three weeks later, i’m an emt

I’ve previously written up my views on WFR vs WEMT (aka EMT+W), and now I’ve got both of those cards tucked in my wallet.

For two weeks I lived, ate, and breathed emergency medicine up in Skagway, Alaska. I met some amazing people and as an aside I definitely want to write up an entire in-depth post/book/article about not so much the course but the trajectories of those involved. Think about it for a minute: who exactly are the cast of characters already armed with their WFR who are going to spend weeks of their lives up in Skagway learning a super persnickety version of medicine? But first, here are some pictures (some others on my Instagram account too).

IMG_0594
My class. Bent down in the middle is a former CHP trooper, and current paramedic in a fairly remote part of Alaska. When she spoke, everyone shut up and listened.
20170924_125819
On my one day off I hiked with a classmate up to some lakes near the far end of the Juneau Icefield
20170920_131641
The incredibly new and awesome fire department building, where I spent most of my waking hours for two weeks.
20170920_135622
Being in the “south east”, as Skagway is referred to we were actually in a temperate rain forest. As such it rained *constantly*. With the exception of pavement and well worn trails everything else was covered by copious amounts of plant life. The roofs of buildings had green moss, and I dare you to find a single square foot of raw dirt in the area.
20170929_074119
Skagway’s main business is the constant stream of cruise ships dropping off passengers. These folks buy ice cream cones, jewelry, t-shirts, and have a few beers. As such the majority of the town residents cater to these people. This shot was taken the day after “Last Ship Day”, and shows the ghost town that Skagway becomes after the final cruise ship of fall.
IMG_20170922_215407
Wilderness EMTs pass all the regular “in town” EMT training, but then we also have to perform the skills with less gear in jacked up environments and handle longer transport times plus coordinate our transport decisions. This photo was from a campfire after one of our nighttime simulation trainings, somewhere in the Alaskan woods.
20170929_161306
When not in the woods, we trained in the firehouse using the gear from Skagway’s ambulance, sar, and fire teams.
20170923_154603
My bunk and living space for a few weeks.
20170923_154641
The kitchen that myself and four others shared. Thanks to the dog sled gang from Alaskan Icefield Expeditions who let us use their bunkhouse while they were off somewhere else. I left you guys some fishsticks and 3/4 of a bottle of vodka.
20170918_105326
When not in the field or the engine bays, it was classroom land. I of course sat in the back because that’s where the cool kids go.

It was an awesome course: no way around it. Being up in Alaska, especially in such a small town, really focused the laser beam on what I needed to do. In the evenings we did assessments and simulations at the bunkhouse, otherwise we’d be out in town taking vitals on random strangers. I’ve probably taken the blood pressure of every child and barstool drunk in Skagway. I’ve auscultated the lungs of infants, found pedal pulses for systolic/palpation readings on neonates, and observed COPD sufferers. Protip: stay healthy, don’t get obese, and don’t smoke cigarettes.

We made jokes about putting a grim reaper sticker on your ambulance every time you screw up and someone suffers, and I watched one of the toughest people I know cry when he discussed a friend who slid in an avalanche and was attacked by a grizzly. The snowstorm cut their visibility down to near zero and as they moved his blood soaked trauma-ridden body out of the avalanche burial. He could still hear the grizzly somewhere close, howling in the hidden whiteout as he provided treatment.

The day after we finished our state practicals we found out about the Las Vegas mass shooting. As the eternal optimist, a silver lining to me was on a day of such madness and mayhem 18 more people walked back into society with the sole intention to help others in their hours of greatest need. It doesn’t cancel out horror or balance the ledger, but it buttressed me a bit to personally know such dedicated professionals that would have been those headed towards the danger.

If any of my classmates ever stumble across this blog entry, I can’t wait to work with you again in the future. Dangling from a chopper or a cliff, pushing the skinny pedal code 3 to a sick child, or just making someone feel better who’s having a bad day: I’d be proud to be there with you.

20171004_124511
Yes, as soon as I got home I popped that shit on my sar chest harness. I know I’m on the lowest end of medical professional but here’s me being proud.
Advertisements