What has two thumbs and started AEMT school? This kid?
Yes, real AEMT school, not EMT-I school. It’s exciting! It’s new! The textbook feels so much larger than my EMT-B textbook (although I don’t know for sure…I gave my basic book to a friend when he started taking the class and haven’t seen it since), and it’s much more densely packed with knowledge than my basic book. I’m going to get new drugs to use, new toys to play with, new skills to develop. It’s going to be interesting.
But I worry. One nagging thought has emerged and tugged away at my insides, making me squirm in my seat during lecture. What if I’m not ready for this? No, really. I voiced that concern a little while ago, and most everyone shrugged dismissively and waved their hand, saying, “You’ll be fine. If you take the time to even worry whether or not you’re ready, than you probably are.” Maybe. But I know that I’m not ready to do neurosurgery. Just because I recognize that doesn’t mean I can roll into an OR and go, “I admit my faults, so now I’m okay! Nurse! Hand me a scalpel! It’s go time!”
Although I whole-heartedly enjoy doing BLS transfers, I know it has allowed for my critical thinking skills to atrophy. There is no puzzle to figure out. There is no decision making. It’s me, the patient, my stethoscope, my BP cuff, and one long ride to another facility. I enjoy interacting with these patients. Meeting them on a non-emergent level allows me to get a better picture of who they are as a person; see the human being beyond the vital signs and Glasgow Coma Scale. Learn about their families, their jobs, their worries, their hopes…it’s all really cool. It satisfies the people-person side of me, the part that’s curious about people and the human condition. But it leaves the clinician part of me wanting more. I know I’m not the EMT I was six months ago. While I’ve learned more in books and by talking with the paramedics, I have yet to use much of it in the field. I don’t care what you say: book smarts and field experience are two separate animals, with a very loose connection between the two.
I know I can pass the class. I’m good at school. But my concerns stretch beyond that. Am I a good enough practitioner where I can use all of the new tools I’ll be given to benefit a patient? Will I be able to think creatively and get to the heart of the problem–and once there, know what to do to treat it? Or at least prevent it from getting worse? I don’t know…something about actually sitting in this class makes me wonder. For now, I’m trusting that my department wouldn’t pay for my education if they didn’t believe I could do it. I’m hoping that by the end of this class (late September, by the way), I’ll have gained back the skills and confidence I had before–and then some, with any luck. Espeically when nursing school will be starting up by then. And I’m trusting that when I complete this class, my preceptors at my department will know when to cut me loose to practice on my own without them.
Only time will tell, right?
