Reborn, And Free To Post As A Paramedic

So I wander back to my meager beginnings now a full fledged Paramedic.

Still of course, I continue to work in the shadows of "real" paramedics, as the ink dries on my certification cards.

Once again, I'm reminded that with everything important there's always a marathon length of red tape to cut through. As I neared the finish line, it just seemed to look farther and farther away.

Looking back at some of the wonderful people I was fortunate enough to learn under and the value that the many patients I assisted gave, I can't help but wonder why one's clinical experience seems more like a hazing ritual for a fraternity then an avenue to gain confidence and competence in caring for the ill and injured?

I'm amazed at the level that students were treated during their clinical rotations. And at most times, the ridiculous expectations of how a student should act and carry on. Now I will say, that as an adult learner and previous college level graduate, I'm no longer a child, (hell, 30 is jumping up my ass, quickly) and I will not tolerate being treated as a child. I'm appalled to see the lengths that preceptors go to make for damn sure that their students knew their "role." Including the constant reminders that students and paramedics are not, and never will be even remotely close to what a nurse is. That students are not worthy of looking other paramedics in the face and definitely now worthy of bothering them with their inconsequential babbling. It is absolutely disgusting behavior by professional tacked with saving our loved ones.

To work and slave so hard through this process, all to figure out that the brotherhood to you've just joined is this pathetic, it actually saddens me that I've joined.

I know that many other professions have there hazing rituals. Medical students and residents are constantly bombarded with skut work during their educational journeys. And I can't speak to the dynamics of those relationships. But I can say that I personally have no reason why I would treat a potential addition to my profession with such disdain. Why do preceptors not embrace potential paramedics that they might work with. Why wouldn't they be welcomed and allowed to learn without the constraints of being the red-headed-step-child or the beaten dog.

Well, when the day comes and I have to option to precept a future paramedic student, I promise that I will show respect for their commitment and treat them as a human being worthy of being there.

And not like the petty, insecure wannabe paramedics and nurses that I observed.

So It's Been A Long Time

Well with the start of all that is cardiology time has been in high demand and low availability. Hence the very large gap in postings. All that aside class is going well, still managing to maintain the 4.0 I've been rolling with since the beginning. Staring at rhythm strips and algo's is getting a little boring but surprisingly comforting. I'm still surprised that I can even hang in this course, as it was billed as a very hard program. But I think once you're up to speed, maintaining the pace is not a problem. It's the slow times that set you back, busy doesn't seem that busy anymore.

I hope that this theory carries over to actual paramedic work. That after you get up to racing speed, everything slows down as you don't feel the speed, just the acceleration. Baby Medic called it along time ago. He wondered something along the lines of "how can I get all that I need to do, done, in the short time I'm given?" And I wonder the same thing. I know right away, you get what you can done and hopefully that still provides adequate care to you patients. Later on, with better skills and time management, you can add things to the list and complete more in the same time frame.

Back to Partyology.

Wrapping Up

With one semester behind me, I'm proud to say I made it, proving myself both right and wrong. With the much needed confidence boost, I look forward to the courses to come without many reservations. I made it through pharmacology, I sure as hell can make it through cardiology. Which just happens to be the next mountain to summit. So while everyone is out enjoying the summer, I shall be nose deep in a textbook. Maybe I'll sneak outside and bask in the sun while reviewing cardiac rhythms.

I'm smart enough to know I don't know jack yet and I still need to keep practicing the basics but, it's nice to think I might have picked up a few things along the way.

One Semester Down

If class was a party, the keg would almost be cashed. With two finals over and done with we are able to take a breath and relax a bit over the weekend. One final tarnishes the coming week, thankfully it's on Tuesday. The rest of the week will be nice and low key, no tests, just show up and help the class ahead of us get ready for their clinicals.

A weekend will be the only break we enjoy between semesters, as our summer session picks up right away. Behavioral and environmental issues will become our new universe to discover. Bring on the crazies.

From One Frying Pan To The Next

Apprehension built up from classes ahead of us had convinced us that pharmacology would be the next great test of our abilities to incorporate and ultimately retain a massive amount of material. The previous student were correct, there was a large amount of material to retain, but the mountain was not quite as tall as they had made it sound. I walked away with an "A" without feeling very tested. Do I remember every detail of every drug, no. But I walk away with a huge interest, which will compel me dig deeper in an attempt to know more than the average medic. Really, do any of us actually say "I just want to sneak by, hoping to avoid the ton of trouble created by not properly caring for our patients. No we want to be the smartest kid in the room of smart kids. We are too damn proud to just be "in" the room of smart kids. Which is of course the bane of every medics existence. We believe deeply that knowledge is power. Our pharmacology section is completed, the road work has been laid. From here on out it's our job to finish on our own.

We start our airway section on Monday. We've been given a large reading assignment to complete over the weekend. Adding a little flavor as we sizzle in our new frying pan.

Redemption

During our pharmacology we've of course been practicing our IV techniques. For some this includes blindly digging with hopes of just a little blood to show a flash, while others must be using the magnetic needles that seek out veins. I've been somewhere in between, constantly tortured be the wing needle. We start testing on Monday.

Dispatch to a late 20's or early 30's male in seizure. After ascending the stairway to heaven we find our patient. Presenting in the usual manner, prone on the bathroom floor and of course with his pants at his ankles. You almost made it buddy. His tachy and fairly hypoxic at 74%. He continues to wiggle around, his usual postictal activity as we are told. With a big bear hug and some quick work on the pants we chair lift him down the stairs to our cot waiting at the front door. He continues to tug on the oxygen mask and flail about as we head for the ambulance. I'm tasked with starting an IV on Mr. Seizure. Honestly I would have rathered him still be in seizure as I think he would probably not have such large movements. Lethargic as his is, his still remembers what an IV is and how it feels. I find a perfectly suitable vein, much more accommodating than anything I've found in class. The 18g slides right in, and is if on cue he moves and I lose my tamponade and the blood drains down onto my leg and on the seat as I move his arm over it. With a little clean up, it's as good as gold.

Why can I start a perfect IV in a moving rig, on a fighting seizure patient with rather dark skin, but can't seem to strike gold on an arm placed perfectly on a table, beautiful lighting and skin like porcelain. The outcome is ultimately better for the patient, but not for my grades.

Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader?

So with the start of pharmacology we began brushing up on our math skills. Kicking it off with calculating dosages. Now I took every advanced math class during high school. The previous college level math wasn't easy either, but I might have created a minor dependence on the "calculator." Apparently being on the "calc" as I'm putting it, drastically decreases your ability to navigate even elementary math problems. Setting up the proper equation is very simple, but who knew that one should remember how to divide long handed. I'm limping a bit without the "calc" as my crutch. But a few more problems and I should be fine. After the lovely spring break that I'm enjoying we shall break into calculating drip rates.

As I look around our classroom and watch the struggling students I can't help but notice that they are almost always the youngest of the class. I'm saddened by the implications this brings to light. I hope that this does not highlight the inadequacies of the current educational systems in place to teach our younger generations. Just some food for thought.

Bring on the Big Sticks

So, we've finished our first of many patient assessment portions of class, now on to pharmacology. Just to get us all thinking over the weekend we blindly jumped into the world of IV therapy. After a little lecture time and playing with the IV arm, we started in on each other. Now being someone who is already varianced, I was the first victim. I was more than happy to be the first lab rat. After a little smooth talking someone stepped forward to "give it a try." Sort of joking and mostly serious the instructor told us "this first time, I just want to see that you actually break the skin, anything more is just icing on the cake." Well with a little instruction with the cath in my arm, the willing medic student achieved a nicely patent IV. I think she was more nervous about hurting me than actually getting it into the vein. She did a hell of a lot better than the participants did in my first IV class. Because I was one who had performed this skill on the ambulance before, I had to wait for everyone else to try their luck. My turn came right before the end of class, with the 40's y/o female with one kidney and veins that are non existent from years of dialysis. Sometime later we might address how she thinks she can do this job, but a new blog would be needed to encapsulate those feelings. She had crap veins, everything you saw looked like a windy road on the side of a mountain, you couldn't feel anything either. After inspecting both arms, including the one in the sling, the instructor gave me a little reprieve and allowed someone else to sit in. It was the same girl who had started with me. Not wanting to increase the size of the new bruise she was developing, I went for an of the road vein. And just like fate who have it, I missed. She was a champ though and even let me dig a little bit. But I broke the skin as the instructor wanted. Isn't school humbling. We start pharm on Monday. God help me.

And On To The Next

Well with A&P and Cell Physiology out of the way, we are on to the first step of patient assessment.
Oh how much I miss a real live patient to look at. This is where I disagree with the old timers who claimed that being an EMT for a couple of years was essential to becoming a good paramedic. Over the course of being an EMT I seemed to have lost my imagination, replacing it with actual visualization. Right now I'm having some difficulty with providing an assessment to a patient that besides being a 19 y/o punk, is completely healthy. Not the typical gray hair tripoding as I walk in the door, or the lethargic hypoglycemic staring glossy eyed at the TV. Granted yes, I do have the ability to compile my thoughts to provide a coherent report. Though I certainly have not retained the ability to verbalize what I'm looking at/for when assessing a patient. Seems to me, besides actually knowing the flow of the call, I'd be better off without any field experience at all. Having never been tainted by the real world.
And what in the hell is this oral station that National Registry has. First of all it seems very strange to test the ability to imagine my way through a call, especially when medics seem to be so touch orientated to begin with. I know I'm just bitching for the sake of bitching, but it just seems out of place. Although I do believe I can have a little fun with this. With the traffic lights on, I place the vehicle in park, removing the keys as I exit, I place my left foot in front of my right, then place my right foot in front of my left, I continue this until I have reached the patient's side.

Almost Over The First Hump

With the implending A&P final coming up next weekend there is an oh so litle lull in the action. A night all to myself, sure I should be working on assignments due in the very near future, but for tonight I had nothing due tomorrow. I sat in complete contentness in front of the TV flipping between a couple of movies, slowly drinking a beer that actually felt as refreshing as the rockies themselves. However brief this luxurious rest was going to be, I was going to use every second of it, soaking it up like a sponge. Knowing full and well that the next couple of days would be spent nose deep in numerous books, trying to figure out what information should be remember and what could be discarded.

So I lounge, warmed by the fire and the fleece blanket, snoring like a banshee on the couch.

Ah, lazy like a cat out strecthed in the window, being warmed by the sun.

And now the spell check doesn't work, well hopefully it's not that bad.

Nearly Up To Racing Speed

As I sit down once again at my computer, continuing with all that is anatomy and physiology, medical terms and a presentation of the endocrine system looming in the darkness I can't help but want to take a nap. Almost a month in and my ability to function on little to no sleep is increasing, granted I think I was ahead of the curve. Lately it seems as though my entire existance revolves around this computer. I tote it to school, typing at every chance. Drag it home to type until my face hits the keyboard, signaling bed time.

It's definately an extreme uphill battle, and so far I've faught my way through it. I finally feel as though I can see the big picture that contains all the assignments to be done and all the pages to be read. It took a long time, in relative terms I guess, but I'm getting there. I hope that the up coming tests don't go as badly as I think they might. I fortunately have a little bit if time left to study, it's not quite the time to panic just yet. Well unless you include the general apprehension that is always nipping at my ass. I can do this.

If Only I Had Listened To Everyone

I put the truck into park in the school parking lot. Beside my window a figure stands, I wait for him to pass, but instead to taps on my window. It's a familiar face. The face belongs to man that had been hired on the fire department with me. A classmate if you will. I dismount the vehicle, my hair's done, but otherwise I'm a mess, still tired from the late night of A&P reading. He's dressed in a uniform and looks well rested. "What in the hell are you doing here, run, run while you still can, it's not to late!" he says. He's not quite amazed to see me attending school to become a medic, he is more amazed that anyone would subject themselves to this particular level of torture. "Aw come on, it's not that bad." I fire back with, as we walk inside.

Now I've been taking fire classes for three years straight and it wasn't that long ago that I finished college. It seems like a distant memory now. I've managed to forget just how much work this is. The technical college that I attending was great. The fact that I almost already knew the material was even better. There were hard times and a couple of late nights working on projects, but I don't think I ever had to study. Sure I paged through books for random facts or interesting topics. But it was never material I didn't know something about.

You could knock my of with a feather this time around. It feels as if my head in not correctly fitted to my shoulders, it spinning around as it does. Learning all the medical terminology and anatomy and physiology and this and that and more. Read this and this and this tonight, there's a quiz on this Tuesday and a test of Friday, oh by the way have your papers done for Monday. Have a fun weekend. Christ what weekend. It's not like I get to sleep in or anything. I just don't have to drive to school. I've muttered the phrase, "If so and so can do it, I certainly can." Well I might not have much respect for the knowledge some people have now, but I certainly respect their level of commitment then.

How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.

God this sucks.

On With The Madnes

It's official, I'm a college student once again. Compared to the private tech school I attended previously this community college is a whole new beast. My tech school was modeled in strict accordance with the expectations our future employers would require. Professional attire, impeccable sense of time management, ability to function as a team member and so on. What a wake up call, not that my class is not professional, they come on time and for the most part don't swear as much as I do. But times have changed and kids are different now, a little less respectful of the staff and the rules they've made.

What a week. On top of the workload to become accustom to during the first week of class, I also had to deal with my fire department commitments and still study for an additional state exam. Saturday could not have come quick enough. Right now the class is of course quite basic and boring. The teachers do a good job of making it interesting and inspiring fantastic discussions that attempt to get everyone passionate and involved.

Friday concluded the week with a water rescue review and practical. It was a nice end to the week, "playing" around in a pool, practicing with back boarding and rope bags. The instructor brought in his scuba gear and let us monkey around with it. Which I thought was an absolute blast.

It appears that the coming months will continue to be busy with assignments. I can't wait to get into the topics that make medics medics though.

The Nerves Tighten

I'm fairly anxious but largely apprehensive regarding the fast approaching start to my paramedic course. I agonize over the transition from full time employee back to college kid. Will I be able to view class and homework like I do my job? Using intrigue to power me through the course. Or will I falter at the starting line maybe mutle through only to ultimately fail later? Can I really do this? I'm filled with doubt in every direction. It's my nature to be the know-it-all and always strive to find the details no one else cares to know. But looking ahead to the larger pond, I'm scared. Hell, can I even make enough money to keep the lights on?

It seems the difference between role model medics and their less competent counterparts is quite large. I can't help but look at some medics and think, "If they can do it, I certainly can." And with that I continue on. Buying the notebooks, highlighters and pens, I feel like an elementary student getting all his school supplies ready. Should I buy glue sticks or bottles? I need to stop by the college and get my books and a couple of identification badges. Then swing by the uniform store to pick up the required apparel.

So I sit, as prepared as I can be, waiting for the green light and buzzer that signals me to approach the door and take that big leap, free falling, hoping my chute opens and I will eventually land comfortably.

The trip will no doubt be a mixture of scared shit less and pure exhilaration.

My Birthday Weekend

Christmas must be approaching quickly as it's time again for my birthday. Other than the obligatory knock down drag out party I will have this weekend, it seems this weekends festivities will be nice and low key. I still find it interesting to sit back and examine how the dynamic of my friendships change with time. Looking back on the years I've had and the experiences that time has provided, it always amazes me to grow up just a little more. One more rung up on the ladder, gaining yet another vantage to view from. My ever changing values structure, shifting this way and that. Watching life change around me, as friends marry and start their own families. Adding more people to the party. Creating a larger more extending family then before. Spouses and maybe kids now attend our functions, before maybe a fleeting girlfriend would wonder through, gone just as quick as she arrived, on the next. "What was her name again?" "Never mind her, meet Liz, she's the new one."

I've always thought of my life in the context of a story. Weighing somethings on whether or not they would add an interesting chapter to my life as a book. Wondering if "this" would be a good story to tell me children, would they learn anything from it. Will they think daddy's crazy for leaving everything and starting medic school. Will they even comprehend this train of thoughts.

As I look back at another year spend, I'm happy. I don't think I've squandered to much time. I've taken the time to smell the roses and enjoy the warmth of sun on my face. Wrestled this my nieces and let the dogs lick my face. I'm content.

Oh The Holiday Rush

I know I'm not alone when I say, damn the holidays are busy. It seems as if the population triples, people are everywhere. More on the roads, at the grocery store and of course at any retail shopping center. Even the hole-in-the-wall places that I go to cannot escape the masses.

The one thing that has been fairly slow is our call volume. The ice and snow covered roads have not produced their yield of car accidents, Thanksgiving did not send anyone to the hospital for heart attaches, no tried to pull the plug on themselves. Average citizens might believe that it is the holiday spirit keeping everyone safe, I put more stock into human nature. As we know the tides will turn. I express no ill will to any one, but a little excitement might be nice.

Due to the shackles of a normal day job I was unable to join in the festivities of our latest house fire. Which really pissing me off. Working close to home has advantages, but the fact that the pager picks up the tones sometimes is not one of them. Sure I get to listen and laugh at some calls, and cringe at others.

On the bright side I hooked up with an outfit that will allow me to function as a fire instructor in live burns. Which is awesome.

Weekends

As I start the week I feel slightly more drained, even for a Monday. Friday was nothing more than an alcoholic blur of bar hopping culminating in a game of basketball at 0430 in a community recreation center. My friend is the caretaker and lives on site. Saturday was filled with fuzzy headed four wheeling in the cold overcast weather. The unexpected dip in the river turned the ride into a wet cold cloudy day. But fun was had by all, with no human injuries we were left to limp home on machines that were not be built tough enough for how we ride. We broke one half shaft, completely submerged one in the river and ruined the transmission on another. I arrived home just in time to slip into bed and get a little rest as I started my on call shift 0800 Sunday morning.

The gods apparently decided that sleeping in was not needed as the tones went off at 0830 for a minor call I can't even remember. Easily enough we turned the call pretty quick, just in time to attend breakfast with the usual group. I bob and weave my way down the buffet line and hit the table ready for round one. I grasp the first piece of perfectly cooked bacon, not crisp nor undercooked but perfect. After savoring two bites of the coveted meat I'm stolen away as the tones go off again. I feel like I'm singing the 100 bottles of beer on the wall song, as it just another minor call, the only detail to change is the run number. 99 bottles of beer on the wall 99 bottles of beer...

I return in time for my much needed nap, I've gone the extra mile, I'm not messing with the couch, going straight for the gold I crawl into bed. It was awesome, the floating peacefulness as I drift off the sleep only to awake to the nextel and my girlfriend, both parties unaware of my plan. This time a fire truck had an issue requiring a little attention, we did everything we could, but this one is for the surgeons, call the mechanic. I'm back home in a half an hour, will the bed still be warm I think to myself. Well with the tones yelping at me I will never find out. The call sounds promising, an assault ending with a stabbing. The patient walks away with a nice laceration, which is almost surgical looking and the attacker walks away with the PD. Bleeding was controlled before we arrive, turns out it's another minor call, 98 bottles of beer on the wall, 98 bottles of beer. We sailed into the ER, a little pump fake for the ER tech and I find my running back nurse, the hand off is flawless, we're back on the road in minutes. Now a little break, I found someone to cover my calls while I attend nice calm hockey game. The was great, a nice reprieve. Back home and in bed, I will sleep tonight, I insist. Although fun the weekend has taking it's toll and I'm ready for a nice quite night to sleep, leaving me somewhat ready to start the week. Mr. Diabetic saw to it that very little sleep would be had, and of course he takes oral meds and is having issues with them, so he wins the prize of an ambulance ride at 0030 in the morning. Like a snail I drag myself home, slivering into bed, I grab my pillow and hope for silence, I haven't even taken the time to grab the blankets, I leave my socks on.

Almost two whole hours fly by, until Mr. My Tummy Hurts, calls in the reinforcements. I felt sorry though, having the flu sucks, but your wife that was up and followed us in her SUV probably could have brought you in too. But hey I guess I can't think of any better way to piss away a grand then on an ambulance ride. Now it's 0330, I'm tired, the hospital now hates me as I've just about filled up there ER and all I want is a little sleep before I do this all over again tonight. I collapse into bed, I'm asleep in seconds, the weight of the night acts like a heavy quilt and sends me peacefully to sleep. I slept through the night until 0600 for the alarm clock. I had to check the pager to make sure I hadn't slept through anything as I know I was dead to the world.

Now as long as I don't fall asleep at the computer or driving home I can look forward to another night of not sleeping. God, why am I starting medic school?

For Sam over at On the Clock

Sam posed the question of women in EMS and firefighting.

Firefighting is hands down a physical profession, for everyone. Most would say comparing men against women is unfair, it's apples and oranges. The concept that men were biologically designed with larger muscles and stronger skeleton, women being smaller framed with less muscle mass. Everyone assumes then that women could not possible perform as a firefighter. Now I know I will catch a bunch of crap over this, but the women that I've worked with and the women I've been to class with were all more then capable. When using proper body mechanics I've seen women perform the exact same functions as men. During class I've been "rescued" from a ladder by a gal who probably weighed in at 110. Now being roughly six foot tall and on a good day weighing in at 270 in full turnout gear, I'm quite the victim to rescue. The gal performed perfectly, using the techniques she was taught. There is only one act that I think some women might not have the brute strength to tackle, the rescue of a down firefighter. Now, do I believe that anyone man or women is dragging my 270 pound ass out of a burning building, absolutely not. I have never had a problem working with women in general, of course I've had attitude conflicts but none related to gender. My personal exception is women that are on the fire department for the wrong reasons. Systems that run both fire and ems, like mine, seem to have women that are there strictly for the ems portion and not the fire. Firefighting is a due that they pay for be able to work in ems. These are the people in my experience that do not put in the effort and sometimes don't seem fit for the job. Don't forget, the physical tests are the same for both sexes, at least where I'm at.

As for EMS
I shall choose my words wisely as my lady is a full time paramedic for a large private ambulance company in town. I would prefer to ride with at least one women on the crew, that way the ambulance has someone to clean it, I'm just kidding so settle down. I can recall many runs where having a women aboard was a huge benefit. Setting aside the issue of skills as anyone can learn to read the monitor or start an IV and with hydraulic stretchers no one has to lift anymore. I will say a women's touch is a real thing and not just for calls with "women's issues." I don't think anyone would disagree with the notion that women have a greater nurturing effect than men. Lets face it, does a small child whose scared from a accident on his bike run to a man in uniform or a woman. Does an out of control drunk patient not play nice if he thinks he's going home with his female caretaker. I'm not insinuating that women should be used to distract a patient simply because they are female, but there seems to be a certain calming effect. Could one hypothesis that that might be a reason that historically most nurses are women? Just a thought. Having a women partner just makes sense to me, you have the best of both worlds.

My One True Passion

Firefighting might be just another way to earn a paycheck for some. It consumes me. I really live for it.

I sit, always ready to jump when the bell rings. Kissing my lady goodbye as I run out the door, knowing I have her as my personal medic to put me back together, she's usually right behind me. Even in my bedroom my pants lay on the floor with my boots pulled through the legs, socks tossed over the top, a shirt floats above in the breeze of the ceiling fan. My gear sits completely prepared for me as well. Everything is hung in the order of it's donning. Pants and boots below, hood on the outside hook, coat on the back hook, mask beside it, helmet on the top shelf, gloves strapped to the coat. Granted I operate the apparatus quite frequently, But I jump at the chance to ride in back, as one of crew that will eventually enter. Crawling in the darkness, searching for that warm glow. You can't see the fire, but you can feel it. The heat tells you where to go. Up the stairs, down the hall, now you can hear it. It crackles like a camp fire and roars with the wind. You might even crawl right on top of it, the golden flicks of light crawling up you mask, never fear you've got your gear. Just back up and let loose.

As the pump operator your job is primarily over by the time the firefighters start theirs. By the time they have pulled their hose to the front door, I've flipped all my switches, turned my cranks and pulled my levers. I've given them their holy water by the time they hit the door. If all goes well there is a hydrant close. After establishing a water supply my job tends to slow down. I babysit a $500,000 truck for the duration of the call. I stand in the freezing rain and snow, walking gingerly on the ice rink I've turned the street into. Myself and old man fire will not visit today. Not without virtue, the operator plays defender to the firefighters. Against oncoming cars on the freeway, dark alleys and muddy swamps and with water, their life blood.

I'd take either, in a minute. Now if only there was a call.

Did you unplug the toaster?

We might have lost this one, but look at the proud papas getting their pictures taking.

I survived another live burn with the endless supply of over zealous rookies who're more than eager to battle the sinister Old Man Fire.

I of course did my best to train these monkeys with the dreadful thought that someday I might have to actually expect them to put out fire, without peeing themselves, mind you. We'll wash your gear if you get dirty from a fire, not for soiling yourself. No one went running frantically when the fire barely licked my helmet. They zigged and zagged appropriately and managed not the hurt themselves in the process.

I shall of course take this time to boast on my many victories of the day. I won my first instructor a drink at the bar. (The betting instructor had hid a second little fire that would have blocked my exit and made for some real fun. Sneaky bastard that he is.) Granted I took the bait way down into my stomach.

With nozzle in hand I open the front door, the kitchen to my right is only smoky, I continue right past it as nothing peaks my interest. I round a corner to find a dining room fully involved. Flames cross the ceiling above me, like a sunny day in the mountains I can feel the radiant heat through my gear. I soak the ceiling, wet it down until I can see water actually hitting the floor again, remember the ceiling will reach temps of around 1000 degrees without breaking a sweat, meaning when I shoot water up there it might not come back down. Only after the I've applied enough water to dissipate the heat will the water not convert to steam instantly.

"We've got fire behind us!" yells the young crackly voiced newbie.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I've got fire in front of me too." "Let me know when you can't stand up anymore, than I come back and put it out." I retort with.

I finally turn around and shower off the kitchen (The hidden fire), then it's back to business with the inferno of a dining room. Wetting the ceiling will only do so much, you have to get in the room and actually attack what's on fire. Splash the ceiling one last time for good measure and run, I drop to my knees as it's bad form to stand directly in the fire rolling over the ceiling. I eye up my target and let loose with a nice straight stream that will knock the fire out. As the fire dies down the flames retreat from the ceiling as they have no additional heat to keep them ablaze. Mop up the kitchen on the way out and dinner is served. It was a fantastic fire. Granted for training the structure is already ventilated with the windows being broken out already. This provides a huge advantage as you can see. Normally in a house fire you can't see your hand in front of your face. I can personally guarantee most will never be able to appreciate how utterly alone you feel. Never mind that your knees burn as your crawl through the lava the carpet became when it melted, your shoulder sting as the radiant heat seeps right through your gear. If you are in there long enough the air in your will super heat and feel as though you are breathing from a blast finance. Other than that it's a walk in the park.

Remember folks, you never take your mask off, when you run out of air you better get really friendly with god, because if take one breath of 500 degree air, well, you just cooked your lungs and there ain't no coming back from that.

Better to pass out with your mask on and hope someone can drag your ass out, at least you gave yourself a chance at being revived.

And you thought firefighting was all about getting chicks while in uniform.

That and I will have the chance to work as a fire instructor, which of course kicks ass.