Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The Idea Takes Shape

After my friend seeded the idea of returning to EMS in my head, I started thinking... maybe I really could be a medic again.

Of course, I immediately had doubts.  The doubts didn't just creep in, they arrived like banshees.  Champion pessimist that I am, I immediately started throwing one roadblock after another into my path:  I've gotten really fat, it's been five years since I was a medic, I would have to start at the beginning, how would I handle taking a basic EMT class, and on and on.

I decided to take a step back and take some time to think things through.  I took each issue and examined it from all sides.  First and foremost is my health.  Fibromyalgia is an insidious condition that manifests in many ways.  It can cause pain, weakness, fatigue, and an occasional mental confusion we like to call "fibro fog."  But, FM does not need to be debilitating.  I have found, through trial and error, that a creative approach to FM has largely beaten my symptoms into submission.  As for my previous injury, upon reflection, I realized that I had not had any pain from those joints in a very long time.  Apparently, time had neutralized that problem as well.  The time factor...it has been five years since I ran my last call.  My certifications have expired, and I am well past the golden window of opportunity for re certification.  I would have to start from the beginning.  At first I rebelled against the idea of taking an EMT-B class.  But, I talked to a few people and every one of them told me I was thinking like an idiot.  They told me not to be embarrassed, that I wasn't really starting over; I was returning from an injury.  They told me to be proud of myself for having the courage to get back into the game.  Okay... health and time aside, that left one big issue, pun fully intended.  I had to face the fact that I have gone way past statuesque to health-threateningly fat.  I am a big fatty!

I have always been big.  Not 10 or 20 pounds over, but BIG.  I was always strong, though, and I was reasonably fit for someone of my size.  I went to the gym, did cardio and weight training, and was always able to do my job well.  I knew that I could lose the weight and get back into fighting condition.  I decided to do it.  I decided to go for the gold.  And that is where this story really begins.

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