Eve's got nothing on me.

Eve's got nothing on me.
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

happy holidays...is it over?

Well here ends another Christmas. This year for us it just snuck up on us. We got our tree up late, the presents didn;t get wrapped until last night at like 4am, and I had to thrown together a Christmas dinner for my dad and I (Ham, greenbean Casserole, and a baked tater) because my mama has to work tonight (she an ER nurse for those who are just visiting my blog for the first time. She works in a smaller ER that is part of the Trauma Center here. I occasionally get to see her when I'm owrking, she also likes to say "alright hunny, you tell that partner of your to drive carefully and we'll see yall when yall get here" over the radio when I encode the hospital. I'm always saying. Mama!, the people all over the county can hear you. But she don't care. My Supervisor got a kick out of it the first time he heard my mama say it)

Anyways, I racked up quite well this morning, getting everything I asked for. CSI the sixth season, this beautiful necklace from my daddy, 70 bucks in iTunes card (awsome.) and a Holga (for those who are unfamilar, it is a cheap toy camera from Japan or China I can't remember. It used medium format film, 120, and because of its plasic body and lens does weird stuff with the colors and adds wicked distortions to the shot. It is awsome) I can't wait till I can go out and shoot with it. and I haven;t shot film is so long, Its gonna be a nice change. This was also the first christmas I didn't have to work. Granted, its because of my foot and I'm working up at HQ, and HQ is closed today...and tommorrow. So no work for me. The foot is healing quite nicely. One of the internal pins is trying to come through though and it is quite pain and uncofortable. I think there is a small nerve ovever top of it because everytime I flex my foot it sends a buring pain across my foot and I can feel it in the tips of my toes. So I just keep still and try to stay off of it. But other than that, It is quite well. I'm walking on it, as long as I'm wearing the Aircast. Hopefully, by the end of January I will be moving back out on my own. and I will get to go back to the streets. Dealing with my crackheads and tweekers.

O Christmas Tree

O Christmas Tree
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Lights and bows

Lights and bows
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Angel

Angel
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Seatbelt...

http://www.adjab.com/2006/12/13/incredibly-graphic-seatbelt-ad-video/

This is a PSA from Ireland. I am going to warn you it is graphic...but truthful. This was shown to me by a fellow medic. We see this almost every shift. A death or a brain injury that could have been prevented with just a simple click of a seatbelt.

Be safe.

Merry Christmas

http://www.southflorida.com/events/sfl-scaredsanta,0,2245506.photogallery?
coll=sfe-events-headlines&index=1

Copy and paste this link. It is worth it I promise

I don't hate it hate it, Im just not used to it, I swear really...I'm fine

Okay I am ready to have my own place again. This living with the 'rents, well, living with people in general blows. I'm not used to having to share my space with much of anyone. Even when I had a roommate she was never home so it was like I lived by myself. I'm not used to the sharing of the bathroom or not being able to watch hours of the forensic shows on CourtTV at three in the morning 'cause I have terrible insomnia because my sister can't sleep in her own bed for some reason so she sleeps on the sofa. But I can't voice any of this because it would make me seem ungrateful. Which, by the way, I am not. I am happy to have a place to stay. But it's something that I can't explain and they don;t understand. I was living on my own for six almost seven years, thats a long time. Long enough to get into alot of strange habits, like for instance needing the TV to be on when I sleep, going to the fridge over and over, opening it, seeing nothing, but still go back over and over, reading a book and watching TV at the same time (oh the horror)...or even just watching forensic shows or mythbusters until my eyes bleed. This is what I'm used to doing. If I wanted to stay in my pajamas all weekend I would and I didn;t have to explain it. If I went out somewhere I just left. I didn't have to sit through a machine gun fire of questions...where are you going, why are you leaving, what are you going to do, who are you going with, are there going to be boys there, when are you going to be back, why are you wearing that, you know black shoes and brown belt don;t match, you aren't really wearing that are you? Oh good lord I'm just going to the movies, really, I don't thing D cares if my purse matches my belt.

I don't really hate it though. It could be a hell of alot worse. I could be living at the shelter. Or trying to figure out how I could earn enough money to make rent with this stupid broken foot, without having to sell drugs or my body to do it. And there is alway the entertainment of watching my sister anf father chase after a Palmetto bug. My father gagging up his stomach and my sister freaking the fuck out. Over a bug...it's kinda funny. In my family is complaetly nuts sort of way.

Sweet freedom

Sweet freedom. On many diffrent levels. One I have been able to drive for about a week now. So when I get the chance I go, even if its just driving around. I'm just happy to be out of the house. I love my family anf I thank them everyday for letting me come back. But moving home was not something I wanted to do. I have to keep reminding myself its just two months, it's just two months. I am not the easiest person to live with so as difficult it is for me to be here its even more so for my family. My mother's studio converted to my new room, with just enough room for my bed and a couple bags of clothes. the garage filled and a whole storage unit on the island full of my shit. And lord have mercy do I have alot a fuckig shit. But I'm happy to have a bed. At least I'm off the sofa.

I also was able to go see a movie tonight, (I saw Borat, it was discusting, but hilarious. There is one scene though I wish I had never seen, it is burned into my brain and just...ewwww. The did make those USC boys look like compleate assholes.) I did almost face plant trying to manuver the stairs, in the dark mind you, on those god forsaken crutches. My friend laughed so hard he dropped his coke. Serves the bastard right. You are not supposed to laugh at the cripple.

I does feel good to get out of that apartment though. My now ex roommate and I were having issues and I was ready to get out of that place. But I wasn't sure how to get out without a fight. Seems breaking your foot in five places was the answer to my prayers (thank you god, but next time, can we think of something less painful? Is that asking too much? And moving home...I really don;t want to do thatever again, I'm sure my mother and father would say the same thing. and can I have a cool studio on King Street, with big windows and hardwood floors and 12ft ceilings? Thats probally too much to ask huh, how bout just a cheap apartment...with hardword floors)

best of 2006

My best of 2006 30 sec music reviews

Snow Patrol
Eyes Open

I listened to this damn CD until the thing quit playing. Then I went out and bought the damn thing on iTunes and burned a copy. It was that good. Yes, they did play that "Chasing Cars" song way too much, but tracks seven and eight make it all better

Thom York
Eraser

I thank god everyday for radiohead. One of the best bands ever. This is the lead singers solo effort. And it is fantastic in all its electronic noise glory.

Wolfmother
Self Titled

Think Led Zep. Hard classic sounding rock. Good for when led Zep can't be located in the 13 Gigs of music you have on your iBook

The Killers
Sam's Town

The Killers sophmore effort. It is compleatly diffrent from the glam emo rock that we have come to know and love. More rock, less glam. But Brandon Flowers's voice still is very reconizable and lovely as ever. CHeck out tracks 6,7,8.

The Decemberists
The Crane Wife

play, enjoy...then repeat...this is absoulutly my favorite Album of 2006.


Gomez
How We Operate

Again...Play...enjoy repeat...Girlshapedlovedrug and the title track, How We Operate, are the best tracks

Bloc Party
Slient Alarm

I compare them to old Blur. Banquet and Likeeating Glass...actually the first 5 tracks kick ass. but really I love the whole thing.

Red Hot Chili Peppers
Stadium Arcadium
Oh course I had to include the old favorite of the CHilli Peppers. I prefer Disc Two. But the whole things is RHCP goodness all over

Pearl Jam
ST

I loveed and always will love Pearl Jam. They are like the Foo Fighters in that they never have ever had a bad album.

Joshua Radin
We Were Here

Very good acoustic folky music to just chill out too.

SO there you have it my top ten albums of 2006. Or bands I just discovered in 2006, I think a couple are older, but I just found them this year. Anyways these are my Favs.

Harder than I thought

SO I have found life is difficult to sat the least when you are limited by having only one working foot and having to use crutches just to get around. Case in point...I have finally been given the okay to drive, which i sgreat. I was getting tired of being forced to stay in bed or on a sofa watching TV becauseI can't leave the house for lack of ride. was begining to really get to me. I was snapping at my family and generally not being very nice. I understand that, but was hard being stuck. But now I have Tallula back and took her out for a spin. Oh how I have missed her. Anyways back to the point. So I was heading to the local Harris Teeter to get my sushi from the regular sushi guy who I have not seen in almost a month. I could almost taste the spicy tuna. And my man make my roll fresh, just for me. while I get my Orangina and three granny smith apples. That has been lunch for months now. But intead of going in I sat in the parking lot wondering who the hell am I going to get the apples, sushi and orangina to the regester. I trully was perplexed. I really could not come up with a good way. If I was to put in in my bag I carry around for things just like this except priavtly in my own home, it looks as iff I am stealing. I could kick one of those baskets around, but that just seems stupid. I tried carring one, but it throws the balence off. So what did I do? I said fuck it all ans went to Mcdonalds got on of those apple and walnut fruit things and went home. Sushi-free. I will have to bring my mom with me next time so she can carry it. Unless you, my readers have anyideas? I am open for suggestion. I hate having to rely on others.

Its simple things like that, or getting up into my truck, or getting a cup of coffee from point A to point B. I hate asking for help. Im terrible at it. I always forget to say please and thank you. Its not because I'm ungrateful, its because I have never had to. Even when I hurt my back, i was able to move and be independant. But the stupid foot has left me 3/4 useless if you count the leg plus both arms because of the crutches.

I know I shouldn't bitch like this. I have had patients much worse than me. SOme are been left paralized, some have been left deformed, some have been left with nothing at all. I didn;t lose my limb, or ability to think or breath on my own. I spoke to the cyclist while I was in the hospital, who laughed at me, as he should have, and just in talking to him. I no longer felt sorry for my self. He had injuries that could have killed him. and damnit if he is not running triathlons now. So from this day on no more bitching. Only positive. I am healing, I will be back. back with the crackheads and drunks. back with the sick and the stupid. until then, I am done bitching.

12 days of EMS Christmas

This was a foward I got from a fellow medic. I thought I would post it. It also explaines the little >>>>>> thingies.


The Twelve Days of Christmas EMS Style...
>>>
>>>On the First day of Christmas, my Dispatcher gave to me...
>>>Grandma who fell and hurt her knee...
>>>
>>>On the Second Day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me...
>>>2 MG of Narcan for the out of work person who wants to end it all by
>>>taking
>>>her Husband's pain pills and won't tell me what she took and is feeling
>>>suicidal....
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee.
>>>
>>>On the Third day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me....
>>>Three stacked shocks for the 88 year old man who instead of paying the
>>>neighbor kid 5 bucks to shovel his driveway, decided to do it himself
>>>and
>>>have the
>>>big one in the driveway...
>>>2 Mg of Narcan for the psycho chick trying to off herself...
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee..
>>>
>>>On the Fourth day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me....
>>>4 AM in the morning I have to go to the nursing home because someone has
>>>had
>>>the flu for like 16 years and all of a sudden needs to go to the
>>>hospital....NOW,...
>>>Three Stacked shocks for the full arrested popsicle,
>>>2 MG of Narcan for Morphine eating Momma...
>>>and Grandma who fell and hurt her knee....
>>>
>>>On the Fifth day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me...
>>>Five minutes to eat.....
>>>4 AM shuttle call,
>>>Three stacked shocks,
>>>2 MG of Narcan,
>>>and Grandma who fell and hurt her knee....
>>>
>>>On the Sixth Day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me....
>>>Six run reports behind because the computer guy can't fix the system...
>>>Five Minutes to eat!!!!!!!!!!
>>>4 AM Shuttle,
>>>3 zaps to the chest,
>>>gonna have a stomach pumped,
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee...
>>>
>>>On the Seventh day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me...Seven car
>>>pile
>>>up while everyone was trying to beat the light so they can get into Wal
>>>Mart
>>>the day after Thanksgiving thinking there is only 4 dancing Elmo
>>>Dolls...
>>>six reports behind...
>>>Five minutes to eat.......
>>>4AM is way to early,
>>>3 stacked shocks,
>>>2 of Narcan Pushed,
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee....
>>>
>>>On the Eighth day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me....Eight
>>>flights
>>>of
>>>steps to walk up to get the 400 pound person who is having shortness of
>>>breath since LAST Christmas and can't walk...oh, and of course, the
>>>elevator
>>>doesn't
>>>work...
>>>7 cars a crunching,
>>>six reports a writing,
>>>Five minutes to eat.
>>>4 AM shuttle,
>>>CPR in progress,
>>>2 MG of Narcan,
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee...
>>>
>>>On the ninth day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me Nine blankets
>>>needed
>>>to cover up grandpa because he is freezing and we aren't even out of the
>>>house yet but thinks he will get pneumonia and die for all of the 10
>>>seconds we
>>>are outside...
>>>Eight flights of stairs,
>>>should have stayed home and bought it off of Ebay,
>>>six reports I'm writing...
>>>Five minutes to eat.....
>>>What the Hell time is it,
>>>should have paid the kid,
>>>2MG of Narcan,
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee.
>>>
>>>On the Tenth Day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me...
>>>Ten Minutes till I can get a bed in the ER because the nurses are busy
>>>figuring out who is going to lunch next....
>>>Nine blankets needed,
>>>Hope fire department is coming,
>>>7 cars a crunching,
>>>six reports I need to write,
>>>Five minutes to eat...
>>>Can't you wait till morning,
>>>stick a fork in him, he's done,
>>>Man I hope she shuts up...
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee.
>>>
>>>On the Eleventh day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me....
>>>Eleven times I tried to get the heat to work in the back of the truck
>>>and
>>>maintainence won't take the truck in...
>>>ten minutes waiting,
>>>Nine blankets needed,
>>>eight flights of steps to climb,
>>>Hope you have Progressive,
>>>Give me a new ink pen...
>>>Five minutes to eat....
>>>4 AM is early,
>>>3 Leads all show he's dead,
>>>2 MG won't touch her..
>>>and grandma who fell and hurt her knee...
>>>
>>>On the Twelth day of Christmas, my dispatcher gave to me...
>>>a 12 Gague IV needle that I put into the drunk 19 year old who tried to
>>>swing at me...
>>>it's really freezing,
>>>Hope you choke on your sandwich,
>>>9 blankets for grandpa,
>>>How did you get up here in the first place,
>>>man your husband is gonna be pissed,
>>>six reports STILL down...
>>>five minutes to eat...
>>>Better than taking them back,
>>>Hope I recorded the code,
>>>Man, just pass out already...
>>>and grandma who fell and hit her knee...

gobble, gobble...

I have been home recovering. Being waited on hand and foot. And I'm about sick of it. I just want to sleep in my own bed. Don't get me wrong, I adore my family, but after not living at home for almost six years I miss the independance, I miss my bed, I miss my home. I will say it again, I ADORE my family, but Im tired of sleeping on the sofa, like a vagrant. I'm squating at my parent's house. And my father follows me around, arms ousreatched, like waiting for a child just learning to walk. I'm getting pretty steady on the crutches, I'm learning that as long as the caps on pretty tightly I can throw the bottle of Aquafina to the sofa were I'm sitting. and I can get up to feed myself. I'm not fully self suficiant but I'm getting closer. and as soon as I can bear weight I will be better.

The othro-pod (My every so sweet and wonderful Dr D.) saya I can go back to work on light duty as soon as the pins come out in two weeks. I'm looking forward to that, but I'm also NOT. Because they basicly take a pair of pliers and yank those suckers out from deep within the bone...gives me the huzz just thinking about it. But I will be hppy to be back in uniform, even if it is just at HQ doing data entry.

Also Happy Turkey day to my fellow Americans. hope you had family to celebrate with, as I did. lots of food, lots of laughs. My family is well either turned ALLTHE WAY ON...or OFF and we are a family of drinkers. But I was okay I took my painkillers and flaoted away, enjoying the holiday in a drug endused haze. which in my eyes is better than an ETOH haze...so hope you got food and family .

My stay at MUSC

I normally try not give to many details away about my city, using alisis's like "the ritzy island", "The City", "Miracle Hospital", but in this post I will name a name. I was a patient at The Medical University Hospital of SC last week with my foot injury. Now the reason I am actually stating the name of the hospital, giving away this small detail, is because the care I received at the hospital was excellent. It all started in the ER, now these are people I know on a first name basis, being that I am a medic. They treated me like family. They worked quicly to get my pain under control. The consult with ortho was also quickly ordered so that getting me admitted was expidited. So my excellent care started in 1W and then continued when I was addmitted upstairs.

The nursing staff on 7E were caring and knowledgable, the CAs were kind, and the MDs took time to explain everything in terms I could understand. Even though I am I am in the medical feild and understand most of the "big medical words" they did not speak in them. But they did not talk down to me either. One even took the time, after he noticed that I was not doing to well dealing with the injury, (not just pain-wise, but also mentally, I was worried about if I would be able to go back to work with an injury like this) to just sit and talk to me, which for a surgeon to do is well...he treated me like a person not just another patient. Actually, I really can't say anything bad about any of the staff that worked with me. The night nurses, when they were not busy would come in my room and talk. (I didn;t sleep very well at night, being a night shift worker) nad there was one day shift CA, B., who after being cooped up in that stupid hosptial room for like four days, brought me a special kind of wheelchair (The kind from PT that the legs popped up so that me foot would stay elevated.) and two guys from PT to help me into it. So I could go downstairs and go outside for some fresh air.

So I just wanted to say thank you to the staff of 1W and 7E. I don't know if any of them read my blog at all, But if you do, you guys know who you are who took care of me. You all did a good job. I know I was a pain in the ass sometimes, but aren't all medical workers? But even if I totally got on your nerves you didn't show it. You made me feel well cared for. So again Thank You.

The After.

The After.
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

Ok. As promised here is the story of the birthday broken foot.

So it all started out like a normal birthday, I went out with a group of friends to a japanese hibachi place. We got all dressed up, I put on mt new Steve Maddens (with the three inch heel, and I have trouble in heels, keep this in mind, they play a major part in the story) Had a great dinner of steak and shirmp. Had a few glasses of wine and two of those little cups of sake. After we ate we headed over to the wine bar that was down the street. The bartender was this great guy who kept my wine glass from becoming empty. It was a great spanish red wine, sweet, but not too sweet. We made conversation with the guys that were sitting down the bar. Got a few birthday shots out of it. Now this is when the night started to become a little fuzzy. I start drinking water and we leave the bar. My friend was going to take me to her house where we were going to meet her man friend and de-head some shrimp ( yes, really) because I was looking all pretty and such, he was also going to bring a friend of his to meet me. So as we walk to the car, parked in the garage. We start up the stairs, we make it to the third story, well I make it to the third story before I stumble, drunkenly in my new Steve Madden's. I land on my foot, well, I guess I land on my foot as that's were my bones were broken (like I said details are fuzzy) My friend now yells at me to get my ass up. I try to stand, but that didn't go very well. So with her help, we somehow made it to her car (thanks to the red wine and shots I wasn't feeling much pain) and she drives me to the hospital. After four hours in the ER I was told I was going to need surgery to fix the bones. So I was admitted to the hospital, where I stayed for a week. They fixed my foot. I have never known pain before the day after my surgery. But I am home now. living on painkillers. I will be off the streets for at least three months. They have found me a position at HQ on light duty in which I am enternally grateful.

So the moral of the story is, never wear three inch heels, ever.

The Before

The Before
Originally uploaded by artist in the ambulance 190.

all bust up.

I am a dumbass. I have broken my foot after a night of celebrating my 27th birthday. I will be back soon with full story, but because of large doses of morphine and surgery I'm having trouble copleating full sentances. so It will be a few days before I will be back to blogging. Then do I have a story for you people. Well worth the wait.

Idiot...idiot...idiot

I lay here in the hospital, nervous because at 1645 tomorrow I have to have surgery. Surgery because in a nutshell, I am a dumbass. It was my birthday on Thursday. I turned old enough to know better on thursday. Seriously, thats an age...old enough to fucking know better. Its right in the middle of ages "legos are the coolest thing ever" and "gravity has now taken over my body and my breasts have started the revolution"

well I will give the story later, in involes a pair of patent leather heels, a very good spanish wine, and a flight of stairs but I'm tired now. So I will have to get back to you...

DUIs and why they suck.

There are very few people in this world I have absolutly no sympathy for. I mean none. Even crackheads and and the occasional drug dealer or prisoner from the jail who swallowed a dime bag of crack I can muster up some sort of compassion for. But Drunk Drivers, those fuckers, I have absolutly no sympathy for. I can say with complete confidence that I, myself have never driven home from a bar blitzed. I was shocked into not by the nursing staff at the Trauma Center when I was 18 when I was doing my photo essay. Since then I have never gotten behind the wheel of a vehicle after a night of bar hopping. (For two reason mainly, one, was I was made to listen to the doctor's tell a family member of a girl that was killed in a drunk driving accident that their daughter was dead, and two I was threated that if I ever came in as a DUI all of my clothes would be cut off regardless of my injuries and at 18 those are some heavy words to hear) I have three cab company's numbers in my cell, my dad will come if I can't find anyone else and I have even been known to call the on shift supervisor of my EMS system for a ride when the cab company wouldn't pick up the phone. I refuse to drive if I've had more than 3 beverages ( thats my cut off, Im not drunk, but I should not be driving after 3 good stiff drinks) So if I can call a cab so can the rest of humanity. There is absolutly no good reason you can give me that will change my mind. Oh, so you can't call a friend because they are just as intoxicated as you are or you cell phone is missing or the battery is dead, bullshit, every single bar will call a cab for you. Just ask the bartender. They may be a bit put out, but I'd rather have a put-out bartender than killing a family of four on your way home. And I don't know about some people, but my truck is my baby. I cried when the passenger side mirror was knocked off because some asshat left a bunch of cut trees out in the middle of the damn road. So I don't really want to flip over several times in the middle of the street because I was an idiot. And I don't want your dumbass hitting me, injuring me, killing me, on my way home from a long night of saving lives. So DUI's I have no sympathy for. Mostly because of the whole idiot thing and also because you are usually an asshole to me. I hate upon hate getting spit on or swung at. I hate getting cussed at. And every drunk driver I have ever come across in my short career has cussed at and/or spit at me. I have even had one that was so damn drunk he was totally oblivous that he was just responsible for the death of the two passengers in his own car. He even called me a bitch. So no, I have no sympathy for you if you drink and drive. I won't even give you the benefit of faking compassion. I will treat you, but only because the laws and policies of my system tell me I have too and I don't want to lose my certification as a paramedic. But, I will tie you down to a long spine board, I will put the biggest honking needle in your arms, I may even accidenty hit a few bumps on the way to the hospital. But respect, sympathy, compassion, you will not get. Okay I am now going to get down off my soapbox and go to bed. It was a long night. I had three drunk drivers back to back to back which is the cause of my rant. Hope everyone had a safe Halloween, until next year where I will be scraping up "slutty fairies, angels, and nurses" up off the concrete again.

Hail to the Chief.

So the highlight of my day was riding shotgun in an ambulance in the Presidential Motorcade with the Sex Pistol's "Anarchy in the UK" blaring on the radio. Today marks the fourth visit of the Leader of the Free World to our sleepy little southern city. It was for some Republican fundraiser. One could not really understand the chaos the ensues when this one man comes into town until it is actually witnessed. Never have I seen so many men in so many different uniforms in so many shiny black vehicles. We were staged on the Ritzy Island where he spoke to a bunch of rich- ass republicans. He landed on the Beach in that big helicopter, was skirted off into a town car and was then followed down the winding beach roads. It truly was a sight to behold. People lined the route, with motorcycle cops for every jurisdiction in the city stopped at every vehicle and person. There was even one dude, who I would say, was probably the only Democrat in the whole group, standing holding a sign written on what looked to be notebook paper that read "DEMOCRAT AND PROUD" I bet they payed extra attention to him, as there was two motorcycle cops on him. So we sat for 5 hours waiting for the helicopter to land, then snaked our way though through the island to the big hotel on Ritzy Island where we sat for another hour and a half while he spoke, then snaked our way back to the beach where he got back on the helicopter and left. I never saw The Man, we were too busy being presidential. But we did get to talk to some of the Secret Service guys outside of the hotel while the man was speaking. There was also a wedding going on at the same hotel at the same time as the visit. How the hell that happened is beyond me. That must have been a security nightmare. But it is not my job to worry about such things. We, (my partner and I) are now on some list somewhere stating that we are cleared by the government, that we are not terroists. So thats a good thing. When it was all said and done, I basicly got 9 hours of OT to just sit and wait in my Startched uniform and polished boots. I looked very presidential. And all I wanted was a photograph of the helicopter, but alas I did not get one. When he landing we had to be ready to go. And when it was all over it was night time and The exposure was too long for me to do anything hand held So all I got was a bunch of light streaks and blurs. damn. But, really, how many people can say they were part of the President's motorcade? I may not agree with everything the man does or says, but it still was a very cool experience to be part of something like this. It doesn't happen all the time.

I think I died

I had forgotten what 36 hours awake running non stop calls felt like. 21 calls in all, ranging from two woke up deads, one full arrest, one GSW, two fall down stairs, one stillborn 20 week fetus and a partidge in a pear tree. I have had my fill of emergency. Stick a fork in me I am fucking done. I went through six walkie batteries. I became a drug-administering, code-running, patienting-restraining angel of death. Currently I myself am only CAOx1, I can tell you my name, and thats about it, forget time and place I lost the ability to form full thoughts at around hour 20 and currently am running on fumes od adrinaline left over from dead baby call. I am not doing too well with that, but I am so tired that it doesn;t matter right at the moment. It will hit me after sleep.

I do have to laugh though, our last call of the night was right at shift change and my relief wasn't at the station yet. So we get called to unresponsive. I hate unresponsives this early in the AM because they are usually woke-up deads or diabetics. The Diabetics I can handle they are no-brainers, but WUDs they just suck. They are emotionally draining. Too much to process that damn early in the AM. Anyways this Unresponsive was of the diabetic variety. thank god. Gave the man some D50 and he perked right up. But This guy gave me the best response I ever got from a diabetic post D50. He was this 80 year old guy that lived in a pretty nasty part of the island. His wife, daughter, grand daughter and great grand son (who was five and thought the fire truck and ambulance was the "Coolest thing EVER!" (we let him hit the siren then he burst into a fit of giggles. So okay, the patient was the really cool old man once we woke him p. WHile he was still kinda coming around he looked up at me and said "You coming to take me to jail?" I responded with "No, I am a paramedic" He just nodded and asked for his "women" Which I took to mean his wife, daughters, ect. They came in with some grits and bacon and the guy sat up and started eating. After a few bites, he bacame quite alert and looked up at me and my partner and said "Well, I saw all you white people in my house, I thought you were coming to arrest me"
"No, no sir, why have you done anything we need to arrest you for?"
"Oh no Mam'am, Ya'll want some grits?"

the rough streets ain't that bad

I am beginning to kinda like the area I'm working in. It's growing on me, like a fungus. Yeah, it's eyeball deep in the ghetto. Get called to more assaults and crack-induced chest pain than say, LOLNAD calls you get in other parts of the city, but all in all not a bad place to work. The cops are cool as hell and have our backs when the going get rough, the fire guys are always willing to help so I can't complain. Even the people in the area, for the most part aren;t bad people, just a bit down on thier luck, or dirt poor. This is also an area where most of our systems frequent flyers live. The asthma kid down the street from our station, the ex-crackhead (who is off the stuff because of a team of our medics) with a bad case of CHF who lives with her sister in some run-down apartments a few blocks away, the dialysis guy that lives with his brother with HTN, CHF and IDDM (the BIG three here) that we sometime stop by to make sure his meds are all in line, and nurmerous others that we see on an almost daily basis. Enough for them to know our names and what shift we work. Ok, so occaionlly we hear gunfire in the area around the station, but I can tell you for a fact, that no matter what the medics, we don't get messed with. Its like the people know, just know, what we do. We are the life savers, we aren't there to arrest them, or beat them up, or cause trouble. We are there to help "Mama" when she ain't breathing right. I am learning. After working for most of my time as a medic in the more afluent parts of town I getting the rules down.
1. stay close to the cops and never close yourself in a room with a crack user or psych. They can turn on you in a second.
2. Its Sugar, not diabetes, its high blood not hypertension, its a Water Pill, not lasix. We aren't dumbing it down, we are just calling it what they call it.
3. first on the the truck drives, and drop the boxes they can be replaced, you, however can't.
4. Yes, you can actully put a Grill on a four year old ( i didn;t believe that either, till I saw it with my own eyes)
I like the people of the area. They are mostly kind. I have heard more "thank you's" come from these people that I ever had working in the other areas. Some of them are the most grateful, gracious people I have ever had to treat. Yes, there are a few bad ones in there, the ones that spit or swing. And yes, the psychs and street drunks are more prevalant here. But it ain't a bad gig.

Oh yeah we had our first jumper off the New Bridge. That dude had traffic backed up for hours. He fell 200+ feet into the river below. And damnit if the guy didn't live, with out so much as a scratch on him. When I asked the people what ended up being wrong, they simply said 'He was wet."

My 300 lb Migraine

Pain, I understand pain. I, myself, suffer from chronic migraines. I have suffered with them for years. They last for days and the Maxalt works but I have to take the max dose for the trhee, four days. I am supposed to take verapamil and amnitriptilyne (I know I just bitchered the spelling, but its the tricyclic, more bad spelling, anti-depression med)daily for them. I have even made many trips, myself, to the ER for migraines that seem to complaetly untouched by the meds I have at home to treat them. I also have had back surgery for two ruptured discs in my lumbar spine. So pain is something I understand. I always feel very bad for my chronic pain patients, whether its migraine pain, back pain, or leg pain. I have unbelievable symathy for these poor people. Some of these people truely suffer every single day of thier lives. But as much understanding I have for them, I find them the most frustrating. Some of them refuse to help themselves. Example: I was called to a migraine on a twenty-four year old female who was quite large (I'm talking 300+ lbs/136+ kgs) She has, like me, had long history of them. She was sprawled out supine on the living room floor right in the doorway of the apartment, in the dark. And she was SCREAMING...screaming obceneties, screaming nonsense words, just screaming. Her sister , who was holding her screaming daughter, was also yelling at me calling me a "racist white bitch" because I "Wasn't doing a damn thing" to help her sister and it was because "[the patient] was black, if she were white I would have brough th streatcher and would treat [the patient]". Now what I was doing was trying to calmly explain to [the patient] to quit holloring, it was just making her head hurt more, and that I needed for her to sit up so I could open the door to just get to her. But instead of helping me help her, just by sitting up, she just laid there fucking screaming. I literally could not open the front door more than a few inches. I tried to through the yelling to explain to her that I too have these type of headaches (and believe it or not, these are more than just a headache, migraines are a monster of a diffrent species) and that I would be happy to help her, but I needed her to just sit up, thats it, just sit up. Not stand, not walk, not jump up and down on one leg. I just wanted access to her so I could assess her. I just kept going "Ms D, Ms D, honey, you have got to sit up, I know your in pain, I know your head feels like someone is driving nails into it, but you have got to help me, you have got to sit up" Between Ms D and Ms D's sister I was developing a migraine. The only statement I hate more than "What's the worst thing you have every seen" is "you are treating me because I am [insert nationality here]" I don't give a damn if you a fucking day-glo green, I will treat you with respect regardless. Finally, she flung herself across the landing, but still lying on the nasty ass floor. I was fine with that, at least I could get the door open far enough for me to slip in. I got down on the floor to her level and queitly explained to her that I know what this pain feels like, but I needed her to get herslef, at least, up off the floor becasue there was no way that my little self could pick her up, she opened her eyes and sat up. I looked at my partner, who correctly read my look as "Call the Fire Dept for man power and Go get the gurney" My partner got the gurney and put in at the base of the four steps that were right outside the front door. Migraines are a head thing, so Her legs I know for a fact still worked. I explained to her that my bed is right outside the door, but because of her size, I needed her to ambulate about six feet to the waiting streatcher. By this time, I had quieted her down. She ablidged my request and I got her to her feet. As I am walking with her, she then all of a sudden collapses and because of her size I could not catch her. I then get an earful of more racist slurs from the sister. Damnit, I can't win for nothing. A crowd has now formed outside to the apartment door and I look like the bitch medic making the poor woman walk literally six feet down the four steps. Right after that the FD showed up and we picked her up and got her into the unit. Where her whole demeanor changes, she now refuses to answer any of my questions, like how long this has been going on and have you taken anything medication wise for it and what her birthdays is. SHe is giving me statements like "Just take me to the fucking hospital" and "You don;t need to know my birthday and SS number" I feel mt patience slippinf. I proceeded to sternly speak. "Ms D, I do know what this feels like, I get these migraines, but you are acting like a child. I can help you but you have got to help me help you, now what other medical history do you have?

Fuck. Thata was the most draining call I had had in a long while. I absoultly hate calls like this. I have to gather all of my restraint and compassion from deep within the core of my being just to keep my cool. So that I dont lose my shit. you have to help the medic sometimes. I did not make her walk because she was black, or because I am a mean and horrible medic. I made her ambualte because she could and I was not able to carry her. ABC also stands for Abulate before carry. I have already had my back fixed once, I might not be able to get if fixed again.

Stupid, Stupid, Stupid

I hate more than anything, people that are just a waste of protoplasm. That do nothing but try and fake their way outta trouble, wasting my time, my police officers' time by totally refusing to talk, walk or anything else thinking "Well they won't arrest me if I'm hurt" I am here to tell you fucking bullshit. They will still fucking arrest you, you gun-toting, drug-selling, crack-smoking jackass. Here are my rules, they are very simple

1. When I ask you your name, don't ignore me or pretend to be "Unconscious" I know you can talk. You were just in a foot persuit with the police officer. You can't run if you are "unconscious"

2. When I ask you if you have been using any sort of illict drugs, I'm not asking for my health, Im asking you for yours. Don't fucking lie to me. I know what crack smells like and I know that when you heart rate is fucking 200, you have been doing something. I may look like this innocent little chick medic, but I have been doing emergency medicine for a few years. I have seen alot.

3. Don't fake ANYTHING. That is including but not limited to seizures, head injury, SOB, CP, or death. I have ways of finding out that your faking it. And I will let the hospital of choice know that you are basicly being a douchbag.

4. SHow me the respect you would show your mother. Don't spit, hit, cuss at, or kick me.

I have fucking compassion. But when you try and play me a happy medic I will not be. And ask any one, you don't want a pissed off medic taking care of you. Yes, I will treat you. Yes, I will be patient. But don't think I won't use the largest IV needle I got and I have no hang-ups in restraining your ass.

Guns, Guns, and more Guns

What is with the city these days. My normaly quiet southern town is being riddled with bullets. We are literally treating several Gunshots a day here. As in more than one. In the past few weeks we have had at least nine deaths due to the growing violence in the city. And thats just the ones I have heard about, or have been witness to. We had a gunman open fire on a club on one of the islands I think 8 were shot total there, one maybe two deaths from that. A possible gang related shooting where five were treated for bullet holes, one shot fatally. A step father executed his family in a trailer in the north district. Five from that, including the four kids ranging in age from 6-16 years of age. And most recently a robbery gone bad at a resteraunt, also in the north district, were the manager was fatally shot in the head. Then there was the taser death in which a cracked-out man decided to go after police. Now I ve already written about the tasers, but A recent artical in the paper, just really chapped my ass. The man that died, I am very sorry for that, but he went after one of the officer's gun. That actually justifies using deadly force. But instead of using his gun, the officers decided to use the non lethal weapon of choice the taser. Because of the drug use, the man was out of control, and I feel the officers did exactly what they should have. Had they used a gun and shot the man a diffrent debate would be going on. But I won;t get started on the Tasers again. I've already made my point with that one. But the gun violence is new to this city. We have had our share of violence, however it has been getting increaseingly bad. I am getting tired of having to pronouce dead children. A six year old should not have to worry about getting shot in the head while playing.

Being a medic I really have no control over the law enforcement side of things and all I know about forensics is what I see on CSI. I am here only to patch-up the injuried and stabilze them during thier trip to the trauma center. I have no idea how to fix these things. I don't know if gun contol in the answer because they will just find new ways to obtaine weapons. Maybee Chris Rock has the answer. He proposed in an old stand-up routine to instead of making guns harder to get, just make the bullets $15,000 a piece, that way, maybe, these people will think about what they are wasting their 15 grand peice of lead on. Would you really think that a bullet that expensive would be used in a robbery where you might get 300 bucks. I don;t think so.

ghetto truck and to tase or not to tase

Well..Well Back on the streetsfor my first full weekend. And oh how I have missed my District 2 crackheads. I was brought back to work on one of our trucks that work in the "scary" part of the city. Mostly Assaults, Shootings, Stabbings, psychs, drunks and general mischeif. Which is fine by me. Trauma calls, my friends, are easy calls. Not much too them. Bandage them up and take them to the hospital. Maybe start a huge fucking IV or two and do some Airway work if they are bad enough, but for the most part they don't even get to lay on the stretcher. The get the "Bench Seat Treatment" Some of them you feel bad for, some of them, I hate to say get what they deserved. I can only think that if they can be rude to me, the chick medic, I can only imagine what they did to get their asses hit over the head with a bottle of Wild Irish Rose.

Now, what is the general idea about Tasers? We had an incident with a suspect getting Tased here and subsequently died. Not from the Taser, mind you. But from the huge rock of crack that he smoked (that made his heart explode) just prior to the Tasing. However this is not mentioned in the newspaper. This is giving the police that partol out streets, that keep the people safe, or at least try to, and that cover my ass when I go into violent scenes a bad rap. I, myself, belive whole heartedly in the Taser. Would you like to go back to the old way of either a nightstick, or even better a gunshot wound? I have seen these things in action, and Im here to tell you, it will stop a guy in his tracks. But it is a great non-leathal weapon, espicially for the violent people that it gets used on. I have never, ever seen one misused, and I have seen it used quite a bit. I have many friends who are police officers and I would rather see them use the Taser than, them get shot or stabbed by some out-of-control, high on god knows what, street thug bastard. But this is my own opinion. I would also rather get called to pull the little prongs out, rather than get called to a GSW to the chest. Chest wounds are just a whole hell of alot of work for someone who probally won't make it anyways. I get all sweaty, and that just can piss me off. So I ask you which would you rather have to deal with...a taserprong or a bullet. Because quite honestly, that is what it all boils down to.

Baby...oh Baby

After this week, after having my hand wrapped around a heart and now last night, having delivered a baby, finding the slope of a line seems pretty insignifigant. mx+b=I don't give a damn. As long as I can calculate the correct dose of dopamine, the inequality doesn't really matter. But anyways, thats another post.

A baby was delivered last night. Now when we got there baby was already out, the cord just needed to be cut. I think God looks out for me and my partner when we work, because, knock on wood, I have never had a newborn in distress. I whole-heartly believe in the statement "God never puts anything in front of us that we cannot handle" and a dying baby is something I don't know if I could handle, at least not on the streets. Maybe in the hospital where I am responsible for nothing and we have whole teams that come down to help with the catching of the babies. But this child was pink, active, not quite crying as strongly as I would hope, but still in no obvious distress, other than being a bit on the cold side. We dod our best in the field with what we have. And of course the heart monitor leads and SPO2 wouldn't stick to the little thing. But I just reverted back to actually physicaly laying my hands and stethescope on the babe. Good strong HR and respiratory effort. APGAR of, well honestly I couldn't remember how to score, but the kid looked good, and I remembered from Paramedic school, nobody gets afull ten at the five minute score, so I gave him a 8. sometaken off for not crying much, and blue finger tips. But he scored much better the second go 'round. He got a 10 then, he was pink, loud, perfect. Even though he was a month early accoding to mom, still 5lbs 9oz and pretty healty.

This is why I love my job. Where else could I touch a heart on night and bear witness to a birth all within 46 hours. This really is the coolest job on earth.

Saving Humanity from itself

Well, I am home now. I am back reeking havok in the moonlight with my fellow ditch doctors. Loving it again. I guess sometime you gotta let things go for a bit before you relize just how much you miss it. Yes, EMS is hard back breaking (Literally) work. But even though those steel-toed boots are ucomfortable as hell and sometimes the patients are a pain in the ass and sometime your partner sucks, all those bad things are not as bad as all the good things that make this job rewarding.

The night was uneventful. Nothing real serious or out of the ordinary. Just simple hypoglycimia, Afib, and SOB. All of the patients were patients because they had not been educated by thier primary care physican about the medications they were given or even about the disease that they had. The first guy took two doses of his insulin because he felt bad, telling up he got all dizzy and sweaty so he took a double dose of his insulin, then felt his heart "get fast up" so he took a dose or four of his Nitroglycerin spray. So when we got there his BGL was 45 and he had a BP of 80 systolic. We fixed him up with some sug'r and fluids and suprise, suprise the CHest pain and PVCscleared right up. This all could have been avoided if the prescribing doc would take the time to sit and explain in plain english when the meds should be taken. This is frustrating. In this fast-paced world can we not take the time to just explain to these people how all this medical shit owrks? But then we have patients like my last one of the night who was given a Prdnisone script for her COPD and she wont take it becasue it makes her "feel bad". Then gets Short of Breath calls us, and then asks "well, miss medic, if I took my pills whould it help?" YES, YES it will. Arg. this is my life. saving humanity from its own stupidity.

Blood on the floor

Well my last weekend at Miracle Hospital and I went out with a bang...and bang...and bang. Four GSWs in all. One Chest cracking. I have found the single most coolest things that one can witness in the ER is an emergent open thorocotomy. Its messy, bloody, raw medicine. Almost primitive, with all the breaking and slicing and and tugging. The surgeon tears open the left side of the chest to expose the heart. This little bundle of muscle, nerves, blood vessels. Its alive all on it own. Without being wound, plugged in, without batteries. It just beats. Keeping time. and I had my hands literally.inside.a.mans.chest. Now that, is fucking cool. I just wanted to stand there and watch it beat. Of course I could not I had other things to do besides just standing there. But if just standing was an option, I can be very good at that. I can get distracted by things sometimes, like a gaping hole in the side of a human. With everything exposed and opened up we all look the same.

So tired my hair hurts

To say I'm tired is a major understatement. Like calling Mt Everest a rock. I have been working every single day since last Monday and My next day off is Friday night. But the two weeks straight is my own damn fault so I can't bitch. I shot my self in my own foot, per say. My anger with the staff at Miricle Hospital made me lose my fucking head. When I quit, I was convinced that I would never work for them again. Then after cooling off for a day or three, I came to relize Miracle Hospital is a great refereance in the medical field. I worked at one of the busiest ER in the city with the sickest, most screwed up patients...and if I just walked out I would have been black-balled from the busiest hospitals and my otherwise glowing reference would be gone. So I decided to work a two week notice. But of course I told my EMS agency I was through so for this two week period I am full time at both. I havent spend a night in my own bed for a week and a half. I think my legs are going to fall off. But on a plus side I have lost 10 lbs because Im on the Miracle Hospital diet...the no stop to eat, run my ass off diet.

But EMS is happy to have me back, as I am happy to be back. Its like that bad-boy ex that is really, really bad for you, but you still love him anyways despite all the pain and grief he causes. So Im running back, back to my first love. To practice my street medicine or as I was told, practice "without a net"

Dear Miracle Hospital...

Dear Administrator at Miracle Hospital,

I fucking quit.

signed
BPC

As of last night, Im officially done being somebody's bitch. No two weeks notice, no party. I fucking done with that place. I am taking my toys and going the fuck home. Im am going to burn bridges and never look back. It sounds llike a great deal, on paper. get paid 13 bucks and hour to haul patients upstairs, and recheck vitals. You get prime seating during life saveing (or ending) trauma. You are responsible for getting the correct intramnet in the surgeons hands before the surgeon even knows he needs it.
Whe the don't tell you is...
even though you were trained as a CA years ago you can't actually get CA pay (thats the 10.00 even), you get PCT pay (9.15) until you take the CA test over agian, and they only offer that like once a month...then to get the big 13 bucks you have to take another test, pass that to get your EDT cred. Are you funcking serious? Ive had my Paremedic for two years, I can Intubate and put EJs in without a direct MD order, how many fucking nurses can say that. Then last night, well first thing I felt like shit, I got this sinus,cold, SARS, bird flu thing thats going around so thats was cool. Then I had a very needy gruop of nurses to take care of. Ones who I guess, were absent the day they taught "How not to obliderate a room" because every room was trashed and everybody seemed to think the clean-up fucking fairy was gonna come it and clean it. Well, people, the fuck clean-up fairy was me. and she is tired of picking up your shit. (this rant in not directed at nurse M. who knows better, she is not on my list) But this, my freinds, is not the end of the story. Being that I was the only Tech on, I had to cleans up after the RNs, which could have been donw if I didn't have 8 patients ready to be transported upstairs, a trauma coming in, and a ultrasound tech to babysit. and of course, ALL of the patients had to be taken up, RIGHT FUCKING THEN. I wouldn't even have gotten the first one off the elevator when I would get called (that fucking phone) to ask where I was and how long I would be because bed 6 needs to be taken upstairs before she asked one more time to have a bedpan and another glass of apple juice and another dose of pain meds becasuse the 6 mgs of diludid isnt quite doing the trick. Well, FUCK, lets me just leave this unstable chest pain pt thats on all kinds of drips here in the middle of the fucking hallway so that right now I can come down a help you with your needy drug seeking patient. If she's driving you that crazy, heres a novel idea..YOU FUCKING TAKE HER TO HER ROOM. that way I dont keep the evil looks from the RNs upstairs who look at me like I got six heads.

Then in rolls the sick as shit GSW. Inwhich I nurse procedded to ask me "when would I be able to take a patient to ultrasound because they are ready for her, oh and you have to stay because its a pelvic" I just looked at her whilts covered in blood and said "it will be a while" and walked off. It was like she wasn't even aware of the bloody mess going on behind me. then this resident is standing in my spot fiddling with an empty IV bad and says to me "there's blood inthe line" I just look at him and go "I know that theres blood in the line, its because he is recieving blood in that IV, now if you are not doing anything could you please take a few steps backwards, because your in my fucking way"

Then after hitting the repeat button, I felt like bill murray in goundhogday. The day shift comes in I'm halfed stocked and sstill running around cleaninf rooms left over from the 9 people I just took up. And the day techs don;t even listen to me when I try and tell them what was going on. One even walked off. Then I heard him bitching about how I never do anything and can't stock. well FUCK OFFF. I fucking quit.Im going back to EMS, where at least I have my family.

Math is to Calvin Ball as....

I always leave my math class feeling like I just played a fucked-up game of CalvinBall and nobody explained the rules.

Fpr those of you that don't know what "CalvinBall is here ae the rules http://www.i-am-bored.com/bored_link.cfm?link_id=6907
Its from the awsome discontinued comic "Calvin and Hobbes"

Also I was called a "sellout" last night by a medic who was introducing me to an FNG. Boy. was I pissed. My comeback was, "Im not a sellout, I just play for both teams by my own rules, much like CalvinBall" What really funny is he actually got the CBall referance. So there you have it to Calvin referances in less than 24 hours. Damn Im good.

Now Let's play.

All Work and No Play

Work has been work. The ER is still kicking my ass and the nights Im not there Im in the back of an ambulance saving humanity. But last night, last night I was off. Out of the ER, off the ambulance. I enjoyed a night with my best friend LB and the Violent Femmes. Oh yeah baby, I leaped around till the wee hours to American Music. It was the best damn show Ive been to since Rilo Kiley graced the east coast last year. Now if Tool and Snow Patrol would just come out here I could die happy.

Life otherwise uneventful. Failing my reject math class with grace. My sister, who turns 19 this week and who is much smarter than I, will be tutoring me in the coming week. If the damn equation isn't attched to weight conversions or drugs I'm clueless. I can save you life with a straw and an avacado, but just dont ask me to tell you what the absolute power of "x" is.

Im having issues with flickr and blogger so if the posts double up I will go back a delete one of them.

This is my grandfathers Rolleiflex. I shoot with it occasionally. My father gave this to me when I was in High School and was just really getting into photography. My graddaddy, Popeye, was a photographer back in the day and I have inherited several of his old cameras, and my aunt in in the process of digging out his old 8x10 field camera for me.

When I got this old Rollie, there was a roll of film in it. Color film and I can't find anywhere that proessess the type of film. So I have no idea what is on it

Folly Beach pre Ernesto

Folly Beach pre Ernesto
Originally uploaded by strange little girl 190.

Here we go. Storm Watch

Ernesto V

Ernesto V
Originally uploaded by strange little girl 190.

Ernesto rain bands

Ernesto rain bands
Originally uploaded by strange little girl 190.

if it makes you happy

I wrote this post actually on the Flickr group, Utata's, threads but I feel that since not everybody can read them I would post it here too.

Im going to preface this post with why I wanted to start this thread. I have come to see alot of you guy's, my Utatians, as close friends. This is not a Poor Little Girl, whoa as me thread. It is something else...read on, my friends and fellow Utata companions...

For the past few months I have been going through alot of things in my head. I haven't been in the best of spirits. I have had to back down from a job I enjoy with every ounce of my being (Paramedic) and into a new enviroment in which I don't quite get and feel like I don't quite belong (the ER) I am going back to school and as I sit in my math class I watch all of the people around me actaully get what all thouse x's and y's and inequality signs mean and feel really stupid because I just don't understand. I am having money issues for the first time since I moved out of my parents house 6 years ago and I have no idea how to reslove them. I haven't been sleeping well ( hence the 2am disscusion thread) and have been downright nasty to my friends and family. I have hidden myself from everyone who cares about me because Im afraid I will taint them with my misfortunes. My sister sent me this long email asking me "where her strong big sister has gone? And when is she coming back? I miss her."

Well, my sweet sister, she is slowly coming back. I started making a list. A list of the things that make me the happiest in the world. These are the top ten. (Oh, how I love top ten lists) in the end I whould like to hear about some of your greatest things that make your world keep spinning. It doesn't have to be 10 it can just be one. But As I work through my depression, I would like to hear how you work through yours.

*these are in no particular order*

10. Sitting under the boardwalk at Folly Beach, SC at sunrise listening to my iPod. The sea calms me and reminds me that out these in this huge world there is still a place for me to just sit and take it all in

9.The christmas card and emails from The Cyclist whos life I was a part of in saving. I don't think he knows it but he was a part in saving mine.

8.Talking to my mother in the middle of the night when I start feeling hopeless. She can always bring me back to the point where I do feel like I belong.

7. My best friend LB, she can have me laughing and crying all at the same time. She knows me better than most people ever will. She saved me in HS when I needed so much at that time to be saved. And I try now to repay that favor.

6. My sister, I may not show it very often, but love her with all my heart. And her way of storytelling is like no other.

5. My father, who despite his reservations about me becoming a paramedic, let me. And now is so proud of me that he tells everyone he meets how his daughter is a "ditch doctor in the painted band aid box"

4. Standing on front of a blank canvas, as if it is just wating on me to add the swirls of paint and bits of paper that with eventually become my art.

3. My camera and Flickr. Its in my way of showing the world what I see though my own eyes. I am able to release myself with the release of the shutter. I am able to lose myself in the moment that I am trying to capture.

2. Poker Night with my EMS family. These are the people that mean so much to me. We just sit around drinking beer and reliving the stories that make up our small little lives.

1. Going to my cousins home in Roswell, GA. We may not do much of anything while Im there, but that is the beauty of it. I go there to escape. They accept me with outstreatched arms when I feel like runnin away for a while ( even if it's just a few days)

Well this was a longer poat that I planned on it being, but now that I have shown you my happiness...whats yours?

All in a days work

I worked last night, not inside, but back on the streets. I am beginning to re-think the whole ER thing. This has been a harder transition than I thought it would be. I really do love the streets, I went from being a totally green EMT to a pretty good Paramedic. (Im not the best, but by no means the worst, I've been told that I could be trusted with a dying family member) I know what I'm doing and feel pretty confident in the practice of my medicine. But it will come...It will come (repeat as needed)

My shift last night was pretty much uneventful. No life saving, just a bunch of stupid ass people calling EMS for really stupid reasons. One, I think, made up a reason right on the spot. And one called for get this... He got shot at while driving down the interstate. He then dove into the overpass (not quite sure if he left his car running or if the car went with him or if a car was involed at all) and hit his fistula in his arm, breaking it and thus called us. Now the fistula was fine and the guy had been seen several hours ago at the same ER for "Glass running through his veins" Oh...wait...no the police called us because he got his house broken into and summonded the police first. The cop called us because he had never seen a fistula, didn't know it was supposed to buldge from the under the skin and it freaked him out. I took the time to explain what it was and "Yes, it is normal for it to look like that. and "feel this, its called a Thrill" the cop was nice enough apologized for waking us up and calling us out there for "this moron" But the "thing in his arm...I have never seen anything like it. Is it supposed to look like that?" He even offered to drop the guy off at the hospital once he found out that Yes, dear...it is supposed to look like that.

WTF?

So I my first and only pre-req for Respiratory Therapy school turns out to be a math class with things that look like something out of the show "Numbers" . Square Roots to the n-th power plus or minus x and, get this, and this is my personal favorite, IMAGINARY NUMBERS. WHAT!?! You do a whole page of writing x'es and a's and imaginary numbers and square roots and then after all this work x=another whole long equation that doesn't make any sense and you know what they call that? A "nonreal equation" Why is all this stuff not real. What on earth whould anyone need to know this? I may not be the sharpest tool in the drawer, brightest crayon in the box, but I do know that in paramedic school we, at least, dealt with real numbers that coresponds with a very real drug that you have to give to a very real patient. If this is what I need to get into Respiratory school, I am fucked. Like for real fucked. Not imaginary fucked

hospital work sucks

My first weekend at Miracle Hospital and I never have worked so hard. I have forgotton what it was like to be on my feet for a full 12 hours. In EMS, you have one patient at a time, not a whole ER. And it is work, hard work. You have to keep not only your 20 patients happy but your unit of nurses, attendings, residents, and students happy too. You are getting pulled from all diffrent directions by everybody. I'm beginning to hate the sound of my own name. It was a long hard two nights. Being the only Level One Trauma Center on the east coast of SC, we get the fucked-up of the Oh Fucks. The sickest of the sick. We had everything from GSWs to ABD pain times 1 year (Im not exaggerating, One year), I got home and literally crashed for 12 hours. I woke up at 9pm, ate a bowl of tomato soup and went back to bed for another 6 hours. My whole body hurt.

I'm having a hard time leaving Paramedic at the door. Being a EDT, you are the grunt. You do the scut work. You are in charge of nothing. And coming from the street, this is a hard thing to give up. On the street, you are the reason your patient is alive. You are making all the descions on treatment. Should I intubate, should I use a NRB or the BVM. Large bore or not to large bore that is the question. In the ER however, it's can I put this patient on oxygen Mr. Doctor Trauma Surgeon? Whould you like the Level One and Chestube? Can I do a 12 lead for you? I would be happy to serve you. I get pushed out of the way while Im trying to get vitals at the same time the same resident that had pushed me is screaming at me "Whats the patients BP!" Well Hun, if you quit pushing me back I could get it for you. Now move your ass and I will be happy to get everything you need. I even got my ankles run over by the XRay guy. I mean damn. I have never felt so disposable.

I also am having issues with the life restrictions the employee health people have put on me. I have been cleared by not one, but two doctors that actually examined me to go back to the streets. However a doctor that never laid eyes on me put a 25lbs lift restriction in the ER. Which translates to I can't push stretchers, transport pts upstairs or anything like that. Which is a big huge part of EDT. I hate having to tell my fellow EDTs to take a patient upstairs or tell a nurse that I can't. Because I can...just not according to a doctor that has never spoken to me all because of ONE line in my post op medical chart. Its like that one line totally overides the TWO notes of clearance from TWO diffrent doctors. It compleatly frustrating.

But I think I will get the hang of it. I will be able to switch back and forth from Paramedic to EDT. Its just gonna take a little bit. Ive done this before and I can do it again.

Cable

Cable
Originally uploaded by strange little girl 190.

Arthur's support system

Authur's support system
Originally uploaded by strange little girl 190.

I went for a walk today over the New Bridge. First time since it has been build that I got a wild hair up my ass to do it. These are some of the pics from my walk. for more check out my flickr stream. The link in on the right side of your screen.

Try not to hit the Pedestrians, please

Try not to hit the Pedestrians, please
Originally uploaded by strange little girl 190.

I'm sorry officer, I got confused

I'm sorry officer, I got confused
Originally uploaded by strange little girl 190.

Lights

Lights
Originally uploaded by strange little girl 190.

Dismount

Dismount
Originally uploaded by strange little girl 190.

Cables V

Cables V
Originally uploaded by strange little girl 190.

they want me to work now damnit

Orientation Week at Miracle Hospital. I have started back in the ER. Im in the AC all day, out of the rain and the heat. I have not completly left the ambulance behind I had a shift last night after my first day at the hospital in the middle of Bumfrack SC . I signed up for this shift several weeks ago. I had been contemplating backing out of it, but then I got to thinking. I could sit on my sofa in my PJs and watch CSI all night...oooorrrr...I could sit on the sofa in my PJs and watch CSI all night AND get paid to do it. So I chose the latter. Money is a big motivater.

What I have noticed if that I have forgotten what it was like to actually work for an entire 12 hours. With EMS it bordom with bouts of excitedness. We are able to sleep, watch TV, or play on the internet for hours at a time, sometimes. But in the ER, the ER never stops. Its like a 6 year old with a serious case of ADHD. It is 12 hours of work. True, run around, all the time work. I got home from my first day back. and I was fucking sore, every muscle in my body was screaming at me. My shoulders were so tight. I just layed in my bathtub, soaking in lavender and vanilla with a bottle of Yellow Tail until the water got cold. Then I iced my aching back. Followed by crashing hardcore without the pharmacutical help of Ambien I have been grown used to.

All these things that I've done

Yesterday was bittersweet. My last full time day as a Paramedic. Starting Monday I will be full time at the Trauma Center as an EDT. I will be controled and watched. I will have lost most of the autonomy I have become used to on the streets in exchange for the air conditioned controled choas of the ER. My official last day has come and went uneventful. We ran no calls, saved no lives. We only left the station one time to go cover another area while the whole system ran calls but us. The EMS gods, you could say, smiled down on us. However I did ask for one thing my last day and didn't get it. I wanted one last Kick Ass, Balls the the Walls trauma. I wanted blood. I wanted guts. I wanted to launch The Fucking Bird and land that bitch in the middle of Bohicket Road. But alas, disapointment again. How sick do I sound? But in the four years I worked for my system, I have never had to call for the heliocopter. I have RSIed, I have tubed a man with no face left but his eyes staring up at me, I have cardioverted . I have paced. I have given every drug we carry with the expection of Dopamine and Mag Sulfate, I have used all my training. But I have never been the one to call for the Bird. Thats all I asked for. But no, we did nothing. I watched CSI DVDs all day and read my Anderson Cooper memoir.

I remember my first day as a little green EMT. Coming from the same ER Im leaving the EMS world for. I was scared shitless. I hit a fence in the learning to drive the ambulance. I got cussed at and spit on. My first patient that I was alone with in the back of the box was a man with ABD discomfort secondary to drinking moonshine. Really, Moonshine. He made it himself. In downtown no less. I broke a Morphine vial my third day, resulting in hours of paperwork and drug testing. I got us lost on the way to the hospital with a full arrest my forth day. By the weeks end, I was ready to quit. But was convinced that everybody's first week is awful by my Senior Crew Cheif. My second week was better. I got my first tube. And I was able to ffind the hospitals without getting lost. I knew how to make people move to the right with the siren and airhorn. I was getting the hang of it.

Two years later, I graduated from Paramedic School. I had my card and my patch and I was ready. By then, I had already had my scary trauma, The Cyclist. I learned to deal with my new power. I was given a new partner who lacked all common sense. One that would leave me alone with patients that were literally dying. So It would just be me, a cop, and a couple of fire guys. My first patient as a Medic was a symtomatic bradycardic that was agonal and was going to die at any moment. But I saved her. I, Me. With a cop bagging her and me trying to figure out the pacer...and my partner no where to be found. But It was fine, I tubed her, paced her, and got her to the hospital alive, where she was cathed 15 minutes later. I shooked for hours after that. Then yelled at my partner to never under any circumsances leave me alone with a dying patient. I must have scared him because he didn't talk to me for at least a week. I can be very scary. Really, I can be.

Not long after that I birthed my first baby. It was gross and amazing at the same time. She had a very healthy set of lungs on her.

Then came the I can't get an IV or do anything right stage. I had a death. It wasn't my fault, the heart was just done. Broken beyond repair. I did everything I could, gave all the right drugs, did all the right things, but it was futile. He died anyways. Right in front of me. That took me a while to get over. But It was then I learned you can't save everybody.

I love this job. I love being a Paramedic. But, it come to an end, for now. Once I finish my fist couple of weeks at my new job, and start school, I will pick up a few shifts here and there with EMS. I will not forget this time in my life. I am 26 years old and have seen life and death. What more can I ask for...But LAUNCH THE FUCKING BIRD, DAMNIT.

Posts in a Row

Posts in a Row
Originally uploaded by strange little girl 190.

I went to shoot the new bridge and shot these posts and sunset instead. The hot and haze is not helping with the bridge shooting. It covers the city and blends the cables into the bright white sky. It starting to be really frustrating

Authur Ravenel Bridge

Authur Ravenel Bridge
Originally uploaded by strange little girl 190.

the ghost

Everywhere in my city is haunted. This city is one of the oldest in the nation. Established because of the great harbour and large port. Pirates, sea men, boats, ships. The whole downtown is build facing the ocean so that in the days before god gave us the joy of AC the winds off the coast would cool the homes. There are streets made out of the cobble stones that were used to weigh the ships down in thier home ports before they sailed here. This is were American History starts. I know its not like Europe, where history is measured in 1000s of years. But It is the history of my country. So that brings us back to the ghosts. They are in every home on the Battery. They come in shapes of children, civil war soldiers, and ruined women. Some are frightning, some not so much. I know many of them, because as a child, my father would read the ghost stories to me. My girl scout troop leaders would tell them to me. So call me niave, call me lame, but okay...I believe them.

So flash to me starting at EMS...and my first shift at Medic 10. My crew cheif thought it would be funny to tell me, the little green EMT, about "The Ghost" Yes, there is an Indian Ghost that resides in the Medic 10 station. Apparently in full headdress, and he like to scare the new EMTs and Medics. So for the months I worked that station I slept with the lights on. I never saw the indian, but everyone knows about it. At recent count... of current employees I know of only one who has actully see him. And I don't want to be the second. I am still scared of the Indian. I told my best friend about the ghost and how I can't sleep at the station, at least not in the bunk room. I sleep in the living room in the recliner, with a lamp and the TV on. Just in case the ghost happens to like CSI:. When I told LB about this, she laughed so hard she fell out of her chair. She started hyperventilating. She said in between breaths "You, my big, strong, best friend, that sees dead bodies, can save lives that can drive an ambulance like she stole it in on coming traffic, and is scared of nothing, is frightened by a ghost she doesn't even know exsits". Yes, and you can qiut laughing at me now. I might not know much, but I do know better than to fuck with the afterlife.

Scar Tissue

Scar Tissue
Originally uploaded by strange little girl 190.

This is the scar left over from the knife that fixed me. My surgeon cut to the left of my tattoo because he couldn't cut through the medical symbol. I got the caduas several years ago for protection after I started having some pain. It is part of a drawing I did in High School. Now I am beginning a new career path, taking a few steps back, back into the ER were I got my medical start. The ambulance still feels like home. But now I am going to make a new home in the hospital. Still caring for the sick and the stupid. Just not at 60MPH.

Can I still call myself "Paramedic"?

Well it official...I am leaving the ambualnce full time and going into the controlled chaos of the Emergency Room. I wrote about this several posts ago, while I was still out in injury. This is not a choice I made because I wanted to, it was because I had to. I am a 26 year old paramedic that at my young age had back surgery. Back in March, I started having pain. Pain I had been familar with since I was 15, but at 15 I was not carting 80lbs of gear and lifting gurneys up flights of stairs. So I made the trip to my spine doc I had been dreading since the day I put on the uniform. Surgery, he said, could fix me, but if I wanted to keep walking like a normal person, EMS is not where I needed to be. So after four months, during the recovery period of my spine post surgery, thinking about what to do now, I came up with it. I would quit the job I have grown to love, go back into the ER, and start respiratory therapy school.

EMS is not what I wanted to do when I began college. I was a fine art major in college, learning all the finer points of photography. It was, however, photography that got me into EMS. When I was studying, my mother worked in the Trauma Center. For my final, our assignment was a photo essay. I did my essay in the ER. After having all the papers signed and the rules laid down (really only one...No patients). I spent the next 13 weeks shooting in the ER, getting to know the night shift and becoming like a little sister to all the staff. My mom moved to the Pediatric ER during the shoot, but I would still come around get a couple rolls of film off and go home. I was there every weekend shooting. I learned that they cut all the clothes off of trauma patients and was told by the staff if I ever came in as a drunk MVA they would cut my clothes off no matter how bad I was injured. I watched as the cracked chests, fixed broken limbs, and intubabted asthma patients. And I fell in love with it. The mess, the chaos, the blood. Yes, I was hooked. So that summer, I started in the ER as a EDT. After a few years, the medics pushed my into the streets. S here I am, a busted up and broken medic, having to go a few steps backwards to go forwards.

I will still be on the ambulance part time. I worked to hard to get through the hell that is paramedic school ( I lost 30lbs and never got more than 3-4 hours of sleep a night during the almost two years of school) to just give it up compleatly. I do love it. I love the patients, working with the other public servants (police fire my co-workers), driving the three ton truck compleate with lights and sirens, like I stole it. Where else can you drive on the wrong side of the road, and get away with it? I will continue to play paramedic as much as possible. And I will continue to blog about my experiences.

The post is dedicated to a a reader of my blog who doesn't have anything to do in EMS and wants to know what all the accronyms and abrivations mean. So here are some we use, some official medical terms, some not so much...

LSB: long spine board
CSpine: the whole package with the Collar, board, straps,tape used for neck and back injuries. It's kinda like a whole body splint.
CAOx3: conscious alert and oriented to place date and name
PMSx4 pulse motor and sensation in all 4 limbs
SOB: Shortness of breath
CP: chest pain
SZ: Seizure
HTN: hypertension
IDDM/ NIDDM: diebeties (insulin and non insulin dependent)
PERL: pupils equal reactive to light
ALS; ain't liftin' shit or advanced life support
BLS: Be liftin shit or basic life support
CPR: cardio-pulmonary rescu
FUBAR: fucked up beyond all reconition
CATS: cut all to shit
CTD: circling the drain
WUD: woke up dead
TSTL/D: to stupid to live/die
FDGB: Fall down go boom
DFO/IC: Done fall out /in church
ART: assuming room temperature
DRT: Dead right thar
HIBGIA: Had it before, got it again
TBC: total body crunch
CHF: congestive Heart failure
MI: Myocardial infarction
CVA: cerebral vascular accident
MVA: motor vehicle accident
HA: headache
NGAH: no groceries at home
FOW: fish outta water (Seizure)

Now those are just some...comment if you got new ones. I always need a chuckle.

You know the old phrase...

...you can't bullshit a bullshitter. Well, you can. I have proof. We got played. Truly and utterly played. And it totally pisses me off. Hindsight is always 20/20.

So we get called to an "unconscious trauma". We were about 20 minutes away standing by in another district so we go taking off down this oak tree lined two-lane highway, lights, sirens blaring. FD calls and tells us, Yeah she is totally out, responsive to nothing. Not pain, not voice...nothing. When we get there we are met outside by the FD and staff of the place. They tell us that she was moving tables from a stack and the stack toppled over on top of her striking her in the head and pinning her head between the floor and the table. We walk in and damnit all if she isn't seizing. Not tonic clonic flailing like a fish, but a quiet focal SZ, but apparently she had been doing it about 10-15 mins PTA. So I start a line and give the Ativan...and she stops. We package her in C-Spine and get her out to the truck. Where we discover that her pupils are unequal. Like ones is dialated and the other is constricted. They are sluggish to react. And she is OUT, responsive to only really deep pain. She is breathing and her spO2 is 100% on a Non-rebreather. I call into the trauma center and get orders for another MG of Ativan and one more is the SZs start again. I get a second line put in and my partner notices another SZ. So one more MG of Ativan. Her eyes are becoming less reactive. The sternal rubs aren't doing anything, the big ol' IVs I put in aren't doing anything. So she has had recent head trauma, is unresponsive, has unequal and sluggish pupils and is activly seizing...or so we thought. We had a fire guy drive us in, code 7, risking life and limb driving down the two lane highway with all the trees. Not just risking our lives, but the other motorists on the road because getting over for the blaring ambualnce means risking hitting a huge tree...and we all know that people can freak out with an ambulance screaming down the street. We get to the ER after working our assess off trying to one...figure out why she is seizing and two...trying to make them stop. If she hadn't been holding her own on the airway front, she would have been RSIed and bought herself a tube and an ICU bed. The ER doc actually got into it with a trauma resident over the CT scanner. Feeling that she needed the scan first because of the head trauma and all of the other symptoms, not the stable trauma. Now after the scan is when Mom shows up...and proceeds to tell the ER doc SHE IS FAKING IT. ALL OF IT. She has been seen by several neurologists and they all say the same thing...PSEUDOSEIZURES, faking it. And she has been doing it for years. and has it down to an artform, this girl had us fooled, the FD fooled, the ER fooled. But what about the pupils you ask? She has history of head injury when she was very young, they are always unequal, it happens I guess.

Now the more I thought about this the more pissed off I get. This is EMS abuse at its worst. This pisses me off more that going to an ABD pain x 2 weeks in the middle of the night. For the sole reason that we thought this girl was truly hurt. We worked our asses off trying to help her. We put numerous people at risk just getting her to the hospital, driving down the road CAT 2, we put our lives at risk for the same reason. We fought the good fight for her. Then looked like a moron when finding out is was all an act. It hurts your pride and it makes you think that everyone is faking it. It makes you jaded and mistrusting. We trusted our guts and it turns out that your guts, the ones you use to treat potentially sick people, was so totaly wrong that you don't know if you can rely on them.

As I thought more about the call, I remember her possibly "helping" me move her arm, the seizure might not have looked right. But I could be all wrong.

We do what?!?

Frank Pierce: "I realised that my training was useful in less than ten percent of the calls, and saving lives was rarer than that. After a while, I grew to understand that my role was less about saving lives than about bearing witness. I was a grief mop. It was enough that I simply turned up."

This is one of my favorite lines from a movie. Every paramedic, firefighter, police officer, ER doc, ER nurse, EDT, and rescue worker understands this line. Because that is what we do, we bear witness to the atrocities of human behavior, we soak it in, and it becomes part of our being. If you stay in this job long enough, you see the ghosts. I drove past the spot where a cyclist was hit yesterday. I haven't been back to that area since the call three years ago...and I started shaking. Now, he is not a ghost, in fact he is alive and doing quite well, but that call shook my entire being up. He was my one call, in which everything came together, my partner, my mentor and I worked to actually save this man's life. He changed everything I ever thought of EMS. Before him, I had never "saved" anyone. I thought our job was to just get the patient to the hospital in one peice, alive, but we don't actually save anybody. We postpone the eniveitable... And for the majority of calls, thats it. We give a little of this drug and little of that drug, maybe shock 'em back to life, but save them? No. We stablize and transport to definitive care, so that the MDs at the hospitals can figure out what has gone so teribbly wrong as to summound us and thats what saves them. But once in a blue while, and this is so rare that there are even some seasoned medics that can't say this. We actually "save" them. It was our hands, our skill, our years of training that are the reason that they are still walking around. Not the doctors, not the ER, but us, the Paramedics, EMTs and Rescue Workers. I have been lucky on that front, I got that realization early in my EMS career.

We get called, we show up, sometimes on the worst day of somebody's life. We take their pain and make it our pain as to lessen the blow, maybe. I have seen total and utter fear in some of my patient's eyes. Sometimes, I can do nothing but show up and the fear goes away. Sometimes, I can do everything in my control and the fear stays. On any given day, I can see life, death, sickness, sheer happiness, or total defeat. But I will always be there, even if all they need is somebody to listen to them. To convince them that they are not alone, that somebody, even a stranger, as I am, will let them tell their story. And so I might tell it for them when they are no longer able to.

Wow, this was a rambling post. But whatever, EMS isn't this deep all the time. Most of the time it's just a ride to the hospital. A really bumpy, uncomfortable ride to the hospital. So just advise and transport.