I'm finishing up my weekend and heading back into my run of shifts, and the familiar nerves are back. Ever since I was around 10 y/o, I looked at paramedics in awe in the hope that one day I would be one. Now, it's hard to believe that I am the person who shows up when somebody calls 911. I wonder if the poor bugger who sees me walk through the door sees my nerves and inexperience, or if they see confidence and the uniform. I know what I see when I look in the mirror.
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