Shelby
Forum Crew Member
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I'm copying the majority of this from a post I made on Reddit because I don't have the energy or will to type it out again. I don't know if I can continue in school. I'm so tired of people saying, "that's what your dad would have wanted". My dad was happy that I was in medic school because he wanted me to have a career that I loved where I could support myself. I have a difficult time believing that my dad will be so dissapointed if I don't follow through with it, considering how its making me feel. My options are to either try to finish when I have no desire to be there, hoping that I can swing a passing grade when I can barely study, or to start over in September (which seems like an equally bad idea. My group in school have turned into some of my best friends and my support system, starting over without them sounds awful), or to essentially just quit and move on to another interest. I don't want to be someone that quits, but I don't think I can be in this field. I feel like I will relive the worst day of my life every day for the rest of my career.
** copied part
My heart is shattered. I'm an EMT in paramedic school. One of my friends from class was over. I found my dad, my amazing, loving, kind dad, lifeless. I never imagined I would know what it felt like to crack my dad's ribs from performing CPR. I never knew what it felt like to scream so loudly you wake up your building. I can't do this. I can't do this. I've been learning about IVs and intubations, but I never thought I would watch a swarm of medics struggling to intubate my dad on the floor. I can never see the EMS world again or go back to medic school. I can't ever see an intubation kit again. I can't watch the look of horror on a family's face. I can't intubate someone else and imagine my dad gasping for breath. I can't be a medic and I couldn't save my dad. I saw him 40 minutes earlier and I thought something looked off, but I knew he had a terribly long day and I thought he was just sleeping. Why, why, WHY didn't I do something then? I didn't check on him again for 40 minutes. My dad is dead and it's my fault and I wish it were me. He was the most kind, honorable man. I would say that I hope I live a life that makes him proud, but I don't feel like I deserve to live or have any happiness. My dad should be here, I shouldn't have spent the day choosing a funeral home and discussing donating his organs.
My dad wrote this awhile ago. Please read it. Please be like him and make someone smile. Please do it in his memory so that he lives on.
"Every day for the past three years Roosevelt, the 53-year-old janitor for our building, has been working to keep our workplace clean. He and I always say "hi" everyday. All I knew was his name and I don't think he remembered mine.
I ran down to the grocery store and bought a cake and had the words, "Thanks Roosevelt" written on it. Spent all of ten minutes and eighteen dollars to do that.
I had our staff gather around a table in our common area and I ran out and asked Roosevelt to come in our office for a minute. He figured something needed cleaning up.
As he entered our office the staff clapped for him and we all shared cake while making Roosevelt tell us a little bit about himself after we all introduced ourselves to him.
Roosevelt was moved and later told his supervisor about what happened. His supervisor called the building manager to tell them about the little party we had and the building manager called us to thank us for being so kind to Roosevelt.
Ten minutes and eighteen dollars...nothing...but it meant a lot to someone who wasn't expecting to be thanked for doing his job.
I love people and I will never, ever stop trying to make you smile. It's important to me."
** copied part
My heart is shattered. I'm an EMT in paramedic school. One of my friends from class was over. I found my dad, my amazing, loving, kind dad, lifeless. I never imagined I would know what it felt like to crack my dad's ribs from performing CPR. I never knew what it felt like to scream so loudly you wake up your building. I can't do this. I can't do this. I've been learning about IVs and intubations, but I never thought I would watch a swarm of medics struggling to intubate my dad on the floor. I can never see the EMS world again or go back to medic school. I can't ever see an intubation kit again. I can't watch the look of horror on a family's face. I can't intubate someone else and imagine my dad gasping for breath. I can't be a medic and I couldn't save my dad. I saw him 40 minutes earlier and I thought something looked off, but I knew he had a terribly long day and I thought he was just sleeping. Why, why, WHY didn't I do something then? I didn't check on him again for 40 minutes. My dad is dead and it's my fault and I wish it were me. He was the most kind, honorable man. I would say that I hope I live a life that makes him proud, but I don't feel like I deserve to live or have any happiness. My dad should be here, I shouldn't have spent the day choosing a funeral home and discussing donating his organs.
My dad wrote this awhile ago. Please read it. Please be like him and make someone smile. Please do it in his memory so that he lives on.
"Every day for the past three years Roosevelt, the 53-year-old janitor for our building, has been working to keep our workplace clean. He and I always say "hi" everyday. All I knew was his name and I don't think he remembered mine.
I ran down to the grocery store and bought a cake and had the words, "Thanks Roosevelt" written on it. Spent all of ten minutes and eighteen dollars to do that.
I had our staff gather around a table in our common area and I ran out and asked Roosevelt to come in our office for a minute. He figured something needed cleaning up.
As he entered our office the staff clapped for him and we all shared cake while making Roosevelt tell us a little bit about himself after we all introduced ourselves to him.
Roosevelt was moved and later told his supervisor about what happened. His supervisor called the building manager to tell them about the little party we had and the building manager called us to thank us for being so kind to Roosevelt.
Ten minutes and eighteen dollars...nothing...but it meant a lot to someone who wasn't expecting to be thanked for doing his job.
I love people and I will never, ever stop trying to make you smile. It's important to me."
