I have to conjure a new me. At least I’m alive to. I had that much sense. There really are far worse things. The circumstance just hurts really bad and I’m really fucking angry about it. Crushed. I’m only losing job security, benefits, seniority, vacation time, early retirement, wages and professional identity, not to mention a career I actually liked and spent my entire adult life working on before I got “injured”. That’s all. But WSIB tops up 85% of my earnings loss so hip hip hooray. What’s one more injured plebian paramedic to the road-disinterested upwardly mobile beyond proof that they can disseminate the hard truths for their rank and pay?

Remember the medic who had a heart attack and was immediately promoted to an administrative supervisor upon his return? Crazy. Like I keep saying, and everyone who treats me keeps ignoring, I’m just not one of those folks other folks naturally like. I thought I had finally found somewhere different. There isn’t anywhere.

What is the positive, or the lesson? How can this make me a better person? Being a paramedic was what made me a better person, at least in the eyes of the society I’m supposed to want to remain a part of, so how does one let that go? How does one shift mindset to making someone else money as reason? How does one go from the exemplar of purpose and high-function attending to emergencies to accepting disability and being a poor example of domestication? Hell, other than family no one I knew prior to college and my career chose to keep in contact, so how do I willingly choose to be that person again?

It isn’t a choice. I just am that person. I’ve been told I lack confidence but I actually think being true and honest as both an individual and about my chosen profession, despite any consequences, exudes far more confidence than folding and throwing away the chips on the table does. I never accepted defeat. I tried and tried and pushed through exhaustion to try a bit more. Despite staying quiet about proclaiming minor victories as it made me feel too smug in a world judged on capacity I was still having them, and I will still continue to have them.

My youngest son turns 10 in a couple of days, and we held his birthday party yesterday. I felt present, I joked around, interacted with his friends and had fun. Despite the chaotic nature of children and the unpredictable noise that comes with it I was there. If that doesn’t show resiliency in the midst of incredible personal turmoil I don’t know what else I can do. This is my so-called MMR. Take it or fuck off.

Until next time, stay recovered!