Thursday, December 20, 2007
How Does Santa Do That?
Max: You got us LOST!
Me: I DID NOT! YOU are the one driving!
Max: Excuse me, but WHO has the list?
Me: YOU read off the addresses, I just wrote them down!
Max: Oh for the love of... #$*(/$
Max and I are on a mission, we are playing Santa Claus for the County and this is the umpteenth time we have played the Where In the Hell are We? game today. Max is a cop and we are in his patrol Blazer out delivering toys around the area. We make a good team, his attitude is much like Chris's in that he has no problem whatsoever dishing it out and can bicker with me all day long.
Now Santas we are not.Twice we dispursed the wrong toys to the wrong kids and had to ask for them back, we lost a bicycle somehow and never did find it(another unit had picked it up by mistake). Max offered to give me away as a bonus gift and threatened to shoot a rather problematic and irritating Elmo doll who was chattering at us with each pothole and bump we hit. Somehow I know this is something that has never occurred up at the North Pole.
So on a cold Saturday for ten hours we criss crossed the area making our deliveries, eating McDonalds food and squabbling like an old married couple. How Santa does his job so neatly and efficiently is beyond us. Even with lists, GPS and a dispatcher we still got lost and confused. We are also curious to know just why Santa would even consider doing this year after year, and cover not just our county, but the whole world too. Santa truely must be magic.
However Santa does it, here is hoping that he is good to all of you out there this holiday season. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Rox
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Eating Well
I have to admit that I don't really mind having to work at the Fire Stations around here. Don't think I have ever spent time in a station where they did not feed me and feed me WELL. Supper the other night was a Teriyaki marinaded roast done on a BBQ, steamed asparagus, and mushroom herb couscous. Damn good stuff. I always feel honored when they pull up a seat for me at the table, when you work around FIRE everyone is pretty much family. Here, sit, eat and BS with us. You really can't find better company anywhere, or better stories. So thanks guys for always looking out for me and considering me part of your family even if I do occasionally lose hair clips out in the big Engine...
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Yes and No
People love to ask questions about what I do. The one asked most though is "How can you stand to do that job? Doesn't it get to you?" Well, Yes and No.
I pondered this recently as I came home after working 21 straight hours. As I drove in the early morning light, the city looked fresh and new, nobody was really out and about yet as it was the weekend, and looking into the distance the view of the mountains was crystal clear. God had blessed the world with a beautiful morning and it seemed to begin to erase the events of the night before from my mind.
In the course of my job I see a lot of things. A glimpse of my day included a 3 year old scalded by hot water(he pulled it down on himself from a pot on a stove), a domestic violence call, two drunks, a full Code while enroute back, and a teen so high on LSD it took 7 people to hold him down.
After watching these things and seeing just how bad some folks lives are, it really makes me stop and think. When I come home to my quiet little house and an ancient old dog who is thrilled to see me, when I sit down to peruse the morning paper with a cup of coffee and a yogurt and things are silent after seeing and listening to other people's chaos, it just makes me happy and thankful to know that I have a relatively quiet normal little life. Sure I may have my moments (who doesn't?) but they really aren't a big deal in the grand scheme of things.
So do things bother me? Sure they do, but I've learned over time how to put it all in perspective, and leave it behind me when I go home. Being thankful for what you do have makes you appreciate the rest of life a whole lot more.
I pondered this recently as I came home after working 21 straight hours. As I drove in the early morning light, the city looked fresh and new, nobody was really out and about yet as it was the weekend, and looking into the distance the view of the mountains was crystal clear. God had blessed the world with a beautiful morning and it seemed to begin to erase the events of the night before from my mind.
In the course of my job I see a lot of things. A glimpse of my day included a 3 year old scalded by hot water(he pulled it down on himself from a pot on a stove), a domestic violence call, two drunks, a full Code while enroute back, and a teen so high on LSD it took 7 people to hold him down.
After watching these things and seeing just how bad some folks lives are, it really makes me stop and think. When I come home to my quiet little house and an ancient old dog who is thrilled to see me, when I sit down to peruse the morning paper with a cup of coffee and a yogurt and things are silent after seeing and listening to other people's chaos, it just makes me happy and thankful to know that I have a relatively quiet normal little life. Sure I may have my moments (who doesn't?) but they really aren't a big deal in the grand scheme of things.
So do things bother me? Sure they do, but I've learned over time how to put it all in perspective, and leave it behind me when I go home. Being thankful for what you do have makes you appreciate the rest of life a whole lot more.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
The Good Stuff Too
Woke up that morning to a cold house, gray skies, and the first snow of the year falling outside. I'd just lit the fireplace when I noticed a familiar pickup parked at my curb out front and Steve-O walking up my driveway collar up, head down to the wind, hands jammed in his pockets and looking like a man on a mission today.
"Hey Rox," Steve said when I opened the door. "Knew you'd be up. I just wanted to tell you about last night. You got coffee on yet?"
Laughing I let him in from the cold and tell him if he will check on the fire I will see what I can scrounge up for breakfast. While I dig out eggs, bacon and cheese for an omelette, Steve brings in more wood from my garage. When he finishes up he comes into the kitchen, tosses his coat over a chair and takes a seat up on the countertop beside where I am working on the stove.
While Steve sits he fishes mugs from the cabinet for coffee and pours them while he gives me the highlights of the night before. During the course of the night Steve helped bring a baby into this world and his face lights up when he tells me all about it. It's hard not to join in his enthusiasm.
The reason Steve stopped this morning is something I understand very well as both he and I are in the same boat. Dedicated to our careers we are both single and sometimes when the end of shift comes, when it's time to go home after a good day's work, there is nobody there to share that with. The ups or the downs. Sometimes those good days seem hollow without someone to tell, someone to share with and so from time to time we get together for breakfast or supper just to talk and have someone else to tell these things to. It's a friendship bourne of similar circumstances, that and we have worked for years together. Sometimes we get blasted by our married and childrened counterparts who think that just because they are at that stages in their lives, anyone else who is not married with children must be ignorant. If I had a dime for everytime someone says... "Well you don't have children so you wouldn't understand." People blurt that out without thinking and so we the single people of our departments have to fend for ourselves. Steve gets that and understands it too.
We finish breakfast and nearly the entire coffeepot before my pager goes off. Walking Steve back out the door I ask him if the happy parents he'd helped had named the baby after him. He laughs and says no, that would really have sucked as the baby was a girl. "Ingrates!" I laugh and thank him for coming by to share his news with me.
I am glad that Steve stopped by. So many times when the guys drop by its to kvetcht or vent about the job, co workers or whatever. So it was nice to have someone stop in and share the good stuff with me. Helping bring a life into the world is indeed the good stuff, and there are not many higher moments than that.
"Hey Rox," Steve said when I opened the door. "Knew you'd be up. I just wanted to tell you about last night. You got coffee on yet?"
Laughing I let him in from the cold and tell him if he will check on the fire I will see what I can scrounge up for breakfast. While I dig out eggs, bacon and cheese for an omelette, Steve brings in more wood from my garage. When he finishes up he comes into the kitchen, tosses his coat over a chair and takes a seat up on the countertop beside where I am working on the stove.
While Steve sits he fishes mugs from the cabinet for coffee and pours them while he gives me the highlights of the night before. During the course of the night Steve helped bring a baby into this world and his face lights up when he tells me all about it. It's hard not to join in his enthusiasm.
The reason Steve stopped this morning is something I understand very well as both he and I are in the same boat. Dedicated to our careers we are both single and sometimes when the end of shift comes, when it's time to go home after a good day's work, there is nobody there to share that with. The ups or the downs. Sometimes those good days seem hollow without someone to tell, someone to share with and so from time to time we get together for breakfast or supper just to talk and have someone else to tell these things to. It's a friendship bourne of similar circumstances, that and we have worked for years together. Sometimes we get blasted by our married and childrened counterparts who think that just because they are at that stages in their lives, anyone else who is not married with children must be ignorant. If I had a dime for everytime someone says... "Well you don't have children so you wouldn't understand." People blurt that out without thinking and so we the single people of our departments have to fend for ourselves. Steve gets that and understands it too.
We finish breakfast and nearly the entire coffeepot before my pager goes off. Walking Steve back out the door I ask him if the happy parents he'd helped had named the baby after him. He laughs and says no, that would really have sucked as the baby was a girl. "Ingrates!" I laugh and thank him for coming by to share his news with me.
I am glad that Steve stopped by. So many times when the guys drop by its to kvetcht or vent about the job, co workers or whatever. So it was nice to have someone stop in and share the good stuff with me. Helping bring a life into the world is indeed the good stuff, and there are not many higher moments than that.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Cosmic Equilibrium
Can someone explain to me just why it is when you have a really awesome day, when everything is going your way that someone will call you with bad news and totally suck the wind right out of your sails? Is there some sort of cosmic equilibrium out there that we don't know about? Are there rules or a secret guide book to life that we are not privy to? If so I demand a copy dammit!
Today I came home in a fantastic mood, had gotten a bit of good news, something in my career that I had been working on for quite some time had fallen into place today, and I was just thrilled. Came home, had my music up, was doing my happy dance and was just pondering who first to share my news with when the phone rang.
It was a friend of mine, and of course the world as they knew it was coming to an end. Relationship, home and job had all gone bye-bye in one fell swoop. None of this was a surprise to me, I could have told you exactly how this was going to end two years ago, had even given the occasional warning as to this prediction over time but when someone is in love, they never really hear that, they believe love will conquer all. So I listened and agreed, tried to be a good friend by grumbling and cursing in the appropriate places, offered my shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen, and any help or support I could give. By the time I hung up the phone felt positively deflated. The little celebratory pizza I had made to share with the dog (he will turn himself inside out for a pizza crust) now sat cold on the stove top, and the blueberries I had taken out of the fridge were all warm and still sitting in a strainer in the sink. My happy little meal had lost it's appeal so I put it all back in the fridge for later and had a sandwich and iced tea instead. My dog had known there was a pizza in the making, and when I gave him a bit of bread crust instead of the pizza crust he was expecting he too joined the blue mood.
So I never did get to share my good news tonight, it was tainted by my friend's bad news. I know tomorrow when I tell Chris and Ron they will be thrilled, and the gang at work will be happy for me, but you know the glimmer of excited happiness I had like tonight just won't be there. Seeing plans falling into place while someone else's are falling apart just seems so unfair. Murphy's Law I guess. So if any of you know the where abouts of the Rulebook of Life, or any of the answers to the great Cosmic Equilibrium, please let me know as it sure would come in handy sometimes.
Today I came home in a fantastic mood, had gotten a bit of good news, something in my career that I had been working on for quite some time had fallen into place today, and I was just thrilled. Came home, had my music up, was doing my happy dance and was just pondering who first to share my news with when the phone rang.
It was a friend of mine, and of course the world as they knew it was coming to an end. Relationship, home and job had all gone bye-bye in one fell swoop. None of this was a surprise to me, I could have told you exactly how this was going to end two years ago, had even given the occasional warning as to this prediction over time but when someone is in love, they never really hear that, they believe love will conquer all. So I listened and agreed, tried to be a good friend by grumbling and cursing in the appropriate places, offered my shoulder to lean on and an ear to listen, and any help or support I could give. By the time I hung up the phone felt positively deflated. The little celebratory pizza I had made to share with the dog (he will turn himself inside out for a pizza crust) now sat cold on the stove top, and the blueberries I had taken out of the fridge were all warm and still sitting in a strainer in the sink. My happy little meal had lost it's appeal so I put it all back in the fridge for later and had a sandwich and iced tea instead. My dog had known there was a pizza in the making, and when I gave him a bit of bread crust instead of the pizza crust he was expecting he too joined the blue mood.
So I never did get to share my good news tonight, it was tainted by my friend's bad news. I know tomorrow when I tell Chris and Ron they will be thrilled, and the gang at work will be happy for me, but you know the glimmer of excited happiness I had like tonight just won't be there. Seeing plans falling into place while someone else's are falling apart just seems so unfair. Murphy's Law I guess. So if any of you know the where abouts of the Rulebook of Life, or any of the answers to the great Cosmic Equilibrium, please let me know as it sure would come in handy sometimes.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Why Else Would You Go?
You will have to forgive me in the next few weeks and months to come. Right now I am working on two projects in conjunction with work, and finding time to blog or even just to sleep is rather a challenge. An average week anymore runs 80-95 hours. Bless the person who invented daytimers and computer calenders, it's the only way I keep on top of everything and everyone anymore. Wish me luck, it's gonna be a long haul but it will be worth it.
----"Wanna go to the circus?" Mark asks when I come into the stationhouse.
----"Honi I already work for one, why would I pay money to watch another?"
----"I'm making up the rotation to cover it, just think you'd even get the chance to work with Moi!" Mark says with enthusiasm, thumping his chest and smiling. The idiotic girn on his face makes me laugh.
----"The only reason I'd go would be to make sure YOU come back. If people asked where you were I'd hate to tell them "Yeah, Mark ran off with the circus..."
----"Lions and Tigers and Bears..."
----"No Way! We have plenty of mountain lions and bears around here. Besides I hate clowns. Can you imagine having to resuscitate a clown?"
----"Come on Rox, just think, someone could go flying off a trapeze, or a tiger could get loose and jump into the crowd!" This thought makes me giggle.
----"You really are a certified SICKO. You're really secretly hoping people get mauled?"
----"Or trampled, an elephant could go nuts or something! Why else would you want go to the circus?"
Indeed, why else would you want to go? I had to refuse Mark's charming offer, but I am still smiling thinking about him (and others I am sure) secretly cheering for the animals.
----"Wanna go to the circus?" Mark asks when I come into the stationhouse.
----"Honi I already work for one, why would I pay money to watch another?"
----"I'm making up the rotation to cover it, just think you'd even get the chance to work with Moi!" Mark says with enthusiasm, thumping his chest and smiling. The idiotic girn on his face makes me laugh.
----"The only reason I'd go would be to make sure YOU come back. If people asked where you were I'd hate to tell them "Yeah, Mark ran off with the circus..."
----"Lions and Tigers and Bears..."
----"No Way! We have plenty of mountain lions and bears around here. Besides I hate clowns. Can you imagine having to resuscitate a clown?"
----"Come on Rox, just think, someone could go flying off a trapeze, or a tiger could get loose and jump into the crowd!" This thought makes me giggle.
----"You really are a certified SICKO. You're really secretly hoping people get mauled?"
----"Or trampled, an elephant could go nuts or something! Why else would you want go to the circus?"
Indeed, why else would you want to go? I had to refuse Mark's charming offer, but I am still smiling thinking about him (and others I am sure) secretly cheering for the animals.
Monday, August 20, 2007
10 Things That Make Me Smile
10 Things That Make Me Smile
-----When I radio in and folks can hear my patient's three screaming children in the background crying and shrieking and they have the foresight to come out and meet our rig in the ambulance bay to help with kid patrol without prompting.
-----The guys who fill my travel coffee mug make me smile, even when they screw the lid on so tight it will take an act of God for me to get it back off again. They don't do it on purpose,they just don't realize their own strength.
-----The grinning smart ass who shot me in the back with the water hose while washing his rig the other day. In the 100 degree weather it actually felt nice. He knew I was heading home or he would have been dead meat.
-----When kids smile and wave to us as we drive by.
-----The three of my off-duty crew who called me late in the evening when they heard on the news that SAR would be going out for a horseback recovery early the next morning. They called to offer to help cover my workshift knowing that I would be going out with SAR. When folks offer before me having to even ask...Thanks for "Covering My SIX".
-----That both Chris and Ron find it amusing to try to hit potholes or manhole covers while I am retouching my lipstick. As if I am not on to their tricks...
-----The Knife Drawer. There is one drawer at work that has the fork/spoon/butter knife tray, everything in it's place. The drawer next to it is the KNIFE drawer and contains about a bazillion steak knives, butcher knives and about every size knife that has ever been made - all of them thrown in there in a heap. These knives easily out number the utensils by about three to one. Scary damn drawer but it makes me laugh and remember that I am (after all) working with mostly men...
-----Sending email to Chris in foreign languages just to mess with him.
-----Being on Standby with Ron and People Watching while we sit. His comments and stories leave me in stitches and sure help pass the time.
-----The boys from FIRE who always throw and extra burger or hotdog on the grill when they see me pulling into the stationhouse. Even if I have ten million things going on and can't join them they will send stuff along "to go." Thanks Guys! ***
-----When I radio in and folks can hear my patient's three screaming children in the background crying and shrieking and they have the foresight to come out and meet our rig in the ambulance bay to help with kid patrol without prompting.
-----The guys who fill my travel coffee mug make me smile, even when they screw the lid on so tight it will take an act of God for me to get it back off again. They don't do it on purpose,they just don't realize their own strength.
-----The grinning smart ass who shot me in the back with the water hose while washing his rig the other day. In the 100 degree weather it actually felt nice. He knew I was heading home or he would have been dead meat.
-----When kids smile and wave to us as we drive by.
-----The three of my off-duty crew who called me late in the evening when they heard on the news that SAR would be going out for a horseback recovery early the next morning. They called to offer to help cover my workshift knowing that I would be going out with SAR. When folks offer before me having to even ask...Thanks for "Covering My SIX".
-----That both Chris and Ron find it amusing to try to hit potholes or manhole covers while I am retouching my lipstick. As if I am not on to their tricks...
-----The Knife Drawer. There is one drawer at work that has the fork/spoon/butter knife tray, everything in it's place. The drawer next to it is the KNIFE drawer and contains about a bazillion steak knives, butcher knives and about every size knife that has ever been made - all of them thrown in there in a heap. These knives easily out number the utensils by about three to one. Scary damn drawer but it makes me laugh and remember that I am (after all) working with mostly men...
-----Sending email to Chris in foreign languages just to mess with him.
-----Being on Standby with Ron and People Watching while we sit. His comments and stories leave me in stitches and sure help pass the time.
-----The boys from FIRE who always throw and extra burger or hotdog on the grill when they see me pulling into the stationhouse. Even if I have ten million things going on and can't join them they will send stuff along "to go." Thanks Guys! ***
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Ah, the Newbies...
If people learned ahead of time what working in the medical field was really all about, nobody would ever do it. "Danny" just got certified and is brand spanking new to his job at the hospital, so new he only got his nametag tonight. He laughed at me when I asked him if he was current on all of his shots. I wasn't kidding. When the shift began he was all too happy to help, asking me to let him know if there was anything he could do to help Ron and I. He was eager to see it all and experience it all but by the end of the night he was more or less running around like a chicken with his head cut off and learning that sometimes around here, it's everybody for themself.
The shift tonight included these highlights: an elderly dementia patient who managed to leave his room minus his clothes and roam out into the corridor not once but twice, one full Code Blue, one incoming LifeAlert chopper to pick up a Neuro trauma, a patient offered to sell me narcotics (she offered to Danny too), a fishing hook extraction (self inflicted to the back of the head while attempting to cast a line), a drunk mother screaming at and threatening to kill her son (age 7-9ish and terrified), a serious cat bite, some asshole pinched me, the same asshole spit on Ron, and my favorite: the woman with the DT's who attempted to lick my arm. When her doctor arrived and I gave report, he asked if she tried to bite me, and when I said no, he laughed and said "well, I guess she is making progress then..."
By night's end Danny looked different. Shell shocked was more like it. The life they depict in the college courses is nothing like real life in the ER. When he asked me what I was doing, (the hallucinating DT woman was certain there were mice in her bed and I was pretending to chase them away so she would settle down- which actually worked!) I looked at him and asked him if he REALLY wanted to know. He got the picture. Sometimes its better NOT to know around here, makes life a helluva lot easier.
PS: I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, and was surprised last weekend to see Danny come out to the ambulance bay. He'd heard the radio chatter earlier in ED and thought perhaps it was Ron and I again and wanted to say hello. We quizzed Danny about how life was treating him (had the nurses been nasty to him, had certain doctors ignored him, had he figured out yet why I asked him if his shots were up to date?) he seems to have survived and is holding his own. When Ron and I left Ron said he thought Danny might make it after all, which made me laugh as (to put it in Ron's words) he'd said after that first night "that poor little bastard is gonna be eaten alive!..." So Good Luck Danny, if you can survive being a Newbie, you can survive anything.
The shift tonight included these highlights: an elderly dementia patient who managed to leave his room minus his clothes and roam out into the corridor not once but twice, one full Code Blue, one incoming LifeAlert chopper to pick up a Neuro trauma, a patient offered to sell me narcotics (she offered to Danny too), a fishing hook extraction (self inflicted to the back of the head while attempting to cast a line), a drunk mother screaming at and threatening to kill her son (age 7-9ish and terrified), a serious cat bite, some asshole pinched me, the same asshole spit on Ron, and my favorite: the woman with the DT's who attempted to lick my arm. When her doctor arrived and I gave report, he asked if she tried to bite me, and when I said no, he laughed and said "well, I guess she is making progress then..."
By night's end Danny looked different. Shell shocked was more like it. The life they depict in the college courses is nothing like real life in the ER. When he asked me what I was doing, (the hallucinating DT woman was certain there were mice in her bed and I was pretending to chase them away so she would settle down- which actually worked!) I looked at him and asked him if he REALLY wanted to know. He got the picture. Sometimes its better NOT to know around here, makes life a helluva lot easier.
PS: I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, and was surprised last weekend to see Danny come out to the ambulance bay. He'd heard the radio chatter earlier in ED and thought perhaps it was Ron and I again and wanted to say hello. We quizzed Danny about how life was treating him (had the nurses been nasty to him, had certain doctors ignored him, had he figured out yet why I asked him if his shots were up to date?) he seems to have survived and is holding his own. When Ron and I left Ron said he thought Danny might make it after all, which made me laugh as (to put it in Ron's words) he'd said after that first night "that poor little bastard is gonna be eaten alive!..." So Good Luck Danny, if you can survive being a Newbie, you can survive anything.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Fool Me Twice -Shame on Me...
You would think I'd know better than this. I live at a high altitude, I am Irish and have porcelain colored skin and flaming red hair. None of these things mix well with the sun. Yesterday I went out for a bit to work In my flower garden and wound up sunburning my back in a big way. My just a few minutes turned into a couple of hours and ta-dah! Roxy Flambe'!
Now today a pack of us girls from work went up to Frontier Days in Cheyenne. Went for the parade and rodeo and of couse the mandatory eating of junk food. When we had packed up Jill said she had the sunscreen along and that we were good to go. Well we got to the parade and no dice, she didn't have any and neither did the rest of us. And so began the second day of slow burn for me. Fortunately I had a cowboy hat on that protected my already sunburned head for the most part, but the rest of me was fair game for the sun. By the time we got back to Colorado someone laughed and said well at least your backside and your frontside now match in color....
I am really dreading going back to work though, that will be the worst of it. People tend to wrap their arms around my shoulders, or give me hugs, or yank on my long hair, all of which are going to be sheer torture for a few more days. Of course I will also get blasted because I am forever reminding the guys if you are out in the heat, out in the sun, DRINK MORE WATER, and USE YOUR SUNSCREEN! You would think after reminding everyone else, some of it would eventually sink in. The gang is going to have a hay day when they see me, I swear, one of these days I will actually learn to heed my own advice...
Now today a pack of us girls from work went up to Frontier Days in Cheyenne. Went for the parade and rodeo and of couse the mandatory eating of junk food. When we had packed up Jill said she had the sunscreen along and that we were good to go. Well we got to the parade and no dice, she didn't have any and neither did the rest of us. And so began the second day of slow burn for me. Fortunately I had a cowboy hat on that protected my already sunburned head for the most part, but the rest of me was fair game for the sun. By the time we got back to Colorado someone laughed and said well at least your backside and your frontside now match in color....
I am really dreading going back to work though, that will be the worst of it. People tend to wrap their arms around my shoulders, or give me hugs, or yank on my long hair, all of which are going to be sheer torture for a few more days. Of course I will also get blasted because I am forever reminding the guys if you are out in the heat, out in the sun, DRINK MORE WATER, and USE YOUR SUNSCREEN! You would think after reminding everyone else, some of it would eventually sink in. The gang is going to have a hay day when they see me, I swear, one of these days I will actually learn to heed my own advice...
Friday, July 06, 2007
Tetanus Anyone?
This one is for Urban, somehow I know you can sympathize.
After moving into my new place someone brought in a cake before I'd had a chance to even think about unpacking anything. Rummaging around out in the kitchen "Ted" asks where a knife might be. I gesture over at some boxes in the corner and tell him that his guess is as good as mine. Not paying attention behind me Ted continues to dig around and I hear him say, "Oh look a screwdriver! This would work..." Of course I thought he was joking. Apparently he was not.
Turning around from the counter after hearing water running in the sink, I see Ted hack into the cake and cut himself a big piece. Before I can say anything he puts the cake on a napkin, rinses frosting off the screwdriver, tosses it into the sink, finds himself a bottle of water and roams off to go eat.
Is this just a guy thing or what?
After moving into my new place someone brought in a cake before I'd had a chance to even think about unpacking anything. Rummaging around out in the kitchen "Ted" asks where a knife might be. I gesture over at some boxes in the corner and tell him that his guess is as good as mine. Not paying attention behind me Ted continues to dig around and I hear him say, "Oh look a screwdriver! This would work..." Of course I thought he was joking. Apparently he was not.
Turning around from the counter after hearing water running in the sink, I see Ted hack into the cake and cut himself a big piece. Before I can say anything he puts the cake on a napkin, rinses frosting off the screwdriver, tosses it into the sink, finds himself a bottle of water and roams off to go eat.
Is this just a guy thing or what?
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Family Too
Moving Day 2007
Have to admit that I was relieved when my cell phone rang early last weekend and I heard Chris's familiar voice. He doesn't even say hello, just says he is on his way and would I like to go out for breakfast. I laugh and inform him that I have been up for 36 some hours, I am grungy from work, and I am covered in ten layers of dirt from packing and cleaning on top of being sweaty and smelly. He says fine, he'll do drive-thru and be over in a few minutes.
To Chris's credit he never once made fun of me when he saw the person he normally calls his work partner looking like a deranged cavewoman. He brought in Starbucks, mcmuffins and breakfast burritos and we had a picnic on the floor of my livingroom as it was the only place left in the apartment that was not stacked with boxes and furniture.
From that point on Chris took over. I didn't ask him to, didn't expect him to, he just kinda up and did it.His Super Chris mode kicked in. Maybe it was because I looked like a total wreck, or that he knows I have no family around, or maybe it was because he didn't think I had enough energy to do it I don't know, regardless, I am glad he did. We worked on the place until the cavalry (the guys helping me move) arrived, and Chris directed everything. I never lifted a damn thing. The guys did it all, I just had to basically stay the hell out of their way.
My big job was to drive the most loaded down truck and trailer, which the guys had piled so high with couches and mattresses I was afraid it might actually wipe out a stoplight. When I lead out the caravan bound for my new place the time and temperature boards we passed were all reading over 100 degrees. Sitting in traffic downtown, windows wide open, music cranked up with Chris singing along with it and holding my dog, and a line of coworkers in their vehicles waiting behind me, friends who had not once bitched or whined about helping or the heat, I realized how damn lucky and charmed I really am.
Arriving the whole process reverses itself. As things come in my basic job is to point which room things go into. Again I try to stay out of the way and let the guys wrestle with the furniture and the hooking up of appliances. It's general mayhem for a while, but finally everything is in and one by one folks come into the livingroom and drop onto the floor, couch and hearth, wherever they can sit, guzzle water (35 bottles worth!) and visit for a while. The consensus is that my new home is pretty awesome, the huge REAL fireplace is spectacular, that I really scored getting into this neighborhood, and living so close by I can see even MORE of everyone! (Oh Joy of Joys!)
Once the crowd clears out Chris stays on and we reshuffle things around for a while as he Chrisifies my home, checking on things and making sure that it is worthy of the Super Chris seal of approval. I am so tired I don't care. When he seems appeased I find a pair of beers in the fridge and we collapse on the couch to enjoy them. We catch up on the last couple of days as I have been working on a countywide EMS project and he has been left to fend for himself, we gossip a bit, and talk shop and life for a while. Finally I ask the question that has left me wondering all day, and he laughed and replied:
"How long have we worked together? For crying out loud you are my best friend. Why wouldn't I be here to help you? You are my family too! "
Thanks Chris, you keep me real. Just when that stubborn side of me kicks in and believes that I don't need anyone or anything, that I can take on the world singlehandedly, you kick me in the ass and remind me of what friends are for.
Have to admit that I was relieved when my cell phone rang early last weekend and I heard Chris's familiar voice. He doesn't even say hello, just says he is on his way and would I like to go out for breakfast. I laugh and inform him that I have been up for 36 some hours, I am grungy from work, and I am covered in ten layers of dirt from packing and cleaning on top of being sweaty and smelly. He says fine, he'll do drive-thru and be over in a few minutes.
To Chris's credit he never once made fun of me when he saw the person he normally calls his work partner looking like a deranged cavewoman. He brought in Starbucks, mcmuffins and breakfast burritos and we had a picnic on the floor of my livingroom as it was the only place left in the apartment that was not stacked with boxes and furniture.
From that point on Chris took over. I didn't ask him to, didn't expect him to, he just kinda up and did it.His Super Chris mode kicked in. Maybe it was because I looked like a total wreck, or that he knows I have no family around, or maybe it was because he didn't think I had enough energy to do it I don't know, regardless, I am glad he did. We worked on the place until the cavalry (the guys helping me move) arrived, and Chris directed everything. I never lifted a damn thing. The guys did it all, I just had to basically stay the hell out of their way.
My big job was to drive the most loaded down truck and trailer, which the guys had piled so high with couches and mattresses I was afraid it might actually wipe out a stoplight. When I lead out the caravan bound for my new place the time and temperature boards we passed were all reading over 100 degrees. Sitting in traffic downtown, windows wide open, music cranked up with Chris singing along with it and holding my dog, and a line of coworkers in their vehicles waiting behind me, friends who had not once bitched or whined about helping or the heat, I realized how damn lucky and charmed I really am.
Arriving the whole process reverses itself. As things come in my basic job is to point which room things go into. Again I try to stay out of the way and let the guys wrestle with the furniture and the hooking up of appliances. It's general mayhem for a while, but finally everything is in and one by one folks come into the livingroom and drop onto the floor, couch and hearth, wherever they can sit, guzzle water (35 bottles worth!) and visit for a while. The consensus is that my new home is pretty awesome, the huge REAL fireplace is spectacular, that I really scored getting into this neighborhood, and living so close by I can see even MORE of everyone! (Oh Joy of Joys!)
Once the crowd clears out Chris stays on and we reshuffle things around for a while as he Chrisifies my home, checking on things and making sure that it is worthy of the Super Chris seal of approval. I am so tired I don't care. When he seems appeased I find a pair of beers in the fridge and we collapse on the couch to enjoy them. We catch up on the last couple of days as I have been working on a countywide EMS project and he has been left to fend for himself, we gossip a bit, and talk shop and life for a while. Finally I ask the question that has left me wondering all day, and he laughed and replied:
"How long have we worked together? For crying out loud you are my best friend. Why wouldn't I be here to help you? You are my family too! "
Thanks Chris, you keep me real. Just when that stubborn side of me kicks in and believes that I don't need anyone or anything, that I can take on the world singlehandedly, you kick me in the ass and remind me of what friends are for.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Laughter is the Best Medicine
You know, I was really stunned to hear someone make the comment that folks who laugh out loud must not be very smart. The comment really floored me because I think it could not be further from the truth. When I hear folks laughing, all out laughing, to me in symbolizes happy people. Relaxation. A moment of unwinding. People who can't laugh, who give just a fakey smile or a little hmmph seem to me to be hiding something, or bridling their true emotions-worried about what the rest of the world will think of them. That to me is sad.
Happy people also come in another form. When I hear the sound of someone singing while out in the garage restocking a rig, cleaning equipment, or folding laundry, when I hear someone coming up the corridor whistling, or humming in the lockerroom to me that symbolizes contentment, and a general happy attitude. If you think about it, you never hear an unhappy person singing.
I am guilty of being both of the above things. I am known for my big bold laugh, and folks tend to congregate wherever I am because of that. Laughter is happiness and a sense of fun, and thats where friends and co-workers want to be, you don't see them hanging around sullen, quiet folks. People want to be around happiness.
My life and my profession are as amusing as they are demanding. The guys I work with make the cast on MASH look boring. Were it not for that very point, I probably would have given up long ago. So does that make us not very smart? Because we know how to laugh and have fun? It's probably the one thing that keeps us sane.
Happy people also come in another form. When I hear the sound of someone singing while out in the garage restocking a rig, cleaning equipment, or folding laundry, when I hear someone coming up the corridor whistling, or humming in the lockerroom to me that symbolizes contentment, and a general happy attitude. If you think about it, you never hear an unhappy person singing.
I am guilty of being both of the above things. I am known for my big bold laugh, and folks tend to congregate wherever I am because of that. Laughter is happiness and a sense of fun, and thats where friends and co-workers want to be, you don't see them hanging around sullen, quiet folks. People want to be around happiness.
My life and my profession are as amusing as they are demanding. The guys I work with make the cast on MASH look boring. Were it not for that very point, I probably would have given up long ago. So does that make us not very smart? Because we know how to laugh and have fun? It's probably the one thing that keeps us sane.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
You and Me Both
"You let my daughter DIE!" was the accusation I was confronted with when we returned to our rig out at the ambulance bay.
This of course was not true, this man's daughter had died at the scene, another teenage driving casualty. Though she had not been the driver, the outcome had turned out the same. Youth, inexperience, a fast car, and the perception that "nothing bad can ever happen to me;" all those things contributed, all those things are the reason why.
"You let my daughter DIE TONIGHT!" the man rages at me again. "You didn't SAVE her, you let her DIE out there!"
I say nothing. I cannot be cruel and explain the gruesome details to this man about how his daughter died. The cold hard truth. How bad her head injury had been, how she had been pinned inside the wreckage and needed to be cut out with the Jaws, how she had bled to death from internal injuries before anyone could have gotten to her. This is not the time nor the place, and an explanation is not what he wants. It is nothing he would hear anyway.
Ron has unclipped a LinkLine from his waist. He murmurs into it softly asking for security, but he has not moved from my side. Come hell or high water he stands beside me now ready for come what may. This is not the first time things like this have arisen, and I am sure it will not be the last. He is taking his cues from me, we don't know if this man will come after us, has a knife or a gun, but I have a pretty good inkling. I don't say anything at all, not a word, but I can read this man's eyes like a book and I know I am the one in control here.
"She's dead...they said she is DEAD," the man reiterates, but something in his voice is changing. It isn't anger so much as shock. Still I say nothing but I make sure I don't lose his eye contact. Security slams thru the doors behind us coming at a run, and Jack starts to speak but I stick an arm out behind me and wave him off.
"I just talked to her around eleven and they were on their way home... Now she's gone."
Intuitively I take a step forward, and he takes a step back. He sees me now for what I am; reality, and it's something he does not want to face. He steps back again and backs himself up against the chainlink fence. There is nowhere else to turn. Somewhere behind me someone hisses my name and I ignore it.
I offer out my hand to him, holding it before me. I wait. His eyes close for a moment and he reaches up to rub them, then squats down on his haunches and begins to cry.
"Please go grab me a blanket from the warmer..." I ask Ron.
"She's gone..." the man sobs openly before us now. My stomach twists into knots seeing his pain. Ron nudges me and hands me a warmed blanket and I open it up and reach out to drape it around the man's shoulders.
"Let's go inside," I finally murmur, and the man lets me help him to his feet again. With his blanket around him and his shoulders hunched over, he looks like a little old man now. I walk with him, Ron beside me, Security ahead of and behind us. It has all the feel of leading a convict off to jail.
Once things get sorted out, I leave the man in the care of a chaplain off in one of the consult rooms. Other family members have arrived by then. Before I go the man apologizes, says he knows I did what I could. I nod my head and tell him there is nothing to apologize for, wish him my condolences, and then go.
"I don't know how you do that," Ron says as we walk back up the corridor. "You scare the hell out of me sometimes."
"You and me both Baby, you and me both."
This of course was not true, this man's daughter had died at the scene, another teenage driving casualty. Though she had not been the driver, the outcome had turned out the same. Youth, inexperience, a fast car, and the perception that "nothing bad can ever happen to me;" all those things contributed, all those things are the reason why.
"You let my daughter DIE TONIGHT!" the man rages at me again. "You didn't SAVE her, you let her DIE out there!"
I say nothing. I cannot be cruel and explain the gruesome details to this man about how his daughter died. The cold hard truth. How bad her head injury had been, how she had been pinned inside the wreckage and needed to be cut out with the Jaws, how she had bled to death from internal injuries before anyone could have gotten to her. This is not the time nor the place, and an explanation is not what he wants. It is nothing he would hear anyway.
Ron has unclipped a LinkLine from his waist. He murmurs into it softly asking for security, but he has not moved from my side. Come hell or high water he stands beside me now ready for come what may. This is not the first time things like this have arisen, and I am sure it will not be the last. He is taking his cues from me, we don't know if this man will come after us, has a knife or a gun, but I have a pretty good inkling. I don't say anything at all, not a word, but I can read this man's eyes like a book and I know I am the one in control here.
"She's dead...they said she is DEAD," the man reiterates, but something in his voice is changing. It isn't anger so much as shock. Still I say nothing but I make sure I don't lose his eye contact. Security slams thru the doors behind us coming at a run, and Jack starts to speak but I stick an arm out behind me and wave him off.
"I just talked to her around eleven and they were on their way home... Now she's gone."
Intuitively I take a step forward, and he takes a step back. He sees me now for what I am; reality, and it's something he does not want to face. He steps back again and backs himself up against the chainlink fence. There is nowhere else to turn. Somewhere behind me someone hisses my name and I ignore it.
I offer out my hand to him, holding it before me. I wait. His eyes close for a moment and he reaches up to rub them, then squats down on his haunches and begins to cry.
"Please go grab me a blanket from the warmer..." I ask Ron.
"She's gone..." the man sobs openly before us now. My stomach twists into knots seeing his pain. Ron nudges me and hands me a warmed blanket and I open it up and reach out to drape it around the man's shoulders.
"Let's go inside," I finally murmur, and the man lets me help him to his feet again. With his blanket around him and his shoulders hunched over, he looks like a little old man now. I walk with him, Ron beside me, Security ahead of and behind us. It has all the feel of leading a convict off to jail.
Once things get sorted out, I leave the man in the care of a chaplain off in one of the consult rooms. Other family members have arrived by then. Before I go the man apologizes, says he knows I did what I could. I nod my head and tell him there is nothing to apologize for, wish him my condolences, and then go.
"I don't know how you do that," Ron says as we walk back up the corridor. "You scare the hell out of me sometimes."
"You and me both Baby, you and me both."
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Somebody Else's Problem
Lord knows I am not perfect, I have never claimed to be. But some things really bother me, this is one of them, so I hope when you read it you might understand why sometimes we all have to take the initiative to do things and quit letting everything wind up being Somebody Else's Problem.
When I saw her sitting alone in the lobby at this time of evening I knew that something was wrong, something was out of place. At this time of night this lobby is closed down for the day. As I cross the empty lobby to where she sits alone watching a storm brewing outside the windows, something about this gal reminds me of my own Grandma back when she still graced this Earth. Perhaps it was the curly white hair, or the prim way she was sitting with her purse and cane. For a young lady who was eighty if she was a day she held herself in a dignified manner despite the rather confused look on her face.
The gal I am walking with gives me a shrug when I split off from her to go talk to the lady. It was a shrug that said "ha-ha yer on your own..." This annoyed me a great deal as I knelt down on the floor in front of the lady and asked her if she was okay.
---"My daughter was suppose to meet me," she says. "Does this phone dial long distance with money?" she asks leafing thru a tiny little phone/address book.
---"No, but my cell phone can call long distance for free," I offer unclipping one of my phones and together we dial her daughter’s home and her cell, neither of which are picking up. No dice.
-----The little lady looks clearly upset, not knowing what to do. "She was suppose to come after an appointment, she should have been here by now. She'll be here soon I'm sure... I can wait for her."
---"Do you have a family member in the hospital?"
---"My husband came in with the ambulance, and he had to have surgery. They took him up to a room about two hours ago."
The story is becoming more and more clear.
---"What if we went up to your husbands room? Could you wait there with him? I bet if we go up your daughter will find her way there when she arrives."
---"She promised to meet me right here, what if I am not here for her?"
---"We will find her, don’t worry. We’ll find her I promise."
So having said that I go and filch one of PACU’s wheel chairs and settle the lady into it and off we go. Her husband’s room happens to be (of course) on the far side of the complex, and the lady kindly chatters to me as we go up the elevators and down the corridors. From what she tells me she probably could not have walked that far, much less found the room, and that all though her family tries to help her, sometimes they are more of a pain in the rump than anything. This makes me laugh and I pat her shoulder and tell her that at least their hearts are in the right place.
When we arrive at the floor I can see a young woman down the hall animatedly speaking (or yelling which is more likely the case) about how her mother is lost, and how could we have done such a thing? Lose her mother somewhere in here? The nurses look to me as I push "Mom" up the hall and to the room. Daughter stomps up and demands answers. "Where were you? Dad has been frantic waiting for you! Where have you been?"
----"I was waiting for you dear. Just like I promised..."
----"Couldn’t SOMEONE have brought you up here?"
I look Daughter in the eye."We’re here now and it’s okay, that’s what matters most," I say with my smooth cool quiet tone that stops folks in their tracks. It’s not a mean tone or a harsh one, it's a polished one honed over years of experience and it conveys exactly what it needs to. Quiet authority. Control.
With the family reunited again I take the chair and head back to where we had come from. As I walk it grates me, really makes me see red how things like this happen. How many people in the course of the last couple of hours saw that lady sitting out there? How many stopped or paid any attention at all? Well not the desk girls, they had to have known she was there, but the minute their shift is done they are gone come hell or high water. How about the volunteers who man that desk and are suppose to be looking after the patient families? Same scenario, shift is done bye-bye! What about "Gabe" in security when he made his rounds? What about the nurses who come in and out, and who get uppity and swear up and down to me every damn time that they always know when people are out in that farside lobby? It’s a quarrel we continually have over and over again.
Patient care is what we are here to do, but just importantly is care for the family too. People need to pay more attention, pay attention to those little things because they sure as hell matter. This is the medical field that’s why they call us caregivers. If you can’t find it within yourself to take a moment for all of those we care for-patients or their families, you need to find yourself a different line of work. Go be a clerk or a secretary for the realtor, or sell cars on the car lot. Be somewhere where you are not leaving people in the lurch, where you can clock out, walk away and be done for the day right on time and not have to consider anyone but yourself. Seems anymore that people always leave things up to others to take are of, pass the buck.
How folks could just walk away and leave a very confused 80 year old lady all alone in that lobby is beyond me. Floors me! How long might she have remained there? Heaven only knows. Easiest way to put it into perspective is this: What if that 80 year old lady had been someone in your family? What if that lady had been YOU? Makes you stop and think and remember about what really is important in life. Someday I hope that should I ever be in the same boat, me or someone I love, that somebody out there will look out for me or help me, and that I won't just wind up being Somebody Else's Problem.
When I saw her sitting alone in the lobby at this time of evening I knew that something was wrong, something was out of place. At this time of night this lobby is closed down for the day. As I cross the empty lobby to where she sits alone watching a storm brewing outside the windows, something about this gal reminds me of my own Grandma back when she still graced this Earth. Perhaps it was the curly white hair, or the prim way she was sitting with her purse and cane. For a young lady who was eighty if she was a day she held herself in a dignified manner despite the rather confused look on her face.
The gal I am walking with gives me a shrug when I split off from her to go talk to the lady. It was a shrug that said "ha-ha yer on your own..." This annoyed me a great deal as I knelt down on the floor in front of the lady and asked her if she was okay.
---"My daughter was suppose to meet me," she says. "Does this phone dial long distance with money?" she asks leafing thru a tiny little phone/address book.
---"No, but my cell phone can call long distance for free," I offer unclipping one of my phones and together we dial her daughter’s home and her cell, neither of which are picking up. No dice.
-----The little lady looks clearly upset, not knowing what to do. "She was suppose to come after an appointment, she should have been here by now. She'll be here soon I'm sure... I can wait for her."
---"Do you have a family member in the hospital?"
---"My husband came in with the ambulance, and he had to have surgery. They took him up to a room about two hours ago."
The story is becoming more and more clear.
---"What if we went up to your husbands room? Could you wait there with him? I bet if we go up your daughter will find her way there when she arrives."
---"She promised to meet me right here, what if I am not here for her?"
---"We will find her, don’t worry. We’ll find her I promise."
So having said that I go and filch one of PACU’s wheel chairs and settle the lady into it and off we go. Her husband’s room happens to be (of course) on the far side of the complex, and the lady kindly chatters to me as we go up the elevators and down the corridors. From what she tells me she probably could not have walked that far, much less found the room, and that all though her family tries to help her, sometimes they are more of a pain in the rump than anything. This makes me laugh and I pat her shoulder and tell her that at least their hearts are in the right place.
When we arrive at the floor I can see a young woman down the hall animatedly speaking (or yelling which is more likely the case) about how her mother is lost, and how could we have done such a thing? Lose her mother somewhere in here? The nurses look to me as I push "Mom" up the hall and to the room. Daughter stomps up and demands answers. "Where were you? Dad has been frantic waiting for you! Where have you been?"
----"I was waiting for you dear. Just like I promised..."
----"Couldn’t SOMEONE have brought you up here?"
I look Daughter in the eye."We’re here now and it’s okay, that’s what matters most," I say with my smooth cool quiet tone that stops folks in their tracks. It’s not a mean tone or a harsh one, it's a polished one honed over years of experience and it conveys exactly what it needs to. Quiet authority. Control.
With the family reunited again I take the chair and head back to where we had come from. As I walk it grates me, really makes me see red how things like this happen. How many people in the course of the last couple of hours saw that lady sitting out there? How many stopped or paid any attention at all? Well not the desk girls, they had to have known she was there, but the minute their shift is done they are gone come hell or high water. How about the volunteers who man that desk and are suppose to be looking after the patient families? Same scenario, shift is done bye-bye! What about "Gabe" in security when he made his rounds? What about the nurses who come in and out, and who get uppity and swear up and down to me every damn time that they always know when people are out in that farside lobby? It’s a quarrel we continually have over and over again.
Patient care is what we are here to do, but just importantly is care for the family too. People need to pay more attention, pay attention to those little things because they sure as hell matter. This is the medical field that’s why they call us caregivers. If you can’t find it within yourself to take a moment for all of those we care for-patients or their families, you need to find yourself a different line of work. Go be a clerk or a secretary for the realtor, or sell cars on the car lot. Be somewhere where you are not leaving people in the lurch, where you can clock out, walk away and be done for the day right on time and not have to consider anyone but yourself. Seems anymore that people always leave things up to others to take are of, pass the buck.
How folks could just walk away and leave a very confused 80 year old lady all alone in that lobby is beyond me. Floors me! How long might she have remained there? Heaven only knows. Easiest way to put it into perspective is this: What if that 80 year old lady had been someone in your family? What if that lady had been YOU? Makes you stop and think and remember about what really is important in life. Someday I hope that should I ever be in the same boat, me or someone I love, that somebody out there will look out for me or help me, and that I won't just wind up being Somebody Else's Problem.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Making Kids Smile
"You thirsty?" Ron asks me as he drives. I look up from my clipboard to where he is pointing, and I smile. "Absolutely," I reply as he pulls our ambulance in at the curb and parks.
You've never seen bigger grins on kids faces then when you pull over at their little Kool Aid stands in an ambulance. If we are not busy, and are on our way back from somewhere, taking two minutes to stop and make some kids day is well worth it, and judging from their reactions, you would think we were royalty. They can't wait to tell their friends and parents that an ambulance stopped by their little stand!
Two girls and a boy have a stand today. Lemonade Kool Aid. 50 Cents a glass, but Ron and I each pay a dollar and tell them to keep the change. The kids are thrilled and eagerly chat with us thru my open door. They peek inside and when they ask Ron if he will turn on the lights he does for a moment, and this thrills them. I sip my Kool Aid and double blink, before smiling and telling the kids thank-you this really "hit's the spot!"
Heading on our way again I non-chalantly watch Ron out of the corner of my eye. He pulls out, turns the corner and we wind our way into the traffic. He absently picks up his cup to take a drink, and his reaction is instantaneous. "Holy Hell!" he barks when the apparently unsugared Lemonade Kool Aid with extra lemon slice actually reaches his taste buds. The look on his face was priceless, a true Kodak moment missed and it made me laugh so hard I actually snorted, to which he gave me his scowly face look before laughing too.
Ron is not a kid person, but after riding with me over the years, he has come around to stopping for the kids. He knows it makes me smile and I enjoy stopping, but I secretly think he enjoys it too. It's one time that kids are thrilled to see us, when they are not screaming or scared or hurt and in pain. Seeing them like this does us good, and it's a good for kids to see us as regular people too, not just the people who come in an emergency. Puts a positive spin on life for all of us. Maybe the Kool Aid was sour enough to pucker your face off, but it was worth it just to make those kids smile.
You've never seen bigger grins on kids faces then when you pull over at their little Kool Aid stands in an ambulance. If we are not busy, and are on our way back from somewhere, taking two minutes to stop and make some kids day is well worth it, and judging from their reactions, you would think we were royalty. They can't wait to tell their friends and parents that an ambulance stopped by their little stand!
Two girls and a boy have a stand today. Lemonade Kool Aid. 50 Cents a glass, but Ron and I each pay a dollar and tell them to keep the change. The kids are thrilled and eagerly chat with us thru my open door. They peek inside and when they ask Ron if he will turn on the lights he does for a moment, and this thrills them. I sip my Kool Aid and double blink, before smiling and telling the kids thank-you this really "hit's the spot!"
Heading on our way again I non-chalantly watch Ron out of the corner of my eye. He pulls out, turns the corner and we wind our way into the traffic. He absently picks up his cup to take a drink, and his reaction is instantaneous. "Holy Hell!" he barks when the apparently unsugared Lemonade Kool Aid with extra lemon slice actually reaches his taste buds. The look on his face was priceless, a true Kodak moment missed and it made me laugh so hard I actually snorted, to which he gave me his scowly face look before laughing too.
Ron is not a kid person, but after riding with me over the years, he has come around to stopping for the kids. He knows it makes me smile and I enjoy stopping, but I secretly think he enjoys it too. It's one time that kids are thrilled to see us, when they are not screaming or scared or hurt and in pain. Seeing them like this does us good, and it's a good for kids to see us as regular people too, not just the people who come in an emergency. Puts a positive spin on life for all of us. Maybe the Kool Aid was sour enough to pucker your face off, but it was worth it just to make those kids smile.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Spoil Sport
Slow day at the FireHouse. It's Me, Chris, and 8 firemen (four with Engine, four with Ladder) for the afternoon. Station chores are done, vehicles are all stocked, washed, loaded and ready to roll, a mandatory Haz Mat video was watched (and hysterically mocked), some grilling was done out on the patio, people roam around and will randomly plunk down at the table to bs and harass each other for a while, then wander off again to lift weights, shoot hoops or find some way to occupy their time.
When the weather turned crappy, the boys from Ladder pulled up a shoot'em up kinda game on their computer. As guys will do when congregating in packs and competing against each other, things grew steadily louder. Taunts, yelling, laughing, and horseplay. I stopped in the bedroom doorway and watched them, rather amused. They explained how the game worked to me (pretty basic, you aim, and shoot to kill a pickpocketer of all things), so many points for missing the target and hitting civilians, so many more for maiming the bad guys (very funny as body parts would fly off and the crooks could still run around without their arms, legs and heads!) and of course super points for making the kill. Yes, we the "saviors" of our city are committing video murder. Go figure.
The game changes and new "rules" are made up. The more ridiculous the better. They decide that from now on, everybody has to shoot with their non-writing hand. By this time five guys are playing, and they egg me on to come join them. Come on Rox! We'll spot you points! Come on Rox! We'll even let you have a practice game! Come on!... Now tell me how can a lady refuse an offer like that? So I kick Doug out of his chair and fire up the game. The guys laugh and give me helpful "tips" as I get the hang of the game. Once that is done and I am "warmed up," things get serious. Behind me there is some arguing about who will kick who's ass, and bets are made (losers having to do various supper duties... cooking, clearing, washing and etc.) I bite. I am in.
The festivities begin. Chris roams by and takes up a spot in the doorway watching. When my turn comes up again I start to go to town racking up points like there is no tomorrow. It isn't long before I have eclipsed the previous high scorer, and not by a little, but a lot. The guys are floored by this, a girl is beating them at their own game! By the time we have all played I am declared winner, and bask in my glory. When I smile back at Chris I see him laughing and he has his eyebrow quirked in that way that tells me I am in trouble.
....."Of course she is gonna beat your sorry asses," he laughs.
....."Why?" they ask. "How would You know?"
....."Didn't she tell you? She's ambidexterous. She can write (and apparently SHOOT ) equally well with both hands!"
Half the town must have heard the resulting explosion when the guys found out they'd been had. Luckily I am quick AND cute, and managed to get past Chris before the boys could get a hold of me.
Yes they did forgive me. The guys would never REALLY hurt me, especially after I reminded them (while safely barricaded behind Chief's office door) that THEY had conned me into playing their silly game in the first place. Life in a FireHouse. Never a dull moment.
PS: The reason Chris my normally sweet partner and allie was a spoil sport and gave me up? Earlier in the day he and I were at the hospital, and as it happened, it was his 37th birthday. At lunch I brought out a cake, and everybody in the diningroom sang happy birthday to him. Afterward we clapped and I said to the crowd: "Doesn't he look great for just turning 50?" So yes, I probably did have it coming...
When the weather turned crappy, the boys from Ladder pulled up a shoot'em up kinda game on their computer. As guys will do when congregating in packs and competing against each other, things grew steadily louder. Taunts, yelling, laughing, and horseplay. I stopped in the bedroom doorway and watched them, rather amused. They explained how the game worked to me (pretty basic, you aim, and shoot to kill a pickpocketer of all things), so many points for missing the target and hitting civilians, so many more for maiming the bad guys (very funny as body parts would fly off and the crooks could still run around without their arms, legs and heads!) and of course super points for making the kill. Yes, we the "saviors" of our city are committing video murder. Go figure.
The game changes and new "rules" are made up. The more ridiculous the better. They decide that from now on, everybody has to shoot with their non-writing hand. By this time five guys are playing, and they egg me on to come join them. Come on Rox! We'll spot you points! Come on Rox! We'll even let you have a practice game! Come on!... Now tell me how can a lady refuse an offer like that? So I kick Doug out of his chair and fire up the game. The guys laugh and give me helpful "tips" as I get the hang of the game. Once that is done and I am "warmed up," things get serious. Behind me there is some arguing about who will kick who's ass, and bets are made (losers having to do various supper duties... cooking, clearing, washing and etc.) I bite. I am in.
The festivities begin. Chris roams by and takes up a spot in the doorway watching. When my turn comes up again I start to go to town racking up points like there is no tomorrow. It isn't long before I have eclipsed the previous high scorer, and not by a little, but a lot. The guys are floored by this, a girl is beating them at their own game! By the time we have all played I am declared winner, and bask in my glory. When I smile back at Chris I see him laughing and he has his eyebrow quirked in that way that tells me I am in trouble.
....."Of course she is gonna beat your sorry asses," he laughs.
....."Why?" they ask. "How would You know?"
....."Didn't she tell you? She's ambidexterous. She can write (and apparently SHOOT ) equally well with both hands!"
Half the town must have heard the resulting explosion when the guys found out they'd been had. Luckily I am quick AND cute, and managed to get past Chris before the boys could get a hold of me.
Yes they did forgive me. The guys would never REALLY hurt me, especially after I reminded them (while safely barricaded behind Chief's office door) that THEY had conned me into playing their silly game in the first place. Life in a FireHouse. Never a dull moment.
PS: The reason Chris my normally sweet partner and allie was a spoil sport and gave me up? Earlier in the day he and I were at the hospital, and as it happened, it was his 37th birthday. At lunch I brought out a cake, and everybody in the diningroom sang happy birthday to him. Afterward we clapped and I said to the crowd: "Doesn't he look great for just turning 50?" So yes, I probably did have it coming...
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Last Hope
There is a time and a place for everything on Earth; but right here, right now was not going to be one of those time because I won't let it be. This is why:
The 911 call came over late in the afternoon, 16 month old child non-responsive. These are the calls we dread the most. The knot in my stomach twists as Chris drives, sometimes no matter what we do, how fast we go, the drive seems never ending. Silence in the cab as we follow the chatter on the radio, voices coming over all of them identical in that sirens are screaming in their backgrounds as they run the same race we are. It does not matter who you are, which department you are from: FIRE, SO, PD, EMS, when you hear the kid calls you just GO...
Today a student nurse rides with us, she is in the back riding on the jumpseat and trying to absorb it all. When I glance back into the cabin I see that she has turned sideways in the seat so that she can watch out the front as we go. She seems to be hanging in there, not getting carsick which can happen from time to time if you are not use to this.
Pulling into the residential neighborhood I can see the distant flicker of lights from a fire engine heading toward us. Parked ahead helter skelter along the curb are two police cruisers: one black and white, the other from the county. Lights are on, doors not completely closed as their occupants left in a hurry. I unclip my seatbelt and ready myself for my own sprint, but as Chris pulls up we see the front door of the home swing open and out runs a Sheriff's Deputy with the infant in his arms heading straight for us. Chris climbs out to intercept, I grab equipment from the compartments on my side and run to open up the rear doors, tumbling in with Chris on my heels.
It isn't good. Chris and I go thru the motions, searching, trying to find some way somehow to revive the life in this child, but in our hearts we already know the truth. Regardless I bark commands and we are soon underway. Someone from FIRE drives our rig, the deputy leads the way thru traffic, and the police car follows. The student nurse is still with us, cardiac equipment has displaced her from her seat and she stands in the side stairwell safely out of the way. She still watches, not saying a word.
As the ambulance weaves thru traffic Chris and I continue CPR. I am physically up on the stretcher doing compressions, Chris is at my shoulder bagging. I hear the sound of his voice, inches from my ear, softly praying for this child and her family. This murmured sound is as familiar to me as anything we do, Chris and I are of the same mind and beliefs; which is partly why we work so well together. He isn't just praying for himself, he is praying on both of our behalves.
"She's dead isn't she?" the nursing student asks quietly, her face looking troubled. I look up at her now, we'd all but forgotten her in the course of things, she has watched closely and stayed out of the way during crisis which is just what every good nursing student should do. I nod my head and tilt it over to the bench seat that runs along the side of the rig. "Edie" moves off the steps and slides onto the seat beside us.
"When do you quit Rox? When do you call it over?"
The murmuring voice at my shoulder ceases. Chris is that close to me as we work together and I hear him give a sigh. "Trade places," I ask him never missing a beat. Chris moves in beside me to switch places. He positions and resumes where I left off, starting the set and picking up the count while I turn my attention to bagging, and back to Edie.
....."Yes, she is gone," I say sadly. "She has been for a while, nothing will change that."
....."Then why...?" Edie asks. "To save her organs for donation?"
....."That's always a possibility. There is something more important though."
Edie looks at me and I can see that she doesn't understand. Doesn't see...
....."Look over Chris's shoulder, out the back doors. Tell me what you see."
....."A police car."
....."Yes, and this little one's Mama is riding in that car. She is watching everything we do thru those back windows. She doesn't know what we know. She hopes and prays that we can save her baby... She is clutching that belief to her heart right now; we are her Last Hope and we are not going to take that away from her. The truth will come soon enough Edie, until that time we will keep that hope alive for her."
Edie nods in understanding and drops her head, looking away, perhaps trying to hide tears. Right now she does not quite get the full picture, the full scope of what working in the medical field means. This is a lesson not found in any textbook, its one that only time can teach. She rode with us today to learn but I know she never anticipated this. There is a hell of a lot more to it than being able to start a line on the fly, or quickly assess and treat on-scene. We don't just bandage and brace, sometimes we have to scoop and run as was the case today. Yes, we handle the needs of our patients, but we also must remember their families needs as well. It's a balancing act of sorts. In many people's minds they think that somone (us) will step in and save the day, that we can make everything right again. I wish it were that easy, that simple, and that the world really worked that way. Still amazes and sometimes scares me to think that people look to me to be that person for them. Me! Sometimes we succeed, sometimes we fail and nothing can change that fact. All we can do is our best, and never give up on hope.
When its all over, the run complete and the aftermath sorted out, Edie calls her instructor, and then begs off the rest of the day. It's okay we understand and yes, it's okay to cry too. We wish you good luck Edie, wherever you wind up. The lesson you learned with us today may have been the most important one yet. Someday you too will understand.
The 911 call came over late in the afternoon, 16 month old child non-responsive. These are the calls we dread the most. The knot in my stomach twists as Chris drives, sometimes no matter what we do, how fast we go, the drive seems never ending. Silence in the cab as we follow the chatter on the radio, voices coming over all of them identical in that sirens are screaming in their backgrounds as they run the same race we are. It does not matter who you are, which department you are from: FIRE, SO, PD, EMS, when you hear the kid calls you just GO...
Today a student nurse rides with us, she is in the back riding on the jumpseat and trying to absorb it all. When I glance back into the cabin I see that she has turned sideways in the seat so that she can watch out the front as we go. She seems to be hanging in there, not getting carsick which can happen from time to time if you are not use to this.
Pulling into the residential neighborhood I can see the distant flicker of lights from a fire engine heading toward us. Parked ahead helter skelter along the curb are two police cruisers: one black and white, the other from the county. Lights are on, doors not completely closed as their occupants left in a hurry. I unclip my seatbelt and ready myself for my own sprint, but as Chris pulls up we see the front door of the home swing open and out runs a Sheriff's Deputy with the infant in his arms heading straight for us. Chris climbs out to intercept, I grab equipment from the compartments on my side and run to open up the rear doors, tumbling in with Chris on my heels.
It isn't good. Chris and I go thru the motions, searching, trying to find some way somehow to revive the life in this child, but in our hearts we already know the truth. Regardless I bark commands and we are soon underway. Someone from FIRE drives our rig, the deputy leads the way thru traffic, and the police car follows. The student nurse is still with us, cardiac equipment has displaced her from her seat and she stands in the side stairwell safely out of the way. She still watches, not saying a word.
As the ambulance weaves thru traffic Chris and I continue CPR. I am physically up on the stretcher doing compressions, Chris is at my shoulder bagging. I hear the sound of his voice, inches from my ear, softly praying for this child and her family. This murmured sound is as familiar to me as anything we do, Chris and I are of the same mind and beliefs; which is partly why we work so well together. He isn't just praying for himself, he is praying on both of our behalves.
"She's dead isn't she?" the nursing student asks quietly, her face looking troubled. I look up at her now, we'd all but forgotten her in the course of things, she has watched closely and stayed out of the way during crisis which is just what every good nursing student should do. I nod my head and tilt it over to the bench seat that runs along the side of the rig. "Edie" moves off the steps and slides onto the seat beside us.
"When do you quit Rox? When do you call it over?"
The murmuring voice at my shoulder ceases. Chris is that close to me as we work together and I hear him give a sigh. "Trade places," I ask him never missing a beat. Chris moves in beside me to switch places. He positions and resumes where I left off, starting the set and picking up the count while I turn my attention to bagging, and back to Edie.
....."Yes, she is gone," I say sadly. "She has been for a while, nothing will change that."
....."Then why...?" Edie asks. "To save her organs for donation?"
....."That's always a possibility. There is something more important though."
Edie looks at me and I can see that she doesn't understand. Doesn't see...
....."Look over Chris's shoulder, out the back doors. Tell me what you see."
....."A police car."
....."Yes, and this little one's Mama is riding in that car. She is watching everything we do thru those back windows. She doesn't know what we know. She hopes and prays that we can save her baby... She is clutching that belief to her heart right now; we are her Last Hope and we are not going to take that away from her. The truth will come soon enough Edie, until that time we will keep that hope alive for her."
Edie nods in understanding and drops her head, looking away, perhaps trying to hide tears. Right now she does not quite get the full picture, the full scope of what working in the medical field means. This is a lesson not found in any textbook, its one that only time can teach. She rode with us today to learn but I know she never anticipated this. There is a hell of a lot more to it than being able to start a line on the fly, or quickly assess and treat on-scene. We don't just bandage and brace, sometimes we have to scoop and run as was the case today. Yes, we handle the needs of our patients, but we also must remember their families needs as well. It's a balancing act of sorts. In many people's minds they think that somone (us) will step in and save the day, that we can make everything right again. I wish it were that easy, that simple, and that the world really worked that way. Still amazes and sometimes scares me to think that people look to me to be that person for them. Me! Sometimes we succeed, sometimes we fail and nothing can change that fact. All we can do is our best, and never give up on hope.
When its all over, the run complete and the aftermath sorted out, Edie calls her instructor, and then begs off the rest of the day. It's okay we understand and yes, it's okay to cry too. We wish you good luck Edie, wherever you wind up. The lesson you learned with us today may have been the most important one yet. Someday you too will understand.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Soggy Cereal
This just made me laugh. An elderly woman came into Urgent Care today and this was the conversation that transpired:
Me: ... When did this all happen?
Granny: ... Yesterday morning.
Me: ... Okay and what symptoms were you experiencing Ma'am?
Granny: ... My cereal was all soggy.
Me: ... Pardon Ma'am?
Granny: .....I carried my cereal to the livingroom and put my bowl on my tray and sat down. Next thing I knew my head was all the way back against the cushions, and my cereal was soggy. I guess I poured the milk and must have gone out. When I sat up my cereal was all soggy and mushy. It was ruined, I must have been out for a long time! What do you think?...
Personally I am betting she just fell asleep, but you can't laugh and dismiss your patient's seriousness. Sometimes its hard to keep a straight face, especially when the doctor leans over and whispers: "I can't wait to see how you chart this one..." as he leaves the room.
Me: ... When did this all happen?
Granny: ... Yesterday morning.
Me: ... Okay and what symptoms were you experiencing Ma'am?
Granny: ... My cereal was all soggy.
Me: ... Pardon Ma'am?
Granny: .....I carried my cereal to the livingroom and put my bowl on my tray and sat down. Next thing I knew my head was all the way back against the cushions, and my cereal was soggy. I guess I poured the milk and must have gone out. When I sat up my cereal was all soggy and mushy. It was ruined, I must have been out for a long time! What do you think?...
Personally I am betting she just fell asleep, but you can't laugh and dismiss your patient's seriousness. Sometimes its hard to keep a straight face, especially when the doctor leans over and whispers: "I can't wait to see how you chart this one..." as he leaves the room.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Aging Gracefully
Another birthday came and went for me, and this one was a bit different. I am not a big birthday person, last year I got two cards, a lot of hugs and kisses, and not much more then that. That was fine, didn't matter to me. This year was very different. For reasons unknown everybody celebrated it. I wound up with three cakes, four parties, two lunches out, and some special gifts. This is unusual as normally all I get is harrassed, and one year the guys shrouded my office with a Happy Birthday banner and an entire case of toiletpaper.
This year the guys all chipped in and bought me a great pair of Lapis earrings to match a special necklace that I wear. It was a very personal gift, and they had actually put some thought into it. I've worn them ever since. The thoughtfullness behind them touches me, and thinking of the two guys that bought them standing at a jewlery counter doing this just for me makes me smile and I think it always will.
The other gift was from Chris. My birthday fell on a weekend, and when I came into my office after working 16 hours, I found a little card, the new Norah Jones CD with a little bow on it and a note from Chris. He told me to go enjoy the weekend, enjoy the CD and not to worry about work as he had taken over my On-Call duty for the duration.
Over the weekend the shit hit the fan, and twice I heard and saw one of our out-of-town based ambulances racing for town. That's never a good thing, when they are coming by my home it means they are trying to cover for someone as everyone else is out already.When that ambulance raced by my home at 4 am, I know I felt my hand twitch, felt the need to reach up and switch on my scanner to see what was happening, but instead I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. I know my partner, I trust his judgement, and if he really needs me he will call. I also need to practice letting go more. This was Chris's gift to me.
So here I am another year older and still trying to learn how to age gracefully.
This year the guys all chipped in and bought me a great pair of Lapis earrings to match a special necklace that I wear. It was a very personal gift, and they had actually put some thought into it. I've worn them ever since. The thoughtfullness behind them touches me, and thinking of the two guys that bought them standing at a jewlery counter doing this just for me makes me smile and I think it always will.
The other gift was from Chris. My birthday fell on a weekend, and when I came into my office after working 16 hours, I found a little card, the new Norah Jones CD with a little bow on it and a note from Chris. He told me to go enjoy the weekend, enjoy the CD and not to worry about work as he had taken over my On-Call duty for the duration.
Over the weekend the shit hit the fan, and twice I heard and saw one of our out-of-town based ambulances racing for town. That's never a good thing, when they are coming by my home it means they are trying to cover for someone as everyone else is out already.When that ambulance raced by my home at 4 am, I know I felt my hand twitch, felt the need to reach up and switch on my scanner to see what was happening, but instead I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. I know my partner, I trust his judgement, and if he really needs me he will call. I also need to practice letting go more. This was Chris's gift to me.
So here I am another year older and still trying to learn how to age gracefully.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Chivalry Isn't Dead
There is a footnote to the previous post, a small story within itself.
After everything and everyone was cleaned up once again, Ron went out in search of some clean clothes for me. Normally we keep extra duds and things on the rig for times such as these (they happen more often than you might think) but on this particular day we had taken a different ambulance and left our main one behind. This rig was not equipped with all the extras because it is not used very frequently, and that fact did not dawn on me until Ron returned and gave me a rather pitiful look. On his arm he carried his meager findings: a patient gown, a clean pair of scrub bottoms he had filched from somewhere that were at least two sizes too big for me and bore the hospital's name stamped on the thigh, and an old grungy turn out coat of Chris's that smelled strongly of smoke and had his name in reflective tape lettered across the back.
Over time I have learned to master my true inclinations, smile, and be gracious instead, which is exactly what I did here. Taking what Ron had found, and being happy to even have that, I went off to change and get the hell out of the smelly things I was currently wearing. When I stepped out of the bathroom in my new attire I looked very much like a kid playing dress-up in her mother's closet. The scrubs were way too big, Chris's turn out coat was even bigger and the gown I had on under the coat and had tucked into the scrub pants made me look a little like an escapee from psych ward. And this outfit was the lesser of the two evils!
Ron took one look at me, frowned, looked up and down the hallway then stepped back into the entryway of a nearby utility room. He tilted his head down and took a whiff of his armpit (as only guys will do) and satisfied with that he reached up and unclipped his badge and name bars. Without a second thought he unbuttoned his good workshirt, tugged it off and handed it to me, leaving him to wear the torn old ratty FIRE t-shirt he'd had on underneath.
Ron didn't blink, and I didn't hesitate to thank him and accept his offer.When I changed and reappeared again I looked and felt a lot more presentable and we left to go grab coffee and a meal while we waited for Gary.
So chivalry is not dead. In fact there are still a few people out there who will indeed give you the shirt right off their back.
After everything and everyone was cleaned up once again, Ron went out in search of some clean clothes for me. Normally we keep extra duds and things on the rig for times such as these (they happen more often than you might think) but on this particular day we had taken a different ambulance and left our main one behind. This rig was not equipped with all the extras because it is not used very frequently, and that fact did not dawn on me until Ron returned and gave me a rather pitiful look. On his arm he carried his meager findings: a patient gown, a clean pair of scrub bottoms he had filched from somewhere that were at least two sizes too big for me and bore the hospital's name stamped on the thigh, and an old grungy turn out coat of Chris's that smelled strongly of smoke and had his name in reflective tape lettered across the back.
Over time I have learned to master my true inclinations, smile, and be gracious instead, which is exactly what I did here. Taking what Ron had found, and being happy to even have that, I went off to change and get the hell out of the smelly things I was currently wearing. When I stepped out of the bathroom in my new attire I looked very much like a kid playing dress-up in her mother's closet. The scrubs were way too big, Chris's turn out coat was even bigger and the gown I had on under the coat and had tucked into the scrub pants made me look a little like an escapee from psych ward. And this outfit was the lesser of the two evils!
Ron took one look at me, frowned, looked up and down the hallway then stepped back into the entryway of a nearby utility room. He tilted his head down and took a whiff of his armpit (as only guys will do) and satisfied with that he reached up and unclipped his badge and name bars. Without a second thought he unbuttoned his good workshirt, tugged it off and handed it to me, leaving him to wear the torn old ratty FIRE t-shirt he'd had on underneath.
Ron didn't blink, and I didn't hesitate to thank him and accept his offer.When I changed and reappeared again I looked and felt a lot more presentable and we left to go grab coffee and a meal while we waited for Gary.
So chivalry is not dead. In fact there are still a few people out there who will indeed give you the shirt right off their back.
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