Ramblings from a geriatric rookie

Once upon a time I was a senior member of a large engineering group. My experience was important and my knowledge was valued. I was one of only 2 people who had ever designed and managed a hydraulic computer model as large as our city. I've figure skated at a national level and I've won rodeo buckles and I did lots of other really big things that you don't want to hear about and I don't want to talk about.

I'm new to this job - with under 2 years experience I'm still a rookie. A strange feeling at my old age. Most of my peeps are a decade younger then me and have been on the job for years. Starting this new career in my 30's comes with feelings I'm still trying to sort through, like feeling old. Like feeling like a rookie.

I recently worked with a youngin' who was almost half my age. When he found out my long-term goal his reaction was "Wow..... you're crazy to do this at your age". *sigh* My age....

I don't like to talk about my previous job or my engineering education at my new gig - most people don't understand the desire for change and comment with confusion "What are you doing here?" Unlike my past gig, no one cares about my engineering knowledge and years of experience.

Yet, when your child is sick or your heart has stopped beating or you're choking on a cucumber you don't care about my credentials or my age. I have paramedic training and that's all that matters. You want my help. You need my help. It's a humbling feeling that in a critical situation it all comes down to keeping my cool and remembering my training.

I'm not getting any younger but the new recruits are. Life experience only goes so far. Some days I wonder if it's all worth it, and it takes all I have to not get my back up and say "screw it, I'm too old for this shit"; especially with the latest set-back with my fitness test. But then I see that red truck screaming down the road with it's crew in their bunker gear and I remember what I'm working towards. 

And I remember that this feelings will be new all over again if I ever move over to the fire side. I'll be older and the recruits will be younger so I better get used to it.

Welcome to my blog

I've made it to the finals for the 2012 Fire Blog of the year! *happy dance*. So now I really need your help - I need your votes once again.

Head on over to the 2012 Fire Blog of the Year and vote for me please! (Click on the red text for the site)

And to all my new readers - welcome. Pull up a chair, grab a coffee (or rum and coke) and enjoy reading about the ride we call life.


About moi: I'm hydrantgirl. A cowgirl. An infertile. A career paramedic striving for a job as a firefighter.

Meet firefighter - a career firefighter paramedic (lucky dawg) with our city. He's been on the job with our city for 9 years and rural for another 5 before that. He's a HAZMAT guy, loves auctions (which you'll hear all about his "deals") and is the domesticated one in the house. Because of him we eat more then Cheerios for supper.

We live in a Canadian city with a population of about 700,000. Our city has career firefighters and our department is a joint firefighter and paramedic service - which we're both employed by.

We've been married 3 years and live on a farm with our horses in the prairies. We work hard and play hard.

 This blog is the trials and tribulations on my journey to becoming a career firefighter and everything in our life is fair game. Hope you enjoy our stories.


Some of our favorite posts (click on the title to open the blog post)


What they don't teach you in school


My feelings on a**hole drivers


The secret to our marriage


The secret to our marriage part II


Fire testing


Where we call home (please don't judge me.....)

patience with my patients

I have worked in customer service my entire life.  My first job at the movie theatre, the western store when I moved across the country "just me and my pick-up truck", even in my professional career with the engineering department. None of those cranky customers could prepare me for some of the patients I've encountered as a paramedic.

I get it, I see you at your worst moments in life. You're scared because your son choked on a piece of lego while you were busy with your drug dealer and you know I'm going to call child and family services. You had a panic attack when the police arrested you for beating up your brother and it's my fault that I'm legally responsible to take your blood pressure. You drank too much booze and pooped your pants and I'm not giving you the sympathy you're looking for which makes me a f*cking b*tch. That's cool, I can take it, I have thick skin. And my thick skin isn't covered in poo.

So when a patient comes along that actually appreciates our service it's a blessing. It's even nicer when we encounter a patient who doesn't want our company yet still maintains their sense of humour.

Old guy (staring is disbelieve at the 4 firefighters, 2 paramedics and medical supervisor standing in his little apartment): "what the hell are you all doing here?"
Me: "well, your daughter called us because she was concerned about you".
Old guy: "I'm fine"
Daughter: "you didn't answer the phone"
Old guy: "I'm deaf, I couldn't hear it!"
Daughter: "You haven't been eating either"
Old guy: "I'm not hungry!"
Daughter: "You should be eating....."
Old guy: "I'm 95 years old. I think I know when I need to eat. I've made it this far in life..."
Me: "So, how do you feel?"
Old guy: "with my hands" *huge smile*

Slumber parties with calender boys

When I got this job I knew that I was going to have to sleep with my co-workers. All of them. At once.

Sure, I loved sleep-overs when I was 8 years old and my best friend and I would stay up all night watching Tom Cruise movies and eating too many Skittles, but things are different when you're sleeping with 8 firefighters you just met .  

Most of the halls in our city have private rooms for anyone of importance or rank (Officers, District Chief, Medical Supervisor). The rest of us sleep in a dorm together; a large room with rows of single beds. If there is enough space the beds might be divided by a row of lockers. The lack of privacy is a tad scary, especially for someone like moi who's been known to talk in their sleep.

It usually happens when I'm pooped (and exhaustion is a common occurrence on night shifts on the truck). And I don't mumble sweet nothings, but I scream and yell at imaginary men standing over my bed. FF was in for a surprise the first few times I jumped out of bed pointing at the wall screaming at the face I thought I saw. He figures I should have warned him about this habit of mine, I figure it keeps the spice in the bedroom.

It hasn't happened at work *yet*, but I'm waiting for the day. Fingers crossed the snoring of the dude beside me will drowned me out, otherwise I may never live it down.

Fire & EMS blog of the year

I'm privileged to be part of 2012 Fire & EMS Blog of the Year contest (click the red link to find out more).



I'll be honest, I'm not sure if I'm part of the fire or EMS contest as I'm somewhat floating along right now, but I'm very honored to be part of the contest none-the-less.

So click this link and vote for me (my url is http://hydrantgirl.blogspot.com/ ) or any other of the worthy fire and ems blogs out there and share the love.

Thanks ya'll.