I was the youngest person in my company, so at first it makes it hard for people to take you seriously. As time went on I started working with more and more medics becoming a better EMT- basic. Blood never bothered me, unless there was a lot. I started developing anxiety while working. At first I had no idea what was going on, I just thought maybe I was sick.
By that time, I had seen almost everything, dead bodies, broken necks, combative patients. I had been hit, spit on, and puked on. I was also starting to get bad dreams of calls I’d been on. I kept thinking to myself, is this really what I’m meant to be doing. Spring of 2014 I started having really bad anxiety. It was the start of a 24 hr shift, humid day and I could tell I wasn’t feeling well, but like most I was trying to push through.
All the calls were mine that day and then that night I got a new partner for the rest of shift. We had gotten toned for a transfer. So we went and picked up the patient and it was my partners turn to be in the back so I was driving. Once we started on the highway, I got really sweaty and anxious. I told my partner I had to pull over. I knew I didn’t want to hurt anyone by driving any further. Another ambulance had to come and we split up.
One of my co workers took me back to the station and I clocked out for the night. I thought maybe if I slept it off I’d feel better. Well that didn’t happen after that unfortunately I was forced to resign from being an EMT. That day literally broke my heart. I was so good at what I did and I loved it. But deep down I knew I couldn’t perform like I was. Doctor after doctor and no one knew what was wrong with me.
I slipped into depression and figured this is the end. What’s my purpose? My family and friends shunned me out because I wasn’t myself anymore. My mom was the only one who truly fought to find out what was going on. I have generalized anxiety and agoraphobia with some PTSD. To this day I still have bad dreams and think why am I here. But I fight each day knowing I’m going to come out stronger.
I know this probably isn’t a typically story on how things come out but this is really what happened to me. Even though I’m no longer an EMT, I still support. To anyone who is having trouble just know that is light at the end of the tunnel, it just takes time.
– Story written by an anonymous 22 year old EMT-B.