EMT training needs a rescue

EMT. Emergency. Medical. Technician.

You can just see yourself wearing that cool navy blue uniform, riding the ambulance, sirens screaming …

Those ubiquitous side-of-theroad signs actually have you thinking …

Why not?

Why not me?

What should I do?

What should I do first? First? Congrats, you’re already speaking “EMT”!

Apply online to your local fire station. Pray they like you, offer you membership, pay your tuition. Until then, you (a “probie”) must attend monthly company meetings, requisite drills, statemandated lectures.

Go on a few ambulance ridealongs. Volunteer to flip pancakes, sell Christmas trees, give blood.

In addition to the above you are background checked, interrogated by the EMT captain, photographed. You receive a free “T,” free physical, and once classes start a free 1,580 page textbook, “EMERGENCY: Care and Transportation of the Sick and Injured.” Which your instructor mentions will be covered coverto-cover. Attendance will be taken, you are warned, and should you drop out there will be payback.

The class in which you’re enrolled is either a 10-week (accelerated) or the usual 15-week course. Classes — a combo of (mostly) lecture/demonstration — are held three times per week, four hours a pop.

More or less.

Course purpose, your syllabus reads, is to equip future firstresponders with just enough knowledge to pass the NREMT (National Registry of Emergency Medical Technicians) cognitive with at least a 70 percent. Just enough know-how to ace five state “Practicals.” The latter being five staged mini-dramas that attempt to mimic real life medical/trauma emergencies.

To that end you spend most every Saturday splinting, bandaging, sorting, suctioning, shocking, palpating, compressing, ventilating, pulling, pushing, lifting, lugging, immobilizing basically man-handling rock hard dummies (or fellow classmates) on the usually moist garage floor in close proximity to potentially lethal stuff including

but not limited to fire trucks.

As the course progresses you realize the sheer volume of material (Airway, Respiration, Cardiology, Obstetrics, Trauma, Medical, Ambulance), the mindboggling medical (Greek/Latin) terminology, the skill sets that require not just muscle but muscle memory prompt you to ask the following: Am I circling the drain?

The course finally comes to a close and, though you don’t receive a grade, you do receive a certificate stating you successfully completed a stateapproved EMT course.

Therefore, expect no problem passing the aforementioned

NREMT cognitive and five state practicals.

Not necessarily.

Not necessarily, because like everything else some courses are better than others and how were you supposed to know this?

What if you inadvertently landed in one of the lesser ones?

You also realize that maybe your instructor wasn’t so hot. Some are better than others, right? Let’s assume, however, you’re well prepared and should have no worries moving forward.

Not exactly.

The NREMT Cognitive is a CAT (Computer Adaptive Test). There is no other format. No written version. The learning disabled, however, can elect to take the test verbally or at home.

Most recent statistics show that only 63 percent of Connecticut test-takers passed the first time, 73 percent the third time. After three failures one must enroll in a refresher. These courses will cost you (refresher runs about $1,000). The cost of each take/retake is $98 payable in advance/no refunds.

The state practicals are equally maddening. You will probably fail at least one. There is no impartial observer, along with the examiner, to ensure fairness.

You are tempted at this point to call it quits.

Because prepping to retake a Practical is not for the faint of heart.

There is the cost of retraining (from $150-200 per hour) plus the cost ($60-120.) of the redo. Not to mention time. The time needed to rehearse the (now) dogeared “script” another hundred times and where did you screw up in the first place? You’re not told. HARTFORD, WE HAVE A PROBLEM.

We tolerate a motley assemblage of courses that are glaringly dissimilar in methodology, content, emphasis, grading, testing and most importantly, instructor commitment.

We tolerate systemically nonsensical, cost prohibitive testing.

We tolerate a suspicious “remedial appendage” that’s not only confusingly costly but enables teacher/tester/tutor/ trainer to overstep.

In short, Connecticut does not guarantee a level playing field to all. The road to license is unduly harsh, cost prohibitive, long-winded, causing a potential supply of new blood to seek relief at the nearest exit.

Our state is suffering a dangerous shortage of first-responders.

Think on this. We grab our phones, dial 911, when the occasion warrants it.

Just imagine …

Calling 911 and nobody comes?

The road to license is unduly harsh, cost prohibitive, long-winded, causing a potential supply of new blood to seek relief at the nearest exit.

File photo An ambulance in Connecticut recently.