"Warring Ideals in One Dark Body"

"The flogging never ends!"

I told y'all that train is never late.

Meet Sarge: Skull n' Crossbones with the ice-blue eyes.
She wrote our curriculum.
She lifts 200 lb patients and works for a local fire department from time to time.
She is a big ol' dyke who knows her stuff and had straight boys jumping scared. She seemed quite delighted to crawl up their asses and chew.

When I asked, Instructor Crash said, "Sarge is...so cooool." He said it just like that, like we were talking about a bona fide Jedi Knight, I shit you not. His eyes got shiny and everything. I thought, This mother fucker's having a mystical experience right before my eyes. Why...he's got a little ol' professional crush on her, sure as shit sticks to a blanket. He totally deferred to her. They don't make it that good on TV, I swear. I could have watched her all night--fierce and firm. Precise and to the numbers. Not afraid to ask for help and not afraid to tell the biggest, most smug guy in the room, "Absolutely not! DO NOT MOVE! Not unless I'm standing right there!" and command the entire room with her voice and then be like, "What's wrong? Why are you so tense? Do I make you nervous?"
"You got 'em scared, Sarge?"
"The flogging NEVER ends!"

She's got a brotha ready to sit and take notes, I swear. About EMS too, sure, sure.

Later while we practice inserting nasopharyngeal airways (NPAs) she says, almost to herself, "I'm glad none of you have asked me the lube question. I had a guy once ask me, 'Is it real lube?'"
I say to Soldier Girl under my breath, "I don't even know what that question means." She agrees.
So does Sarge. "I didn't know what he meant either. 'It's shiny? It's wet?'"
I quip, "What's 'real'? 'We all spit in a jar for you?'"
"'And packaged it up?'"
Then Radical Midwife chirps, "So what is the advantage of lube over something els... actually...I can answer that one myself..."

Then they broke us into four person squads and mine nominated me squad leader. By default. No one else wanted to. And then they said it suited me.

All Squad Leader means is that I make sure everyone in the squad gets a turn running calls and fill in if someone isn't there. I imagine the other members of Squad 4 are picking up on a certain stance that came with years of working security in a uniform very much like the one I wear to school. It's the swagger one can develop when one knows they can summon an entire police department in a few seconds. It's the projection of confidence that comes for many of us with having been around the block a few times. I'll do my best by them though. They all are in their early to mid-twenties. They're all already pretty good and improving. Lil' Doc will monitor our morale. Quiet type and a little fresh-faced. Adorable actually. He already bought his stethoscope. Soldier Girl is in charge of making sure we're keeping up with homework. She studies during breaks. Very methodical. We got some good practice in with gurneys too. Nu Ma Medic carries the Equipment Bag. If Sarge or McDreamy or Crash do a spot check and it isn't right, they dump it on the floor, and we get to pack it again. I'm not worried. I have a new mom on the job, and I haven't met one yet that didn't have a secure grasp on the contents of their bag for diapers and things. So all around I feel like Squad 4 is in good hands.

Not every squad was so lucky. Today the class got the mass "shoes vs. boots" talk to avoid singling anybody out, which is super-kind of them, because they are empowered to send you home if you're not in uniform. We're supposed to be in over-the-ankle black boots. It's been over a week of hints and direct confrontation to 2 guys. One, Quiet Guy, is otherwise clean-cut and might do okay. The other one, Nails, has patchy stubble and an unruly mane of Harry Potter hair. And Adidas--disgusting, beat up, old Adidas. And different ideas about hygiene than do the rest of us.

I mean...huh. Ahem. Sigh.

Regardless of if someone were just getting the certification for med/nursing school applications or if they wanted to go on to Paramedic School or to the Fire Department--who do you want showing up to pick your mom up off the floor? Who do you want treating them at the hospital? Who do you want giving them oxygen? The guy who can't be bothered with the rules? The gal who shows up with her shirt untucked, smacking gum, in Vans? Maybe the dude with mossy, green teeth and dirty fingernails, because it's so faith inspiring. I'm not saying those things are mutually exclusive with good skills--not at all--but it would seem to suggest an inattention to detail that when talking about open wounds, blowing your exhaled air into someone, and sticking your fingers in people's orifices is, at best, gross and at worst a source of possible infection, even with gloves on. If he won't adhere to rules as basic as footwear and wash your ass, what other rules are negotiable? That's how people view it, and I'm with them. I'm not talking about skipping a shower or maybe not having time to iron your shirt--I'm talking about things that reflect poorly on allied health and can make people very sick or kill them.

Now if Nails were properly contrite, that might be one thing. Hell, boots can be expensive, even at Target. But at break, I got the pleasure of overhearing this asinine conversation.

After Sarge's finger-wagging, I sat with Sweet Boy, Lil' Doc, Strong Girl, Nails, and Quiet Guy wolfing dinner (a bag of peanuts). Nails was already having a bad night, because Sarge threatened to take away his cell phone. (He apologized to her for that, but not his grungy shoes that I swear could get up and walk away by themselves.) And then he got his bitch on.

"I just don't understand what the cutoff is...I mean what's a boot? This is my boot," he said to everyone, caressing the dirty white stripes.
"Over-the-ankle," I say. This was all spelled out several times in recruitment and orientation, so he's got no traction to me.
"These are over-the-ankle." he says, even though clearly they aren't.
Strong girl, trying to be helpful says, "You can get a nice pair of Steel Toes for not that much..."
He interrupts to say, "These are my steel toes. My toes are made of steel. I don't need boots."
Strong Girl appears to suppress a Strong Urge to go upside his head. "Well, you're special," she snaps.
Sweet Boy gestured with his fork, "If a gurney runs over your foot in those..."
"I'm like, so cool. These guys love me. I don't need boots."

Yeah, Nails is getting ready to get his ass hammered on real bad if he does not shape up and square away that attitude. I feel badly for him in a way, even though I don't understand. I'd help him if I could, because I see trouble ahead for him, and he could make a good medic. Hate for anybody to get cut because of something as stupid as this, but there's something deeper-seated happening with his oppositional nature, and if he's gonna get clipped, it needs to be now while he can still shape up or get a partial refund. I might see who his Squad Leader is to see if we can all pool a few dollars if it's monetary issue. All My Brethren, I swear...