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WORDS OF FIREFIGHTERS - 35 -SURVIVING CANCER

My story is about myself, and how my dreams are becoming harder and harder to obtain. I have dreamt of becoming a firefighter for as long as I can remember. I was diagnosed with cancer at 18, overcame it a year later. Every firefighter has their own personal battles and here is mine.

After my short bout with cancer (very mild, wasn’t a big deal at all) I still felt very ill. I joined my local fire department as a volunteer anyway. Shortly after I was able to join the fire academy and start my training in certification to be an interior certified firefighter in New York State . I went though the entire vigorous academy thinking that it was just Endometreosis that was killing me slowly, not knowing that in a few months I would get a diagnosis that would turn my whole world upside down.

During my time at the fire academy, I had tried my best to hide the physical pain and agony that I was experiencing at every turn that was killing my performance. Earlier this year, long before my surgery, I went though a military style fire academy (my life long dream was to be a paid firefighter) and being one of the only females in this environment was hard enough, but going through pain and thinking that it was just Endo while I drank coffee, ate pizza, Burger king, etc. and then putting on 100+ pounds of gear and doing pushups for 5 hours at a time being 100 lbs myself didn’t help the situation. I was ridiculed by both my teammates and the instructors. The instructors are very prominent firefighters and captains in my area and they would shake their heads at me, and eventually pulled me aside and asked me if I should really be there, maybe I should just rethink being a firefighter, when it was the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do with my life. They wanted me to quit even though they were all talking about kicking me out. I ended up passing the practical exam perfectly and achieving a B+ on my written final exam. It has been one of the greatest achievements in my life, even more so now since I now know what has been ailing me for so many years.

Despite my health, I went on to enroll in an EMT basic class soon after graduation from the fire academy. I had that surgery that will live in infamy with me smack dab in the middle of my expedited 3 month medical course. We happened to have a week off of class that last week of June for up coming 4th of July celebrations. My surgery was scheduled that Monday, and the following Monday I was back in class. I was also labeled in that class as well. It was obvious that I was ill, with all the limping and the taking things slowly and only drinking water, but I did my best not to complain and burden others with my problems being that I was already a burden on those I love at home and my new, 1 year old marriage. It was in this class that it really hit me that no one wants to be around someone they cant understand. As time for practicals and finals came around, I had to go get a physical that was mandatory in order to prove physical fitness and metal awareness and free of most physical and mental impairment.

My diagnosis with IC helped get me on the right track as far as taking the correct medications, eating the right stuff, but not socially. The IC further alienated people from me. My so called friends, the guys in my fire dept and most family didn't seek to understand. My life is in ruins because of this disease in more ways than most people can fathom. My only dreams have been ripped out from underneath me and have become a near impossibility. Do you really think that anyone is going to hire a firefighter/EMT who has to pee every hour, takes 22 pills a day, has severe diet restrictions, takes medications that has side effects of respiratory depression when breathing in a fire in a small mask is part of that every day job? Realistically not. I have been a volunteer firefighter for one year now, but my response to calls has dwindled severely in the past few months. Of course the guys at the fire dept think that I just “complain too much” or “can’t handle it so why am I there” or “should just quit and go on disability and quit bothering them.” Why should I lay down and let my dreams die?

I have just taken a civil service test about 2 weeks ago to be a 911 dispatcher and I am keeping my fingers crossed and hoping that I get this job. It may be the last shot I have at having any kind of life resembling what I dreamed of doing at this age. All I want is to help people who are having the worst day of their lives in ways that no one helped me when I was having, and continue to have, the worst days of mine. I want to be there for people that are as alone as I’ve felt, to give them the comfort I’ve never known, the comfort that I’ve never had. A dream that was so attainable a few years back is now so far out of reach and founding a new kind of hopelessness that I’ve never known.