When The Whiskey Gets You.

This weekend, the Lieutenant and I attended a conference for us firefighter type folks. It was a pretty boring weekend but at least I learned a few things, but not from the conference. In order to make this easier upon myself (it is Monday after all), here is the comprehensive list.

1. Do NOT buy a large bottle of whiskey for your husband in an effort to be nice. It will come back to bite you in the ass.
2. When previously mentioned whiskey is consumed in large volumes in a short period of time, it makes sane people act like giant asses.
3. When staying in a hotel with other firefighters you know, do NOT tell them your room number. Apparently it is funny to bang on people's doors at 12am, 2am, 2:30am, 3:30am, 5am and finally 7am.
4. Hell hath no fury like a woman with a cold and no sleep.
5. Rookies don't know any better when you threaten to punch them in the testicles. This is what you get when you bang on my door when I am trying to sleep.
6. Adjoining rooms should never be used when attending such conferences.
7. Falling out of a vehicle because you are drunk, does not make you Spiderman. *glaring at the Lieutenant*
8.Throwing food around a restaurant is never acceptable. Ever. *starts boring holes in the Lieutenant's head*
9. Hang overs are a bummer. But they do not require any pity from me.
10. When I don't get sleep, I morph into a vindictive-super-bitch. Kind of like the Hulk, except without the green skin.

Needless to say, it was a rough one. I toughed it out until 11:30 Friday night with the Lieutenant and then falsely lured him to our room with my womanly she-powers. I didn't have to shut him down though, since he couldn't even get his boots off before he was snoring and drooling. Saturday night, I decided to partake myself. Enough with being the sober one.

I danced with random old men.
I was all sorts of redneck carrying my extra beer in my back pocket.
I flirted with the rent-a-cops.
I now have the nickname "HotAss". (I still don't recall where that one came from... but I do pride myself on my derriere.)

All those shenanigans sans a hangover. Others were not so lucky.

Now I am back at my desk and putting out 'fires' (no pun intended). Waiting on the phone call to tell me how I can improve my trainings. You know, better than they already are.

A favor, if you will.

My counter says people are visiting, but I don't know who you are. Feel free to leave a comment to let me know what you think or at least say hi.

I promise, I can handle the truth.

Tra la la la la.

I almost uttered that four letter S-word, which seems to bring my tiny little town imploding in on itself. I believe the last time I said that, it was only a matter of days until the Great Suicide Streak of 2007 started. You would think I would learn my lesson. To make matter worse, THAT dispatcher is on duty tonight - as am I. It never fails that she sends me out into the night to the most, um, mentally challenging of calls.

If I didn't know any better, I would think she has it out for me and PAYS people to do the stupid crap they do, spaced at the correct intervals so as soon as I get comfortable in my bed and feel sleep driftng int... WHAMO! Here is another one for YOU Bernice.

Tied with a pretty ribbon on top, or at least a sturdy rope.




OTHERWISE, feeling better today. Not by much, but it is an improvement.

That'll Do...

Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0 created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Captain Jack Sparrow Roguish,quick-witted, and incredibly lucky, Jack Sparrow is a pirate who sometimes ends up being a hero, against his better judgement. Captain Jack looks out for #1, but he can be counted on (usually) to do the right thing. He has an incredibly persuasive tongue, a mind that borders on genius or insanity, and an incredible talent for getting into trouble and getting out of it. Maybe its brains, maybe its genius, or maybe its just plain luck. Or maybe a mixture of all three. Captain Jack Sparrow 88% William Wallace 75% Maximus 71% Batman, the Dark Knight 71% The Amazing Spider-Man 63% Lara Croft 63% Indiana Jones 63% The Terminator 58% Neo, the "One" 58% James Bond, Agent 007 54% El Zorro 25%

Day 1

Well, actually it is day 1.5, but that is a moot point. Yesterday I started doing the Couch to 5K program. My goal is to run at least two road races this year. One in July and one in September.

I was very proud of myself that I made it through the first workout without vomiting. (This is just my 'thing' from my days of competitive running over 6 years ago. Never figured out why I actually do it...) Anywho, I also successfully wrangled both of my brothers to run with me. As we were stretching in my living room, my younger brother starts a rampant fit of giggles. Wanting to be in on the joke, I asked what was so hilarious. Before his brain to mouth filter could fully engage, he promptly told me that I had fat rolls on my stomach and it struck him as funny.

All I could do is stare at him.

Wow, thanks man. It's not like I DIDN'T realize that I was getting a little, uh, chubby. Why do you think I am getting back into running? Needless to say, any good feelings I had after my run were quickly dashed by his "joke".

And to think, I took up running to help with my mental health as well.

Super Funk

Every now and then, when the weather gets exrta dreary and the sun goes into hiding, I get in a funk. Not just any funk, but a funk that you can feel in your bones.

Today, seems to be the worst of all the days. I could recite to you forward and backwards the laundry list of complaints and worries and bore you for at least an hour or two. Today is the day when telling myself I should be thankful for all I have doesn't work anymore. The funny thing is, compared to this time LAST year, things are golden. I am not sleeping in a hospital recliner, waking every hour when the nurses come in to check on my husband. I am not counting pennies and living out of a vending machine to save the few we have left. I am not wondering if my husband will walk again, work again or be a firefighter again. I am not driving 200 miles a day to be all the places I need to be. All those questions have been answered.

So what is my problem? Life is good. The bills are getting paid, the pantry is full and for the most part, we both have a clean bill of health.

What is the magic key that is going to make things better? More sleep? Less time sitting at home alone? More time sitting at home alone? More projects? I really have no clue. The bottom line is, things may be okay, but I am not.

There is a first time for everything.

I did something last night. Something that wasn't so good, but oh so... so... liberating.

No, I didn't rip my bra from my chest, hold it high in my fist and curse Rodger Van Bradenhoozle for inventing the torturous devices. I simply flipped a button. One little button you say? Yes. I flipped a button and rolled over to return to my blissful cracked out dreams. Now you may be thinking this is no big deal to ignore a call, but this is a momentous moment for me.

My husband had just gotten home from his second shift job and consequently I had just fallen asleep after 3 hours of tossing and turning. He was kind enough to march in the bedroom and pronounce that we had a call and that he would be waiting in the truck. Unfortunately, I had already made up my mind that I was not going and he was the recipient of a few choice words. (Hey, in my defence, he was aware of the fact that I sprout horns and a pointy tail when I am tired BEFORE he married me.) Anyway, he somehow got the point that I would not be responding through the string of monosyllable words I was spitting at him through gritted teeth. And off he went to save the town, and off I went back to dream land... with my pager OFF. Off. Never ever ever have I turned the damned thing OFF. Usually I just silence the present call and stay available for the next one.

Even though it was quite liberating, I feel kind of, well, dirty. And sadly, still left wanting for toothpicks to keep my eyelids open. I guess as long as I don't make a habit of it, it isn't that bad... right?

Quotes that made me go, 'heh'

"Yeah, I called her up; she gave me a bunch of crap about me not listening to her or something. I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention." - Harry in Dumb and Dumber

"It is tact that is golden, not silence." Samuel Butler

"Respect is like air. You don't think about it until it's gone. Once it's gone - it's all you think about." Crucial Conversations (2004)

Enough.

We have all lost sight of why we are here. It isn't about the color of your helmet, or the color of your gear, or even the letters that go around your name. This department was about family. It was about helping our neighbors. It was about having a group of people, friends, that you could trust and count on.

There are so many that should be just plain old ashamed of themselves. Instead of teamwork, the strive for notoriety and how many people they have on their 'side'. Yes we all have out differences, but that is what makes this so special. It should all be left at the door.

Here we are a team.

The person sitting next to you, may one day be the difference between life and death. In that very moment, do you really think you will even consider who they voted for or what the disagreed with in the last meeting. If this is what your thoughts would be,m you need to get out. Get out now.

This is not a game. This is real life. Yes, life here has been tough lately, but instead of pulling together and coming up with logistical solutions, personal agendas have been made the priority. Common good has been igmored and forgotten. Egos thrive and comraderie is dead. Unless dramatic changes happen soon, I fear this department will fail and fail miserably.

Wake up, swallow your pride and lets get back to what we all came here for in the first place. It IS possible but it is going to take everyone. Good people are being trampled and bad mouthed. People you count on to be there for you when you need them the most. Don't be surprised when one day, they aren't there. When they couldn't take it anymore and left. Who then, will you rely on?

If we work together, we can become a team; become a family again. Spite and ego need to be let go and forgotten. The back-stabbing and trash-talking have to end. Soon, those that are willing to stand up for this department will lose the will to fight. Who will be left? No one. No one you can count on.

All you will be left with is a group of people who want nothing more than to scratch your eyes out, spit on your good name and be the first to stab you in the back.

What happened to 'we are brothers'? I see no brothers here.

MUST READ.

You need to read this and that is all there is to it. Just follow along with the links starting at the top and work your way down.

Cop On Scene

EMS Responds

In Small Town ER

Aftermath

For The Record

You are an asshole.

Sunday evening, my husband and I were about to sit down and enjoy or pretend-it's-summer meal, consisting of brats (the sausage, not the snot-nosed child), sauerkraut, baked beans and pasta salad when our pagers started vibrating. I just ignored it, thinking that it was 6:00 - normal time checks - but of course no such luck. With a heavy sigh and a select few words, we hauled our sad little faces out to the truck. At least it is a PI, right?

As we roll on scene, him in the engine and myself in the first response vehicle, we see two cars. One in the ditch, and one in the middle of the highway, extensive damage to both. Of course in the back of my mind, I get a little excited because who doesn't love a good PI? Anyway, I check vehicle #1, no patient. I walk over and check vehicle #2, no patient. Say it with me now... WTF?

Command acknowledges my look of confusion and hand gestures that accompany one's questioning of the whereabouts a missing patient, and points to the business just off the highway. I assume this is where my patients are hiding, er staying warm and trot over.

The ambulance was around the corner so I checked there. No EMTs and definitely no patients. Inside I see one young man laying flat on his back and white as Michael Jackson, about 18 other people standing around him, and two cops, trying to sort through the mass of people.

This is the part where I shine. Me and my big fat mouth. "If you were not DIRECTLY involved in this event or have super x-ray vision, please step outside... NOW!" Silence then the golden sound of shuffling feet. (This is a reason why if someone needs something from across the scene, they ask me to holler. I have skillz. Mad skillz.)

Package pt #1. No major damage, minor neck pain with a decent size piece of glass taking residence in the back of his noggin. Tra la la. Easy cheesy, right?

But wait, there is something missing... Think! Think! Think!

Two cars = at least two patients... Aha! Where the hell is the other patient?

I shall refer to pt #2 as Mr. Daniels. Mr. Jack Daniels to be exact because I hate the stuff and I hate it when patients run from the scene. After being apprehended and gently placed in the rear of the deputy's car, he is suddenly suffering from ball splitting shoulder pain. (Amazing how uncomfortable those pesky handcuffs can be.) He was transported to the hospital and also seen by the ER doc, but quickly released back into the custody of the PD.

So what is my point?
Pt #2 is an asshole. Why you ask. These are a few of my reasons.

Reason #1: He ran from an accident that HE CAUSED. That pisses me off. I now have to spend my time looking for your sorry ass when you clearly do not want my assistance.
Reason #2: You smell like you took a shower in three week old booze then rubbed some cigarette ashes in your hair then had sex with a dirty hooker. You stink. It's gross.
Reason #3: You are clearly drunk and all I get to say is 'suspected ETOH' when I want to say "this asshole just crossed the center line and caused a head on collision because he couldn't call a f*cking cab."
Reason #4: My dinner is now cold and I probably now being enjoyed by my dog.
Reason #5: Because I said so.

What time is it?

When all the world gets to shift their day to day by an hour, I get royally messed up. I am one of those people that their body doesn't really need a clock, it just KNOWS when it is time to sleep/eat/wake up/etc, so when you go and shift my world over by *thismuch* it messed with my internal functioning. It is like fumbling through a dark room you think you know perfectly, except someone moved the coffee table over 3 inches and WHAM! Now you have a reminder on your shin that the way you think it is, really isn't the way it actually is.

This is my day today. I think I should be someone's science project. This is a new level of b!tch, even for me. And THAT, my firends, is impressive.

Thanks, but no thanks.

Some helpful hints for our "customers".

1. I truly appreciate a porch light on, a wave from the driveway or a flashlight beam to signal which house and or driveway I need to be headed towards. But for the love of Pete, please do not stand in the middle of the road wearing the darkest shades of black you own in order to get my attention. Not only does it scare the shit out of me, but I am sure you might end up with a skid mark of your own in your underoos.

2. Grabbing at my clothes and dragging me is not going to get you anywhere. If anything, it is going to really piss me off and I am going to deem the scene unsafe and leave to stage until a police officer arrives to keep you under control. I understand you are scared for your loved one, but yanking me around by the back of my shirt is not going to get me to hurry towards your house.

3. If you don't know what that "thing" is that I am pulling out of my bag, ask. I will gladly explain an oxygen cylinder to you. I promise it is not a time capsule in which I will place your wife's brains in order to send to my martian buddies on Jupiter.

4. If you don't know how to work it, don't touch it. You have now just disassembled the regulator on my O2 tank. I meant it when I told you that you shouldn't touch it. All I had to do, was turn one dial (coincidentally, the one thing you didn't completely unscrew) and viola! Oxygen! Now I have to waste 5 more minutes putting the damn thing back together.

5. If the rescue squad has already left, it is too late to change your mind. Grandma Goodcookie is already on her way to the hospital. We will not "just pull over" and do a little switcheroo so you can take her instead.

6. Do not hug me. I barely hug my relatives let alone strangers.

7. Please lock Kujo up before I get to your door. I will not come in your house until you do so. Especially when said dog just bit off your daughters nose.

8. Just because your fancy schmancy wrist BP cuff you got off a late night infomercial says you don't have a blood pressure, doesn't mean you really don't have one. Trust me, if you can sit and talk to me, you have some sort of pressure.

Shut yer yapper!

Saturday night, in the heat of a passionate venting session, I opened my big fat mouth and said “It’s not like I have been on any calls anyway.” Let me assure you, what you are thinking is exactly what happened.

The first tones went off about 7:30am. An elderly man was transported non-emergent to the hospital. Consequently, our backup squad was called to pick him up from the hospital as our first one was backing into the bay. Nice. Thankfully, that was not me who had to go pick him up and I enjoyed a nice breakfast with a friend (and sank an nice 18 on the first shot).

The second set went off about, oh I’d say half past inhaling my lunch. Damn. Off I go. Same campus, different facility. Again, I got out of transporting and instead did some paperwork that had been backlogged back at the station. I also discovered that our first responder unit was running solely on battery power as the alternator was d-e-d. As in, too late to call the priest, he’s already gone, dead.

After that debacle it was about dinner time. Off to a local establishment where I was enjoying my bacon cheeseburger and seasoned waffle fries. Finish that off with my ice cold coke. It was a little piece of heaven for a moment. Alas, call #3. Unknown medical. Apparently, they forgot the medical term for no pulse.

This call included:
1: “stretcher surfing” by yours truly, which I must say sucks. If you do intend to do this, do not raise the stretcher so high that the surfer has to stand on their tippy toes on a 2” rail. Good thing my mad gymnastic skillz from high school helped me maintain my balance.
2: Becoming the recipient of the largest bruise I have ever had which coincidentally now resides on my left butt cheek as that was the side that hit the doorway at mach-code.
3: Copious amount of vomit. Better yet, un-Earthly amounts of vomit which resembled tomato soup made with milk, with melted cheese and soggy saltine crackers. I am gagging as I type this.
4: A paramedic yelling “For the love of God, stop compressions.” See #3.
5: And of course, my first termination en-route to the hospital.

The termination is the tricky part. The family was insisting there were DNR orders. No bracelet and no paperwork = we work them. That is just the way it is. The facility denied any paperwork, the family (who were pissed as hell) were demanding that efforts be stopped. So through the chain of Guardian #2 to Guardian #1 to ER Doc to ER Nurse to paramedic it got relayed that we should cease and desist. And that we did. Needless to say, the family was PISSED that we even started. The ER doc took at least 30 minutes to explain to them state laws and DNR orders.

Just as I get home and turn on my shower, call #4 comes out. I have a little PSA to go with this, but that will be another time.

Needless to say, I now intend to carry a roll of duct tape with me at all times. I seriously need to learn to shut my mouth.