A Summary

In photos...










It's almost Tuesday... it's almost Tuesday... it's almost Tuesday...

Augustana - Boston

Again, a new favorite. Mirrors my mood almost perfectly.

Please Look.

A worthy project. Please take a look and pass it along if you feel it is appropriate.

http://violenceunsilenced.com/

Man's Best Friend

Also happens to be woman's best friend. Don't get me wrong, I love all my dogs, well except when the little princess eats my clothes or the skinny one eats poop, but it is certain that they each have a piece of my heart. But this one... this Henri - the girl dog - she has a special place. I mean come on! Look at that face! Can you blame me?

The only problem is... what is she? (Not that it is a problem, I love her defective skin and all!) Any insight? Some thought Chesapeake Bay Retriever, some think a mutt of sorts. All I know, is she is the sweetest, most protective little ball of love I have ever met in my entire life.

Intermission

I know I vowed a little break, but alas, I am a big fat liar. For those of you that are of the worrying sort I am letting you know I am okay. Maybe not completely stable on a day to day basis, but for the most part I am doing pretty well considering. I am going through a lot of changes and choices and basically some real mind bending crap. So with that, I really want to say thank you to certain people that have really stood out from the crowd and shown true love and acceptance. Jo, Jeannie, Mom, Epi, Sam and so many others - you are all so dear to me I can never repay you for your love and support and well really for putting up with me whining and crying and carrying on like a big ol' baby. Truly, there are not enough words in any language to really tell you how much each and every one of you mean to me. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Also, Boston is still on so if you want to get together for a drink email me and we will figure something out. I will be there March 6-8. I promise to buy the first round.

I signed up for two 5Ks today. Rick and his girly are going to run it with me. And while I was assuming I either had a stress fracture or plantar fasciitis in my left foot, it turns out, I just need wider shoes so as not to pinch the nerves in my feets. So thank you JB for pointing out that I have sasquatch feet. I really do appreciate it. Hopefully some time this week I can get in to the Nike store and actually have shoes fitted for me. Imagine that. Then I can get back to training like I want to.

Finally, the genius I call Epi has created a masterpiece in the form of a hoodie. It is a tribute to our growing posse of BAMFs. That's right. Women with brains and looks. ;)

LOA

There comes a time in everyone's life where they have to step back and really take a good look at themselves. I have debated back and forth about whether or not I would actually announce it, but here I am...

I have taken a leave of absence from the fire department. It is almost physically painful thinking I am letting everyone down but I have to do it for me. I have to get myself right in the head or I may never get right.

That also means that I will be taking a little time from here. As most blogs do, they start as an outlet an escape and yet, everything I have to say is sad, depressing and well, far too personal to put out there for the world to digest.

So, I'll be back.

I hope...

Why I love Will.

This was one of those emails that someone else fills out the answers for you. Seriously, that kid cracks my shiz up.




Where did we meet? hospital?

Take a stab at my middle name? **Removed**But so you know, he got it right. ;)

Do I smoke? only crack

Color of my eyes? brown

Do I have any siblings? yes

What's one of my favorite things to do? yell at people

What's my favorite type of music? the kind that makes you want to shake your bon bon shake your bon bon

Am I shy or outgoing? outgoing

Am I a rebel or do I follow the rules? closet rebel

Any special talents? annie oakley. need i say more?

How many times a week do I go out? one if that

If you and I were stranded on a deserted island, what is one thing that I would bring? a gate key?

Who knew the name Gary could be so hot?

My happy thought for the day most days.

Congratulations!

The Lieutenant's Man-Wife's Wife (you got that?) delivered their first child yesterday, right smack dab on her due date.


Congratulations to you two crazy lovebirds!


Let's hope she takes after her mother. ;)

Laugh at me.

I said it yesterday. Well I didn't say it, but I sure as hell alluded to it... last night was my crew night and you guessed it... So because I am severely lacking in the sleep department, let me give you a rough outline of my evening.

*Get home from work (1), feed dogs, let dogs out, plead with middle "child" not to eat poop anymore, lose argument, try to nap without success, change and head to work (2).

*Arrive at work (2), realize I am on the schedule for Friday despite asking for the day off, whine a little, check schedule for V-day, try to realign my jaw, work a 25 minute, get armpits waxed, get rash from wax IN MY ARMPIT, start 50 minute late because client was late, clean spa, pinch finger in dumpster.

*Try on 23 different pairs of pants at Kohl's, strike out completely, buy candles and socks instead, remember I am on crew and I am in the next town, head home.

*Start making dinner at 9:30, eat dinner on the couch with three cold noses on my lap, throw tennis ball one gazillion times, watch tv too long, go to bed.

*Toss and turn for an hour, finally fall asleep, wake up with bloody nose, get blood all over my arm, the pillow case, the bed, the carpet, the nightstand, sit up in bed wrapped in the blanket trying not to to fall asleep before my nose stops bleeding.

*Wake up to tones, get dressed, realize turnout coat is in the -7 degree car, spit dried blood out, head to station, almost leave without the other EMT, spit dried blood out, wait on scene for 10 minutes for full timers to bring patient down, spit dried blood out, miss the IV, miss the second IV, hate myself, spit dried blood out, go back to station, do paperwork, go home, shower, leave for work.

*Sit in traffic for over 2 hours due to "six car pile-up", laugh at the two vehicles with moderate damage and four with barely cosmetic issues, get in to work late, try to care about being late to work, get coffee, sit at desk staring at blank screen, write blog about nothing interesting.

Isn't my life exciting?

Showin' the love and other random stuff.

I have updated my daily reading list. There were several great blogs that were not on there and quite frankly, they should be, but I'm a slacker. Head on over and check some of them out. You will be pleasantly surprised I'm sure.

I also have the bug again to be on a truck for pay. I love being a volunteer and I just can't fathom not volunteering, but I am tired of not using my skills. I think the scariest part is 1) not making as much as I make now with the kick ass benefits and 2) getting stuck with a crappy partner. Weekends are the only time I have available and well, that is also the only time I can possibly see the Lieutenant.

I can feel my family groaning right now, wondering just how many jobs a person has to have before they stop the insanity.

Happy Thought of the Day.

Oh Harry!!



Shut up JB, I do not like ugly men!

If I were a slab of delicious cow hide, I would be cooked to the point right before it ignites. Not medium or medium well. Black. Charred. Wasted.

It isn't about the saves or lack thereof. It is all about what is in my head. I just can't bring myself to get up off the couch, pull my clothes over my tired body and walk out the door to another call. Granted right now, we are in a Q or S phase so the opportunities are few and far between as it is. But when that pager beeps and squelches out my number, I just can't muster up enough give a damn to do anything about it.

There are a few EMTs from my department and the full timers that I enjoy working with and actually look forward to working with. I can count them on one hand and half of them aren't even at our station any more. I hate myself for cringing every time I hear certain numbers called out over the radio knowing I will be spending the next couple hours coaching someone through a call or deflecting jabs.

I knew when I became an officer, it was going to be hard. People will demand more of you than you ever thought possible and scrutinize with a magnifying glass that could set a buffalo on fire. And trust me when I say, they are. I try to be fair. I try to be as nice and gentle with sensitive subjects as I can, but it always seems that someone gets offended no matter what I do. Once that happens, bring on the drama. Like Brittany Spears meltdown drama.

Part of that is from living in a small town when half the department is related in one way or another. It blurs the lines of authority and it is hard to tell sometimes is someon is talking to you as their sister/spouse/friend or as their officer. It all depends on which hat they have on for the moment and really, what their intentions for the outcome are. So when you have a disagreement with one person you can guarantee that at least a third of the department will have heard about it in at least 24 hours. It is irritating. Especially when someone pulls the "I just wanted you to know so you were aware of it" card when really, they just want to make you look like a bad guy.

I'm tired of being the bad guy because I'm really not. I may have a bit of a rough exterior, but when you look a little deeper, there is a gooey mushy center. That is my fault. I care and I care too much. If someone doesn't like me, it drives me crazy. If someone thinks I am a crappy EMT, I will put myself inside out to prove them wrong.

I think part of the problem is I am very impatient. I have the ability to take my time and explain something to someone who genuninely doesn't understand. That is a skill I am very proud of. If they still don't understand, I try and find some analogy to relate it to, my favorite being all about glucagon. But when you have been an EMT for over three years and you still don't know how to use a safety lancet or put on the leads for the monitor, my fuse gets short. Really short. The part that gets me so riled, is that those people don't take the initiative to learn. Forgetting in a momentary brain fart is one thing as is switching the right and left lead (something I am constantly guilty of) but plain old apathy pisses me off. (And yes, I realize that my lack of motivation to go to calls makes me a giant hypocrite because most days, I don't care. But I am working on it and I hate myself for it.)

So what is a girl to do? Not only do I have my own issues to deal with, but the drama of others constantly running around with giant butcher knives just waiting for the opportune moment to plunge it into my back as fast and hard as they can. I don't know if I am really cut out for this whole officer thing. The other captain is not someone I can rely on and neither is the AC - both of which have two knives poised and ready. I fell into EMS on a whim and it became engrained in me and yet, I am on the brink of hanging up the coat and laying down the gloves - stuck somewhere between throwing in the towel and standing up and telling them all exactly where they can go.

And to thinnk, I actually considered taking the paramedic course in August. I can't handle what I'm doing now, how the hell am I going to handle paramedic class and clinicals?

I am so insensitive.

Since we adpoted #3 from the shelter, they send me regular emails requesting monetary support and announcing new additions. Since I am a glutton for punishment, I usually browse the pictures of the big eyes and even bigger awkward paws of adorable puppies. (No Lieutenant, I do NOT want another dog. No sir. No way. No how.) Today I realized they had a small animal/misc adoption tab. Being the curious gal I am, I clicked on it, awaiting the floppy ears of bunnies and beady eyes of lizards. I got beady eyes, just not the sort I was assuming. Tell me, why on God's green Earth would they be adopting out mice? MICE! Now, let me just throw it out there that growing up, I had pet mice. One in particluar that I loved dearly and would play with much like the Circus Mouse. Lame, I know but she was damn cute. Anyway, the life expectancy of a mouse is well, short, like 3-5 years short. And I speak from experience when I say that it generally isn't nearly that long. More like 1-2 years.

I don't know why I find it so funny, maybe it is because you can go to the pet store and buy snake food for under a buck and there are no forms to sign. Maybe it's because I would imagine that if you really didn't want a pet mouse anymore, you would just either, er dispose of it or put it outside. Am I cruel? Maybe. But damn if I didn't have good chuckle.

FYI

When consuming foods that contain melted cheese, please use caution. Burn blisters on the roof of one's mouth are not fun and quite disgusting. However, doing this twice in 48 hours... yeah.

Someone point me in the direction of the short bus.

From the other side.

It had been years since grandma had lived on her own. After the second time they found her on the floor of her bedroom, cold, dirty and barely conscious, her children made the painful decision every child fears. The choices had to be made and not all could agree. Finally, an arrangement was made that she would become a bit of a gypsy. Traveling around the state and country, spending a block of time with each of her children and their families. A seemingly genius way to share the emotional and financial burden.

As time went on, homes were outgrown without the extra soul. My father's shop was quickly renovated into a one room apartment. Complete with two closets, a sink, a microwave and a small refrigerator. There was enough room for her to maneuver about with her walker yet small enough that on her good days she could leave the walker at her bedside and use the furniture as her support. The long concrete hallway to the family room and bathroom served her well with it's smooth surface making her walker easier to maneuver, despite it's cold and unwelcoming appearance.

I would stop by daily in between class and work to make sure she had more than toast and juice for lunch and stay for a chat. We had a decent arrangement; offering her the freedom of her own area of the house with silent supervision from her family. Until the day she fell.

My phone rang as I was sitting in class. With a red face painted with embarrassment, I did my best to slip out of the lecture hall with some dignity intact. As I was approaching the door, my phone rang again. At least by this time I had turned the ringer to silent. As the door clicked shut behind me my mothers voice filled my ear, her worry seeping into my bones, Could I hurry home? What should she do? Grandma was on the floor and cold.

I broke more laws than I knew possible in the 20 minute trip from the university to the scared, fragile frame. It didn't take long to realize something wasn't right. My father had moved her to the bed in an effort to make her more comfortable, despite my urging not to. As she lay there, mortified and frightened, my father excused himself as my mother and I tried to clean her up without inflicting more damage or pain. The confusion on her face was verified when she called me by my aunt's name and her continuous line of questions that were repeated on a 5 minute cycle.

We contemplated how to best get her to the hospital, again while inflicting the least amount of pain on her arthritis laden body. With the suspicion of an injury to her hip and the altered mental status, I made a call to 911. I relayed specific directions to the dispatcher, noting the landmarks that would need to be identified in order to find the winding driveway and the correct house. The local department was a matter of 3 miles down the road so we started to get grandma ready for the transport.

I checked my watch anger rising in my throat as the minutes ticked away. After 10 minutes a first responder appeared in the driveway. I gave a report and let her know that while it wasn't emergent, we were genuinely concerned about her well being but most importantly, that hip. The first responder slipped into the bedroom and assisted in trying to retain as much of my grandmother's dignity as possible. After all, accidents are bound to happen when you spend several hours lying on your bedroom floor. I handed over my list of vitals and gave her my assessment and findings. She laughed nervously when my eyes once again fell on my watch.

30 minutes had now passed and the ambulance was nowhere to be seen. She radioed to the ambulance, giving step by step instructions on how to locate the correct house. As it turns out, the ambulance crew had just stopped at the wrong house for the third time and between there, had traveled across two lawns. Finally, the first responder drove down the gravel driveway in order to flag down the ambulance. Her face almost as red as mine but hers reflecting complete embarrassment.

Finally, the ambulance pulled up to the house unaware of the large concrete pad that would well suit their need for space to turn around. Instead, they made a large loop over through the back yard. Three EMTs filed out of the truck. The driver I knew personally and from that, their tardiness made sense. Another, a man, stumbled out wearing stained and torn scrubs and tennis shoes that looked like they were older than I was. His toes poked through the tips as if to say they were also there to help, you know, for moral support. The third, a tiny woman with librarian glasses that were surely older than I, shook her bouffant hair and glared up at me over her spectacles on a chain.

I recognized this woman as the same who had taught my CPR class not more than a year before. Needless to say, we were not friends in the least as my impatience with the pace of the class did not impress her in the least.

She may have been the shortest of the gaggle of embarrassment, but she surely was not the quietest. The moment her white support shoe covered feet hit the concrete, she was barking out orders to everyone, including me. Her stride, equalling approximately a third of mine, managed to keep up as I strode through the garage to the basement steps, preparing to lead them to my grandmother. As we walked, I relayed vitals and my assessment, hoping to bring them up to speed and save time. I tentatively knocked on the bedroom door, ensuring my grandmother was at least covered before we entered. And that's when she pushed me. Well at least she tried too. Her small hand struggled to encase my arm as she leaned into me and placed her hand on the doorknob. Towering over her by a good eight inches, I turned and glared down at her overly blushed face.

It was a standoff of epic proportions. She demanded to see my grandmother NOW! And how dare we keep her in a closet in the basement. I pointed out, as politely as I could, that despite their meticulously late arrival, she was stable and therefore would prefer to ensure she is as comfortable as possible before strangers descended upon her with the attitudes they carried. I bit my tongue about the closet comment knowing the ugly white shoe would soon find itself securely in her mouth. With the utmost perfect timing, my mom opened the door and we slipped into the bedroom.

Slowly, I explained to my grandmother what was happening as I seemed to be the only person she noticed or cared to notice. I held her small misshapen hand in mine and smiled, trying to let her know everything was going to be fine. Before I could finish my sentence, her hand was pulled from mine, and a cravat was wrapped around it. That face, that repugnant and defiant face scolded me for not knowing better than to get out of their way. This was THEIR patient. While I understood this, they had long lost my trust before they had even arrived.

With much pain and agony she was secured to the board and much to my delight the cravats were removed. With some coaching on my part and the muscle of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dirty, grandma was placed into the back of the ambulance for the short trip to the hospital.

Before they ambulance rolled down the driveway I never thought they would find, the bitter little woman, who proudly proclaimed her nursing skills of more than 50 years, did her best to reach her pudgy little finger to my nose as she scolded me with her wagging finger for being a nuisance and impeding patient care.

My only reply was that the only person who should be scolded was her and if she continued to delay transport, I would be sure to add that to the letter of complaint that would be delivered to her chief by morning. With a huff, she spun on her heel, hopped on her broom and headed off with my grandmother in tow.




Thinking back, I try to remember what it was like to be a family member bringing strangers into my home to care for a loved one. I always try to remember what it is like from the other side. So when it comes time to roll out of bed and head to someones emergency, I try to opt for a pair of jeans and not the sweatpants next to them. I choose shoes that will not only protect me but will not portray the image of the lack of caring. But most importantly, I try to remember to tuck my smile into my pocket to be plastered on when my butt leaves the seat of the responding unit. Sometimes I forget these small things and then I remember the other side and I quickly remember that even though I am a volunteer, image is everything, even in the darkest hours of the morning.

Updates... Because you care.

Who's getting an iPhone? Oh yeah, this girl!

Switching from Nextel to AT&T is going to save us close to $60/month and to me, that is well well worth it. Oh and they have better coverage over a larger area and I'm getting an iPhone. I blame the daddio for that one. I was enamored with his all weekend.


There will be no 5K for me. Registration closed and I was a big procrastinator and couldn't get in. Oh well. Off to find a different race to torture myself with.

I have not lost any weight (according to the dreaded scale) but when I put on my skirt this morning - it fell half way down my hips! Literally. I am a happy girl. Booyah! If that isn't motivation, I don't know what is. What is more impressive, that is after a day of gorging on chili and home made jalapeno poppers and chips and home made gluten free corn bread and veggies and buffalo chicken dip and oh I have a stomach ache thinking about it.

Saturday night, the Lieutenant and I went out for dinner with my parents. Then we headed to the local watering hole for some pool and drinks. It was a riot! I had so much fun and it was so amazing to see my dad, whom I don't usually see eye to eye with, being a dad! Hugging and laughing and encouraging and just being silly with me. It was amazing and put more bandaids on old scars than any therapist ever could. I like this side of my dad and even though there is a huge part of me that is sad I didn't have that growing up, I am so thankful that at least I get to experience it now.

This Monday isn't so bad after all!

Next Stop: Boston

I will be out in Boston with the Momma the first weekend in March. So if there are any folks out there that frequent this little corner of the interwebz and are willing to meet this girl for a drink, let me know. I'll even get the first round.