This past summer, I spent five weeks from 9AM-5PM in class learning how to become an EMT. EMTs are first responders that arrive on scene when 911 is dialed to aide paramedics and transport patients to the hospital. Responsibilities as an EMT range from taking vitals and giving physicians reports on the patient to stopping the bleeding from a gunshot. The course itself was fascinating as I got to learn about the various things that happen to the body when people are in life-threatening situation and more tactical things such as how to help deliver a baby.
Even more interesting than the course itself was the two required ride-alongs I went on. EMTs typically work 24-hour or 48-hour shifts, but thankfully I was only required to shadow for twelve (daunting) hours. I showed up in downtown Los Angeles (a traffic filled commute from my house) bright-eyed and bushy-tailed nervously staring at the still dark sky and wondering what the day would entail. I met the two twenty-something EMTs I would shadow for the day and immediately got along with their easy-going vibe (they were absolute pros). The day started bright and early at 7am, and right away we got a call. Throughout the day we went on eight calls, each one taking us to a different part of the city and completely different cases. Throughout the day as it turned into my tenth hour on the job, I felt increasingly impressed with the levels of energy this job required. I never realized how unpredictable life can be, especially when you’re the one dealing with the repercussions of emergency after emergency. Even the term emergency expanded for me as the scope ranged from transport for terminally ill patients to trauma calls to anxiety attacks. While medicine often appears objective as there seems to always be a “right” treatment, I gained an appreciation for how subjective medicine can be in actuality.
In addition to a deeper appreciate for the nuances of medicine, I also thought about how resilient people truly are. I saw people in the worst pain of their life; I could physically see the pain pulsing from their body and the terror staring back me with a fear I’d rarely ever seen before. These people had such trust in me to heal their excruciating pain and I could feel the weight of their trust on my chest. While slightly terrifying to have so much responsibility in the care of another person, I’ve never felt more sure that medicine is what I need to do with my life. It is incredible that we are able to be there to help and support people in the worst moments of their lives.