"I'm Here to Save Your Ass, Not Kiss It."

I was having such a bad day!

I was writing a final exam and..... well, that was all.  Just the exam.  Totally ruined my day.  There's a bit of a history with this particular exam.

My employer, in conspiring with a college, has decided to formalize my training and, by doing so, is forcing me to make a conscious effort to not stick a pen into my eye every day I wake up.

At some point, important people have agreed that a few nursing courses would be a good compliment to a paramedic's training.  Wrong!  Just wrong.  Wrong.  I work with nurses; trust me when I say that we do a totally different job.  I think they are great, all filled with empathy and compassion and stuff and, I'm glad they work with me so that they can keep me from saying stupid things like, "I'm sorry, did no one tell you that eating french fries three times a day would give you a big ole stinky heart attack?" or "No, I will not grab your smokes on the way out because I'm not going to help you to guarantee that I'm back here carrying your sorry ass up these stairs again." or "I'm interested to know what made you think that sticking a toothbrush up there would help with your constipation." or "Have you heard of Darwin?"

A good nurse partner, much like a parent, knows when I'm about to say something that could land me in a supervisor's office and uses diversion tactics to push my attention elsewhere.  "Look, an eagle."

So, the exam.  I've written this critical care nursing exam once before, without success.  My instructor decided to let me re-write it because, though I had the correct answer to most of the questions, I failed to answer them thoroughly.  Flashbacks to grade 12 math.

When it came time to re-write the exam, I crammed all the phraseology and ideals on family-based practice, oral hygiene a moral distress (what is that?)into my seizing brain only to discover that the college had sent the wrong exam to my proctor.

Flush!  That's the sound of my brain relieving itself.

A week later, I re-crammed for the third time, regurgitated eighteen pages worth of explanations and went back to work.  Now, I wait.

Dear Employer,

Please don't make me be a nurse.  There are people out there who have chosen to be nurses and, thank goodness, have everything that I lack to do the job well.  They are smart, even-tempered and non-judgemental.  I dabble in the smart-enough category but the others are lost on me.

Thanks,

Kim, paramedic.

Comments

[Laurie]

Sigh...no matter what I say here...it will be innapropriate...So like, read my mind.

[Kim]

Ouch.