It'd be a lot cooler if you did

Seemed like as good an excuse as any to use both this picture and the line from "Dazed and Confused"

And, before you go into this one any further, I need to tell you this is a departure from my regular bill of fare.  One of the roles I play IRL is as a member of the Associated Fire Fighters of Illinois' Labor Orientation Committee and, as such, I spend a fair amount of time trying to educate our members, young and old, about the history of our union in Illinois and how we got the things many of us take for granted today.  It's part of a larger effort to get our members more active in both their home locals as well as the state and international union.  

Since the committee was formed, by resolution at the 2012 state convention, we've met as a group several times and put on maybe a dozen or so presentations around the state.  I don't believe we've got any quantifiable evidence of any impact, but, anecdotally we've heard of increased activity, so I guess we're at least moving in the right direction.  

One of the things I've tried to impart on our younger guys, and it's a part of what we do in our presentations, is to point out the differences between the benefits our firehouse forefathers fought for and obtained versus those in states that don't have collective bargaining laws.  Those laws btw were obtained in Illinois after a thirty year (that's not a typo, it took 30 years from the time the language was first proposed till it was signed in to law) battle (and I'm not using that word loosely, those guys fought like hell to accomplish passing the law) to require our employers (read the municipalities that employ us) to bargain with us over things like wages, hours of work, work conditions, etc. while mandating that, if impasse is reached during negotiations, an impartial arbitrator will examine both sides of the argument and issue a binding resolution by which both sides, win or lose, must abide.  

This is huge.  And it's something many states don't allow and, in fact, is illegal in a couple states.  That fact in and of itself boggles my mind.  But I can illustrate the impact of that fact pretty easily.  I can take time off whenever the calendar allows it.  If there's an opening and I've got enough accrued time built up, I can take the day off.  I can be recalled to work only in the event of some unforeseen catastrophe like a "major" fire, civil unrest, natural disaster or the like.  In 24+ years at the Deeg, that's never happened.  

Like, ever.

But a few years ago, while traveling the country with a previously mentioned merry band of fellow firefighters from across the country, including one from one of the states that makes collective bargaining illegal, my friend got a phone call from his Chief telling him his vacation day was cancelled.  Apparently a coworker had gotten an on-the-job injury and would be unavailable for his next shift.  My friends' day was unilaterally taken away from him.  He was roughly 1100 miles form home at the time.  He was also expected to report to work the next day.  

You know, this is a bit of a detour, but it's a brief one and not terribly far off course.  After September 11th a lot of America celebrated my profession and all we (occasionally) must endure as part of the job.  It didn't last long.  It never does, really.  People, many of them anyway, love us only in the moments they need us.  After that, we become a burden on society and frequent target for the things that are wrong with our economy or whatever else the "hot" (no pun intended) topic may be.  And I wish I was making that up or even exaggerating it.  

I'm not.  

Anyway, back to the example.  After a few frantic phone calls, my friend was able to make a couple trades to finish out his time out of town.  His time out of town, btw, doing nice things for people he'd never met and would never see again.  Because it was (is) the right thing to do.  

So, yeah, we've got it pretty good in Illinois but it didn't get handed to us out of the generosity of our employers.  It took guys going to jail, literally.  It took strikes, strikes that those guys very creatively put together wherein they would respond to house fires in their personal vehicles, take the hose lines from the scabs on the scene, put out the fire and then drop the hose in the front yard and go back to the picket lines.  This Silver Spanner strategy allowed them to protect the lives and property of the people they swore to protect while still getting their points across about the unfair work conditions they faced.  

So, to those of you that have made it this far, specifically those of you on the job, take the time to talk to your elders.  Ask them about the struggles our profession went through back in the day.  Next time one of your retirees stops by the firehouse for coffee quiz him on how it was.  If you or your station has a copy of the "Fiery Struggle" read it.  Take the time to understand how the benefits you have, here in 2017, came into being.  Ponder the size of the cajones those guys ad, to do what they did and ask yourself if you could do the same thing today?  Knowing you yourself may not see the benefit, but those that follow you will.  

Lastly but not leastly, do you know what collective bargaining does for you?  

Cause it'd be a whole lot cooler if you did.

Peace

Clarity

Can I just say, for the record, that when you people (yes, I said "you people") post comments to one of my posts, it warms the cockles of my heart. And who doesn't love getting their cockles warmed?  I truly, genuinely, absolutely appreciate all the kind words, thoughts and prayers.

But, and it's a big but... (I'll pause while the Sir Mix A Lot song cycles through your head) I believe there was somewhat of a communications breakdown (you hear the Zeppelin riffs now, don't you?) between my fingers and your eyes.

So, after my last post, I just want to be clear about something...

The baggage that I carry was once an over-filled steamer trunk that I dragged around with me everywhere I went, often leaving bruised shins on the people I encountered along the way.  Now it's more like a wallet.  It fits nicely in my pocket, but occasionally causes me to shift awkwardly in my seat until I find a comfortable spot.

Simply put, it's not so bad even though it still exists.  And, I think it will continue to exist in one form or another, very likely, for the rest of my days.  I'm ok with that, fwiw.  Even if it severely restricts or even eliminates, the chances of meeting "someone".  Because fine though I may be, I'm not convinced I've learned how to incorporate "someone" else into that.  Again, fwiw, if that's how it is, I'm ok with that too, you know?

On top of all that, I'm apparently becoming quite the curmudgeon.  I know, right?  I was shocked too.  But if you ask most of the new guys at work, I think it's pretty much unanimous.  New guys.  Go figure.

Back to the matter at hand, I wanted to get my view on my own state of mind out there, because after reading the comments on my last post, I got the impression many people thought my grief was still crippling me.

It's not.

Don't get me wrong, I miss Diane and Caitlin every. single. day.  I always will, of course.  But I don't feel that their loss defines me.  And I'm pretty sure any confusion on that topic falls on me, or rather on the way I wrote what I wrote.  It's far easier, it seems, to describe the depths of the grief I lived through than it is to describe where I am today.  Further, I don't write what I write (or speak at Victim Impact Panels for that matter) because I crave sympathy.  As I tell the folks at the VIP's I fully recognize how blessed my life has been despite any hardships I may have faced.  I don't feel like I need anyone's sympathy.  I've never spoken to any of the kids about this, but I feel fairly confident in saying that when they post or talk about things associated to Caitlin or Diane, they aren't looking for sympathy either.  Whether it's marking an anniversary date or just a reminder of the consequences of driving drunk, our posts are meant as a PSA (that's Public Service Announcement, not Prostate Specific Antigen btw) to keep other families from having to face what we did.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Even if I use this space as a means to post a favorite picture of one or both of them.  Like this one.

(Pay no attention to the hair on that man, it's premature gray.  And a bad camera angle.  For real.  I swear.  No really.)

Even if I write about the bittersweet way life often presents things to us.  Obviously a very powerful, though brief, moment for our plucky author.  Sharing an incredibly heartwarming moment in my young granddaughter's life, imagining how much Diane and Caitlin would have enjoyed that moment was, in that instant, hard to come to terms with.

But it was a moment I wouldn't trade for the world.

Peace

16th day of February

Well, today marks the eleventh time February 16th has come around since Diane died.  This isn't the first time I've written about her on her birthday, but it's been five years since I did so...

I guess I feel like it's not overdoing it to put one up today.

This day has certainly gotten easier to deal with over time.  The first couple were a little rough, but over time, the edge has been taken off.  I won't say it's just another day at this point in time, but it doesn't compare to the kind of day it used to be.

I think instead of trying to reminisce about a specific birthday, I'd rather rip open the nerves around that first few days after she died.

Even though there's so much I don't (can't) remember from that time.

Here's what I do remember.

I remember telling the Boy Child to go home, I didn't need him to stay at the house with me.  I could take care of myself.

I lied.

If it wasn't for Sophie having to go outside regularly, I doubt I would have come out of my room.  I really had no desire to do much of anything at that time.

I remember checking up on the kids, to make sure they were "ok" and to "be strong" for them.

I wasn't.

Strong, that is.

I remember telling the friends and family members that called to check up on me that I was fine.

I wasn't.

I remember telling the guys from the firehouse to stop sending food up to me, that I was perfectly capable of feeding myself.

I wasn't.

Now, to be clear, my dietary habits have never been great.  I was blessed with a metabolism that allows (well, allowed) me to eat crap (figuratively) and not gain weight.  But I lived on junk food at that time because I had no desire to cook anything for myself.

I remember feeling survivors guilt because I didn't "do more" when Diane was in the hospital.  And, I spent a lot of time wondering what I could (should?) have done differently.

I remember hearing people tell me they were amazed at my "strength" after what I'd been through and thinking to myself "you have no idea.  None."  That's actually how I came up with the title for this blog.  It was how I felt.  Often.  Calm on the surface while underneath I was paddling like a madman to try and stay afloat.

But I really did feel like I had a good handle on my grief back then.  I feel like I still do.  In retrospect, I probably should have sought some counseling, to make sure I stayed afloat.  I'm not sure it would have helped but it sure wouldn't have hurt.

I think I'm going to try and end this on a brighter note, by telling one of the stories I use often at Victim Impact Panels to illustrate how close Diane and Caitlin were.

It was a Saturday, before Mother's Day in 2002.  I was at work (naturally, all the best stories happened while I was at work) and Diane and Caitlin spent the entire day cleaning the townhouse we lived in.  Cleaned it from top to bottom.  Afterwards, they were taking a break, standing in the kitchen, when Caitlin came up to Diane, put her arm around her and said

"Mom, we worked hard today."

Diane said "Yes we did"

"We should do something nice for ourselves."

Diane looked at her.

"Mom, let's go get our belly buttons pierced."

Diane said "Are you crazy?  I'm 47 years old, I'm not going to get my belly button pierced!"

Caitlin said "C'mon Mom, it'll be a bonding thing.  It's my Mother's Day gift to you."

Diane said "Ok.  But don't ever tell Grandma."

Happy birthday baby.

Peace

Baggage

Sometimes around here the words flow from my brain like so many birds through a swarm of bugs, gobbling ideas up left and right without a moments hesitation.

Other times, not so much.  Check that, MOST times not so much.

Ideas come to me fairly often, but typically at a time or place where documenting even a scrap of a thought for later reference is not gonna happen.  Driving down the highway for instance or standing in the shower.  That may not seem like much, but if you know me IRL, you know how easily I get distracted by something sparkly.

This one has bounced around for a few days but I think I have a reasonable handle on how I want to say what I want to say.

So here goes.

I worked yesterday.  Part of the day involved our monthly paramedic training courtesy of our hospital.  It's not an easy task, trying to keep a bunch of Type "A", easily amused, borderline juvenile delinquent, Alpha Males on point, especially when it's a rather mundane part of the job.  I think, without confirming it with anyone, most of the disciplinary actions that take place around any given fire department occur due to relative inactivity.  If we're busy running calls everyone is too preoccupied with "the job" to find much time for shenanigans.  Kind of an "idle hands..." thing, you know?  Our Continuing Education (ConEd) while important, is not the kind of thing that tends to hold our attention for long periods of time, despite the best efforts of any instructor we've ever had in my 24+ years here, regardless of the topic.    So, when I tell you yesterday's training was on Legal Aspects of paramedicine, I challenge you to stifle the yawn involuntarily working it's way through your system right now.

Can't do it, can you?

Now, for clarity, I came to the realization many years ago, the things we love about our job usually involve someone else having a bad day.  Very bad.  Sometimes the worst day they've ever experienced.  And I don't wish misfortune on anyone.

Mostly anyone.

I kid, I kid.

Mostly.

So my days of wishing for calls has gone by the wayside.

However, and this is a big however, I will gladly take any kind of call during paramedic training.  The earlier in and the longer the call the better.  Just sayin.  So yesterday when we were mercifully called out, I was not at all unhappy about it.  Until we got to the call.

Again, for clarity, I'm at a spot where this might go off the rails and I want to be very careful about how I proceed.  I want to get a point or two across, but I don't want to throw stones at anyone.  I may edit this a couple times before it sees the light of day, I may can it altogether, but if you're reading to this point, please bear in mind I'm upset at systems and NOT people.

The call came in for someone with a service dog wanting to go to the semi-local VA hospital.  We'll go there even though we pass several other hospitals along the way, if it's in the best interest of the patient and not a threat to his or her medical fragility.  Once maybe twice a year is all.   Also the service dog part was a first, at least for me and the rest of our crew.

We were met by our patient's supervisor who told us the patient was a vet with significant PTSD issues who was in need of treatment at the VA.  We entered the room and two things jumped out at me.  Our patient was seriously upset.  His movements were exaggerated and animated, he looked disheveled and wild eyed and he was just short of screaming at the top of his lungs.  And his dog was completely stressed out by the whole situation.  At some point in the almost instant assessment we have to make we need to determine if a roomful of strangers is the best approach or if it will cause more harm than good.  We all instinctively backed away, save for one of our crew, also a vet.  But watching through the small side window next to the door we could see the dog was still upset, pacing and panting.  The volume the patient was speaking probably didn't help the dogs demeanor either.  He yelled at the dog a few times, I'm sure due to his own personal stress, and she didn't seem to know how to respond to him.  My Lt. made the decision to enter the room and lead the dog out and, after a few minutes I found her at my feet.  So, I tried to calm her.  I mean on top of the patients situation, an agitated dog would do no one any good since none of us knew her or how she would react.  She wouldn't (and really never did) respond to any commands I gave her but I think that's probably a function of her job as a service dog.  I mean she's probably trained to respond only to her human, otherwise it could get confusing for all parties concerned, right?  At any rate, since she stayed by me I crouched down by her and started talking to her in my best cool, calm and collected voice while stroking her face and back slowly to try and calm her.  It worked fairly well, I think.  She sat or laid at my feet the whole time she was by us.  I noticed her breathing slowed quite a bit (which I took as a good sign) even though it was still faster than normal.  And, when I'd stop petting her, she'd nuzzle back into my lap trying to bury her face in my legs.

I need to take a few seconds here and give a shout out to the DG coppers that responded.  I think they may have been in afternoon roll call when this started because they were significantly behind us and that's unusual.  I mean, they're out on the streets while we're in a firehouse, so they almost always get wherever before we do.  We had been on the scene for a few minutes when our dispatch asked if we still needed PD there, the officers were held up by a train passing through town.  The Lt. said no, they could disregard.  It was the right call too, since our patient had calmed quite a bit, even though he was still resistant to go for treatment.  A little while later though, as his voice grew louder and more upset, "Lou" asked dispatch to send a couple coppers to the scene.  Looking through the window he could see the patient was still seated, but the potential for escalation was certainly there.  And, while none of us wants to get into a physical confrontation with any patient, when it comes to the safety of our partners, we sometimes have to deal with a situation in that way.  We drew up a dose of medicine just in case too.  When the PD made it there, they dealt with this scenario about as well as I've seen in my time here.  Very low profile, let our guy deal with the patient, but right outside the door in case stuff went south.  And when our patient finally came out for the transport to the VA, they were supportive to both us and the patient.  One of them took the service dog while the other trailed our procession just in case.

I'm not going to write about the demons our patient talked about.  But hearing it made me terribly sad.  It's not a new phenomenon, going to war.  Humans have been doing it since the dawn of time.  We've gotten so good at war and yet, we as humans, still suck at dealing with the emotional aftermath.  Why is that?

That's rhetorical btw.  No need to answer.

Our ambulance crew made it to the VA without incident.  About the best outcome any of us could have hoped for.

PTSD is a real thing.  It's an insidious, vile disease that robs people of any semblance of normal functionality.  It can cause them to do things they normally wouldn't dream of doing.

To total strangers, to themselves, to loved ones.

And it's not specific to the military either.  Cases involving Police and Fire are happening in numbers very similar to the Armed Services.

I guess what I'm trying to say, in my own awkward way, is to be aware of your fellow human beings. Offer a kind word, not only to those you know, but to total strangers.  No one truly knows what's going on inside the brain of someone else until you make the effort to find out.  Be less quick to judge.  Be quicker to support and encourage.  If you can help someone, please do.  If you know someone that may be dealing with PTSD or any other emotional "disorder" please encourage them to seek some type of supportive care.  If you're the one dealing with various demons, please remember you're not alone.  Seek out help, in whatever non-destructive way you feel comfortable and keep trying till you find the thing that works for you.  Believe it or not, each of us is important to someone, for any number of  reasons.

Peace