16 October 2008

Insomnia 02:37am

My neck has been extremely sore for the past six days. A few of those days were down right miserable. I skipped one ride shift and one day of work at the ambulance company in hope that I would be feeling better for my next regular shift at the firehouse. Tonight I tried to get some sleep at the station, and I was again unsuccessful. I cannot find a position which does not bother my neck. Couple this recent problem with my predisposition to insomnia at work, the rock like bed I have to sleep on, the fire & ems radios blaring throughout the firehouse, and the extremes of temperature people set the thermostat, it is a wonder that I ever sleep at work.

I might have to cancel on tomorrow's ride time also. I made a personal commitment that I would not go to work (at my part-time jobs) if I got less than four hours of sleep. Since most of my jobs are on a ambulance, this makes sense. I would not want anyone working on me if they have less than four hours of sleep. I have around 143 hours to complete for ride time. If I do not go tomorrow, I will not be finished until the end of November. I really want all of this paramedic crap to be finished. In my sleep deprived state, I wonder why am I continuing this torture? Why can't I just quit paramedic, walk away and be happy? The only thing worth while is I might get a $5/hr raise at a part time job. I gain nothing at my full time job. Some days I feel like I have wasted two years.

Maybe it has not been a waste of time, I won't know until I make attempts at the test. I am just being selfish. I want more time to do the things I enjoy, like seeing my wife, walking my dogs, playing games, sleeping at home (the only place I get sleep), photography, amature radio, drumming (good grief I have too many hobbies), hiking, climbing/rappelling and anything else that tickles my fancy (not to mention flying).

1 comment:

Amanda said...

You are too good to walk away. You deserve your numbers!! Never forget how proud I am of you.
Love your beloved dog's mom