Available for Hire

This entry is going to be a little different than the last one; instead of talking about the trip I want to share some thoughts about the time leading up to New Zealand. Some of the subject matter is a bit grim so if reading about death puts you off feel free to skip it.

During Christmas 2021 I was faced with the preciousness of life when a friend of mine was diagnosed with cancer. Thinking about my own finite amount of time I saw an opportunity to avoid squandering my life by leaving an unfulfilling job. I had the same job for years and I was finally gaining leadership within a company and I was ready to leave that behind me even though I didn’t know what to do next. Initially I followed my interests and thought about how I’d always wanted to work as ski patrol. So shortly after I quit steel stud framing I took a first responders course and promptly began working as a medic.

My first new job took place at a half marathon. I treated people experiencing diabetic episodes, panic attacks, and muscle strains. Then I worked at a music festival with a team of paramedics and doctors. Essentially my job at the festival was to watch out for over-intoxication, overdoses, and to provide a safe space for people going through it.

Coinciding I volunteered with a group that does late night strolls through the lower east side of downtown Vancouver in order to offer resources on foot. Each night started with an hour of food prep and planning. After enough sandwiches were put together we’d load satchels and backpacks with medical equipment, food, and water. The first night I went out I was the only newcomer in a group of twelve or so. One of the more experienced team leaders mentored me through that night. We recapped how to administer naloxone and do CPR. While we walked through through the alleys she pointed out all the quiet spots where people might be hiding. As a group we handed out food and snacks until our backpacks were empty. On our return to the office we came across a man laying in the street. One arm was under his stomach and the other was bent across his back. Carefully we woke him up and straightened him out. We held each of his arms as he stood up. Someone in the group called the nearby shelters, there was only one with a bed available so we walked him to it and then finished our return. After we unloaded our bags I cycled home through Vancouver with a new set of eyes.

A week later, on the second night I went out with the organization, there were only three of us. During some parts of our walk it felt easier to talk to the people we were giving food to than the guys I was volunteering with. They weren’t unfriendly, it just felt hard to make small talk. We walked for four hours, checking on people and having chats with strangers. We handed out all of our food, some medical supplies, and treated a couple cuts. At the end of the night when we were three blocks from the office we came across a quiet stairwell; it was one of those hiding spots because there was a large landing at the top and you couldn’t see all of it from the street level. We had passed it once before at the start of the night. There were maybe six guys hanging out in it then. One of the guys in our group had a bad gut feeling so he took a look to see if anyone had moved in at the top of the stoop. To our surprise someone was there. He was shirtless and contorted in a familiar way. We tried to wake him but he wouldn’t budge so we moved his limbs and checked for a heart beat. There wasn’t one. We started CPR and called 9-1-1. Four paramedics showed up within minutes and they took over. After they finished doing all they could one of them pulled us aside to thank us for calling it in, but unfortunately a resuscitation couldn’t be made.

I talked to a counsellor the next day as a precaution. I felt like I understood what happened so the meeting was just a formality to me. The truth is I ruminated on all the things I could’ve done differently – but as time passes I’m starting to forget what they were. I did one more walk with the group the next week. By this time I had been hired to work as a bartender at a busy restaurant, I used this as an excuse to stop doing the late night walks. I didn’t want to give up on emergency medicine but I think the break was healthy. I would ride my bike home from the restaurant every night with my eyes peeled. Sometimes I’d pass a person sleeping on the side walk and I’d slow down just so I could see their chest rise and fall: that they had breath.

I continued bartending until we left for NZ. It was fun and fast paced and I got to work with some sweet people. It was a bucket list item so I was glad that I got a chance to try it but by the time it was coming to an end I was ready to move on.

Over the seven months, after initially quitting my career, I got to dip my toes into a few different jobs but none of them struck me as my next move. The pressure that I felt when I graduated high school to have things “figured out” lingers but I let that feeling pass so that I can think a little clearer. I’ve learned that I can find some fulfillment in doing work that helps other people and that I enjoy working in a high energy environment. Even milking buffaloes had that thrill I was looking for, if only it wasn’t so solitary. While we’re travelling in New Zealand I have my eyes set on working in a surf shop or maybe on a ski hill as a medic again. I’ve heard that sailing teams hire people to join them as extra muscle for races. I’m open to new things and exploring for a while longer.