I did pretty well in school. I was in at least the top 75% of my class, haha. Its weird to have my first real college degree in Paramedic science, but still not be an actual Paramedic. After school is over, you have to pass two tests to be certified as a medic. Before this test, I'd already passed the written knowledge test.
This test is a practical test, where you have to demonstrate actual skills in the appropriate order. I had to demonstrate 15 different skills. Some of the skill stations I was pretty comfortable with, and some of them I was more nervous about. All in all, I felt like I was prepared. Nervous, but prepared.
Well after eight hours mostly spent waiting to go into the testing rooms, I can't say I was feeling very confident. My saving grace was knowing that if I'd only failed a few of the stations, that I was allowed a second chance at those stations. Finally when the results finally came, it turned out that I'd failed two stations. One of them I knew immediately what I'd done wrong, and was ready to correct my mistake of administering one drug, and saying it was an entirely different drug (don't let this scare you people in the public, I'm usually pretty good at this stuff, and almost never kill my patients) The other skill I failed was cardiology.
I thought I was good at cardiology, until two days before the test when I was practicing and started struggling. I spent some extra time studying and managed to make myself believe that I had my mojo back. Well I didn't I guess. The first time I tested at that station, I actually felt confident. The second time I went up to test, I completely fell apart.
They hand you these sheets with cardiac rhythm strips and ask you what you would do. Four cards, four different patients. When I went up the second time, I just sat there staring at the sheet, sweating, mumbling to myself about things like P to R intervals, and sinus rhthyms and whatnot, and just panicked. I managed to finish, somehow, but I knew it wasnt my best work.
After another hour or so of waiting for my results, still sweating the lady came down and gave the rest of my class their result. Everyone passed, except one. Me.
The worst thing was I rode over to the test with three of my friends, who were all struggling not to show their elation at finally being done. They're good friends. I could tell that they were bottling up their joy for my benefit. I kept telling them that I was proud of them, and that they should be happy. But they stayed mellow, and I stayed mad at the world.
So, as usual, I am struggling to find the lesson here. I guess what I'm thinking is that if nothing else, it keeps me humble. I worked hard to get through school, but it had come relatively easy to me. This setback is making me more determined. When I went home and tried to drown my sorrows in an extraordinary amount of french fries, I started focusing on the next two weeks. Before my next test, I am going to be the world's foremost leading expert on cardiology static strips. Maybe one day, because of my newfound motivation I can help somebody I wouldn't have been able to before. How's that for some positivity?
Sorry this isn't a funnier post, or better written but my sister always tells me I should write more. And I figure this is a good place to vent, and recenter my chi.
I know it isn't healthy, but I tend to few my accomplishments as big fat middle fingers in the faces of those who tore me down. But I view my failures as just another kick in the crotch by the same people who took away everything I once loved.
