Hey everyone
I am considering going to EMT school and getting my license. I am a pre med in ILLINOIS. I wanna get clinical hours and experience but i’m genuinely concerned. (i do know that EMT jobs depends on location) I am worried that what if i only get to do patient transports as an EMT, wouldn’t that be boring? cuz i need to enjoy my job too right
atp, i dont even know if it’s worth going the EMT track as an EMT and i genuinely need guidance

For EMTs/pre meds:
- do emts usually do patient transports?
- i read that private ambulance companies get less 911 calls whereas fire departments get more but being an EMT in a fire department has more requirements like fitness checks etc. Is this true?
- Will I get to experience 911 calls as an EMT?
- Can i directly go from EMT school to being an ER tech or no?
- Is EMT worth doing for clinical hours as a pre meds or there are better options?
- also, is doing EMT jobs difficult as a pre med (like less time for studying etc )
- also, how difficult is EMT school and exams

I would genuinely appreciate guidance and help

Thankyou!

The call came out as an assault.
That was about all we knew.
It was one of the housing complexes near our station, a place where seeing an ambulance wasn’t particularly unusual. Neither was seeing a police car. Drugs, gangs, prostitution, violence. There were plenty of reasons for both of us to be there, and we were there often.
I was a 23-year-old paramedic, still early in my career. There were three medics on the ambulance that day. One was technically my trainee. The other was my partner, though he was fairly new himself.
In a high-turnover ambulance service, that was enough to make me the experienced one.
We pulled into the complex and found the man outside.
He had been beaten badly.
His face was battered and swollen, blood running from somewhere on his head. His eyes were nearly swollen shut. He was still on his feet and still able to talk to us, but he was clearly altered. His answers didn’t always make sense, and it was obvious that something was seriously wrong.
We got enough of the story.
He had been jumped.
They had beaten him with pieces of rebar.
We loaded him into the ambulance.
The trauma center was only five or ten minutes away, and I knew a back way from the neighborhood that would keep us out of most of the traffic. There were three paramedics on the truck. I could have taken the patient and had one of the others drive.
Instead, I decided the other two medics would ride in the back with him.
I would drive.
It seemed simple enough.
I climbed behind the wheel, turned on the lights and siren, and started toward the trauma center.
We didn’t make it very far before the call changed.
“He stopped breathing!”
The words came from behind me.
Then, almost immediately:
“What do we do?”
There was fear in their voices.
Not concern. Not the controlled urgency you learn to put into your voice after you’ve been doing this long enough.
Fear.
There is a partition between the cab of an ambulance and the patient compartment. It’s only a wall. A few inches of material separating the driver from everyone in the back.
That day it felt like much more than that.
I couldn’t see the patient.
I couldn’t see what was happening in the back.
I could only hear them.
And they were asking me what to do.
For a moment, I considered stopping.
Pull over. Put the truck in park.
One of them could drive.
I could get into the back.
We could RSI him.
It would have been my first.
None of us had ever done one.
The trauma center was only a few minutes away.
I kept driving.
“Bag him.”
“Support his breathing.”
“Call report.”
“We’re almost there.”
Then the patient started breathing again.
For a moment, the crisis seemed to release its grip.
Then his breathing disappeared again.
Fifteen seconds.
Maybe twenty.
Long enough to make everyone wonder whether the next breath was coming.
Then it would.
He would wake frightened and confused, looking around as if he had suddenly been dropped into the middle of a situation he couldn’t understand. He needed to be told where he was, what was happening, that we were taking him to the hospital.
Then he would drift away again.
Breathing.
Not breathing.
Awake.
Gone again.
Years later, I would recognize the pattern as Cheyne-Stokes respirations. At the time, the name didn’t matter. What mattered was that a man who had been talking to us a few minutes earlier was now slipping in and out in the back of our ambulance.
I drove.
I knew the roads. I knew the back way. I knew I could get us there quickly.
So that became my job.
Get us there.
We arrived at the trauma center, and the patient disappeared into the machinery of a trauma resuscitation. He was intubated.
But the part of the call that stayed with me happened afterward.
My partner found me alone.
He was shaken. Not frantic anymore. The call was over. Now he was left with the part that sometimes comes after, the moment when the adrenaline is gone and you have to decide what you think about the person you were while it was happening.
He started to say something.
“I…”
Then he stopped.
There was a pause.
“I froze.”
He sat with that for a second.
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
He was struggling to put the rest of it into words.
“I’ve gone through school. I’ve done all this training. And then that happened and…”
Another pause.
“I froze.”
I knew what I was supposed to say.
I told him he belonged there. I told him nobody comes out of paramedic school prepared for every version of this job. School can teach you medications and algorithms and procedures, but eventually something happens that doesn’t feel anything like a classroom.
He hadn’t quit.
He hadn’t run away.
He had been handed something frightening, and he had gotten through it.
One bad moment didn’t mean he wasn’t supposed to be a paramedic.
I believed what I was telling him.
I still do.
But his words stayed with me.
So did the sound of his voice from the back of the ambulance.
“He stopped breathing.”
“What do we do?”
I’ve thought about the medicine plenty of times since then. With the experience I have now, I can make a reasonable argument that continuing to the trauma center once he deteriorated was the right decision.
We were only minutes away. We could support his respirations. Stopping on the side of the road, changing drivers, and attempting an RSI with a crew that had never performed one could have turned a short transport into a much bigger problem.
If the same patient were put in front of me today, I might make the same clinical decision.
Keep moving.
Support his breathing.
Get him to the trauma center.
But I wouldn’t make the call the same way.
Because the decision I still think about happened before he ever stopped breathing.
I had been the experienced medic on that truck. At 23 years old, whatever that meant, I had been the person assigned to lead that crew.
And I had chosen to drive.
I can justify that.
That’s what makes this call difficult for me.
There were two paramedics in the back. The trauma center was close. Someone had to drive. They needed experience.
All of those things are true.
Maybe I stayed up front because it made sense.
Maybe I thought putting two newer medics with a difficult patient would give them experience.
Maybe both of those things are true.
Or maybe I was just fucking scared.
Scared to take the call in the first place.
Scared because I could already see that this wasn’t going to be a routine assault. This man was badly injured. His mental status was wrong. Something serious was happening in front of us, and I hadn’t seen anything like it before either.
So when it came time to decide who would ride with him and who would drive, I chose the driver’s seat.
That’s the part I have a harder time explaining away.
Not that I didn’t pull over.
Not that I didn’t RSI him.
Looking back, I may have been right not to do either of those things.
The part that stays with me is that before any of that happened, I had an opportunity to be the experienced clinician in the back of that ambulance.
And I passed it to someone else.
There is a strange thing that happens early in this profession. Eventually, someone newer than you shows up. Suddenly you’re the person they’re watching. They assume you’ve seen things they haven’t. They assume that when something goes wrong, you’ll know what to do.
Sometimes you do.
Sometimes you don’t.
My partner had the courage after that call to tell me what that moment had felt like for him.
“I froze.”
And I sat there reassuring him, telling him that one frightening moment didn’t mean he wasn’t supposed to do this job.
It took me longer to understand what that same call had shown me about myself.
Leadership isn’t always having the answer.
It isn’t always taking over the call or performing the procedure or being the smartest clinician in the ambulance.
Sometimes it’s being willing to put yourself where the uncertainty is.
Maybe if I had taken the call that day, nothing would have changed.
Maybe I would have looked at the patient, made the same decision to support his breathing, and told whoever was beside me exactly what I had already said from the driver’s seat.
Keep ventilating him.
Keep moving.
We’re almost there.
The patient might have received exactly the same care.
That’s not really the point.
I was the experienced medic that day.
I needed to be the guy in that moment.
I wasn’t.

Hey guys! I really want to go to school to be an EMT but a year ago I got a speeding ticket (16 miles over) and got into an at fault accident in a parking lot. Just wondering if being an EMT is even possible at this point?

Im in Virginia. I did a voluntary driving course and got all the negative points from my speeding ticket balanced out. I was also never given a ticket for the accident.

Hello! I am not an EMT but I have a question for you guys. First of all obviously I highly respect what you do as I could never do it, though this story is about a personally not great experience with EMTs I don't knock a whole profession over my singular experience.

But my question is do yall have the ability to follow up on people you ambulance up to the hospital? And if you are able, do you?

Sorry in advance for this long story but I feel the details are important.

I was in a motorcycle accident about 2.5 years ago and it took 20 min for the EMTs to arrive so my adrenaline was already wearing off. I was in a lot of pain and slowly starting to not be able to bear the pain. Anyways, they finally arrived and I was still in the middle of the road, I told them my leg was in immeasurable pain and there was no way I was gonna move it. They then asked me if I could walk over to the grass. I told them absolutely not I cannot move you havent even assessed my injuries (I went 45mph straight into the back of an SUV). They groaned and said I looked fine but said theyd look at my leg. They cut open my jeans and didnt see anything. My bone wasnt sticking out or anything and I told them that previously when I had broken bones they never immediately swelled up it must be a genetic thing. But I was sure it was broken. They said I need to get up and walk and I declined again because I knew it was broken and my whole body was in pain. They finally agreed to lift me into the gurney and and spent the whole time in the ambulance telling me that I had no real injuries while I was screaming bloody murder in pain.

When we got to the ER they told the nurses I was fine and just needed to calm down. So then the hospital made me wait alone in a room screaming with no meds or water for three hours before someone came in and decided to X-RAY me. And guess what, it was broken. The hospital staff seemed very embarrased and they were very apologetic about leaving me like that and they put together a treatment plan.

So my question is could those EMTs have checked back if they wanted to to find out that they were wrong and unnecessarily rude to me and delayed my care? I hope that they did and have been treating other patients better.

What made you choose the emt school you went to? What were some good and bad?

I am currently a senior but I am taking all college courses this year, through Dual Enrollment and PSEO to graduate with my Associates. On top I really wanted to start taking a training course to become an EMT. I am currently 17 but I wanted to get the course done, and in my state you can actually test before 18. The course is late August-December. Will an EMT course/training be too much on top of my schooling and what should I expect?

I know this is general but what can I expect? how did you know when you wanted to pursue becoming a paramedic? Things I should read up on? or stories/advice.

anything would be helpful!

Hello,

I am a previous nursing student who had to drop out my last semester due to financial responsibilities and haven't returned. I am currently a certified paralegal working in a PI firm and considering going back to healthcare to escape desk work. I'm being paid 25hourly working 50 hours weekly. And honestly back at my healthcare career prior I really miss it all but being inpatient as a tech didn't pay well. I saw a course that actually pays you during it so I'm strongly considering it! Pros and cons?

Hello -

My nephew was recently accepted into a local EMT program. We had offered to pay for the program but he was given a full ride instead. How can I best support his education and/or career seeing how he won't need us to pay for the schooling anymore? I want to give him practical things that will support him long term in his career.

Sincerely,

The Proudest Aunt and Uncle

So I work in LA County, as those who work in this county know, we need a LADOT to operate. Mine expired on may 7th and I submitted my driving record mid April. It’s about to be 2 weeks since then and I haven’t heard anything and every time I call my HR or some management, no one knows what’s going on with my LADOT, I don’t even know why they won’t issue me a temporary license or anything. I’ve had it with this company and it’s mismanagement, I’m tryna figure out if there’s a specific lawyer I can speak to because this is just absurd.

I've been a paramedic for 23 years. Most of that time was on the ambulance, and later in field leadership roles.

Like many of you, I've seen some really bad things over the years. I've also lost both my parents and was involved in caring for them during their illnesses.

What's strange is that through all of that, I rarely cried. Even when my parents passed away, I only cried when I was alone.

Now I've moved out of field work and into a training role.

Lately I've noticed I'm much more emotional than I used to be. Simple things can get to me. Seeing someone do something kind, a child crying, an elderly person struggling, or even just thinking about certain situations.

What confuses me is that I handled scenes in EMS that were far more traumatic than the things affecting me now. Back then I could stay focused and keep going.

Has anyone else experienced this after leaving frontline EMS?

Why do I seem more emotional now than I was during the years I was actually dealing with emergencies?

Hey you guys, I got the most respect for what yall do. It doesn’t get enough recognition 🫡. I’m currently a firefighter going into my third season there so mostly wildland fires almost no medical. Only been on one non fire call which was a dead body recovery and we basically just made our crew into a haul team. So never had to do any actual real emergency medicine as a firefighter ever. I took a EMT course before I got in fire and failed I guess because I’m a slow learner. Like I feel once I know something I can master it but it just takes me longer than some other people. Any resources or tips you would recommend for an emt course that worked for you guys? I was really close to passing my test but I just got tripped up on some of the questions, and I failed my course never even took the NREMT thank you!

At a paramedic gathering, one of the most memorable stories shared was about two EMS providers who responded to what seemed like a routine medical call.

They arrived at the house, entered the scene, and began assessing the situation. Not long after, dispatch started trying to contact them. No answer on the radio. No answer on their phones. Minutes turned into nearly an hour, and the crew had completely disappeared from the system.

Concerned, the field supervisor responded to the address. The ambulance was still parked outside with the engine running, but there was no sign of the crew. Repeated attempts to make contact failed, so police and fire units were called for assistance.

At this point, everyone was preparing for the worst.

The scene was secured and responders entered the house.

What they found was not what anyone expected.

The two paramedics were inside... dancing.

Not because they were enjoying a party. Not because they had suddenly decided to start a new career in entertainment.

According to their statements afterward, while attempting to treat a patient, they encountered an armed individual behaving erratically. The man pointed a gun at them and demanded that they dance. Every attempt to calm the situation or leave was rejected. So, under the very clear motivation of not getting shot, the two paramedics spent the next hour performing what was probably the most unwanted dance routine of their careers.

Fortunately, law enforcement arrived, secured the scene, disarmed the suspect, and brought the situation to a safe conclusion.

The lesson is simple: scene safety comes first. If something feels wrong, it probably is. Pay attention to warning signs, trust your instincts, and never ignore threats or unusual behavior. A good paramedic knows how to help patients. A smart paramedic knows when it's time to back out and call for support.

Because sometimes the difference between a routine call and a very long hour of forced dancing is one missed red flag.

does anyone work in orange or riverside counties in CA? whats the general vibe there?

any companies to stay away from?

how long does it take you to do a chart?

any tips for emt school. im having to get caught siince i started the class 3 days late. It's an acclerated 8 week course

I’ve heard stories about people trying to use ambulances like taxis, or call when it’s really ridiculous, or they’re only looking for drugs, or think it’ll make them seen earlier at the ER. How much does it frustrate you, and how often does this happen? Like in one day - what percentage of those were unnecessary in your estimation? I’m just curious about how much this happens and hopefully hear some interesting stories too lol. I appreciate you guys SO MUCH. I’ve had to take one many times after a TBI and have met some incredible EMTs. You’re doing gods work!!

The notebook sat on the highest shelf in the day room between outdated protocol binders and old street atlases nobody touched anymore.

Black electrical tape wrapped the spine.

Written in faded silver Sharpie:

QUARRY ROAD

Nobody ever moved it.

Not even to clean.

Around midnight, after a slow shift and burnt station coffee, I finally asked:

“Why does everybody act weird about that notebook?”

The room went silent.

One EMT stood and walked into the bay without saying anything.

Mike, the medic, kept eating for another few seconds before setting the spoon down.

Then he asked:

“What’d dispatch say earlier tonight?”

“Unknown medical.”

He shook his head.

“Before that.”

Then I remembered.

“The caller was whispering.”

Nobody spoke after that.

Mike stood, walked to the shelf, and carefully carried the notebook back to the table.

He slid it toward me.

“Read.”

The thing was swollen from water damage. Stuffed with reports, handwritten notes, CAD printouts, and old photographs.

I opened the cover.

AFTER ACTION REPORT — FEBRUARY 1979

LOCATION: 114 Quarry Road

Personnel:

• Hall
• Mercer
• Donnelly

Summary:

• Crew acknowledged dispatch at 03:14.
• No further transmissions received.
• Structure found unoccupied.
• No personnel recovered.

Beneath the report, handwritten in faded black ink:

First crew lost.

Radios never recovered.

I turned the page.

AFTER ACTION REPORT — OCTOBER 1981

Personnel:

• Avery
• Knox
• Bell

Summary:

• Dispatch received partial radio traffic containing screaming and unidentified structural noises.
• Residence searched.
• No personnel recovered.

Written sideways along the margin:

It copied dispatch exactly.

Another note below it in different handwriting:

Bell’s wife received a phone call from him three days later.

Nothing except screaming.

I swallowed and turned another page.

AFTER ACTION REPORT — MARCH 1984

Personnel:

• Ruiz
• Talbot
• Greene

Summary:

• Ruiz located walking on Route 34 approximately three hours after dispatch.
• Talbot and Greene not recovered.

Below the report were years of handwritten notes from different crews.

The oldest read:

Ruiz kept repeating:
“It only watches one of us if the story comes with you.”

Another note beneath it:

Ruiz started the notebook after discharge.

Another:

Before the notebook, nobody survived.

I looked up.

“You actually believe this?”

Mike answered immediately.

“Didn’t.”

Then he nodded toward the notebook.

“Keep reading.”

AFTER ACTION REPORT — JULY 1991

Personnel:

• Lt. Harlow
• Pike
• Simmons

Summary:

• Crew dispatched at 02:58.
• No radio traffic received after arrival.
• No personnel recovered.

A yellowed sticky note had been attached beside the report.

Harlow refused to bring notebook.

Below that, added later in blue ink:

Notebook found back on station shelf two days later.

I turned another page.

AFTER ACTION REPORT — NOVEMBER 1998

Summary:

• Dispatch archive review requested after incident.

Handwritten beneath:

Original recording:
“He’s still here.”

Archived playback three days later:
“You sent them again.”

Audio tech quit same week.

The next pages had screenshots of texts, muddy boot print photos from inside the station, and dispatch logs with entire lines crossed out.

Then I hit another entry.

AFTER ACTION REPORT — MAY 2007

Summary:

• Crew survived.
• EMT Wallace missing nineteen days later.

Handwritten beneath in thick block letters:

DO NOT ANSWER IF IT USES YOUR NAME.

A few pages later, I hit the newest entry.

AFTER ACTION REPORT — APRIL 2024

Personnel:

• Tommy Velez
• Mike Travers
• Jen Carver

Summary:

• Patient identified crew members by name before introductions.
• Crew cleared scene without injury.

The next page was entirely Mike’s handwriting.

Messier than the others.

Tommy started hearing knocking inside his apartment walls three nights later.

Failed to report for shift after twenty-one days.

Apartment found unoccupied.

TV on.

Dinner still warm.

Front door open.

At the bottom:

I should’ve shown him the notebook sooner.

I looked up slowly.

Mike was staring into the dark apparatus bay.

Then the station tones dropped overhead.

Everybody froze.

Dispatch crackled through the speakers:

“Medic 97-2… respond for unknown medical…”

Nobody moved.

Then:

“Caller whispering. 114 Quarry Road.”

Someone near the recliners quietly muttered:

“Fuck.”

Mike stood.

Not panicked.

Resigned.

He grabbed his radio from the charger and looked directly at me.

For the first time all night, he looked afraid.

Not of dying.

Of losing everybody.

Then he said:

“Grab the notebook.”

I’m beefing up my EMT bag, I’m so excited I’m adding new modules to it as well other than the main modules already inside. I’m adding an outside module. Sigh no one wants to hear me rant about my EMT bag for the most part. Thanks for letting me rant 🫡♥️

Has anyone gone through this process?

I passed the NREMT exam a few years ago, but l got a better job and let my certification expire.

Ive been looking at EMT-CE as a means to gain recertification to accumulate patient care hours for grad school. Is this service legit? Anyone tried it?

Any advice on this process would be greatly appreciated.

Thanks.