While I was a paramedic, I was also an EMS instructor and coordinator, so I received several offers for jobs, some of which paid quite well, but came with a few quirks. One job that several paramedics took was working on off-shore oil rigs. The job paid very well, but the contracts were for six months at a time, in which the entire six months would be spent on the oil rig. I knew several paramedics who had done that and it was a good way to save up some money because the pay was much better than they'd receive in a ground ambulance job, most expenses were paid, and there wasn't a lot to spend the money on. I considered applying for one of these as that was the thing for a while, but decided not to. Another was as director of the EMS service covering the town of Presidio, Texas, a border town just west of Big Bend National Park. I drove out there to interview for the job and it was offered to me. The pay was slightly better than I was getting, but not terrific. I don’t know if any of you have ever been to Presidio. When I was there, is seemed like a sad little town of about four or five thousand people in southwest Texas, across from Ojinaga, Chihuahua, Mexico. Presidio was frequently named as the hottest place in the nation. Presidio is a very old town, although it wasn’t incorporated until 1930. Pancho Villa’s headquarters were just across the border, and he visited the town often. The John Wayne movie, “Rio Bravo,” featured Presidio, as John Wayne plays Sheriff John T. Chance, the sheriff of Presidio County. I was tempted to take the job because, if nothing else, it would have been interesting. The woman who I would have been replacing as director told me that one of the town’s chief industries was moving drugs across the border. This was before helicopter transports were commonplace, and Presidio had no hospital. The nearest hospital was a four-hour transport by ground ambulance, so my skills as a paramedic would be challenged, given that many paramedics work in areas where they are only a few minutes from a hospital. There was a small town near Presidio, but in the area that the ambulance service would be covering; I don't remember the name and can't find it on a map right now, but it was six miles from the nearest road that could be traveled by an ambulance. The EMS service had an ATV with a trailer on the back that they used if they had to transport someone out of that town. We took a ride out there on an ATV and it’s hard to imagine people living with as little as these people had. There was no electricity and no utilities of any kind. Yet, they chose to live there and there has to be something interesting about people who would live in a place like that. In the end, I wasn’t sure that I was up to the challenge, since they wanted a two-year contract. Another opportunity that I was offered, and passed up, was a two-year contract in Saudi Arabia. The money was terrific and, like the oil rigs, nearly all of my expenses would be paid. I applied and was accepted. They sent a large glossy packet explaining the job. I would be working in a large hospital complex, one that was basically a self-contained town, with stores, restaurants, movie theaters, etc. Apart from working shifts as a paramedic, I would be training English-speaking Arabs as EMTs and paramedics. I would be able to leave the campus whenever I wasn’t at work, but they didn’t recommend that anyone leave the campus alone. Female medics and nurses accepting a job offer would have to wear a hijab when off campus. They would pay for one vacation trip back to the United States each year, but the contract would be for two years. This was before the current Islamic scares, but I still decided against it.
@Ken Anderson What experiences you have had! And, I thought hardly anyone else had gone around the block more times than I! Goitta hand it to you, you win! Compared to your exposure, mine was pretty mundane. Worst thing encountered was a murder-suicide; you may have encountered a number of those, in comparison. Don't tell us, though! A funny: My Dad suffered a hernia at work, when I was maybe 10. He labored along, encumbered daily by a "truss", a rather involved suspensory device designed to prevent emergence of the internals through the rend in the Peritoneum. His kid brother, my Uncle Jim, whom I loved more than he knew, implored my Dad to get it fixed. He had suffered a "double-rupture" animalling radiators up the stairs in the house he built. He got them fixed, and thus pushed my Dad to relent. Finally, by then I was 16, he relented and entered the hospital for repair, his first time so incarcerated in his life, at 56. I had my D.L. and brought my Mother to visit. I think he was in the hospital about 3 days. The ordeal was of course far milder than he expected, the worst he could complain about was being unable to shave! He came home espousing the belief he should have gotten "fixed" years earlier. The topic became a joke over the years. Then, surfacing at an opportune time, my buddy Ron & I, walking from my house to the main drag, undoubtedly to buy some hardware for a high-voltage transformer we were building, trudged through about a foot of snow, and encountered an unfortunate whose car was stuck. He asked us to help push him free. Ron replied without a moment's hesitation, "I can't help you, buddy, I've got a ruptured gut"! We walked on, snickering inwardly. The unfortunate's reaction was a classic wonder: he BOUGHT it! Frank
Back in the 70's I was stationed on a small, very small, island in the Aleutian Island chain. It was a one year tour and with the weather and isolation, must of us were happy when our tour was up. A few years back, I saw an ad on a trade site for an HVAC person for that Island. Contract work to operate the Boiler/Chiller system. I contacted them and was almost ready to go. Pay was very good, the living accommodations nice, but in the end, I think all the memories of the island flooded back. Another thought was that I had been separated from my family a great deal during my military years and even though the kids are grown and the wife can handle me being gone, just figured enough was enough. Now if that Island was located on the equator, that might have been another story.
That job in the oil rig is like working overseas. You stay in the rig for 6 months straight and the pay is high and you have less expenses for you are like a prisoner there. Filipino overseas workers are saying that they are paid high more for their isolation (from their families) than for the work they render. My husband was once offered a job in New Guinea as an IT personnel. The salary was more than 3 times than what he was earning. But the thought of being away for 2 years, we both agreed not to grab that opportunity. And we are right. At least we have spent the years together, living our life, enjoying every bit of it. Money is not everything there is.