Personal Narrative: Emergency Medical Technician

No sound strikes more fear and excitement in a firefighters heart, than when the screeching of an alarm echoes through the fire station. Those emotions intensify as we race to the ambulance as vague details of the call crackle over the radio. In those moments it is vital to compose yourself and harness those emotions and channel them into -------. As I sat at the station one night studying for an exam I had the next morning, the alarm began to ring out. In an instant I went from student to EMT and began on one of my most memorable calls. As dispatch relayed the details of single vehicle rollover with multiple passengers, we began to develop a plan.

A music box like sound twinkled with a bright tune throughout the hospital. Its tune was heard from the quiet and calm patient rooms, through the long white hallways, and to the comfortable hospital lobby where I stood waiting. I wonder what that sound was? Well, who cares? I’ve got other things to worry about. It was my first day of volunteering at the Fountain Valley Regional Hospital. The first tasks I was assigned were to greet, to help, and to escort visitors to their destination. My shaky hands were clasped together in an attempt to stay calm. Jeez I hope I don’t get lost while escorting a visitor.

It has been my dream since I was 5 years old to be in the Los Santos Emergency Response Team. I have always lived in the city of Los Santos, and I know this state like the back of my hand. I love helping/saving people, as well as enforcing the rules with no exceptions. My dad was a medic in this city until a few years ago when he was killed in action. Ever since then it has been my life work to make my father proud of me by Following his footsteps and make sure no one ever gets hurt in my city again. A little bit more about me is that I am 6 foot 7 inches tall, I work out everyday, I have an excellent memory, I can run a mile in 3 mins, I can do 80 pull ups in a minute, and I have a 4.5 GPA. I donate a lot of my free time to the local animal

Roy and Joanne began to notice some changes as the next few days went by, causing both of them to become more excited and optimistic. For some reason, even though neither talked too much about what they discussed about before, Johnny seemed to trust Roy and Joanne. He seemed to trust Roy more than Jo, but considering how close the two had been before, it wasn’t too surprising. It also gave Jo the chance to spend more time with Chris and Jenny. John also finally started to be awake more than he was asleep, although he took frequent naps throughout the day and could fall asleep without warning. One thing that didn’t surprise anyone was how fast Johnny’s appetite came back. It seemed after his first meal, despite being unable to eat much at once,

As an EMT I strive to give back to my community everyday. Risking to save patients from the most obscure and gruesome situations. I advocate to my patients preventive care from simple hygiene practices to checking catheters for infection. Educating my community is personally important. Being able to prevent illness instead of treat is an ideal scenario for me as an EMT as well as to my patients well- being.

I am pleased to write to you on behalf of Melanie Grossman, who is applying to enter a fine Physician Assistant program through CASPA. As Bucknell University’s viola instructor, I had a four-year association with Melanie, meeting with her weekly for one-hour viola lessons. Additionally, throughout her Bucknell tenure, she performed with the Bucknell Orchestra, an ensemble that rehearsed under my direction for three hours each week. In both situations Melanie distinguished herself by her outstanding musical gifts, and by her unwavering commitment to excellence, rating in the top 10% of students that I have taught in my twenty-nine years of collegiate teaching.

The nurse gestured for me to come closer. I took a few steps forward and she leaned towards me and whispered, “Try holding her hand. You’ll help her feel more at ease.” I was a little hesitant but I did as I was told and took the patient’s hand. I felt her hand mold into a strong grip around mine without hesitation. While the patient’s grip never lessened on my hand, sometimes it would clench up for a moment before slowly relaxing again. The rest of the staff was busy following the surgeon’s directions, moving quickly around the room. I felt uncomfortable being the only one standing still, doing nothing. So I glanced at the patient. She was breathing hard with her eyes closed, her hand still securely around mine. My hand was starting to hurt, so I tried to ease it out of her grip. But as the patient winced in pain, she grabbed my hand even more strongly.

Oh my sweetness, You always make my heart flutter... I enjoy our chat as well. Thanks for sharing with me, and I'm sorry once again... How was your weekend? I hope you had a wonderful one with your cute kids? My weekend is long and busy, today is my day off, but there is an emergency, and I'm recommended to work at the emergency Department; I hope I don't work late tonight. Despite my busy schedule, you never leave my heart. Time runs fast, and I'm patiently waiting to finish work and feel you next to me. I'm excited to have you in my world. I can't wait to meet you in person. You're incessantly on my mind

The other day was one of my busiest days on the unit. The day started off looking that all of the other days. I received my patients, looked them up and began to plan the day with my mentor. We went to each room and handed out the group schedules and saw who was up and ready for an assessment and vitals. None of our patients were up yet, so we decided to go back to nurse’s station while letting them get a little more sleep. After sitting there for a bit, one of our patients sisters, who happens to also work on the unit, came up to us to express some concerns. The sister went on to say how she does not believe that her brother is ready for discharge and that she is concerned that he hasn't made enough progress here to be leaving. We told her

From earliest childhood I had always expressed my desire to be a physician. This was driven; in part, by the desire to help others and the influence of the primary care physicians I was exposed to as I grew up in southern West Virginia. These interests lead me to volunteer at a rescue squad and to work at a nursing home.

My role as a nurse's aid at The Meadows of Kalida has been a meaningful job for the last three years. Working as a STNA has provided me the opportunity to work positively and compassionately with the residents, and develop my skills in the healthcare field. This is a fulfilling job because I enjoy helping residents the same way I will when I become a physical therapist. The individuals I assist, as well as fellow employees have shown me the meaning of life and selflessness. My work as a restorative aide has also given me first hand experience in the therapy department. I work with patients and support them as they complete physical exercises specified by the nurse. Since I am working towards becoming a therapist, this opportunity has provided

When I think of my dad, I think of the brilliant, confident, capable man who deals with upset, angry patients all day. I remember in the fourth grade, on career day, my father came in to talk about his profession, an Emergency Room doctor. He explained to my class the ups and downs of being a doctor, what he absolutely loved and what he sometimes couldn't stand. He talked about the amazing feeling of saving someone's life and the devastating feeling of losing one. I remember one of the stories he told the class was about a patient he had had the week before. It was a boy, about seven years old, who came into the ER after he had fallen out of a three story window. The child and the mother had been sobbing hysterically and the father was freaking out. My dad, completely calm and collected, handled the situation with great care.

I was playing on the floor with my kids. Their smiles and laughter captivated me. When I got up, something was not right. My heart would not stop racing, my chest felt tight, and my whole body felt very uncomfortable. After fifteen minutes, my heart would not slow down. It was time to go to the emergency room. Something was really wrong. My vision was failing as I tried to fill out the blurry forms they handed me. Nothing was making sense. I could not sit still. My heart kept racing. “Are you feeling any anxiety?” a nurse asks me. It had not crossed my mind until then. Panic crept in.

When I was growing up my parents allowed me to make money by bringing home good grades. I received money for A and Bs on my report card! My mother use to always say "save your money". However, as a kid the first thing I wanted to do was spend my money. Saving wasn't even a meaning to me as a kid. I always knew how much I made from my school your report card always reflected the last nine weeks. I would compare how much I made the last nine weeks to how much I made hat following nine weeks. That allowed me to know how much I earned. Even if I never had any money to show for the last nine weeks. As a child that was the only way I kept track of how much money I made.

After the pastor apologized and hung up the call. Then my parents came in and got on to me, and the finished off saying do o ever pull a stunt like that again. The when they finished the pastor also instructed me on my actions. All of them told me on the only reasons to call the police. Some that he said where If someone is robbing or if someone is badly injured.