To my fellow first responders...Good luck

Canal Street from My Hotel

I tend to bitch a lot...About work...The weather...My partner. But this week I was reminded that things could always be worse. I have been glued to my TV, watching the images coming out of New Orleans and other Gulf Cities in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. I feel for all of the cities, however NO holds a special place in my heart for I had lost my Mardi Gras virginity to the city this past February. I spent almost a week wandering around the city armed with my trusty Nikon. I wandered down Bourbon Street the first night with my camera sharing my neck along with strands of plastic jewel toned beads and thick feather boas, enjoying everything the French Quarter had to offer. We stayed in a hotel on Canal Street over looking the parade route. For almost a week I went through the open air markets, ate Muffalatas from Central Grocery, gumbo from the street vendors and drank Hurricanes (the drink, not the storm) from Pat O'briens. We celebrated the conclusion of the Endymion Parade at the Superdome in formal "grown-up" style. (my cousin rides in the parade every year)
I spent my last day in the Garden District taking shots of the grand homes and cemeteries.


Bourbon Street


So I watch from my station in SC were I work, dry and cooled by AC, glad I'm not there; but still part of me wants to be there helping with the rescues. I watch as my fellow trained first responders pluck people from the rooftops of the waterlogged homes. I watch the evacuation of the Superdome, a place that not so long ago I stood with a bottle of Southern Comfort jumping up and down to the music of Cowboy Mouth with my neck weighted down with thousands of beads. I saw an arieal shot of ambulances lined up on an overpass waiting for the order to go in. I wish their was more my trained hands could do. However, I feel that a disaster like this would push me to my breaking point. The scenes from the Gulf state have brought back memories to my co workers here in Charleston of Hugo. The old timers that were here during that storm recite their stories, of the destroyed shelters, of the storm serge, of the mass evacuation of the flooded ERs as if it just happened. I listen and wonder if I would be able to keep myself together during a storm. I started his job with the thought in the back of my mind that I would not be able to evacuate with the rest of my family. That I would be stationed in the shelters to ride out the storm.


Garden District


I wish the best to the cities devastated by the Hurricane. I wish the best of luck to my fellow Medics, EMTs, and Fire/ Rescue personnel.

oh screw this

I was off today. Did much of nothing. Except I did find two dresses for my aunts wedding this weekend. I was able to get a 120 dollar dress for...wait...13 dollars, yes thats right 13...1-3. was I ever happy. So shopping was very fulfilling. Then I had lunch/dinner with my mother after a wonderful day of laid-back of doing nothing. So now I can spend more money on shoes, one of my other addictions, for the wedding. And I'm also the photographer for the wedding. So Stress, what? This is because the grooms daughter, my new cousin, is a professional photographer. I have seen her work and it is unbelievable. However fine art. Very diffrent from my style, which is very photojournalistic. But still unfuckingbelievable. But my aunt asked me. Now my aunt is a bit of a perfectionist so I'm now under a microscope. And if kinda stresses me out.

Slow down, chill out

My partner drives me nuts. I still don;t understand why the supervisor who does the schedule puts two people together who never mesh and when she mistakingly give you a partner you love and work well together she splits you up. EMS is not supposed to be fun! what was I thinking!? Now I'm just bitching. But he does drive me crazy. He forgets sometimes that it's NOT his emergency. And does everything half-assed. Restocking, check off, station duties. If you not going to do it right, I'd rather you not do it. AHHHgh! Anyways, other than that it's been a slow shift. four calls. Only one of any note was the one at 430 this am. Gunshot wound (or GSW if you want to sound like us) to the head and chest. I can't say much due to it being an open investigation and this being a public forum, Just that it was a big ol mess. We RSI (see further posts for info on RSI) him because though he was leaking grey matter out of the large hole in his head he still had a gag reflex and purposeful movement. And we quickly transported him to the Trauma Center. As of 500 he was still alive.

Has it been a slow news day? Why is the Today show doing a report on "girl crushes" WTF?

argh...stop! Sleep!

I can't sleep. And I have to be up at o'dark thirty for work in the am. I have even taken my nighttime meds for my migraines, which are supposed to help me sleep, however they are not working. So Now I sit, typing, listening to Sarah Mclachlan and watching CSI: DVDs. I have a serious ADD problem. Maybe if I just cut all the crap off my mind will quit racing and I might actually get sleep. But most likley I will just lay in the dark with my thoughts, wide awake.

the first 48

So I figured it out. If its not hot as fuck here, its pouring ass raining. either way it makes my job miserable. My relief called out yesterday, which in turn forced me to stay at work for 48 hours. 48 fucking hours...at work...in the rain. And of course people can't stay on the raod when it's raining, they must flip their car over in a ditch, which because its been raining, is full of mud up to my eyeballs so that I must wade out to them to help them. My first call of the day yesterday was just that. This poor kid jack-knifed his truck on a busy highway and ended up upside-down in a ditch with a broken leg. Now I will give him credit, he did extricate himself from the wreakage, kudos to him, however he could only get as far as the middle of the ditch before he passed out from the pain of having a mangled leg. So I'm up to my knees in mud trying to put him on a spine board, which kept sinking in the mud, and it was still raining. So now I'm covered in mud and soaking wet. When we got him to the hospital the doctor asked "is it raining still Outside?" No fucker I took a bath in the mud pit before I came. I love my job. However this was the only fun I had for two days. The rest was chest pain since friday, my child is blowing spit bubbles, and I can't feel the side of my face after smoking pot. Who taught these people that 911 was a taxi service downtown? I don;t know about you people, but I was taught growing up you didn't call an ambulance for toe pain, unless your fucking toes were falling off one by one. I was told dead or dying you call and ambulance, in otherwords, an EMERGENCY. Not paranoia from smoking to much weed.

Baby sis moves on

I helped my baby sister move into the dorm today. She starts college classes on Tuesday. I have spent the last week trying to keep my mother from crying ever time she calls because their "Baby is moving out" and my father from making excuses to try and keep her home. I don't remember all this drama when I moved out. However I was the oldest and they still had my sister to coddle and protect from the Big Bad Real World. As I moved her in I was a bit jealous, I did not have the college experience that all my friends had. I graduated from the local Tech School with a degree in Graphic Design and Photography, I did not go to "real college" as in dorm life and rush week. I got into Art school after getting my degree, however I was working the the ER and found that a bit more interesting. I felt I could not make a living with my true passion of photography, so I joined the ranks of EMS. But sometimes I feel a bit left out when my cohorts speak of dorm mates and trying to make it to class with a hangover. (most of my classes were luckily at night)

Not to say I regret anything, had I went to Art School, I would have ended up in some cubicle in front of a computer screen designing logos, instead of behind the wheel of an ambulance racing across town to and from whatever emergency is going on. I would not have the life changing experiences that I can now claim. I would not have held a man's heart in my hands keeping him alive while the skilled surgeon stitched the hole in his heart up. And with this job I can afford to stay behind my camera without the worry of having to shoot lame weddings to keep me in shelter and clothing. I can shoot what I love, not what I have to.

Im just a girl...

It was hot as fuck today. And I spent most of the day on the top of a 5 story fire tower for Technical Rope rescue training. High angle rescue and confined space. This in a city where the tallest building can't be taller than highest church steeple. But still I train in the heat, with the boys. I felt like such a girl today though. About halfway through training I quit sweating and began to see double. This while being dangled three stories above the ground. I almost didn't go over the edge. I looked at the boys and kept saying " I can;t do this" However they basically told me its too late and that I could do it. SO I went over the edge. I had a "patient" in the stokes basket who's airway I was supposed to manage by swinging the basket in front of me and slinging my legs up to straddle the head of the basket. Try doing that in the early stages of heat exhaustion and with limited lower body strands. The boys don't realize sometimes that I have a little less body mass and strenth than they do. To them I'm just one of them. I'm not to proud to admit it, Sometimes I play like a girl. I just kept looking up at the two that were leaning over the edge yelling down to me "Put the rope in between your legs and step up into the loop to flip the basket over" and "Use your legs to fling yourself up onto the head" Of course I'm dizzy by this time and just layed down in my harness, closed my eyes and centered myself. As I began to gather my strenth my "patient" asked me if I was okay. "yup", then sat up and used everything I had left to maneuver around the head. That took everything out of me. As soon as I hit the ground I ran to the air conditioned truck and fought of the waves of nausea. I felt like such a weak girl. I know they don't judge me, But I still feel inadequate.

What is this handbasket...and where are we going?

I had a pretty uneventful day. Had the internal conflict of "should I go to the gym?" The gym eventually won out after my sister came by to go with me. Then we went to dinner, had grilled mahi which was tasty. While watching CSI:Miami DVDs, realized That I had to go to work tomorrow. I'm somewhat tired of the daily ins and outs of EMS. Yesterday at work I got fussed at for having one report in my Inbox and the fact I missed 3 linen savers and 4 fill needles on morning check-off the shift before. Apparently the crew after me did a check-off and had three pages of missing stuff. When I went back over the list they made, it was basically three pages of the same 12 things. 9 of which was already on the discrept board. I did get to work with a different crew chief yesterday also. Very chill dude. Unlike my normal partner who is nice, but a bible beating "real men love Jesus" Type. I'm not. I being a foul mouthed artist punk ass heathen, I always feel like I am forever being judged as Satan's spawn. I slipped up the shift before and said "fuck" twice and "Goddamn" once. I am now bound for the fiery depths of hell ( what is this handbasket...and where are we going?) My pld partner told me he's saving me a place in that handbasket. So my temp CC, Like me an ex-punk with a tendency to be accident prone. Also had some very entertaining stories about being a redneck punk ass from Tennessee. So we spent the day discussing BMX, skateboarding and comparing scars.

The cat

So my roommate's cat is dying. The 20 year old cat. The 20 year old cat the liked to pee on my clean clothes and bathmat. I don't like the cat, however I will not speak badly of the dying. I Am trying my best to support my roommate through this. It's not everyday that one must make the decision to put a beloved pet down. And not being able to help the sick cat makes me feel a little helpless. Being that I can save the life of a crack-head human, but I can't do anything to treat the cat. I know cats are a bit different that humans (duh), but I still feel terrible. I watch her sit with her cat, talking to her, saying her goodbyes. If I was an emotional person I would cry. But the death and sickness I see everyday has harden me.

Recreational crack smoking

I spent the last 48 hours in uniform. The last few days has been steaming hot and being in a polyester uniform is the last thing I want to be in. Even the EMS "PJs" is a polyester jumpsuit. If you were the light me on fire I would burst into flames. However it has been a slow few hours. Only running about 5 calls in 48 hours. Not to bad. One being a 56 year old man who began having chest pain at 0300 because he had been smoking crack cocaine for the last six hour prior to calling us. He was otherwise a very nice man. Not a violent crack smoker, just a recreational user. I just told him on the ride to "Quit smoking that shit, it fucks with your heart and kidneys" He told me he'd stop, but they never do. It;s just wasted breath.

So my days off consisted of the usual pro and con fight of going to the gym and errand running. I did spend about three hours in the darkroom developing old negatives from FB. Then spent the rest of the night in the bar fighting the urge to drink myself into oblivion. I ran into an old friend of mine who about a year ago was a very smart wonderful biology major who has now turned into the guy that lives on your sofa.

Swerving around the interstate

Home sweet home. After spending two days in ATL, which was just an excuse to leave SC and all the problems that I'm dealing with back home. Plus I got to see my wonderful cousins, who basically I can Call anytime and say I'm coming to ATL and they don't think twice. Spent the weekend drinking and then fighting a killer hangover. However a good time had by all. That is until the drive home. FromATL to Augusta it was sheeting rain. I couldn't see two feet in front of me anf then doing a 360 in the middle I-20 was enough for me. So as soon as I regained traction I slid off the side of the road and sat for almost an hour waiting for the rain to let up. Never had I been so Scared...Okay The riot during Woodstock 99 still ranks number one, however doing a high speed 360 in the middle of the interstate ranks up there.

Calm death, Calm Save

I just got off a 36 hour shift. First call of the long shift was a full arrest in the parking lot of a gas station. Here were are three medics, fire department, and several sheriff deputies in a parking lot in rural Carolina trying our best to save a man that has long been passed. However not showing any signs, like levity and rigor. So we work him. CPR, intubation, Epinephrine, Atropine, Amiodarone and a myriad of other drugs in our arsenal. We work him for 45 mins hoping for something, but like the many before him he is just practice for the "real" arrest. The one we can save. The one that has a chance. I have had three in my career. One a 20 year old overdose, a witnessed EMS arrest. Another a 37 year old that was also a witnessed arrest that we were able to shock back to a pulse. Early in my career I asked why we work the unsaveable. The answer I got was they are Practice to the real one, the one that is able to be saved. Not everyone lives, not everyone dies. Sometime we can save them and that makes all the stress, this unthankable job worth having. No humor during this shift. Just the sick and stupid calling for help. So we answer with a smile and a kind word, making sure that the stupid don;t realize that we are interally wondering "why the fuck are we here?" and the sick know that I'm there because I want to be there, to help. I love my job even if its a 13 year old with a small laceration to the top of his foot from dropping a glass on it. It's not always adrenaline. Sometimes its just the fact that we are there to calm the frantic mother by explaining that the raspberries the child is blowing is not respiratory distress, but playful child, that makes my night.