Naked Twister and the potential for getting pink eye.
Think about it.
Much straining, awkward positions and the possibility of your eye being in the direct path...
Say it with me now folks... ew.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Real life nightmare
From Sam's question "What's one thing you just can't forget?"
*bzzzzt* *bzzzzt* *bzzzzt*
The thick fog that slowed thoughts clung tightly to my brain as I tried to identify where the noise was coming from. Picking up my phone, I was momentarily blinded by the blue light that revealed a number I had never seen. Even though I recognized the area code, I could not for the life of me, ascertain who the hell would be calling me at such an hour.
"Hello?" I croaked, my voice still thick with sleep.
"Don't freak out. He's fine."
"What?!" I shouted as I sat straight up in bed, the chill of my bedroom hitting my body as the air was simultaneously sucked from my chest.
I didn't know who's phone was calling, but that was Rick on the other end. One sentence delivered a sucker punch to my gut that made my mouth water and gave me the urge to run for the toilet.
"We had a little accident."
"What kind of accident? Is everyone okay? What happened? What's hurt? Where are you?"
All of the questions tumbled out of my mouth as if it weren't even part of my body. My mind was already outlining a scenario that did not end well for me, or the Lieutenant.
"I don't know."
I stared dumbly at the phone. That was all he could tell me? I tried to figure out exactly what was 'hurt' but Rick could not offer me much more info than that. All he could confirm was the Lieutenant was at the hospital and they would call me back as soon as they knew what was wrong. Everyone else escaped unscathed.
I hung up the phone as the tears pierced my eyes. I didn't know what to say, what to think. I dialed the phone, my mother's voice filled my ear and all I could do was sob. Fear, pain, worry, anger, love and every thing in between filled me and poured out my eyes. My hands shook as I ran for the bathroom. I sobbed and screamed as I clung to the bowl as if I were drowning.
All I could do was sit. Sit and wait.
I moved about the house waiting for the phone to ring. The dogs barking woke me from my trance. My parents came over. And still, I waited.
The house got cleaned, the laundry washed and folded, the dishes were cycled through both sinks and finally assulted with a dish towel and put away. I was insistent on controling something, anything.
And then the news.
Both legs broken, he is in a lot of pain and they are arranging for the long drive home. That was when I called his parents. His dad was up north and couldn't understand me very well with the bad cell area. His mom started crying as I figured she would. I lied and assured her it wasn't a big deal.
That was the first of many lies I would tell in the next eight days. Little did I know, it would affect our lives for much, much longer.
*bzzzzt* *bzzzzt* *bzzzzt*
The thick fog that slowed thoughts clung tightly to my brain as I tried to identify where the noise was coming from. Picking up my phone, I was momentarily blinded by the blue light that revealed a number I had never seen. Even though I recognized the area code, I could not for the life of me, ascertain who the hell would be calling me at such an hour.
"Hello?" I croaked, my voice still thick with sleep.
"Don't freak out. He's fine."
"What?!" I shouted as I sat straight up in bed, the chill of my bedroom hitting my body as the air was simultaneously sucked from my chest.
I didn't know who's phone was calling, but that was Rick on the other end. One sentence delivered a sucker punch to my gut that made my mouth water and gave me the urge to run for the toilet.
"We had a little accident."
"What kind of accident? Is everyone okay? What happened? What's hurt? Where are you?"
All of the questions tumbled out of my mouth as if it weren't even part of my body. My mind was already outlining a scenario that did not end well for me, or the Lieutenant.
"I don't know."
I stared dumbly at the phone. That was all he could tell me? I tried to figure out exactly what was 'hurt' but Rick could not offer me much more info than that. All he could confirm was the Lieutenant was at the hospital and they would call me back as soon as they knew what was wrong. Everyone else escaped unscathed.
I hung up the phone as the tears pierced my eyes. I didn't know what to say, what to think. I dialed the phone, my mother's voice filled my ear and all I could do was sob. Fear, pain, worry, anger, love and every thing in between filled me and poured out my eyes. My hands shook as I ran for the bathroom. I sobbed and screamed as I clung to the bowl as if I were drowning.
All I could do was sit. Sit and wait.
I moved about the house waiting for the phone to ring. The dogs barking woke me from my trance. My parents came over. And still, I waited.
The house got cleaned, the laundry washed and folded, the dishes were cycled through both sinks and finally assulted with a dish towel and put away. I was insistent on controling something, anything.
And then the news.
Both legs broken, he is in a lot of pain and they are arranging for the long drive home. That was when I called his parents. His dad was up north and couldn't understand me very well with the bad cell area. His mom started crying as I figured she would. I lied and assured her it wasn't a big deal.
That was the first of many lies I would tell in the next eight days. Little did I know, it would affect our lives for much, much longer.
That Sam-a-lama
I'm talking about this Sam, the one I know you all love as much I as do. Well she is playing along and asked me a few questions. Thanks again for helping me fill my Friday! :o)
If money were no limit, I think I would need a whole different house just for my shoes. Not only am I addicted to heels, any pair of running shoes that make my feet comfy are whisked away to my closet. There are FAR too many cute shoes in this world. Just don't click here...
Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 20?
Besides being happy with a closet full of cute shoes?
I can tell you that if you asked me this question five years ago, I would have never guessed I would be right here and I'm sure that applies to me today as I look ahead and guess as to what my future holds.
Actually, I have been sitting here thinking about what my life will be like in five years. I will definitely still be in Podunk Town loving every minute with the Lieutenant, but honestly, the only thing I can think about is having children of our own screaming, yelling, torturing the dogs and making my heart smile.
Five years ago, I would have thought I would have at least two kids by now, be staying at home with them and driving my mini van to play dates and soccer practice. The amount that I have changed mentally and physically in the last five years really makes me wonder truly where I will be five years from today. If I close my eyes and let my mind go, this is what I see. I don't think it is actually an exact five year time slot, but it is in the ballpark.
I lay in bed and listen to the giggles coming from down the hall. I contemplate cereal or pancakes for breakfast and quickly dismiss the sticky mess that would end up on the school clothes. Stretching and yawning, I throw the blanket back and head out of the room. The squeals of delight intensify as I hear the Lieutenant's laughter join the giggles. The Little Man is standing on his bed in his footie PJs as he bravely puts out the fire in the closet; his daddy backing him up as the second man on the line. His younger sister coos and drools happily as she sucks on her fingers in her crib. I laugh as I sternly play Chief and send my firefighters to rehab, also known as the breakfast table. I scoop up the happy baby only to be greeted with a full diaper. After a quick change, we head to the kitchen to find the Lieutenant showing the Little Man proper parking techniques with all the toy trucks that have ended up on the table.
The cereal is poured and eaten and faces are cleaned. The morning routine is hectic but it is MY morning routine. We all kiss daddy goodbye as he heads out to the field. Clothes are put on, the school bag is packed. We make our way across the proch to start the walk to the bus. Knowing we are a little behind, I make a game of racing down the gravel driveway. I smother the Little Man in kisses and wave as his clumbsily climbs the steps onto the bus. I watch as he runs down the isle to sit in his usual seat. We head back to the house to clean up breakfast and finish our day.
As for 20 years from now, a shorter version... still insanely in love with the Lieutenant, if not more than the day that I married him with the prospect of my kids starting the next phases of their lives. Encouraging them to chase their dreams, no matter how out of reach they seem.
JUST GO TO NURSING SCHOOL IF YOU WANT TO! ;o) Heh.
Actually, this includes Sam's question of "What's the #1 thing you want to do in your life?" I can say easily that I want to be a mom. Since I was little, all I ever wanted to do was be a mom. For a short while, I got to fill that role. Even though T-bird wasn't biologically my child, he had my heart. To this day, a little piece of it is still out there, somewhere, walking this Earth without a clue that someone he barely remembers anymore, loves him this much.
And now that I am a little sad remembering T-bird...
What gets you out of a bad mood?
Which is actually kind of funny that you asked, you know, since I have been a black cloud of crank lately. Really, I am such a finicky person, what works one day, doesn't the next. I must say though, that I LOVE when you can ride in the car, windows down with the sun out, the breeze in your hair and this song on the radio. Complete the moment by sticking your hand out the window and "riding" the wind.
Thanks Sam for the great questions. It was fun thinking about all of them and all the possibilites the future holds!
If money were no limit, I think I would need a whole different house just for my shoes. Not only am I addicted to heels, any pair of running shoes that make my feet comfy are whisked away to my closet. There are FAR too many cute shoes in this world. Just don't click here...
Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 20?
Besides being happy with a closet full of cute shoes?
I can tell you that if you asked me this question five years ago, I would have never guessed I would be right here and I'm sure that applies to me today as I look ahead and guess as to what my future holds.
Actually, I have been sitting here thinking about what my life will be like in five years. I will definitely still be in Podunk Town loving every minute with the Lieutenant, but honestly, the only thing I can think about is having children of our own screaming, yelling, torturing the dogs and making my heart smile.
Five years ago, I would have thought I would have at least two kids by now, be staying at home with them and driving my mini van to play dates and soccer practice. The amount that I have changed mentally and physically in the last five years really makes me wonder truly where I will be five years from today. If I close my eyes and let my mind go, this is what I see. I don't think it is actually an exact five year time slot, but it is in the ballpark.
I lay in bed and listen to the giggles coming from down the hall. I contemplate cereal or pancakes for breakfast and quickly dismiss the sticky mess that would end up on the school clothes. Stretching and yawning, I throw the blanket back and head out of the room. The squeals of delight intensify as I hear the Lieutenant's laughter join the giggles. The Little Man is standing on his bed in his footie PJs as he bravely puts out the fire in the closet; his daddy backing him up as the second man on the line. His younger sister coos and drools happily as she sucks on her fingers in her crib. I laugh as I sternly play Chief and send my firefighters to rehab, also known as the breakfast table. I scoop up the happy baby only to be greeted with a full diaper. After a quick change, we head to the kitchen to find the Lieutenant showing the Little Man proper parking techniques with all the toy trucks that have ended up on the table.
The cereal is poured and eaten and faces are cleaned. The morning routine is hectic but it is MY morning routine. We all kiss daddy goodbye as he heads out to the field. Clothes are put on, the school bag is packed. We make our way across the proch to start the walk to the bus. Knowing we are a little behind, I make a game of racing down the gravel driveway. I smother the Little Man in kisses and wave as his clumbsily climbs the steps onto the bus. I watch as he runs down the isle to sit in his usual seat. We head back to the house to clean up breakfast and finish our day.
As for 20 years from now, a shorter version... still insanely in love with the Lieutenant, if not more than the day that I married him with the prospect of my kids starting the next phases of their lives. Encouraging them to chase their dreams, no matter how out of reach they seem.
JUST GO TO NURSING SCHOOL IF YOU WANT TO! ;o) Heh.
Actually, this includes Sam's question of "What's the #1 thing you want to do in your life?" I can say easily that I want to be a mom. Since I was little, all I ever wanted to do was be a mom. For a short while, I got to fill that role. Even though T-bird wasn't biologically my child, he had my heart. To this day, a little piece of it is still out there, somewhere, walking this Earth without a clue that someone he barely remembers anymore, loves him this much.
And now that I am a little sad remembering T-bird...
What gets you out of a bad mood?
Which is actually kind of funny that you asked, you know, since I have been a black cloud of crank lately. Really, I am such a finicky person, what works one day, doesn't the next. I must say though, that I LOVE when you can ride in the car, windows down with the sun out, the breeze in your hair and this song on the radio. Complete the moment by sticking your hand out the window and "riding" the wind.
Thanks Sam for the great questions. It was fun thinking about all of them and all the possibilites the future holds!
Thursday, May 29, 2008
I'm Feeling Frisky
In an effort to get some of you readers to comment... Here is your once in a lifetime chance to ask me something. I will answer if I feel I want to! Ha! Kidding.
No really, I need something to talk about and distract me. I am in super over analyze mode and I need to not be.
I know you are all up to the task...
No really, I need something to talk about and distract me. I am in super over analyze mode and I need to not be.
I know you are all up to the task...
Weakness
I love shoes.
I made that perfectly clear last night as I danced around my living room just because the FedEx delivered my brand new shoes.
I swear to you, it was like Christmas. Four new pairs of shoes and I had no idea which ones to put on first.
I danced. I sang. I think I even frightened the dogs.
And then I cooked dinner in my new red patent leather mary jane heels.
You know you are super jealous.
Edit: Here is the shoe for today. (I am starting to realize that you people see my feet a lot. Sorry about that - but at least my toes are covered this time!)
I made that perfectly clear last night as I danced around my living room just because the FedEx delivered my brand new shoes.
I swear to you, it was like Christmas. Four new pairs of shoes and I had no idea which ones to put on first.
I danced. I sang. I think I even frightened the dogs.
And then I cooked dinner in my new red patent leather mary jane heels.
You know you are super jealous.
Edit: Here is the shoe for today. (I am starting to realize that you people see my feet a lot. Sorry about that - but at least my toes are covered this time!)
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Infomercials by Gunther.
In regards to the Autopulse...
"I want to get one of those as a sex toy."
*blank stare from me*
"That way I can go longer because it will do all the work for me. Just squeeze her in there with me, then set it, and forget it!"
"I want to get one of those as a sex toy."
*blank stare from me*
"That way I can go longer because it will do all the work for me. Just squeeze her in there with me, then set it, and forget it!"
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Holy crap!
I am feeling the love here people. Well that is if my little counter is not of the lying sort. Seriously... awesome.
I have nothing intertaining to share at this point in time, but then again my morning coffee hasn't quite kicked me in the pants yet. Perhaps I will have something relatively important to say as the day goes on.
I have nothing intertaining to share at this point in time, but then again my morning coffee hasn't quite kicked me in the pants yet. Perhaps I will have something relatively important to say as the day goes on.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Stupid everything...
Once upon a time, Bernice had some mad skillz with a needle. And then one day she didn't. Gone. Poof. Disappeared. MIA.
Seriously... I am starting to wonder if I could hit the broad side of a barn with a 22g. Blah.
In other news, gearing up for an insane weekend. Lots of places to be and lots of people to see. Except Monday. Monday the Lieutenant and I are going into hiding and we're not coming out until we feel like it.
Seriously... I am starting to wonder if I could hit the broad side of a barn with a 22g. Blah.
In other news, gearing up for an insane weekend. Lots of places to be and lots of people to see. Except Monday. Monday the Lieutenant and I are going into hiding and we're not coming out until we feel like it.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Can I have one?
Recently, there was a bit of a call war going on between the Lieutenant and Gunther and somehow I got stuck in the middle...
Gunther works with us on Saturdays and usually he brings something tasty to grill for lunch. Well, the Lieutenant thought it would be funny to speculate the odds of us getting an EMS call right before the grilling was to be completed. It does not take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened next. Yep, had a call... a code even. Since I am such a nice person, I decided I would take over the grilling duties since I had just gotten off of work and needed to do some paperwork at the station anyway.
As we all sat down to eat, Gunther puts down his brat (the edible kind, not the child kind) and stares straight at the Lieutenant and wishes hell and brimstone in the form of a structure fire. We laugh, we cried and then we waited for the tones.
Nada.
The Lieutenant and I headed on home and started cleaning the house and doing Saturday chores. Just as I turned the hot water on... you guessed it... beep beep beep... attached garage on fire.
Rat bastard.
Thankfully the homeowners channeled their inner fireman and put most of it out before we got there. Gunther and the Lieutenant couldn't resist mentioning the irony. I vowed to kick both of them in the face if there was another call. That's when Gunther asked me what I would do if he said the magic words...
I turned... I glared... and I informed him I don't get even, I get ahead.
*blink blink*
He just stared at me like I just offered a lap dance and commenced a red-faced fit of hysterical laughter. Apparently, he heard... I don't get even, I give head.
Uh... yeah. Not quite the same my friend.
I'm not sure where the communication broke down. Either I need to enunciate better or Gunther needs to channel all incoming conversation through the brain upstairs and not the little one downstairs.
Either way, that phrase is now added to the Things You Shouldn't Say On Scene list. Oops.
Gunther works with us on Saturdays and usually he brings something tasty to grill for lunch. Well, the Lieutenant thought it would be funny to speculate the odds of us getting an EMS call right before the grilling was to be completed. It does not take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened next. Yep, had a call... a code even. Since I am such a nice person, I decided I would take over the grilling duties since I had just gotten off of work and needed to do some paperwork at the station anyway.
As we all sat down to eat, Gunther puts down his brat (the edible kind, not the child kind) and stares straight at the Lieutenant and wishes hell and brimstone in the form of a structure fire. We laugh, we cried and then we waited for the tones.
Nada.
The Lieutenant and I headed on home and started cleaning the house and doing Saturday chores. Just as I turned the hot water on... you guessed it... beep beep beep... attached garage on fire.
Rat bastard.
Thankfully the homeowners channeled their inner fireman and put most of it out before we got there. Gunther and the Lieutenant couldn't resist mentioning the irony. I vowed to kick both of them in the face if there was another call. That's when Gunther asked me what I would do if he said the magic words...
I turned... I glared... and I informed him I don't get even, I get ahead.
*blink blink*
He just stared at me like I just offered a lap dance and commenced a red-faced fit of hysterical laughter. Apparently, he heard... I don't get even, I give head.
Uh... yeah. Not quite the same my friend.
I'm not sure where the communication broke down. Either I need to enunciate better or Gunther needs to channel all incoming conversation through the brain upstairs and not the little one downstairs.
Either way, that phrase is now added to the Things You Shouldn't Say On Scene list. Oops.
Monday, May 19, 2008
A Real Head Case.
Everyone in this world has something they fear. Some of us can talk ourselves through an exposure and some of us will just wet ourselves and cry like a little girl. I can proudly stake claim in both categories.
My top three fears are:
clowns
heights
snakes
Two of these I can deal with and keep some of my dignity and walk away, even if I do seem to be a clown magnet. The third however, reduces me to a puddle of sobs, urine and vomit.
Exhibit A:
I was mowing the lawn at my parents house and ran over snake, chopping it into several bloody squirming pieces of nastiness. (My toes are actually curling as I type this and my stomach is churning thinking about it.) It took Rick at least 5 minutes to realize there was an issue and come over to pry my fingers from the handle of the mower and literally drag me away. To this day, I have yet to mow the front lawn again.
Exhibit B:
One of the FT-ers had a giant, nasty, disgusting, filthy snake skin (here come the goosebumps) at the station yesterday. As I was walking in to the meeting room, there he was, arms outstretched showing off the remnants of his precious pet's skin. *Shudder* I immediately spun on my heel, sputtered out several four letter words, maybe even some I never knew existed and got the hell out of dodge. When I returned and headed to the kitchen, I screamed and jumped about 5 feet in the air. Why? Because I was "saw" a snake. THIS is what it really was.
I am almost positive that I will be finding rubber snakes in various places throughout the station. My locker, my gear, my jump kit... But then again, I don't get even, I get ahead. Which reminds me...
My top three fears are:
Two of these I can deal with and keep some of my dignity and walk away, even if I do seem to be a clown magnet. The third however, reduces me to a puddle of sobs, urine and vomit.
Exhibit A:
I was mowing the lawn at my parents house and ran over snake, chopping it into several bloody squirming pieces of nastiness. (My toes are actually curling as I type this and my stomach is churning thinking about it.) It took Rick at least 5 minutes to realize there was an issue and come over to pry my fingers from the handle of the mower and literally drag me away. To this day, I have yet to mow the front lawn again.
Exhibit B:
One of the FT-ers had a giant, nasty, disgusting, filthy snake skin (here come the goosebumps) at the station yesterday. As I was walking in to the meeting room, there he was, arms outstretched showing off the remnants of his precious pet's skin. *Shudder* I immediately spun on my heel, sputtered out several four letter words, maybe even some I never knew existed and got the hell out of dodge. When I returned and headed to the kitchen, I screamed and jumped about 5 feet in the air. Why? Because I was "saw" a snake. THIS is what it really was.
I am almost positive that I will be finding rubber snakes in various places throughout the station. My locker, my gear, my jump kit... But then again, I don't get even, I get ahead. Which reminds me...
Friday, May 16, 2008
My Jo
She is the best friend ever to be found
She's fun and she sassy
She has quite the chassis
And always keeps my feet to the ground
Congratulations again on finishing school Jo!
I am SO very proud of you.
As always, thanks for just being you.
Much love,
B
And welcome to the circle of trust. ;o)
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Personal Medic
Okay, folks, sing with me now... how much is that medic in the window, Whoop whoop...
Or not, that's cool too.
Since I became an EMT, my family has relied on me more often than before, for cuts, scrapes, random bruises and strange illnesses. Apparently I am also part doctor. (Don't worry, I am just as frightened at the thought of that as you!) Last night was no exception.
As I was returning from a run, my cell phone rang. Seeing it was my sister, I answered thinking she was going to make plans for watching AI. (Shut up! You know you watch it too!) Boy howdy was I wrong. I was informed that my nephew, at the ripe old age of three, had slammed his finger in the door and it looked pretty bad.
Now, you need to understand that my sister is not one for blood and gore. Sure, she can birth three babies, but the sight of blood or little flaps of detatched skin turns her into the worlds biggest fainting barf bag ever. Fortunately, my mother, my dear mother, who can handle basically anything with a calm and collected demeanor (except her daughter getting an epidural) was present to take care of the little guy. I grabbed Will (who now can share the duty of family triage) and we headed over. There was little Davey all curled up in a ball on Grammy's lap, his right hand being devoured by a dishtowel that was releasing the melting ice cubes in a slow steady drip down Grammy's nice, white shirt. Of course this was also mixed with some sand and blood.
When he saw me, he instantly knew why I was there and well, got a little nervous. Curbing my humor, I decided I probably shouldn't tell him we could always just cut it off... instead he was handed a popcicle and I started my investigation. As it turns out, he split his finger from just the outside of his nail bed, diagonally down to the other side of his finger. Basically, the top of his finger was now just a little flap of skin, sand and fingernail. *Shudder* It looked like it hurt, but he was being a trooper. I suggested since it was so deep that they go to urgent care and get an x-ray to make sure the rest of his finger was all well and good.
As it turns out, no broken bones, no stitches needed as it was so far cut that they just figured it would fall off and he would start the process of growing a new nail and skin back. So, tonight I start my mission to find some Transformer bandaids as I promised him. I certainly hope they make them, or Cars bandaids because the poor kid just needs some awesome bandaids. You know they make owies feel better just by being so freaking cool.
Kind of like when the kid from the circus (that was stationed at my parent's house) took a billy goat horn to the face... but that is another post for another day.
Or not, that's cool too.
Since I became an EMT, my family has relied on me more often than before, for cuts, scrapes, random bruises and strange illnesses. Apparently I am also part doctor. (Don't worry, I am just as frightened at the thought of that as you!) Last night was no exception.
As I was returning from a run, my cell phone rang. Seeing it was my sister, I answered thinking she was going to make plans for watching AI. (Shut up! You know you watch it too!) Boy howdy was I wrong. I was informed that my nephew, at the ripe old age of three, had slammed his finger in the door and it looked pretty bad.
Now, you need to understand that my sister is not one for blood and gore. Sure, she can birth three babies, but the sight of blood or little flaps of detatched skin turns her into the worlds biggest fainting barf bag ever. Fortunately, my mother, my dear mother, who can handle basically anything with a calm and collected demeanor (except her daughter getting an epidural) was present to take care of the little guy. I grabbed Will (who now can share the duty of family triage) and we headed over. There was little Davey all curled up in a ball on Grammy's lap, his right hand being devoured by a dishtowel that was releasing the melting ice cubes in a slow steady drip down Grammy's nice, white shirt. Of course this was also mixed with some sand and blood.
When he saw me, he instantly knew why I was there and well, got a little nervous. Curbing my humor, I decided I probably shouldn't tell him we could always just cut it off... instead he was handed a popcicle and I started my investigation. As it turns out, he split his finger from just the outside of his nail bed, diagonally down to the other side of his finger. Basically, the top of his finger was now just a little flap of skin, sand and fingernail. *Shudder* It looked like it hurt, but he was being a trooper. I suggested since it was so deep that they go to urgent care and get an x-ray to make sure the rest of his finger was all well and good.
As it turns out, no broken bones, no stitches needed as it was so far cut that they just figured it would fall off and he would start the process of growing a new nail and skin back. So, tonight I start my mission to find some Transformer bandaids as I promised him. I certainly hope they make them, or Cars bandaids because the poor kid just needs some awesome bandaids. You know they make owies feel better just by being so freaking cool.
Kind of like when the kid from the circus (that was stationed at my parent's house) took a billy goat horn to the face... but that is another post for another day.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
All bad.
I have nothing good to say. While I know I have so much to be thankful for, I am fed up and I just don't have the energy to pretend I am chipper and content... cause I am burned the fuck out.
So I will spare you another long, drawn out whiney post and just leave it at that.
So I will spare you another long, drawn out whiney post and just leave it at that.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Wow... feel the love.
So my she-lover Jo (not really, she is just the shiznit) and I teamed up to kick some serious fireman ass in the local horseshoe league. This Friday we will begin our legacy as the hottest and most talented She-Throwers evah. Unfortunately for me, Jo will be absent this first day. While this makes me very sad, I decided to buck up and attempt to find someone to fill in. I have asked 7 different people.
SEVEN!
1. I have drill.
2. That's days away! I don't know what I'm doing.
3. I have to work.
4. Ha ha... no.
5. I don't throw things.
6. I suck so you don't want me.
7. Not with you.
The last one was particularly awesome.
So not only do I feel like last weeks garbage that was undesireable to start with, but now is just a rotting pile of oozing stench that no one wants to even pity. I'm wondering if I can just throw for both of us, because I think that is what it is coming down to.
In other news, I may need to rip my spine from my body. Something is doing the Tango on my sciatic nerve and therefore my left buttcheek might explode. KABOOM! I seriously need to get my ass back on track with the running and pilates. After all, bikini season is right around the corner, and honestly cottage cheese is only good in Orange Fluff.
SEVEN!
1. I have drill.
2. That's days away! I don't know what I'm doing.
3. I have to work.
4. Ha ha... no.
5. I don't throw things.
6. I suck so you don't want me.
7. Not with you.
The last one was particularly awesome.
So not only do I feel like last weeks garbage that was undesireable to start with, but now is just a rotting pile of oozing stench that no one wants to even pity. I'm wondering if I can just throw for both of us, because I think that is what it is coming down to.
In other news, I may need to rip my spine from my body. Something is doing the Tango on my sciatic nerve and therefore my left buttcheek might explode. KABOOM! I seriously need to get my ass back on track with the running and pilates. After all, bikini season is right around the corner, and honestly cottage cheese is only good in Orange Fluff.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Weekend Recap
Good Monday Morning, or just Monday Morning, whichever is more appropriate. My weekend was a whirlwind and therefore to make sense of it, I am going to summarize.
***WARNING***
This will be a total and complete bitch-fest. I am cranky, tired, and dizzy. Deal with it.
Friday night started great. Threw a couple of horseshoes and kicked some ass. Then I went home and cried, because I was sitting at home, alone, with my three dogs, crocheting and watching Whoopie pretend to be a nun. Beyond depressing.
Up bright and early for class on Saturday. Wore my shoes in the classroom and sat through the longest three hours of "pathology review" in my entire life. It was really a joke. I lost count, but trust me when I say that at least half of the "review" was "um", "and stuff", and "I think." The TA that was present was a Chester. There is no other way to put it. A camo hunting cap, a Magnum PI mustache and the nastiest hands I have ever seen. I about jumped off the table when he tried to touch me. I don't think so dude. Raced home to shower and get to the Nephew's brithday party. Got there just in time for cake & ice cream. Left shortly after that only to go home, dose up on Advil PM and crash.
Sunday morning I overslept. Ran to the store to get mother-in-law's present. Spent more money than we have to spend. Oh well. Ran to pick up my grandmother who forgot I said 11, not 10 and was standing by the door of her facility for an hour waiting for us. Oiy. Had lunch with the fam. Ate guacamole and realized that I am still allergic to it. Joy. Blew off the Lieutenant's grandma to take an hour nap. Had dinner with MIL and watched a few episodes of Rescue Me. Crashed at 9:00pm.
I was a bit emotional yesterday as I was asked at least 90 times if this was my first mothers day, as in, aren't you knocked up yet? Just a little twist here, a dash of salt there, and you have one hell of a heartache. Bah.
I am tired today, I keep having dizzy spells that force me to grab on to the most stationary thing within my reach and I feel like ass. We all know it isn't because I am knocked up, so what gives? Gah. I hate the world today.
***WARNING***
This will be a total and complete bitch-fest. I am cranky, tired, and dizzy. Deal with it.
Friday night started great. Threw a couple of horseshoes and kicked some ass. Then I went home and cried, because I was sitting at home, alone, with my three dogs, crocheting and watching Whoopie pretend to be a nun. Beyond depressing.
Up bright and early for class on Saturday. Wore my shoes in the classroom and sat through the longest three hours of "pathology review" in my entire life. It was really a joke. I lost count, but trust me when I say that at least half of the "review" was "um", "and stuff", and "I think." The TA that was present was a Chester. There is no other way to put it. A camo hunting cap, a Magnum PI mustache and the nastiest hands I have ever seen. I about jumped off the table when he tried to touch me. I don't think so dude. Raced home to shower and get to the Nephew's brithday party. Got there just in time for cake & ice cream. Left shortly after that only to go home, dose up on Advil PM and crash.
Sunday morning I overslept. Ran to the store to get mother-in-law's present. Spent more money than we have to spend. Oh well. Ran to pick up my grandmother who forgot I said 11, not 10 and was standing by the door of her facility for an hour waiting for us. Oiy. Had lunch with the fam. Ate guacamole and realized that I am still allergic to it. Joy. Blew off the Lieutenant's grandma to take an hour nap. Had dinner with MIL and watched a few episodes of Rescue Me. Crashed at 9:00pm.
I was a bit emotional yesterday as I was asked at least 90 times if this was my first mothers day, as in, aren't you knocked up yet? Just a little twist here, a dash of salt there, and you have one hell of a heartache. Bah.
I am tired today, I keep having dizzy spells that force me to grab on to the most stationary thing within my reach and I feel like ass. We all know it isn't because I am knocked up, so what gives? Gah. I hate the world today.
Tragic News
Please keep the families of these three people in your thoughts and prayers.
3 Die In Hospital Helicopter Crash
MADISON, Wis. -- Three people died when a University of Wisconsin Hospital Med Flight helicopter crashed after taking off Saturday night from La Crosse, a hospital spokesman said Sunday.
A surgeon, a nurse and the pilot were killed in the crash, which took place as the helicopter was returning to Madison from the Gundersen Lutheran Medical Center, said UW Hospital spokesman Aaron Conklin.
Allan Tiedt, of the La Crosse County Emergency Dispatch Center, said the wreckage was found in the town of Onalaska.
Killed in the crash were surgeon Darren Bean, nurse Mark Coyne and pilot Steve Lipperer, said UW Hospital chief operating officer Margaret Van Bree.
The helicopter left Madison at about 8:30 p.m. Saturday night to drop off a patient at the La Crosse hospital and departed the airport there at about 10:30 p.m., Van Bree said.
"No further communication was received from the crew," she said.
Rain and fog kept the torn wreckage of the Med-Flight helicopter hidden from search crews until daylight, more than nine hours after the crash. The helicopter was finally found about four miles from the airport at about 8:40 a.m. Sunday, Van Bree said.
Madison rescuers said they were shaken by the news.
"I was just sick," said Jim Kieken, with the Madison Fire Department. "It was just a horrendous thing and you were hoping that the information was incorrect or there was some explanation on what had happened, and in a short period of time you would find out that he was safe, and it's just devastating that it isn't."
"I think we're all just in shock, disbelief right now," said Todd Cole, a Madison Area Technical College Paramedic Instructor who taught with Coyne.
The medical community was also stunned.
"Darren, Mark and Steve represent the very best in compassionate patient care, and they will be deeply missed, said Margaret Van Bree, Chief Operating Officer of University of Wisconsin Hospitals.
The aircraft was an American Eurocopter EC13 leased from Air Methods within the past year, she said.
Preliminary reports indicate the helicopter may have struck a hill or some trees, but the exact cause is not yet known, Van Bree said.
Investigators are looking at all possible causes, including the weather. Hospital officials in Madison, however, pointed out that another medical helicopter from La Crosse was flying in that vicinity at the same time and the thick fog that hampered the search efforts didn't roll into until after the crash.
There were no witnesses to the crash, but residents nearby said they heard it, but thought it was thunder or a car accident.
"This ATV drove in the yard and we asked him what he was doing and he said a helicopter went down somewhere," said Randy Viner, a nearby property owner. "So I said 'let's go up to the woods and look,' and we came down this trail and the helicopter was right here on this trail here."
He said a small plane crashed near that same spot about 30 years ago, when it got caught up in some wires.
Gov. Jim Doyle honored the passengers, saying they were the ones people looked to in times of crisis.
"In our moments of greatest peril, our lives depend on the courageous work of med flight personnel," said Doyle. "We owe the crew tremendous gratitude for their extraordinary service and dedication."
There is one other Med Flight helicopter that serves the university hospital system, and it has been grounded, Conklin said.
3 Die In Hospital Helicopter Crash
MADISON, Wis. -- Three people died when a University of Wisconsin Hospital Med Flight helicopter crashed after taking off Saturday night from La Crosse, a hospital spokesman said Sunday.
A surgeon, a nurse and the pilot were killed in the crash, which took place as the helicopter was returning to Madison from the Gundersen Lutheran Medical Center, said UW Hospital spokesman Aaron Conklin.
Allan Tiedt, of the La Crosse County Emergency Dispatch Center, said the wreckage was found in the town of Onalaska.
Killed in the crash were surgeon Darren Bean, nurse Mark Coyne and pilot Steve Lipperer, said UW Hospital chief operating officer Margaret Van Bree.
The helicopter left Madison at about 8:30 p.m. Saturday night to drop off a patient at the La Crosse hospital and departed the airport there at about 10:30 p.m., Van Bree said.
"No further communication was received from the crew," she said.
Rain and fog kept the torn wreckage of the Med-Flight helicopter hidden from search crews until daylight, more than nine hours after the crash. The helicopter was finally found about four miles from the airport at about 8:40 a.m. Sunday, Van Bree said.
Madison rescuers said they were shaken by the news.
"I was just sick," said Jim Kieken, with the Madison Fire Department. "It was just a horrendous thing and you were hoping that the information was incorrect or there was some explanation on what had happened, and in a short period of time you would find out that he was safe, and it's just devastating that it isn't."
"I think we're all just in shock, disbelief right now," said Todd Cole, a Madison Area Technical College Paramedic Instructor who taught with Coyne.
The medical community was also stunned.
"Darren, Mark and Steve represent the very best in compassionate patient care, and they will be deeply missed, said Margaret Van Bree, Chief Operating Officer of University of Wisconsin Hospitals.
The aircraft was an American Eurocopter EC13 leased from Air Methods within the past year, she said.
Preliminary reports indicate the helicopter may have struck a hill or some trees, but the exact cause is not yet known, Van Bree said.
Investigators are looking at all possible causes, including the weather. Hospital officials in Madison, however, pointed out that another medical helicopter from La Crosse was flying in that vicinity at the same time and the thick fog that hampered the search efforts didn't roll into until after the crash.
There were no witnesses to the crash, but residents nearby said they heard it, but thought it was thunder or a car accident.
"This ATV drove in the yard and we asked him what he was doing and he said a helicopter went down somewhere," said Randy Viner, a nearby property owner. "So I said 'let's go up to the woods and look,' and we came down this trail and the helicopter was right here on this trail here."
He said a small plane crashed near that same spot about 30 years ago, when it got caught up in some wires.
Gov. Jim Doyle honored the passengers, saying they were the ones people looked to in times of crisis.
"In our moments of greatest peril, our lives depend on the courageous work of med flight personnel," said Doyle. "We owe the crew tremendous gratitude for their extraordinary service and dedication."
There is one other Med Flight helicopter that serves the university hospital system, and it has been grounded, Conklin said.
Friday, May 9, 2008
They want YOU!
Tomorrow I will be subjected to some very skeery things. Who knew continuing education could be so frightening.
Lymphatic Massage is what is in store for me. Not only does it suck that I have to spend 9 hours of my day with some complete strangers and not the Lieutenant, but most of them will be hippy-dippy-drink-some-herbal-tea-to-fix-what-ails-you kind of peeps. *Shudder*
Some of the rules for the day are as follows:
1. No shoes in the classroom. - But you must wear socks or slippers. I wonder if they would find my slippers with a giant Tigger head on the front offensive.
2. You can only use oil. - I hate oil. I loathe oil. It gets EVERYWHERE, stains EVERYTHING and you have no control over the tissue. And it stinks.
3. Business casual dress. - So I have to wear my good pants that will surely be ruined because some yuppy will try to hug me and get previously mentioned oil on me.
4. Who wants to attend a school that has this in their mission statement... "Our program is challenging, but you do not have to be brilliant to succeed." - Seriously? Bring on the booze! Lets kill off some brain cells to level the playing field a bit.
I know you are all thinking "Well Bernice, you are the one that signed up for it." Yes, this is true. It was cheap and worth lots of hours and I got suckered into it because Olga is going.
So, say a prayer, a chant, or medicate for me (woah - Freudian slip anyone? I meant meditate but whatever.)
I swear, if they start a hugging chain or a good morning chant, I am out like a fat kid in dodge ball.
Edit: I wonder what M.D.O.D. would think of me. You know, since technically massage therapy is a form of CAM.
Lymphatic Massage is what is in store for me. Not only does it suck that I have to spend 9 hours of my day with some complete strangers and not the Lieutenant, but most of them will be hippy-dippy-drink-some-herbal-tea-to-fix-what-ails-you kind of peeps. *Shudder*
Some of the rules for the day are as follows:
1. No shoes in the classroom. - But you must wear socks or slippers. I wonder if they would find my slippers with a giant Tigger head on the front offensive.
2. You can only use oil. - I hate oil. I loathe oil. It gets EVERYWHERE, stains EVERYTHING and you have no control over the tissue. And it stinks.
3. Business casual dress. - So I have to wear my good pants that will surely be ruined because some yuppy will try to hug me and get previously mentioned oil on me.
4. Who wants to attend a school that has this in their mission statement... "Our program is challenging, but you do not have to be brilliant to succeed." - Seriously? Bring on the booze! Lets kill off some brain cells to level the playing field a bit.
I know you are all thinking "Well Bernice, you are the one that signed up for it." Yes, this is true. It was cheap and worth lots of hours and I got suckered into it because Olga is going.
So, say a prayer, a chant, or medicate for me (woah - Freudian slip anyone? I meant meditate but whatever.)
I swear, if they start a hugging chain or a good morning chant, I am out like a fat kid in dodge ball.
Edit: I wonder what M.D.O.D. would think of me. You know, since technically massage therapy is a form of CAM.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
What did your phone just say?
Hi, my name is Bernice and I am addicted to my cell phone.
Actually, it isn't THAT bad. I am not a constant-texter, I am not always on it, I am just completely paranoid that someone important will call me with some Earth-shaking news, and I am going to miss it. I actually experience this phenomenon when the Lieutenant was in his accident. Not.Good.
So my phone is within my reach 98% of the time. (The other 2%, I am begging the Lieutenant to beep it so I can figure out just where the hell I left it last. I don't lose it, I just hide things from myself.) Generally, you will find my phone securely clipped to my hip, right next to my ginormous, stone-aged pager. (Yes, I am one of those... if I don't I end up searching for either one of them for at least an hour.) Wow, I am a bird-brain today... anyway, what I was trying to say was that often, I will forget to silence my phone while transporting. Granted I have one of those lovely buttons that immediately silences the ringing, but I got to thinking. What if I didn't? More importantly, what if I had a ring tone that was highly inappropriate.
Will and I were discussing which ring tones would be most ironic, yet inappropriate. We came up with the following...
"Keep bleeding Keep, keep bleeding love"
Bleeding Love - Leona Lewis
"Had I known how to save a life"
How To Save a Life - The Fray
"Will you swear on your life, That no one will cry at my funeral?"
Life is Beautiful - SIXX AM
"Pressure pushing down on me Pressing down on you"
Under Pressure - David Bowie/Queen
That's all I have for now. My brain is fried and it is only Thursday. Feel free to add your own!
Actually, it isn't THAT bad. I am not a constant-texter, I am not always on it, I am just completely paranoid that someone important will call me with some Earth-shaking news, and I am going to miss it. I actually experience this phenomenon when the Lieutenant was in his accident. Not.Good.
So my phone is within my reach 98% of the time. (The other 2%, I am begging the Lieutenant to beep it so I can figure out just where the hell I left it last. I don't lose it, I just hide things from myself.) Generally, you will find my phone securely clipped to my hip, right next to my ginormous, stone-aged pager. (Yes, I am one of those... if I don't I end up searching for either one of them for at least an hour.) Wow, I am a bird-brain today... anyway, what I was trying to say was that often, I will forget to silence my phone while transporting. Granted I have one of those lovely buttons that immediately silences the ringing, but I got to thinking. What if I didn't? More importantly, what if I had a ring tone that was highly inappropriate.
Will and I were discussing which ring tones would be most ironic, yet inappropriate. We came up with the following...
"Keep bleeding Keep, keep bleeding love"
Bleeding Love - Leona Lewis
"Had I known how to save a life"
How To Save a Life - The Fray
"Will you swear on your life, That no one will cry at my funeral?"
Life is Beautiful - SIXX AM
"Pressure pushing down on me Pressing down on you"
Under Pressure - David Bowie/Queen
That's all I have for now. My brain is fried and it is only Thursday. Feel free to add your own!
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
The Itch.
No I am not talking about that itch. I'm talking about the need for patient care. My "real" job involves a lot of one on one time with a computer monitor and while it pays incredibly well, it isn't my 'thing'.
My family often jokes that I was born to do this. Between watching surgeries on tv while mowing down burgers or patching up my brothers without even flinching, they decided that I was destined to be in the medical field. My dad always pushed me to go to nursing school. I had the want, but not the will. I was young and stupid and "madly in love" so schooling was pushed further and further down my list of things to do.
Eventually I enrolled myself into EMT-Basic to see if I could "handle" the real blood and guts, not just the injuries that would result from backyard spats between my brothers. From the first day of class, I was hooked. I am still an EMT but a nurse I am not, despite my 'chops' for the medical field.
Flash forward 4 years and there I sit in massage school. Granted this program was no fluff and buff froo froo voodoo massage school. It was A&P, Pathophysiology, Kinesiology and more. And it was hard. It was challenging and I loved every second of it. I was convinced that doing medically-based massage was going to trip my trigger and whet my appetite for patient care. Boy howdy was I wrong.
Now, 5 years after I completed Basic, I sit at my cube in the cube farm and wonder and dream. I have realized I NEED it. It isn't a want. It isn't a 'cool thing'. Medical care is me. It is who I am.
I suppose at this point you are wondering why I don't just go back to school. Easier said than done. I have a husband, a mortgage, two car notes and three dogs. Top that off with the unsucsessful attempts at kids, the doctor visits to figure out why and a still healing husband and you have a glimpse at my life.
Every now and then I pretend that I could just up and quit, take a massive pay cut and work as an ER Tech or a FT EMT. I dream and let myself think it is a possibility for a bit, well, just because. And then I wake up, realize that is not how it is and die a little inside.
There is always a constant battle in my head between staying and going. The responsible side says "Stay, you've got it made in the shade. Besides you can't give up this pay and bennies!" And then the real me rears her sassy head and says "Eff that! Why spend your life wishing and wondering. Make it happen."
Who knows. Maybe some day I will throw caution to the wind and do what my heart wants and not what my head wants.... but then again, maybe not.
My family often jokes that I was born to do this. Between watching surgeries on tv while mowing down burgers or patching up my brothers without even flinching, they decided that I was destined to be in the medical field. My dad always pushed me to go to nursing school. I had the want, but not the will. I was young and stupid and "madly in love" so schooling was pushed further and further down my list of things to do.
Eventually I enrolled myself into EMT-Basic to see if I could "handle" the real blood and guts, not just the injuries that would result from backyard spats between my brothers. From the first day of class, I was hooked. I am still an EMT but a nurse I am not, despite my 'chops' for the medical field.
Flash forward 4 years and there I sit in massage school. Granted this program was no fluff and buff froo froo voodoo massage school. It was A&P, Pathophysiology, Kinesiology and more. And it was hard. It was challenging and I loved every second of it. I was convinced that doing medically-based massage was going to trip my trigger and whet my appetite for patient care. Boy howdy was I wrong.
Now, 5 years after I completed Basic, I sit at my cube in the cube farm and wonder and dream. I have realized I NEED it. It isn't a want. It isn't a 'cool thing'. Medical care is me. It is who I am.
I suppose at this point you are wondering why I don't just go back to school. Easier said than done. I have a husband, a mortgage, two car notes and three dogs. Top that off with the unsucsessful attempts at kids, the doctor visits to figure out why and a still healing husband and you have a glimpse at my life.
Every now and then I pretend that I could just up and quit, take a massive pay cut and work as an ER Tech or a FT EMT. I dream and let myself think it is a possibility for a bit, well, just because. And then I wake up, realize that is not how it is and die a little inside.
There is always a constant battle in my head between staying and going. The responsible side says "Stay, you've got it made in the shade. Besides you can't give up this pay and bennies!" And then the real me rears her sassy head and says "Eff that! Why spend your life wishing and wondering. Make it happen."
Who knows. Maybe some day I will throw caution to the wind and do what my heart wants and not what my head wants.... but then again, maybe not.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Scars
The tones woke us from our deep sleep. I sprang out of bed pulling my socks on as I walked. I didn't bother to swap out my PJs for jeans as my turnout pants would cover the silly cartoons that danced over my legs.
As I pulled into the station I counted the cars that were there. I had a full crew, but they had all just finished Basic within the last 4 months. Cody drove, and I ran the radio. The first in report came from my mentor and the urgency in her voice sent a chill racing up my spine. I barked out instructions that no one was to approach the car unless I specifically told them. They were all far too green to deal with this right now.
We pulled up to find the car embedded in the oak tree. To get to the patient, one had to maneuver through two thorn bushes and squeeze between the biforcated trunk of the massive oak. The tires were missing and there were car parts scattered about as if a bomb went off inside the passenger compartment.
We all started circling the car like vultures, trying to distinguish the best way to get to the broken body inside. The fumes urges us to hurry the clock loudly ticking in our ears. Finally a door was opened and the weight of the man inside was pulled from the debris.
The weight felt awkward to my muscles. It was a motion they had never before completed, pulling on a lifeless form. My hands instinctively went to his head as the other EMTs brandished their trauma shears and did their duty to reveal the flesh underneath the tattered and stained clothing. The count was made and the lift was smooth. My hands transitioned on the sides of the head, a motion they had grown accustomed to over the years, but this time it was different.
My fingers settled in. Farther than they ever had. They cried out to find the resistance of skull, but instead eased into the fleshy abyss. My heart sank to my feet and my face flushed with my own blood. As my blood rushed up to my face, his rushed down the leg of my pants and into my sleeve. The weight of it all, running from his lifeless body. I called out. I needed the reassurance of eye contact, a nod, anything. I pleaded with the faces that were turned down on the patient to look at me, but all I saw were plaquards and shields.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes demanding that I calm down. I could feel my throat getting tight and the burn start behind my eyes. I was screaming inside, but my stony face revealed nothing.
Out of the chaos, my lips moved though I had not thought that they should. They pleaded that someone take my place. They begged. The tears dripping off my words, the fear flowing out of my mouth chasing the doubt my tongue was unleashing.
The jagged breaths came in gulps. The tears exploded from my eyes. The blood raced down my leg racing death to my feet.
Blackness. There was nothing. I could feel my body moving, but I was helpless in my own shell. A mutiny was taking place in my muscles as my hands released their sad grasp and my feet plodded one after the other.
I saw a face in front of me and I recognized it. His lips were moving and yet I heard nothing. It did not matter because his eyes betrayed him and easily shone with fear and worry. He started glancing about, yelling something my ears could not translate. I felt my arms become encircled with steady hands. Hands that seemed to send strength back into my heart and my body.
I started to understand the words, but only in fragments. I saw blurry faces through the sea of tears. My helmet was removed, my gloves peeled away. My coat was taken from my back and replaced with a blanket. My turn out pants and boots were next to go, revealing the happy dance of the characters underneath.
I sat. I cried. I fumed.
I was angry. I was disappointed. I was pissed off.
I was the experienced one.
I was the one that should be able to handle this.
I was the example to follow.
And here I sat. Crying. Covered in a strangers blood and brain matter. All the confidence fleed from me faster than the tears that ran down my blood-streaked face.
I sat on the bumper, pulled my knees to my chest, buried my face and sobbed. Body wracking sobs consumed me. I was a failure.
I drive by that tree at least twice a day. Some days I have to take a different route because I just can't handle the doubt that creeps back into my mind. The tree is still scarred and somehow I think it validates how I feel. Just as that sturdy oak will carry the scars of that night, so will my heart.
As I pulled into the station I counted the cars that were there. I had a full crew, but they had all just finished Basic within the last 4 months. Cody drove, and I ran the radio. The first in report came from my mentor and the urgency in her voice sent a chill racing up my spine. I barked out instructions that no one was to approach the car unless I specifically told them. They were all far too green to deal with this right now.
We pulled up to find the car embedded in the oak tree. To get to the patient, one had to maneuver through two thorn bushes and squeeze between the biforcated trunk of the massive oak. The tires were missing and there were car parts scattered about as if a bomb went off inside the passenger compartment.
We all started circling the car like vultures, trying to distinguish the best way to get to the broken body inside. The fumes urges us to hurry the clock loudly ticking in our ears. Finally a door was opened and the weight of the man inside was pulled from the debris.
The weight felt awkward to my muscles. It was a motion they had never before completed, pulling on a lifeless form. My hands instinctively went to his head as the other EMTs brandished their trauma shears and did their duty to reveal the flesh underneath the tattered and stained clothing. The count was made and the lift was smooth. My hands transitioned on the sides of the head, a motion they had grown accustomed to over the years, but this time it was different.
My fingers settled in. Farther than they ever had. They cried out to find the resistance of skull, but instead eased into the fleshy abyss. My heart sank to my feet and my face flushed with my own blood. As my blood rushed up to my face, his rushed down the leg of my pants and into my sleeve. The weight of it all, running from his lifeless body. I called out. I needed the reassurance of eye contact, a nod, anything. I pleaded with the faces that were turned down on the patient to look at me, but all I saw were plaquards and shields.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes demanding that I calm down. I could feel my throat getting tight and the burn start behind my eyes. I was screaming inside, but my stony face revealed nothing.
Out of the chaos, my lips moved though I had not thought that they should. They pleaded that someone take my place. They begged. The tears dripping off my words, the fear flowing out of my mouth chasing the doubt my tongue was unleashing.
The jagged breaths came in gulps. The tears exploded from my eyes. The blood raced down my leg racing death to my feet.
Blackness. There was nothing. I could feel my body moving, but I was helpless in my own shell. A mutiny was taking place in my muscles as my hands released their sad grasp and my feet plodded one after the other.
I saw a face in front of me and I recognized it. His lips were moving and yet I heard nothing. It did not matter because his eyes betrayed him and easily shone with fear and worry. He started glancing about, yelling something my ears could not translate. I felt my arms become encircled with steady hands. Hands that seemed to send strength back into my heart and my body.
I started to understand the words, but only in fragments. I saw blurry faces through the sea of tears. My helmet was removed, my gloves peeled away. My coat was taken from my back and replaced with a blanket. My turn out pants and boots were next to go, revealing the happy dance of the characters underneath.
I sat. I cried. I fumed.
I was angry. I was disappointed. I was pissed off.
I was the experienced one.
I was the one that should be able to handle this.
I was the example to follow.
And here I sat. Crying. Covered in a strangers blood and brain matter. All the confidence fleed from me faster than the tears that ran down my blood-streaked face.
I sat on the bumper, pulled my knees to my chest, buried my face and sobbed. Body wracking sobs consumed me. I was a failure.
I drive by that tree at least twice a day. Some days I have to take a different route because I just can't handle the doubt that creeps back into my mind. The tree is still scarred and somehow I think it validates how I feel. Just as that sturdy oak will carry the scars of that night, so will my heart.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Poop Breath
So Rick and Will live right down the road from me. Since both of them are terminal bachelors, I am the one they call when they are sick. Yesterday was no exception.
Being the loving, kind and big-hearted sister I am, I dropped off some Dayquil, Nyquil, Sudafed and some plain old Tylenol. I had to bring the pharmacy because the only description I could get out Rick was "it hurts everywhere." I dropped them off, popped open some Nyquil and set a glass of ice water and a cold G2 on the coffee table. Later I get a text... "I puked." Um, thanks for the update?
Today, I stopped by on my way home from work to see how he was feeling. And do you KNOW what he told me?
His puke yesterday, was special. Very special. How so you ask? Well I ask in return, are you SURE you want to know? Because, Oh My Freaking God it is not right. If you don't want to know, stop reading. Now. I mean it.
Okay, you are still reading. It's your own fault now.
When he barfed, he said that it was the consistency of poop. He POOPED out his mouth. Granted he did have strawberry frosted mini wheats for breakfast, but come on! Not only that, but it still tasted like the damn cereal. At this point I was gagging.
But WAIT! There's more.
It didn't come out like normal vomit. Oh no! It came out... yes, like a turd or soft serve ice cream, depending on which brother you are speaking to.
AND...
It took three flushes to get it to unstick from the bottom of the toilet and go down the drain.
I don't know about you, but never again will I be able to eat Strawberry Frosted Mini Wheats again. *shudder*
Being the loving, kind and big-hearted sister I am, I dropped off some Dayquil, Nyquil, Sudafed and some plain old Tylenol. I had to bring the pharmacy because the only description I could get out Rick was "it hurts everywhere." I dropped them off, popped open some Nyquil and set a glass of ice water and a cold G2 on the coffee table. Later I get a text... "I puked." Um, thanks for the update?
Today, I stopped by on my way home from work to see how he was feeling. And do you KNOW what he told me?
His puke yesterday, was special. Very special. How so you ask? Well I ask in return, are you SURE you want to know? Because, Oh My Freaking God it is not right. If you don't want to know, stop reading. Now. I mean it.
Okay, you are still reading. It's your own fault now.
When he barfed, he said that it was the consistency of poop. He POOPED out his mouth. Granted he did have strawberry frosted mini wheats for breakfast, but come on! Not only that, but it still tasted like the damn cereal. At this point I was gagging.
But WAIT! There's more.
It didn't come out like normal vomit. Oh no! It came out... yes, like a turd or soft serve ice cream, depending on which brother you are speaking to.
AND...
It took three flushes to get it to unstick from the bottom of the toilet and go down the drain.
I don't know about you, but never again will I be able to eat Strawberry Frosted Mini Wheats again. *shudder*
Aw Crap.
Henri has kennel cough. I am supposed to seperate her and the other two dogs and she is on antibiotics for two weeks. How the heck am I supposed to seperate them? Oiy.
Happy Frickin Monday.
Edit:
Two weeks of antibiotics... $75.00
Seperate water dish and food bowl... 37.86
Walking in the door barefoot only to step a pile of frothy slimy dog sputum... priceless.
Edit:
This is breaking my heart. The poor thing doesn't do much besides hack and cough and heave. As long as she is laying down doing nothing (Read: locked in the laundry room by herself) she is okay. I feel bad having to lock her in there, but at least then the coughing/hacking/gagging/spewing is lessened. Those damn antibiotics better hurry up and make her feel better. Poor thing.
Happy Frickin Monday.
Edit:
Two weeks of antibiotics... $75.00
Seperate water dish and food bowl... 37.86
Walking in the door barefoot only to step a pile of frothy slimy dog sputum... priceless.
Edit:
This is breaking my heart. The poor thing doesn't do much besides hack and cough and heave. As long as she is laying down doing nothing (Read: locked in the laundry room by herself) she is okay. I feel bad having to lock her in there, but at least then the coughing/hacking/gagging/spewing is lessened. Those damn antibiotics better hurry up and make her feel better. Poor thing.
PRESENTING...
HENRI!
I created a nice long blog about her but my internet at home was being stupid and blogger wouldn't save my post. So a summary will have to do. Picked her up on Thursday night and Henri and Brick decided they have a shared love for tennis balls. I believe I have at least 10 of them hidden throughout my house now. Friday, Mom helped me take all three of them to the vet. Two hours, $376 and one tick later, we were headed back home. Henri is still getting adjusted to our schedule, but so far, so good. Here is the pup!
Saturday we had a practice burn. It was cold, rainy and windy as all hell, but it was a great training for the Lieutenant as this was the first time since his accident that he has done interior work. He was sore afterwards, but the grin on his face was enough to see it was worth it (not to mention the mild case of bunker crotch).
Yesterday we had a nice afternoon out on the lake. I almost got skunked, but caught the first fish and lost another next to the boat (need to remember to keep the darn rod up!). But in the end, the Lieutenant smoked me and I lost the bet.
This week is going to be insane as I have somewhere to be every night. I'm not looking forward to it, but hoping for good news tomorrow.
I created a nice long blog about her but my internet at home was being stupid and blogger wouldn't save my post. So a summary will have to do. Picked her up on Thursday night and Henri and Brick decided they have a shared love for tennis balls. I believe I have at least 10 of them hidden throughout my house now. Friday, Mom helped me take all three of them to the vet. Two hours, $376 and one tick later, we were headed back home. Henri is still getting adjusted to our schedule, but so far, so good. Here is the pup!
Saturday we had a practice burn. It was cold, rainy and windy as all hell, but it was a great training for the Lieutenant as this was the first time since his accident that he has done interior work. He was sore afterwards, but the grin on his face was enough to see it was worth it (not to mention the mild case of bunker crotch).
Yesterday we had a nice afternoon out on the lake. I almost got skunked, but caught the first fish and lost another next to the boat (need to remember to keep the darn rod up!). But in the end, the Lieutenant smoked me and I lost the bet.
This week is going to be insane as I have somewhere to be every night. I'm not looking forward to it, but hoping for good news tomorrow.
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