My heart still skips a beat at the thought of freshly sharpened pencils and lots of new faces. It’s not just me that thinks that, right?
Tonight, my hands are stained with grease, my clothes are littered with dust, and my hair is a frizzy mess. Underneath these dirty nails and wet boots, my wild heart beats proudly.
“If he can do it, so can I” never held much meaning for me growing up. So it wasn’t until I found myself in the back of ambulance, listening to the conversation with our patient, that the impact of those words hit me.
The members of Plymouth Vol. Fire Department are now the proud owners of a shiny, 1991 Spartan Tanker.
Tonight marks the last module exam of EMT Class. We’ll never take one again.
The next test we see in class will have 100 questions over 39 chapters, and will decide whether or not we can pursue National certification.
Clamoring. Excitement. That’s what filled the apparatus bay as a dozen Explorers scrambled into their bunker gear.
Ya know, if I didn’t trust my classmates yet, tonight could’ve been a lot more nerve wracking. But I did. After 4 months of grabbing belt loops, tying tourniquets, and lamenting test scores together, this hardly seemed scary.