We've been talking a lot in school about critical incident and post traumatic stress, and it has me concerned. I hear about tortured children, innocent murder victims and horrific car accidents. I see images of this trauma; mangled limbs, bloodied faces and unrecognizable body parts. I wonder if I can handle it. I don't want to fill my mind with these images, I don't want to see things that will cause me to wake up in terror in the dark of the night. I don't want to cry for hours over the horrific scenes I will witness. I wonder if I am to sensitive for this job. I wonder if I can last without it destroying me.
I turn to my faith, immersing myself in uplifting music and reading the bible to cleanse my mind, attend church services to uplift my soul. I hike through the woods to relax and refocus, I stare into the rushing inferno of a waterfall and the sound soothes me. I take comfort in the strong, understanding arms of my Love, knowing that he will understand and go through the same things as a police officer. I revel in the company of my friends and we share stories, fears, hopes and dreams.
I really want to do this; my desire, my drive to be the one lifting those unfortunate souls back onto their feet is ever growing. I care so much about the patients that I have not yet seen. I study into the night to learn as much as I can to become a better medic for them. I want to do this, and I will do this. I know it will be difficult, I know there will be times when I will be knocked down. I also know that I will get back up, I will continue on, and I will leave the profession on my own terms.