My Birthday Weekend

Christmas must be approaching quickly as it's time again for my birthday. Other than the obligatory knock down drag out party I will have this weekend, it seems this weekends festivities will be nice and low key. I still find it interesting to sit back and examine how the dynamic of my friendships change with time. Looking back on the years I've had and the experiences that time has provided, it always amazes me to grow up just a little more. One more rung up on the ladder, gaining yet another vantage to view from. My ever changing values structure, shifting this way and that. Watching life change around me, as friends marry and start their own families. Adding more people to the party. Creating a larger more extending family then before. Spouses and maybe kids now attend our functions, before maybe a fleeting girlfriend would wonder through, gone just as quick as she arrived, on the next. "What was her name again?" "Never mind her, meet Liz, she's the new one."

I've always thought of my life in the context of a story. Weighing somethings on whether or not they would add an interesting chapter to my life as a book. Wondering if "this" would be a good story to tell me children, would they learn anything from it. Will they think daddy's crazy for leaving everything and starting medic school. Will they even comprehend this train of thoughts.

As I look back at another year spend, I'm happy. I don't think I've squandered to much time. I've taken the time to smell the roses and enjoy the warmth of sun on my face. Wrestled this my nieces and let the dogs lick my face. I'm content.

Oh The Holiday Rush

I know I'm not alone when I say, damn the holidays are busy. It seems as if the population triples, people are everywhere. More on the roads, at the grocery store and of course at any retail shopping center. Even the hole-in-the-wall places that I go to cannot escape the masses.

The one thing that has been fairly slow is our call volume. The ice and snow covered roads have not produced their yield of car accidents, Thanksgiving did not send anyone to the hospital for heart attaches, no tried to pull the plug on themselves. Average citizens might believe that it is the holiday spirit keeping everyone safe, I put more stock into human nature. As we know the tides will turn. I express no ill will to any one, but a little excitement might be nice.

Due to the shackles of a normal day job I was unable to join in the festivities of our latest house fire. Which really pissing me off. Working close to home has advantages, but the fact that the pager picks up the tones sometimes is not one of them. Sure I get to listen and laugh at some calls, and cringe at others.

On the bright side I hooked up with an outfit that will allow me to function as a fire instructor in live burns. Which is awesome.

Weekends

As I start the week I feel slightly more drained, even for a Monday. Friday was nothing more than an alcoholic blur of bar hopping culminating in a game of basketball at 0430 in a community recreation center. My friend is the caretaker and lives on site. Saturday was filled with fuzzy headed four wheeling in the cold overcast weather. The unexpected dip in the river turned the ride into a wet cold cloudy day. But fun was had by all, with no human injuries we were left to limp home on machines that were not be built tough enough for how we ride. We broke one half shaft, completely submerged one in the river and ruined the transmission on another. I arrived home just in time to slip into bed and get a little rest as I started my on call shift 0800 Sunday morning.

The gods apparently decided that sleeping in was not needed as the tones went off at 0830 for a minor call I can't even remember. Easily enough we turned the call pretty quick, just in time to attend breakfast with the usual group. I bob and weave my way down the buffet line and hit the table ready for round one. I grasp the first piece of perfectly cooked bacon, not crisp nor undercooked but perfect. After savoring two bites of the coveted meat I'm stolen away as the tones go off again. I feel like I'm singing the 100 bottles of beer on the wall song, as it just another minor call, the only detail to change is the run number. 99 bottles of beer on the wall 99 bottles of beer...

I return in time for my much needed nap, I've gone the extra mile, I'm not messing with the couch, going straight for the gold I crawl into bed. It was awesome, the floating peacefulness as I drift off the sleep only to awake to the nextel and my girlfriend, both parties unaware of my plan. This time a fire truck had an issue requiring a little attention, we did everything we could, but this one is for the surgeons, call the mechanic. I'm back home in a half an hour, will the bed still be warm I think to myself. Well with the tones yelping at me I will never find out. The call sounds promising, an assault ending with a stabbing. The patient walks away with a nice laceration, which is almost surgical looking and the attacker walks away with the PD. Bleeding was controlled before we arrive, turns out it's another minor call, 98 bottles of beer on the wall, 98 bottles of beer. We sailed into the ER, a little pump fake for the ER tech and I find my running back nurse, the hand off is flawless, we're back on the road in minutes. Now a little break, I found someone to cover my calls while I attend nice calm hockey game. The was great, a nice reprieve. Back home and in bed, I will sleep tonight, I insist. Although fun the weekend has taking it's toll and I'm ready for a nice quite night to sleep, leaving me somewhat ready to start the week. Mr. Diabetic saw to it that very little sleep would be had, and of course he takes oral meds and is having issues with them, so he wins the prize of an ambulance ride at 0030 in the morning. Like a snail I drag myself home, slivering into bed, I grab my pillow and hope for silence, I haven't even taken the time to grab the blankets, I leave my socks on.

Almost two whole hours fly by, until Mr. My Tummy Hurts, calls in the reinforcements. I felt sorry though, having the flu sucks, but your wife that was up and followed us in her SUV probably could have brought you in too. But hey I guess I can't think of any better way to piss away a grand then on an ambulance ride. Now it's 0330, I'm tired, the hospital now hates me as I've just about filled up there ER and all I want is a little sleep before I do this all over again tonight. I collapse into bed, I'm asleep in seconds, the weight of the night acts like a heavy quilt and sends me peacefully to sleep. I slept through the night until 0600 for the alarm clock. I had to check the pager to make sure I hadn't slept through anything as I know I was dead to the world.

Now as long as I don't fall asleep at the computer or driving home I can look forward to another night of not sleeping. God, why am I starting medic school?

For Sam over at On the Clock

Sam posed the question of women in EMS and firefighting.

Firefighting is hands down a physical profession, for everyone. Most would say comparing men against women is unfair, it's apples and oranges. The concept that men were biologically designed with larger muscles and stronger skeleton, women being smaller framed with less muscle mass. Everyone assumes then that women could not possible perform as a firefighter. Now I know I will catch a bunch of crap over this, but the women that I've worked with and the women I've been to class with were all more then capable. When using proper body mechanics I've seen women perform the exact same functions as men. During class I've been "rescued" from a ladder by a gal who probably weighed in at 110. Now being roughly six foot tall and on a good day weighing in at 270 in full turnout gear, I'm quite the victim to rescue. The gal performed perfectly, using the techniques she was taught. There is only one act that I think some women might not have the brute strength to tackle, the rescue of a down firefighter. Now, do I believe that anyone man or women is dragging my 270 pound ass out of a burning building, absolutely not. I have never had a problem working with women in general, of course I've had attitude conflicts but none related to gender. My personal exception is women that are on the fire department for the wrong reasons. Systems that run both fire and ems, like mine, seem to have women that are there strictly for the ems portion and not the fire. Firefighting is a due that they pay for be able to work in ems. These are the people in my experience that do not put in the effort and sometimes don't seem fit for the job. Don't forget, the physical tests are the same for both sexes, at least where I'm at.

As for EMS
I shall choose my words wisely as my lady is a full time paramedic for a large private ambulance company in town. I would prefer to ride with at least one women on the crew, that way the ambulance has someone to clean it, I'm just kidding so settle down. I can recall many runs where having a women aboard was a huge benefit. Setting aside the issue of skills as anyone can learn to read the monitor or start an IV and with hydraulic stretchers no one has to lift anymore. I will say a women's touch is a real thing and not just for calls with "women's issues." I don't think anyone would disagree with the notion that women have a greater nurturing effect than men. Lets face it, does a small child whose scared from a accident on his bike run to a man in uniform or a woman. Does an out of control drunk patient not play nice if he thinks he's going home with his female caretaker. I'm not insinuating that women should be used to distract a patient simply because they are female, but there seems to be a certain calming effect. Could one hypothesis that that might be a reason that historically most nurses are women? Just a thought. Having a women partner just makes sense to me, you have the best of both worlds.

My One True Passion

Firefighting might be just another way to earn a paycheck for some. It consumes me. I really live for it.

I sit, always ready to jump when the bell rings. Kissing my lady goodbye as I run out the door, knowing I have her as my personal medic to put me back together, she's usually right behind me. Even in my bedroom my pants lay on the floor with my boots pulled through the legs, socks tossed over the top, a shirt floats above in the breeze of the ceiling fan. My gear sits completely prepared for me as well. Everything is hung in the order of it's donning. Pants and boots below, hood on the outside hook, coat on the back hook, mask beside it, helmet on the top shelf, gloves strapped to the coat. Granted I operate the apparatus quite frequently, But I jump at the chance to ride in back, as one of crew that will eventually enter. Crawling in the darkness, searching for that warm glow. You can't see the fire, but you can feel it. The heat tells you where to go. Up the stairs, down the hall, now you can hear it. It crackles like a camp fire and roars with the wind. You might even crawl right on top of it, the golden flicks of light crawling up you mask, never fear you've got your gear. Just back up and let loose.

As the pump operator your job is primarily over by the time the firefighters start theirs. By the time they have pulled their hose to the front door, I've flipped all my switches, turned my cranks and pulled my levers. I've given them their holy water by the time they hit the door. If all goes well there is a hydrant close. After establishing a water supply my job tends to slow down. I babysit a $500,000 truck for the duration of the call. I stand in the freezing rain and snow, walking gingerly on the ice rink I've turned the street into. Myself and old man fire will not visit today. Not without virtue, the operator plays defender to the firefighters. Against oncoming cars on the freeway, dark alleys and muddy swamps and with water, their life blood.

I'd take either, in a minute. Now if only there was a call.

Did you unplug the toaster?

We might have lost this one, but look at the proud papas getting their pictures taking.

I survived another live burn with the endless supply of over zealous rookies who're more than eager to battle the sinister Old Man Fire.

I of course did my best to train these monkeys with the dreadful thought that someday I might have to actually expect them to put out fire, without peeing themselves, mind you. We'll wash your gear if you get dirty from a fire, not for soiling yourself. No one went running frantically when the fire barely licked my helmet. They zigged and zagged appropriately and managed not the hurt themselves in the process.

I shall of course take this time to boast on my many victories of the day. I won my first instructor a drink at the bar. (The betting instructor had hid a second little fire that would have blocked my exit and made for some real fun. Sneaky bastard that he is.) Granted I took the bait way down into my stomach.

With nozzle in hand I open the front door, the kitchen to my right is only smoky, I continue right past it as nothing peaks my interest. I round a corner to find a dining room fully involved. Flames cross the ceiling above me, like a sunny day in the mountains I can feel the radiant heat through my gear. I soak the ceiling, wet it down until I can see water actually hitting the floor again, remember the ceiling will reach temps of around 1000 degrees without breaking a sweat, meaning when I shoot water up there it might not come back down. Only after the I've applied enough water to dissipate the heat will the water not convert to steam instantly.

"We've got fire behind us!" yells the young crackly voiced newbie.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I've got fire in front of me too." "Let me know when you can't stand up anymore, than I come back and put it out." I retort with.

I finally turn around and shower off the kitchen (The hidden fire), then it's back to business with the inferno of a dining room. Wetting the ceiling will only do so much, you have to get in the room and actually attack what's on fire. Splash the ceiling one last time for good measure and run, I drop to my knees as it's bad form to stand directly in the fire rolling over the ceiling. I eye up my target and let loose with a nice straight stream that will knock the fire out. As the fire dies down the flames retreat from the ceiling as they have no additional heat to keep them ablaze. Mop up the kitchen on the way out and dinner is served. It was a fantastic fire. Granted for training the structure is already ventilated with the windows being broken out already. This provides a huge advantage as you can see. Normally in a house fire you can't see your hand in front of your face. I can personally guarantee most will never be able to appreciate how utterly alone you feel. Never mind that your knees burn as your crawl through the lava the carpet became when it melted, your shoulder sting as the radiant heat seeps right through your gear. If you are in there long enough the air in your will super heat and feel as though you are breathing from a blast finance. Other than that it's a walk in the park.

Remember folks, you never take your mask off, when you run out of air you better get really friendly with god, because if take one breath of 500 degree air, well, you just cooked your lungs and there ain't no coming back from that.

Better to pass out with your mask on and hope someone can drag your ass out, at least you gave yourself a chance at being revived.

And you thought firefighting was all about getting chicks while in uniform.

That and I will have the chance to work as a fire instructor, which of course kicks ass.

Cold Meat?

Just a little food for thought to all the EMS folk out there.

I've been reading a little regarding the potential benefits of clinically induced hypothermia in sudden cardiac arrest patients. The studies that I have found were primarily performed on lab animals, however I did stubble on to a study performed in Europe that was in hospital with actual humans. Silly Europeans, the world's lab rats. Their study had certain prereq's for the patient to be used of course. Based on downtime, witnessed or not and a few other factors. The benefits sound quite fascinating for cardiac arrest but also some spinal injuries and possible CVA incidents.

Basically I'm wondering if anyone else has run into this procedure, in the field or in house.

In the frigid north we might just start working grandpa on the icy sidewalk out front. Suppose we'd need inline IV heaters then, so never mind.

Keeping Up

Sorry gang,
There just isn't much to comment or rant about these days. Well at least not anything you'd care to listen too; my mother asking why I don't see her as much as she would like, my girlfriend throwing the "M" word around, the AAA surgery my grandfather will endure tomorrow

I have a visitation and funeral to attend tomorrow evening and Friday morning. We will lay to rest a retired firefighter of 35 years, a father to two chiefs and a grandfather to one young firefighter. His lineage will live on though, through a new grandson who will one day try to tame the beast with the rest of us. We can only give our best effort and continue in his footsteps, trying to fill boots larger than our own. I never had the pleasure of fighting with this man, but I have had the pleasure of his company. Company that is now treasured in only memory and hindsight. We will stand tall in our pressed uniforms, ride proud in our sparkling red chariots and salute an old friend. I'll miss you, you grumpy old bastard. We'll still answer every call, just as you'd have wanted, but with a heavier heart.

Pin Cushion

I finished up an IV variance class not to long ago. The class itself was mainly painless(pun intended), the instructor was competent and well informed, he had good instructional material to pass along to the students, hell even sticking each other really was not that bad. It seemed as if everyone had practiced on the side prior to taking the class, so's not to look foolish while you're taking the class to teach you things you shouldn't know yet. As if you're going to get into trouble for learning during your class. I found that I have rather tough skin, as a few needles were bench trying to breach the iron wall that is my skin. That and apparently I tend to keep my veins a little farther from the surface. Pretty much no one could land a line on me, which was fun, as everyone had to try. I was the hard stick, and I of course retained my title throughout the entire process. And I walked away with only one bruise to even whisper about.

So this weekends on call shift will be my first crack at real patient insertions. In the crazy version of an ALS/BLS service I work in, I cannot start an IV without a medic there to cup my balls and make sure I don't freak out and stab the patient repeatedly with a dirty, used needle, taking directly from the sharps box of course. I'm really not that bitter, I promise. But hey it is the tag line under EMSMUTT, working in the shadows of medics. Which I of course I tell myself is short term.

Mainly I took the class to get a head start on the medic class, you know the whole, I have to know everything prior to taking the class train of thought. Anywho, class still starts sometime in January. Right now it's still to distant to really mean anything, I still work for a living and can't give up the day job just yet. Not that I'm not tested from time to time.

How Humbling...

So recently I made the large mistake of driving my favorite ladder truck into a tree. Now it's not as if I lined her up, hit the gas and wrapped my chariot around a 100 year oak. But I came up on the driveway a little "hot," cranked the wheel and and BAM, "there's a fuckin tree branch right there." This is actually what I had said in my head after I hit the sumbitch.

Let's paint the picture:
I'm already late for work as I lay in bed, being a complete slacker. The tones go out for a structure fire, smoke and flames showing. For a second I contemplate my options, get up and go to work which pleases my employer or go to the fire, which pleases me and the pour sap who's house is a blaze.

I decide to attend the fire, explaining to myself that I'm probably the only driver available at this time in the morning, well at least the only one that can drive our ladder truck, yes our ladder truck is our first out, don't get me started. In it's defense it is a tele-squirt.

As I enter the station I hit the repeater on the pager one more time to verify the address, which I can't immediately picture in my mind, not a big deal now, so I thought. I throw on the my gear, somewhat hoping or expecting someone else to arrive and drive the truck, yes it's my wishful thinking that at some point in time I might actually get to play and not drive the damn truck all the time.

Somebody asks "where're we going." I hit the repeater one more time as I walk away to jump in the truck. As I'm pulling out of the station with my rag-tag of newbies, I realize that nobody brought a pager with and the address was not written down for me. It's no loss yet as we recite the address as we remembered it.

We cruise through town, lights and sirens wailing, I travel down the road anticipating that soon I will see the chief vehicles that have arrived prior to me, lighting the runway for me, so to speak. The road forks, East or West, I have no pager, asking for the address will get you nothing but grief and a bitchy response. The crew thinks East. Literally a second after I've turned, the chief is on the squawk box, "Are you on West...?" Me, "No, negative, I'm on East...!"
Chief, "Well the address is... West ...!"
Me, "Copy that, turning around, Sh." as I let go of the mic button.

I whip the truck around at the next intersection and I stand on the gas pedal. I'm livid at this point, I don't make mistakes, I don't fuck up, I certainly don't drive away from a house on fire!

I drive past the deputy's car that's blocking traffic for me, and approach the assistant chief that points out the driveway, I turn and FUCK, I just ripped a damn branch right off a pine tree and it's now hanging off of my ladder truck. My beloved ladder truck, I'm so sorry girl.

With the assistant chief screaming as usual the firefighters remove the branch and I continue to drive forward approaching the "house fire." I was livid when I flipped the coin and guessed wrong at fork, now I'm red hot, blood pressure through the roof I hear my pulse in my ears. As I look forward to what was dispatched as a structure fire and in reality will be much much less, no smoke, no fire. The crews found a little fire in an attic space, dropped a bucket of water on it and called it good.

So let's recap the mornings festivities:
I got up from bed, not to go to work, but to fight the "big one." I drove, which meant no firefighting for me, turned incorrectly and looked rather dumb and to top it off I sheared off a rather large branch from a what was a nice pine tree. All for a bullshit fire. If I had any idea of the amount of bullshit that this fire was I would have either stayed in my fucking bed or gone to work. I felt trapped in the movie Clerks, "I'm not even supposed to be here."

Pisses me off. Listen to your gut people, as I knew I should not have gone to that call, but I did and look what happens.

"Did we learn anything from this call?" was all I got from the cheif.

Then I was of course reminded that the next time this happens I should report to the "branch officer." Great, I can't wait until the annual banquet. Shit.

New Toys

Our brand spanking new monitors have arrived! After much deliberation we decided to replace the Likepak 12s that we had been using since they came out. Our decision was to switch to the Phillips MRX monitor. I'm actually quite excited.

The new monitors will have NBP and ETCO2 which is an upgrade from the Lifepaks. All things aside Phillips can provide a better level of service compared to Lifepak. Which was the driving force behind us giving them a chance. Plus you can't beat the on screen 12 lead view.

After taking the mandatory training and some online stuff, they are here for our enjoyment. Through the weekend they are sitting in our lounges for us to play with and become slightly proficient with. I'm sure the first full arrest will be interesting, but the machine just seems so easy to use. Granted as an EMT my over zealous attitude might not be shared by many medics who've been glued to Lifepak for years.

I look forward to getting home after a long day at work and spending a little quality time with my new "partner." And as the night is going I'll get in late enough so I'll be alone, left to my own devices, insert sinister laugh.

Simple Amazing

If you didn't know or haven't had the chance to read Skywritings Blog, I would strongly recommend you take the time.

To a knuckle-dragger like myself it's simply amazes me to even write a blog much less a blog written in the same universe as hers. She writes with such a vision and in a way I could only dream of.

Her latest installment on Feb, 28th is of course no let down. In which she discovers the slightest bit of incite through an evening spent fishing. The connection with nature and the world at that one on one level is just awesome.

One can't read the post without a little jealousy. She found a "spot of time" (her term) that allowed her to reflect on her past, yet still look forward. I assume many would crave the same level of clarity or serenity. I know I do.

When you're a child the world seems so large and new, everything you touch and smell and feel, everything you see can grab you for a moment and in that moment the world stops. That moment captures you only for a second, but you felt time go by in a manner you can't describe. As you grow older your world shrinks on you, chokes you a bit. The distance between those moments increase in proportion to the speed of your life. You might not even notice, as I hadn't really noticed, that is until something jars you a bit, makes you think about your life, past, present and future. Why don't you seem to find the serenity, serenity you didn't even know you had lost.

I reflect and came to conclusion that with older eyes you might not need the vision of a toad jumping onto a new lilly pad or looking out from The Grand Tetons to find your serenity. Maybe one can create it wherever they are, just be revisiting those places, those times in their mind. I suspect that Scully's vision quest might have been boiling to the surface and giving the right avenue it did. I think that might be the answer, finding the right avenue. Your personal avenue.

Anyway stop by and pay her a visit, it was a fantastic post, it really made me think, hard.

Thank you Scully.

Sleeping Alone

I slide into bed, adjusting the pillows here and there. Enjoying the entire bed to myself, probably enjoying it more than my girlfriend would like to know. It had been a long rainy night. Driving the usual half an hour down to class through rain that wouldn't allow you to see the road much less the lines painted on it. The whole ride my mind is caught thinking about the impending final I'm about to take. How I'm pissed that it was moved up two weeks and that we haven't gone over the material that I'm being tested on tonight. But that's another post itself.

The test is as pointless as I thought. In my opinon it does little to evaluate me. I make the long journey home, to the awaiting bed and some much needed sleep.

Pillows set, blankets just right, fan on, close the shades, sprawled out like I own the place and it's "night-night."

The pager goes off, not with the usual tones that indicate a regular ambulance call, but with the "good tones." The ones indicating either a fire or a rescue call. (Rescue can mean extrication, full arrest, water rescue, ice rescue, trench rescue, I think you get the idea.)

"I need rescue out of Station #1 to.... on a full arrest" The pager screams.

I'm up and struggle a little with the blankets as they attempt to subdue me. After my own mini extrication I find my jumpsuit and radio. Seeing as I live across the damn street from the fire department along with my roommate and the neighboring house we make quite a sizable force at 2345 at night. If the girlfriend spends the night we have four EMT and two Medics basically standing-by. For a volunteer department it makes for really nice response times. We pull out with four EMTs and one Medic.

En route in three minutes, arrived in three minutes, found the PD doing CPR a minute after that, hell I think we might rival some full time joints with that kind of a response.

It looks like an ant colony going to work on this little old lady. Bags flying here and there, pads off, new pads on, ET equipment laid out and IV bags spiked ready for the Easy OI hook up.

Enter the second medic, having the better fly-by view, she halts the efforts just prior to them really starting. Assessing the possible downtime and the fact the first medic remarks that the lady's jaw is quite rigid. The decision is made to halt the efforts. A another strip is ran for confirmation.

As I rustle up my garbage and collect what's left of the IV bag I over hear the medic tell the daughter her mother is dead.

"No, No, you have to do something! You have to do something!" She protest.

"Ma'am, she's dead, she's gone, I'm very for your loss sorry"

We clear the scene, having only gotten out of bed exactly 20 minutes before.

I get home and clean up, hanging my jumpsuit on the same hook as always, boots right beside, radio back into it's charger. Waiting for their next trip.

It's impossible that her daughter will be able to sleep as well I hopefully will. It retrace the call in my mind as I fall asleep. Waiting for my personal medic to wake me up as she gets home at 0600, wondering what calls she's ran, her battles.

As usual I slept like a baby, I always do when the bed is mine.

Back in the Saddle, Somewhat

So being as last might was the first time I had been in an ambulance in just about six weeks, I thought it was worth writing about. The body of this post will of course consist of me ranting about people I hate, despised and generally like to talk shit about. Just to clear up things, I did not take a six week vacation. It just so happens that on our department we have EMS Teams. Each team covers the city for 48 hours straight, less the time you are at your regular job. I work from roughly 0700 to 1700, meaning I will respond up until about 0530 and start again at about 1730 give or take traffic. Obviously there are people who work nights on my team as well and they of course cover the day portion that I miss.

Call comes in for a older lady with chest pain. My usual medics are working a full arrest so I have two "fill ins" that will meet me and the rest of the ambulance crew at the scene.

Welcome to what I will call the "body" of the post...

Medic #1 calls in, "I'll be responding to the scene."

Medic #2 calls in, "Medic #2 same traffic."

About this time I all I can think about is Chris Farley in Tommy Boy, talking about jerking the wheel into a god damn bridge endbankment. I, like always push on, hoping that Medic #1 won't talk forever as she always does and the Medic #2 will not be the bitch that she usually is.

Before I go any further I feel it fair to air the dirty laundry and talk a a little regarding the reason for my distaste.

Medic #1, has been a medic for four years I would say, pulls down a ton of calls a year as she can jump on a call if they need people or so on. Now it's not that we are short medics, it's that when you hear her call in you probably think twice and decide not to go. She will scare people right off the rig. Mainly because she is annoying, talks a lot and I mean a lot, (about the dumbest shit I've ever heard and it all falls on deaf ears as no one even pays attention), she will argue that her treatment is correct or the most appropriate every time. The only time I will ride with her is when I have to or no one else has called in and they are short people, NEVER by choice.

Medic #2, I don't even care to know how long she has been a medic, maybe eight years or so. She's the perfect cookie cutter medic, the problem better fall into something that resembles a topic in our medical direction book, cause the patient surely won't receive anything else. She's bossy has no leadership skills and to top it all off, please continuing reading and you'll see

My very first experience with this gal was at a CPR refresher regarding the new AHA guidelines. You had to of course show your could perform and for only like a minute.

AHA instructor: "Alright, now we will go through and let everyone practice doing the new CPR, pulling our hands off the chest wall to allow for maximum recoil, any questions?"

Medic #2: "I don't do CPR, that's what I have EMTs for. Plus it hurts my wrists."

DONE, SEALED, OVER, MY FIRST OPINION OF THIS TWAT WAS FOREVER BURNED ON MY BRAIN. How dare you even utter something like that you snot nosed little prissy. Unbelievable and she is a firefighter to top it off. Yes this gal had to at one time play ruff and get dirty and pass some sort of physically agility test, but can't bother to do CPR for one minute, as if it is beneath her.

No, I'm sorry I reserve CPR for the peasant, the slightly trained chimps, you know the ones, strong back weak mind, the mouth breathers, knuckle draggers and so on. They are the ones who should be practicing, seeing as like only 2% of full arrest actually come back they might need to practice on saving a life instead of me. I just pushed the drugs like the little book tells me too. Oh squiggle line like that I push this, oh it changed to that squiggle, the book says push this next.

Thank you, that was very cathartic.

Anyway the call went relatively painless, big mouth didn't really talk to much and cookie cutter was semi-pleasant and kept to herself.

Another life saves, another check on the wall of insanity.

Old Man Fire

For those who don't know, my porthole to EMS fun is through the paid on call fire department I am a member of (we have our own ambulances of course. Generally the ratio of EMS calls to fire calls is about four or five for every one fire call. The majority being car and dumpster fires, looking at the stats fire prevention education is apparently quite successful. Although it is suspected that arson fire might rise as more people are forced from their homes due to rises int erst rates, yada yada yada. Since the chance to "play" in old man fire's world is very infrequent the next best thing is to attend a "live burn" training exercise. Now for those not in the business a live burn can mean anything from lighting wood pallets on fire in a concrete structure designed for fire training, to lighting old wrecked cars on fire. But my personal favorite is the old farm house that needs to be demolished or rebuilt. This is just such a case.

As soon as I sign up things starting sliding down hill though. One chief originally set to attend, backs out, as now I can drive and pump the fire truck. Great, just what I wanted to do, be strapped to the damn truck and miss all the fun. Next I find out my crew. One newbie know it all who's still in medic school and (see the newbie post below about the "pregnant women" below). The next is a relative of the chief and general kiss ass. Through constant mental beat downs he's slowly shaping into a good member. Beside the blood ties he is a solid firefighter, just young and naive in the world. Lastly the my personal newbie that I mentor, whom I talked into going and taking pictures as he is currently in his firefighter training and can not join in the fun just yet.

Now the department that has so graciously offered to make room for us is quite rural and as such has their own manner of conducting business. This is what I call a true fire department and they area as redneck as they come, god love em. Thankfully they have enlisted certified instructors to carry out the entire burn, without their guidance we mouth breathers would hurt ourselves. Like I said the house is a rural farm house, meaning there are not hydrants in sight, in fact the closest one is two miles away. So "drop tanks" are used. Picture a 12' x 12' swimming pool with a metal frame and tarp like bladder in which to pour water into. The water is "dropped" from a "water tender." A water tender is a fire truck made to haul water in large quantities, theirs holds 2700 gallons, mine 1500. It is then sucked out by another fire truck and then pushed into the fire lines and then hopefully onto the fire.

The comedy starts with my dumping my water. As I'm emptying the tank and chatting with my new found "water commander" friend, who might have been the class clown in high school and every other stage in his life. Anyways he takes the liberty of throwing a stack of road cones into the drop tank right next to me, which of course unleashes a nice splash directly onto me. At this point it was declared that "It was on." Over the course the day we shot each other with and fire hose we could find and of course had an absolute blast during.

ON TO THE FIRE:
My crew consisting of newbie, myself and golden boy prepare to enter the burning farm house. Pay in mind that there have been 10 previous fire in this house at that time, meaning she's hot, steamy and probably weakening before our eyes. The fire's lit, we do our walk around to size up the fire and check for anything really scary. After that newbie grabs the nozzle, with me right behind him, giving guidance and so forth. Golden boy will be making sure we have enough hose inside the house.

Here we go, the moment of truth, we're going into satan's living room. Not that my team knew, but I had asked the instructors for a "good fire," meaning multiple rooms on fire and to let us wait a little while longer before entering to let the fire grow. His only response was a large smile and a nod of the head. God I love this job. Newbie's at the door on his knees, I'm standing right behind him with the instructor to my left. By this time the entrance vestibule is rolling very nicely, flames licking out the door and over my head. Looking deeper into the house you see nothing but flames dancing, waiting for the battle with newbie. Right as newbie attempts to cool the ceiling of the vestibule with a quick shot of water the fire jumps out the front door, filling almost half of the door with a fireball. Apparently this had spooked the shit out of newbie as he is now laying on his back on the concrete steps as if he had lit a firecracker with to short of a fuse. I look towards the instructor and even though we still have masks on you can still see the smiles on our faces.

With a quick "get the hell in there" to the rookie we make entry, he knocks down the fire in the vestibule, which was only the heat and flames seeping out of the next room anyway. As he turns to look into the kitchen, which by this time is completely involved with fire, I mean floor to ceiling, he stops and attempts to shoot some water into the room and the ceiling. Only to find out his hit the nozzle and adjusted the spray to a huge fog pattern, it does nothing except wetting the door frame. Finally with much poking and a little shoving by me we enter the room. He does a good job of attacking the fire and for the most part I'm proud of him. Although he keeps saying, "I see fire" and "it's on fire should I spray it?" In between the laughter I inform him that yes, anything that is on fire can be sprayed with water. Including the floor as the smoldering pieces of the room are burning into my knees like red hot razor blades. We finally get to the stairs and try to climb them, the fire is quite intense and newbie tries quite hard to make headway. After about one minute the truck sirens all sound out in unison. Quick definition: Truck sirens mean get the fuck out and make it quick as the building might be fall down. We scramble out dragging our hose lines and accounting for everyone outside. While we were inside a portion of the roof had collapsed above us, from the inside we had never noticed, didn't hear it, nothing. But after throwing a little water on it the next crew went in and had their fun.

After a little sit down with the instructor regarding our attack we headed for the cooler and a refreshing drink. All in all I was happy with my fun, newbie did fairly well considering the amount of knee to ass convincing I had to do. He's just going through the growing pains of becoming a firefighter. I think when you join a fire department or think about putting out fires people overlook the fact that it is scary and hot, and usually hurts a little to a lot as well. You have to learn to push past your comfort level creating a new comfort level in the process. I have no doubt this fire made him a better firefighter, which is of course the entire purpose. I of course was sad as I didn't get to tame old man fire, I only instructed my newbie. I only hope that my sacrifice may save his ass once.

After that I went and threw the "water command" and the golden boy into the drop tank and yes it was full of water. One big swoop was all it took. Just about everyone was crying with laughter, even their chief.

God I love my rural brothers and sisters. In their native tongue, "that shit wouldn't fly at your department," and they are one hundred percent correct.

Vehicle Vs. Child

This was my first memorable traumatic call I had. I was very new to the department, I'd probably only been on a month or two, hell I wasn't even an EMT yet. But in the interest of getting acquainted with the ambulance and your team you rode with and helped with the heavy lifting so to speak. Our call came in on a beautifully sunny weekend morning, as all calls do of course, the temp was very reasonable and with rather low humidity so naturally I loved it, granted the cool weather did little to cool me off through the course of this call.

Our patient was a little boy maybe 7 or 8 y/o, who had been struck by an SUV while riding one of those little motorized scooters through his neighborhood. It was the usual scenario, kid pulled right out in front of me kind of a thing, which you could tell had really messed with the driver. On our arrival we saw an SUV parked on the rode with the typical mob on their knees around it, right as we came to the vehicle, the first responders were actually dragging the kid from under and boarding him, they had already collared him while under the vehicle. What I found really quite amazing though was the seeing what all the fathers in the neighborhood at done. I can only imagine everyone heard the brakes as the driver attempted to stop and once they saw that a little boy was now trapped underneath they all brought out their floor jacks and lifted the side of the SUV. I keep envisioning that these dads put a NASCAR pit crew to shame as the frantically jacked the vehicle up.

As I exited the ambulance and brought along all the different trauma boxes and peds boxes I was taught to, I stacked them all on top of the cot and wheeled over towards the vehicle. I was met by a frantic teammate, the type that can't hold her shit together when the going gets rough. She unfortunately does a bad job of showing that being a nurse as well as an EMT is a good thing. When she's in her hospital on her turf she can handle things just fine, but put this gal in the field and she's like Yogi running around a picnic basket. She literally throws the boxes off the cot so when can strap him to it and load him in the ambulance. I pick up the boxes and follow the crowd back to the ambulance.

Just as soon as my butt hits the seat the driver hits the gas, hard!. With a scene time of about four minutes we weren't sitting to bad, granted we had a good 15 minute transport ahead of us. We quickly work ourselves into a frenzy, getting vitals and IV's and bandages and everything else that's par for the course. I get an IV setup thrown at me to setup, by the nurse, she's still has the picnic basket syndrome cooking. I set up the line and hang it while handing the end for her to grab, which is when I realise just how fast we are moving and quickly grab the oh shit handles on the ceiling.

The patient was not doing so hot though, he would barely respond to pain and was posturing quite excessively. Looking into his eyes is one of the most memorable moments, one pupils was completely blown and you could plainly see it without even lighting it. I shine the pen light into his left eye and they both start rocking from side to side, (just plain creepy man). A medic made a reference to dolls eyes and it made sense but also gave a clue as to the amount of damage this kids head had suffered. I don't recall his vitals being terrible bad giving the situation, the main injury being his head. He did nothing but rythmically moan the entire ride.

We arrive at the hospital, we've done everything we could do, now it's time for the docs to take over and work their magic. I was amazed at the ER style entrance we were given. Usually we unload our own patients, card ourselves through the doors and down the hall and wait for the charge nurse to get to us and then deliver our patient to a less than patient nurse. This time was a nice change of pace. We backed into our spot, kick open the doors to find the hospital doors being held open, with additional people to unload the cot. Everythings unhooked and ready to roll, we stride down the hall and right into the movie Outbreak, everyone is gowned, gloved and masked up, ready to dive in. We throw this kid to the wolves as it were and my medics give their reports'. In hind sight I so should have stayed to watch them work on this kid, at that time it would have been quite eye opening to see all that they do.

I return to the vacant shell of our ambulance that prior to this call was properly stocked and mostly clean. Wrappers covered every inch on horizontal space. Used alcohol pads, sterile water and 4x4's lay in an emisis basin. Our version of spent shell casing from the battle that was fought. We cleaned mostly in silence.

I didn't know what to feel about this call. I could not come to grips with the fact that it might not have meant anything to me. I don't have children, sure my sisters have kids but I don't have consistent contact with them that would breed any empathy. You could feel the fear in my teammates though, they had kids and through their eyes I could see the thoughts turning in their heads.

I certainly learn a lot. I act very cool under pressure. I actually was praised for that, they said I never wavered and remained calm, did what had to be done and did it quickly. Which being the one who likes to please, I found it a wonderful compliment.

I remember being floored thinking about my perspective of this call. I was really a forth person and did little in the way of patient care, but I was able to watch the this entire story unfold. We truly were a team, individually we might be weak but together we were a solid force to be felted. That day God pushed... and we pushed back.

The Pitfalls of Earning a Paycheck

Do you ever just sit at work and contemplate if jail could really be any worse? Here I sit in my cube, yes I'm only a paid on call EMT and firefighter, and it feels like a jail cell. At least I'd get fed on a regular basis if I were incarcerated, granted I guess I enjoy using the restroom by myself and the nightly comforts of my girlfriend as opposed to the great man-gina.

But damn man the walls are closing in.

Oh, Newbies

On the same topics as the last post I give to you this fantastic story.

Dispatched for a three vehicle accident, one party requesting evaluation. BLS.

No problem, I know the location, have a crew and we're on the road. We arrive to two medics who were nice enough to stop by and check it out. They give me the medic version of "This ain't my rodeo, cowboy," and they take their leave.

I'm left with myself, I will have to drive as the remainder of my crew cannot. I have one EMT currently in medic school and a student accruing clinical hours. The patient, being a nurse herself knew the extent of her possible injuries and had requested an ambulance due to the MOI and the advise of her father, a career firefighter medic himself. Sounded fair enough to me. Now she wasn't a small gal mind you, but not huge either, maybe a pleasant 220. We placed her on the back board after collaring her. She was all situated and strapped in, with a concerned look on her face.

"Ma'am just let us know if we can pad anywhere to make this more comfortable?"

Her response was a first for me.

"I know it's a strange question, but my boobs aren't hanging out are they?"

Now trying not to look at some one's boobs but being asked to look at some one's boobs created a rather uneasy feeling.

"They're big and the cleavage has a tendency to shift, so I just wanted to make sure," she says.

"No ma'am I assure you you're covered up and everything is where it's supposed to be." "If you like we can through a blanket over you in the rig?"

"No, that's fine."

She had a good sense of humor about the whole thing, which was very nice to work with. Even if I had been asked to check her boobs while her dad stood next to me.

In the rig I help out as much as I can before we get on the road, I get a set of vitals as my "partner," god I use this term very loosely too, starts getting her information. The last thing I hear is,

"What medications do you take?"

Her only response is, "I take birth control."

Now I have to stop here and give a little more background info on my so called partner. He is all of like twenty, has the life experiences of a coddled hamster. An only child, no girlfriends that we've ever heard of and maybe been an EMT for a year. He is in medic school and of course has the "But, I'm a medic student attitude." He is just about to learn one of many lessons he still needs to learn. Something real life might have taught him, had he not been such a jack ass for the majority of his life.

His dumb ass response was,

"So you're pregnant?"

I haven't the faintest clue what this poor women, who is a nurse by the way is thinking as I hear this from the front seat.

She responds with, "No, I'm just fat."

I manage to contain my rage at his incompetence and drive to the hospital without incident. We exchange some info with the ED. Newby goes to write the report and I to clean up the rig.

Now for the ride home.

I open with, "Newby, why on god's green earth would you go ask a women on birth control if she is pregnant, are you really that f-ing ignorant? Do you have any idea how dumb you just made your (I'm a medic student-I just studied that-we did this in school) ass look? Not to mention she is completely educated in our chosen field and now probably thinks I'm just as retard as you."

The look he shot back solidified that fact that his mom might have drank a little to much while pregnant with him.

"Well I... I... I heard the word birth and..." as he just trails off.

I retort with,

"Newby I know you have a hard enough time trying to sniff a women's panties must less get into them, so that's out, you don't have sisters, so that's out, but for Christ sake at some point in time didn't you get bored while sitting on the toilet, so bored in fact you might have needed to read something. And maybe, just maybe that something came in the form of a tampon box or a birth control?" "Hell do you even watch TV, I'm pretty sure that they tell not to take if your pregnant or would like to become pregnant."

My tirade last a little longer as I continued to grind his ass.

Now I'm not mean hearted but this kid is one who needs to be knocked down a peg, but for some reason never really gets it.

Good luck in school, junior.

Excuse Me, What Was That?

Random ambulance call for a female with chest pain. Sounded simple enough over the pager. I head toward the station in my usual fashion, jump aboard the big, red, shoebox and hit the lights. Meanwhile another member of our department has so graciously responded to the scene, seeing as he lived quite close. He manages to hit all the important issues as he and the first responding officer give this little lady some much needed oxygen. With traffic not being an issue we pull up in the shoebox and start our ascent to the front door and our awaiting patient. We lock eyes with our firefighter and give him the "what do we have?" look.

He answers, very sheepishly from the patient's side, "She's got STD."

Now being dispatched for chest pain and then getting a patient with "STD" as he put it, amazing struck us odd. So almost in complete unison the entire peanut gallery shot back with,

"WHAT?"

Again, sheepishly, "She's got STD." As if he didn't want the to patient to hear any of this.

Now having no freakin idea why this is important to me I ask,

"But she's supposed to have chest pain?"

His reply, "She does, she's has a history of heart problems, her heart beats really fast sometimes."

I swear you could hear the cogs turning inside every one of our heads, as it became very apparent that the STD was quite possibly SVT.

With a quick conformation from the patient and a nice little 12 lead it was confirmed. And that my friends is just another reason to heckle the rookies. God just when you run out of material for continuously ripping on someone they drop something like this in your lap.

Needless to say, we will ride him like a rented mule until we see fit.

Sexually Active?

I love to tell this story, I only wish it was truly mine. A team member of mine was going through the clinical phase of the paramedic course and had the privilege of stumbling onto this gem. I'll set the stage. Metro EMS service, very urban area, not smart patients. They are called for female with abdominal pain. First question being, "ma'am are you or could you be pregnant?" She answers "no, I couldn't possibly be pregnant." "Well are you sexually active?" After a little thought her response was "No, I mostly just lay there." Priceless.

Nasty Medical Examiners

Ambulance call for a vehicle roll over. The rig is gone before I can slip a leg into my pants as it's Sunday morning. Another ambulance is requested for multiple patients. On that note I finish dressing and start to get a little excited, maybe they'll need an engine. Now extrication is toned out and I'm on the run to the station. I arrived first, which given my proximity to the station is business as usual. As I wait for my crew, a third ambulance is called out. Sweet, this will be a "good" call. With my crew aboard we start out to the big bad grinder. On scene a single SUV has rolled multiple times, with a total of six passengers. Two critical, one minor and two walking wounded. When the request for a tarp came in to cover the vehicle it became very apparent that the sixth and final patient was not going to the hospital. She being an unrestrained passenger sitting in the trunk space of the SUV had bounced around the compartment and suffered massive head injuries no longer conducive to life. She laid somewhat tangled in the backseat, half on the pavement and half still under the over turned vehicle. DOA. The tarp was to cover her until the M.E. could arrive. Keeping the interstate closed the entire time created a lot of rubber neckers and this little girl deserved better than that. The M.E. arrived, maybe not quite enjoying his wake up call on a sunny Sunday morning such as it was. Now I've man-handled a few patients in my time, but this man was slightly more morose than I have ever been. Using the tow truck to lift the vehicle slightly she slipped out very nicely with the M.E. tugging like he was pulling a nasty weed from the garden. Slopping bodily fluids left and right along the way. Into the bag, onto the cot and into a station wagon. This little girl maybe 15 or 16, snuffed out and this chump tosses her around like a piece of meat. Damn man, alright you hate your job, got a phone call at seven on a Sunday morning, missed breakfast, didn't get to bang the wife, whatever. But for Christ's sake try to have an ounce of respect for the dead. The only upside was that she was not outwardly damaged. The family will be able to have a very nice funeral for her, leaving them with a better memory of her than I have.

Brand Spanking New

Yes,
I've jumped on the band wagon! It seemed necessary to document the same old regurgitated crap that everyone else spews. Adding my own smoke and mirrors as needed. Mainly this will consist of my adventures in firefighting and EMS, schooling that never stops and how I seem to never stop complicating my life with both.