coming with me.
So, Sunday I spent 12 + hours running the First Aid Station at the local soccer tournament. My area was four fields of games, with new games starting every hour. Let me tell you, that is a LOT of soccer, teams, kids, parents and flying balls.
And I was the only medical type person there. Granted, this is what I've spent my last year and a bit training for, but the first time I was called out to check on one of the players, my heart rate sky-rocketed, my palms got all sweaty and I was probably paler than she was. The idea that -I- was supposed to know if the kid needed a real doctor (she didn't...I hope) was like a drop kick to the stomach.
Luckily there were no major injuries, though I did advise (strongly) a couple parents/coaches to take the players in for a proper evaluation (possible concussion, twisted knee with impressive bruising, twisted ankle that could not bear weight and an awesome, fist sized bruise/lump to a player's elbow).
All in all, it was an invaluable experience. I would do it again. Though, I'm thinking that my internship (starting in two weeks!!) is going to help me a lot more, because I'll be able to watch my preceptor evaluate the injuries/medical issues -and- I'll get feed back when I do the same evaluations, instead of making my eval's and hoping I did it right. But I had fun, I learned a lot, and I like to think I helped the soccer kids...and the two crowd people.
So, Sunday I spent 12 + hours running the First Aid Station at the local soccer tournament. My area was four fields of games, with new games starting every hour. Let me tell you, that is a LOT of soccer, teams, kids, parents and flying balls.
And I was the only medical type person there. Granted, this is what I've spent my last year and a bit training for, but the first time I was called out to check on one of the players, my heart rate sky-rocketed, my palms got all sweaty and I was probably paler than she was. The idea that -I- was supposed to know if the kid needed a real doctor (she didn't...I hope) was like a drop kick to the stomach.
Luckily there were no major injuries, though I did advise (strongly) a couple parents/coaches to take the players in for a proper evaluation (possible concussion, twisted knee with impressive bruising, twisted ankle that could not bear weight and an awesome, fist sized bruise/lump to a player's elbow).
All in all, it was an invaluable experience. I would do it again. Though, I'm thinking that my internship (starting in two weeks!!) is going to help me a lot more, because I'll be able to watch my preceptor evaluate the injuries/medical issues -and- I'll get feed back when I do the same evaluations, instead of making my eval's and hoping I did it right. But I had fun, I learned a lot, and I like to think I helped the soccer kids...and the two crowd people.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Finals, Stress and Insanity
Yesterday marked the last day of school, with two finals (well, two finals and a chapter test) and a day of presentations.
I used to think that school didn't stress bother me much. In fact, I rather like the feeling of stress, it makes things seem clearer and move faster. So, when I realized I had a chapter test (100 points) and a final (60 points) for anatomy and physiology I thought I was rocking. I hunkered down in my apartment, stocked up on easy to make foods and coffee and set to studying and crunching numbers to see how many points I needed to bring my grades up.
I studied, and studied, and studied. Occasionally, friends would call. "Can you come out?" and "Are you still alive?" were common questions. I sent back the occasional text message, took mental health breaks with my bestest best atheist (and clarified random things) and studied.
Then Sunday night came. My house (which I keep neat) looked like a war zone, my laundry (clean) was piling up on my couch (which, other than looking untidy, is fine, since the couch is horrible to sit on anyway) and I ran out of food. My world came crashing down - I still had water-balance and acid-base to study, and three chapters to review.
And my hair was in my eyes.
In. My. Eyes.
All I can do is plead temporary insanity. And when I look at my bathroom sink and trash, I know it was nothing short of insanity. For, like the evidence of a crime, 2-3 inches of my (then annoying) brown hair lay fallen, unmoving; the casualties of a lost battle with my kitchen scissors.
I used to think that school didn't stress bother me much. In fact, I rather like the feeling of stress, it makes things seem clearer and move faster. So, when I realized I had a chapter test (100 points) and a final (60 points) for anatomy and physiology I thought I was rocking. I hunkered down in my apartment, stocked up on easy to make foods and coffee and set to studying and crunching numbers to see how many points I needed to bring my grades up.
I studied, and studied, and studied. Occasionally, friends would call. "Can you come out?" and "Are you still alive?" were common questions. I sent back the occasional text message, took mental health breaks with my bestest best atheist (and clarified random things) and studied.
Then Sunday night came. My house (which I keep neat) looked like a war zone, my laundry (clean) was piling up on my couch (which, other than looking untidy, is fine, since the couch is horrible to sit on anyway) and I ran out of food. My world came crashing down - I still had water-balance and acid-base to study, and three chapters to review.
And my hair was in my eyes.
In. My. Eyes.
All I can do is plead temporary insanity. And when I look at my bathroom sink and trash, I know it was nothing short of insanity. For, like the evidence of a crime, 2-3 inches of my (then annoying) brown hair lay fallen, unmoving; the casualties of a lost battle with my kitchen scissors.
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