I’m listening to Mr. Lif. The big journey downtown to the train station went allright, and I even did it on my own. There was some sweating and nervousness on the train, and at one point I had to put my sunglasses back on to conceal the tears tugging at the edges of my eyes. The nausea tried to throw me off. The rock never left my hands. I got there, left the train last and let the crowd disperse while I pretended to be busy on my phone, then made my way inside. “Be cool” I thought. “You got this”. My OT found me and we made our way to a busier place in the station. Anxious yes, but still able to converse. The crowds and noise waxed and waned. I had a couple moments of focus problems. Everyone there was doing their own thing, making their way to wherever it was they were going. Except for the drunk man sitting on the floor in a hallway smoking his collection of discarded cigarette butts. He would soon become a call, his fate a matter of his level of intoxication and belligerence when approached. For the moment he wasn’t harming anyone unless second-hand smoke is your crusade. We moved to a different area for some of the time. I was challenged to stand away from the wall. Then time to head back home. After a few minutes outside the station we made our way back to where the train home was. It was waiting, and I got in seconds before the doors closed. Pleased I didn’t have to wait half an hour alone for the next one I settled into my seat after realizing I was one of four people in that train car. The hospital didn’t even hit me as hard on the way home either. It was like a reward for what I accomplished today.

My first call as a student was for a heroin overdose in a shitty apartment over a store on a main downtown street. I felt like I contributed but in retrospect I was more like another piece of equipment that first day. I took vital signs and watched in admiration of it all. My first call as an autonomous paramedic was an anaphylactic reaction that I had to treat with epinepherine 5 minutes into the shift. There was no build-up. Trial by fire as my experienced partner, the even more experienced ALS response medic and the restaurant patrons looked on. I had literally graduated the orientation program and received my epaulettes barely 12 hours prior. The shift continued in that fashion; chest pain, asthma attack, unconscious. It didn’t matter to the calls how long I had been on the job.

I’m listening to Black Sabbath. Sabbath Bloody Sabbath. I got through those first days. I’ll get through these ones too. My wife talks of seeing things through a different lens. What I think of my mental illnesses is irrelevant to me having them but it sure changes dealing with them. I’m going to peak when it comes to this exposure therapy stuff. Probably staring into the back of an ambulance, frozen, too scared to get in and cursing myself for it. I’ll learn to be okay with it if that’s the case. The curses will subside. But I get ahead of myself again. For now, the train station, and today I did okay with that.