Umm, wait, you asked her what???

As regular readers are aware, I've gotten significant mileage from our steady (some would say unending) stream of new guys at work.  For proof you need look no further than here or here or here and my point is proven.  Fwiw, Wes, the second "here" above, has the distinction of being #2 on my list of all-time page views.

By, like, ten percent over number three.

So you've got that going for you Wes...

I had just about given up hope of gleaning any nuggets from our current new guy.  He settled in to our particular routine rather quickly and, though he's new with our department, he's been in the fire service for a little while, so he knows what's expected of him and how to fit in to life at a firehouse.

But then, last night happened.

Actually the call came in first thing in the morning, within minutes of our 7:00 AM shift change.  It was for a woman in her 20's with abdominal pain.  Both units (Engine 3 and Medic 3) responded since there's a high probability a call of this type will result in ALS care (read full paramedic skills) being needed.

Our new guy, let's call him "Dan" (especially since that's, you know, his name) was the passenger on M-3 meaning he takes the history, does the assessment and determines the course of treatment we'll initiate.  He's also responsible for reporting to the hospital via cell phone to tell them what we found, what we've done, and to see if the hospital wants anything further done care-wise, and finally, documenting the call as a written report.

Since the young lady met us at the door of the building we were sent to (not unusual) and was immediately ushered in to the back of M-3 along with three of our crew members, I didn't feel the need to crowd in.  Also, when we pulled up, we blocked in a delivery guy parked in the fire lane.

That's an added bonus that I delight in more than I probably should.  Blocking in someone that's parked where they shouldn't be, that is.  Hey they're called "fire lanes" for a reason, amirite?

However. as our actor (acting Lieutenant) and I were standing alongside the ambulance, behind the delivery van, I saw the back up lights come on, indicating this guy thought he could get out by backing along the side of the ambulance.

This was a poor idea imho.

I could have responded in one of two ways; either lighting the guy up and telling him he could sit and reflect on his poor decision making skills until M-3 was done or by telling him to wait while I moved the Engine out of the way so he could leave.  Being the pleasant, agreeable, people-loving person I am, I chose the latter.

What?  I'm pleasant as hell, dammit!

So, I relocated and as soon as we cleared from this call, we caught another and the day spun off into the type of day where we don't necessarily catch up with details of our goings ons until later on.

Which brings us to the dinner table last night.  Figuratively.  At least I don't think any of you have figured out time travel...

So, sitting around the table, talk turned to our first call of the day and I heard someone reference Dan asking the patient when she last had intercourse...

See the title for my reaction.

To be a little more accurate I think I used a word that is ofttimes used in place of intercourse and rhymes with a word in the name of this blog.  No, not "relate"...

What, exactly, were you thinking Dan?  His response was something along the lines of wondering if she might be pregnant.  That, btw, is a reasonable query.  One of the typical questions we ask of female patients between "16 and 60" experiencing abdominal pain, is "any chance you're pregnant?"  This is relevant in developing a diagnosis as things like an ectopic pregnancy can be serious medical conditions and shouldn't be overlooked.  Additionally, we're trained to ask when her last menstrual period was for the same purpose.

Now, I know the paramedic curriculum has changed in the years since I became one.  I think many strides have been made to produce superior paramedics.  I think it's more than reasonable to suggest that today's paramedic students come out on the street with a far better base of knowledge than we did back in the Stone Age.

But that particular question put me back on my seat and involuntarily produced my best Dad face.  Which was instantly followed by nonstop harassment of young Dan.  And more than a little ridicule.  Of course, it was all in good fun.  Dan's a pretty good cook, so you have to walk a fine line when it comes to verbal beat-downs.  No one benefits from an angry cook.  Least of all my palate.

Ahh new guys.  Entertainment at it's finest.

Peace

Let us give great thanks.

It's sometimes hard to remember this, but we really do have much to be thankful for.

Let me explain.  No, there is too much.  Let me sum up...

At the Boy Child's suggestion, I just binge-watched (the binge-watching part was my idea fwiw) "The Man in the High Castle" on Amazon Prime.  It's set in America in 1963 but the hook is that the U.S. lost World War II to the Axis.  America west of the Rockies is Japanese territory and America east of the Rockies is German territory.  The Rockies are known as the Neutral Zone and are controlled by neither side.  I highly recommend it, it's a really well done show.

But, watching it, watching how things might have been, it kind of makes one appreciate just what we've got here.

Without going off on a political tangent here, we should all be thankful for where we live.  Warts and all, this is still a pretty great place to be when you look at the world as a whole.

And this retrospective mood makes me think of things like the decisions we make; the mundane, day-to-day, run-of-the-mill coin flips that end up having a more significant outcome than we ever could have imagined.

When I took my first EMT class, a million lifetimes ago, I had no way of knowing I'd end up here.

How could I?

And now, as I near the end of my career here in beautiful Downers Grove, I can't help but think of all the things I've done; the calls I've been on, the people I've met, the places I've gone, the lives I've touched and those that have touched mine.

The fodder it has given to a budding blogger...

For instance, let me tell you about the Naked Man fire.

This particular tale occurred in early January of 2009.  Sometime around midnight or 1:00 AM we got a call for a house fire.  On this particular night I was riding backwards on Engine 3, that is to say, I was responsible for grabbing the hose line off the engine and putting the fire out.  As we pulled onto the block we could see smoke and the flames reflecting off the trees.  Pulling up to the front of the house I looked to see what was coming our way and I saw a tri-level house with flames out a window on the ground floor of the west side and a man in a second floor window on the north side of the house with light smoke coming out from behind him.  Two of our Coppers were standing in the front yard, it appeared they were talking to him.  I imagine trying to keep him calm and telling him the fire department was here and that the FD would get him out.

As I walked around the back of E-3 to grab the hose line, I looked back up at the window.  The man wasn't there anymore.  I thought that was probably a bad sign as I walked up to grab the crosslay (the hose is literally side-to-side across the middle of the engine) and flake it out on the front yard.

I reached up and grabbed the hose, pivoting to load it onto my shoulder so I could deploy it, and as I spun around to again face the house I was met by one of the police officers.  Something wasn't quite right and in the few seconds it took him to get to me, my mind quickly processed what was different about him.

He was carrying a one-legged, naked man, bear-hug style, in front of him.

Now, that's not something you see every day.

Even in this job.

I was particularly pleased with myself for not bursting out laughing.

And when Scott (the cop) asked me where I wanted the naked man, I helpfully pointed to Medic 3, parked several houses away, and told him they'd be more than happy to help him with his cargo.

The rest of the fire was pretty uneventful.  Damage was contained to the kitchen (where it originated) and no one was injured, including the naked man.  He was a WWII vet, btw, lost his leg in the war, and he also liked to sleep in the nude.  Which explains his predicament at the time of the fire.  Scott and Brian tried to go in and get him before we got there, but they started to become disoriented in the smoke and decided, wisely, to get back out before they got themselves in trouble.

So, as I look at all the things for which I am thankful, and there are many, I'll always be thankful for the decision to take that first EMT class and the path it has led me along from there.

Someday, I may even be thankful for Daffodils.

Maybe.

Don't hold your breath.

Happy Thanksgiving!

And

Peace

Not surprisingly, I'm a day late...

So, last night, I went to the annual Badge Pinning ceremony at the firehouse.  This is, for those wondering, (actually, whether you're wondering about it or not, this is what it is) the evening where any employees that have
A.) been promoted
B.) successfully finished probation or
C.) been added to our little family in some other fashion i.e. hired in from another FD e.g. last night we added a Deputy Chief hired in from a neighboring department.
D.) can you (and by "you" I mean "me") use i.e. and e.g. in the same sentence?
E.) I don't really care, I'm just curious
F.) if you don't like it call the blog police

As I was saying, last night the above mentioned got their badges and were welcomed in to our humble, little, FD family.  It's a nice event and it seems to get bigger every year, although we did add six (Jesus, six of them!) new guys off probation.  The six included the previously famous Shawn and the equally famous Wes and so, that's what drew me to last night's event.  I figured the least I could do was come in and congratulate them, since they were the fodder for so many laughs on my part.

Which brings me to my point.  Kind of.

By the time I got back home it was 9:30 ish.  Typically, around this time I'm calling it a night.  But, last night, since Sophie was stuck in the house for the evening, I figured instead of just taking her out to the backyard to go about her end-of-the-evening business, we'd go for a walk around the neighborhood.  It was a lovely November evening, cool, crisp, and clear and we wandered around one of her familiar courses unremarkably.

But at one point, while Sophie took a break in the yard of a neighbor, I looked up at the stars and saw the constellation Orion.

Now, to be clear, I'm not a big astronomy guy.  I can find the Big Dipper and the North Star but beyond that, I'm not going to be able to help you find anything useful and/or educational in the sky.  And I hope you can appreciate the restraint I'm using here to not make a joke about Uranus...

But I digress.

The reason I always look for Orion, which is actually pretty easy to find this time of year, it's in the Eastern sky and it looks like this-

The three vertical stars in the center of the picture are referred to as Orion's Belt and that's what I look for.  But back to the why.

In early 2003, when the Boy Child was somewhere in the Middle East, in the build up to the invasion of Iraq, it was something that helped ease the jangled nerves of an Army Dad.

I'm not sure why it brought comfort to me.  I think it had something to do with the thought that, I could see this object, millions of miles away, and, on the other side of the planet, he could too.  I'm not sure if he could, of course.  Even if he knew to look for it.  But the thought that he could helped deal with the reality that one of the beings I was responsible for, was no longer in a position where I could do anything about anything that might happen.

As a parent, that was one of the most difficult things I had to learn.  I wrote about that time in greater detail for Memorial Day but, seeing that belt last night, on Veteran's Day, every memory came flooding back to me, as it often does when I look for that particular constellation.

I think the only thing I posted on social media yesterday was the link to a website that helps homeless vets (something no vet should ever be, but that's a post for another time) and I did send him a text yesterday, but I just wanted to say here, for the world (or at least my handful of regular readers) to see...

Not just for Veteran's Day, but for every day, I love you and I'm so very proud of the man you've become.

Peace.

The girls volume V

Well, on the heels of all the excitement over the last week, what with the Cubs winning the World Series and... what the heck... it seems like there was something else... Oh yeah, the end of civilization as we know it (just kidding) I almost overlooked the 5th and final episode of everyone's favorite serial blog post.

This is quite ironic actually.

Because today, in addition to being Dalmy's birthday (YAAY Dalmy!) it's also MY birthday.  We've exchanged texts both yesterday and today and acknowledged each other on social media today.  And as I sat here, thanking those that have sent a post of kindness to my page, I realized that I have yet to pay tribute to one of my favorite people on the planet.

From Mel to Sarah to Meg to Ashley with a chaser of Megan's wedding we have shared many laughs and more than a few tears as we think back on how we've come to this point in our lives.  I've said it before and I'll say it again and again until the day I die, I love each of these girls like they're my own flesh and blood.

But now, it's Dalmy's turn.

As with the rest of the girls, I don't remember the first time I met her, but also as with the rest of the girls, I can't imagine her not being around.  I do, however, remember her Mom's homemade tamales.

Oh. Good. Lord.

They were ambrosia in a corn husk.

Excuse me for a few minutes while I get my taste buds back in line.

Ok, I'm back.

I've probably seen more of Dalmy since Diane died than I have any of the other girls.  She was, for more than a little while, at the advent of the smartphone era, my personal technology consultant (whether she knew it or not, lol) and I remember more than one frantic call or text to her wondering how I did something to my phone and asking how I could undo it.  She shepherded me through the whole process with the patience of a caregiver steering a doddering old man (a more accurate analogy than I care to admit) to the dining hall of the senior center.  And the pirate and I went to dinner with Dalmy and John (with an "H") before they got married.  We had a really nice time too.  Plus I seem to recall being at her townhouse when she got Lucien too.

I think, however, my favorite Dalmy memory (with bonus Megan props too!) is probably this...

The Christmas after Diane died, Dalmy and Megan made HUGE holiday greeting cards for the Boy Child and I.

I mean, physically huge.

Like Early Ed art project paper big.

All handmade, with a festive coffee cup filled with candy and a bracelet that had each of their names on it.  They were really very sweet (and I felt horrible when the bracelet finally fell apart).  It put a smile on my face and in my heart at a time when I needed it most.  See, that's the thing about these girls.  They always seem to know when I need an emotional lift.  And when it comes to them, all it takes is a text, phone call or social media post to get my spirit right.

Since I'm in the high-rise district today, I want to wrap this literary treasure up.  So I'll close simply by saying this.

Happy, happy birthday Dalmy!  I love you!

Peace

Metaphors

Just breathe America.

Regardless if your candidate won or lost.

Believe me, this wasn't the outcome I expected or the one I'd hoped for.  And, even though I'm a lifelong Democrat, the Dem candidate was, in all honesty, my third choice.  But I voted for her because I believed she offered the best chance to do the best for ALL of us.

So much of our future is up in the air, as it would be had she won.  I'm not sure any of us knows with any certainty what to expect from the next four years.  I admit, I was encouraged by the remarks I heard and the humility I saw in last night's speech by the President-elect.  Perhaps he truly recognizes that he does, in fact, represent all of America and not just the lunatic fringe that embraced him.

And before you get your undies in a bunch, I'm not calling all of you that voted for him crazy.  Only the KKK and American Nazi party members.

You may know who you are, I don't think I want to.

To my liberal family and friends, I'd like to go baseball with you.  As was reported often during this World Series winning season, Joe Maddon gave this team thirty minutes to celebrate a win or fume over a loss.  After that, it was time to move on.  As the family youths have taken part in sports over the years, I've tried to send a similar message, most recently to the Heir to the Throne.  When he has a bad at-bat; fooled by a pitch, "victimized" by an umpire's strike zone, robbed of a hit by a fielder, whatever, I told him to learn from it.  Don't dwell on it, rather he should prepare himself for his next at-bat so he doesn't repeat the "mistake" and move on.

So I now say the same thing to you, my Dem friend.  Examine what could be done differently.  By you.  I've spent the last few years worth of union meetings urging my younger coworkers to get politically active.  I have the same message for you.  Are you unhappy with the results from last night?  Don't expect someone else to do the heavy lifting for you.  Get up, go out, and do something about it.  Contact the local office of the political party of your choice and ask how you can help affect the future.  Democracy is not a spectator sport and if you don't like the outcome, but did nothing (or not enough) to make change, fix that.

To my conservative friends and family, I'm glad none of you made a wager with me over the outcome last night, I would owe you a large sum of money today.  Congratulations on your "win" but please, remember, there isn't a "Red" America and a "Blue" America.

There is only an America.

An America built by immigrants.  By natural born citizens.  By men and women.  By all races, creeds, colors, religions, sexual orientations.  You name it.  Some segment of that population has contributed to the America we celebrate (or should) today.  It's not perfect.

But it never has been.

And it never will be.

As I try and bring this to a close I've got a really cheesy metaphor for you...

Be like a dandelion and Let. It. Go.  

Let go of the anger, let go of the resentment, let go of the frustration, but most of all, let go of the fear.  Fear leads us to terrible places.  It does none of us any good.  Focus on the things that unite us rather than those that divide us.

And work to change the things you can.

Peace