When I first started this blog, it's main purpose was going to be discussing EMS. The weird calls I ran, the crappy and not-so-crappy shifts, and my dealings with the pranksters at the fire station. I wasn't going to really talk about my "real life," or what happened while not in uniform. Because really - who would want to read about that? I wanted every post to be extraordinary, one that would grab my erstwhile reader by the throat and not let go until I'd taken them on a fast-paced roller coaster ride of emotions, describing my adventures in the ambulance!!
Come to find out...I didn't have all that much exciting stuff to write about. Nothing's really happened lately noteworthy enough for me to even blog about, much less for a total stranger to read about! Most of our calls have been run-of-the-mill sick people, or folks who just needed a taxi ride to the hospital. We did have a standby for a commercial structure fire a few shifts ago - one of my firsts while being on the ambulance. We got to stand around in the pouring rain and pounding hail with lightning flashing overhead while the guys put the wet stuff on the hot stuff.
So I stopped blogging, before this fledgling blog even got off the ground. I just didn't have anything to talk about! What was the point? No one was reading it but me. I didn't tell anyone that I was blogging, and I still haven't. No one cares what I have to say.
But I'm going to do it anyway - nobody likes a quitter, right? I'm going to write about my family, the trials and tribulations of trying to plan a destination wedding on a shoestring budget, the growing pains my fiance and I are experiencing trying to merge two families into one. You'll get to hear some stories about my Labradork Retarded, who actually sent me to the ER the other night with a possible right arm fracture.
Now THAT was a funny story...
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Friday, February 18, 2011
One of Those Shifts
So yesterday was just one of those shifts - you know the one I'm talking about. You're on duty for 24 hours, and you run two or three calls in the first 18 hours. The day drags on, you're bored out of your mind...you can't stay awake if you sit down in the day room, but you know that as soon as you make your bunk up and unzip your boots, tones are gonna drop.
You've got to admit that those of us in EMS are a superstitious lot...you don't say the "Q" word while you're on duty, you never say ANYTHING about how long it's been since your last cardiac arrest at the nursing home, and if you ever find a student third-rider that's a White Cloud, you make sure they do every clinical ride along in the back of your truck.
My truck is usually pretty darn busy - our company prints out stats for every truck each month, and last month, our truck outran every other one by 40 calls. We have by far the largest territory, and usually when a call comes out, it's going to be something good. We run our share of BS calls - we've got 5 nursing homes in our zone - but we also land the most helicopters for major trauma and CVAs. It's nothing for us to run 7-10 calls a shift...my personal best was 13.
Getting back to the whole superstition thing...it's rare for my truck to not run more than 4 calls before bedtime. We dread those days, because we KNOW we're going to be busting our butts all night. We've actually jumped another truck's calls around dinner time to up our numbers, just so we can get some sleep. Crazy? You betcha. :) But it always seems to work.
Not the case yesterday - everyone was slow. And don't you know it...right about time the bunk room chit-chat quieted down (think The Waltons, only with crude humor and ping pong balls being flung around the room) and we got all warm and comfy in our beds...dispatch with "Units, stand by for a call."
GRR!! Get up, get dressed, somebody hit the button so the friggin' encoder will stop beeping, grab your radio, get in the truck, grab some gum so you don't have Refusal Breath, and flip on the lights and sirens.
Run your call, clean the back of the ambulance, finish up your PCR. Chat with your favorite nurses, who tell you to go back to station and not to bring them any more patients.
Back in service, back into the bay, back in the bunk room. Boots off, uniform shirt hanging beside the bed. Slip under the covers, find that perfect spot...
"Units, stand by for a call."
You've got to admit that those of us in EMS are a superstitious lot...you don't say the "Q" word while you're on duty, you never say ANYTHING about how long it's been since your last cardiac arrest at the nursing home, and if you ever find a student third-rider that's a White Cloud, you make sure they do every clinical ride along in the back of your truck.
My truck is usually pretty darn busy - our company prints out stats for every truck each month, and last month, our truck outran every other one by 40 calls. We have by far the largest territory, and usually when a call comes out, it's going to be something good. We run our share of BS calls - we've got 5 nursing homes in our zone - but we also land the most helicopters for major trauma and CVAs. It's nothing for us to run 7-10 calls a shift...my personal best was 13.
Getting back to the whole superstition thing...it's rare for my truck to not run more than 4 calls before bedtime. We dread those days, because we KNOW we're going to be busting our butts all night. We've actually jumped another truck's calls around dinner time to up our numbers, just so we can get some sleep. Crazy? You betcha. :) But it always seems to work.
GRR!! Get up, get dressed, somebody hit the button so the friggin' encoder will stop beeping, grab your radio, get in the truck, grab some gum so you don't have Refusal Breath, and flip on the lights and sirens.
Run your call, clean the back of the ambulance, finish up your PCR. Chat with your favorite nurses, who tell you to go back to station and not to bring them any more patients.
Back in service, back into the bay, back in the bunk room. Boots off, uniform shirt hanging beside the bed. Slip under the covers, find that perfect spot...
"Units, stand by for a call."
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
5 Facts About Me
1. I am a mom of two great kids - The Girl is 14 (going on 20), and The Boy is almost 7. I spaced them out that way, thinking, "With seven years difference, they won't fight and argue, right?" WRONG!! They can actually coexist in the same room for short periods of time, but anything over an hour and someone's going to be bruised or bleeding...good thing I'm an EMT!
I also have two "almost" children - Cupcake, who is 11, and Little Man, who is 4. They might not be children of my body, but they are children of my heart. I've only had a relationship with them for a little over a year, but they are nonetheless mine. I wish I could spend more time with them...maybe, one day.
2. I'm in a committed relationship with the man of my dreams. Hose Jockey (henceforth known as HJ) is a firefighter for a neighboring county, and we constantly tease each other about who's cooler - EMS or fire. I call him HJ (or Stretcher Fetcher - my personal favorite), and he calls me Scissor Packer. It's not derogatory - it's just our thing.
He's actually the one who came up with the name of this blog - even taught Little Man when he was a baby to call out, "Look! There's a bandaid wagon!" any time he saw an ambulance. Then came The Boy saying, "My mommy is a bandaid wagon driver!" It's our household running joke - they say it, I act all mad and insulted. :)
He and I met years and years ago, and he became my best friend. We just clicked the first time we met, which was odd for him, because he's almost painfully shy. After years of friendship, we decided to try out a relationship - and we've never looked back. I believe it was Plato that said that at birth our souls are split in two, and we spend the rest of our lives looking for our other half. I have no doubt that I've met mine.
3. I've been an EMT since June of 2009. Immediately after graduating, I got a job for a BLS service that ran 911 calls for a large metro area. Our job was to run basic calls on our own, and respond to the local fire units onscene of a call to transport the patient to the hospital. Coming from a small town, this was a huge culture shock for me. I had no experience driving an ambulance (we actually had "vanbulances," but still!), especially not on 4-lane interstates with rude drivers. I had never dealt with people who lived in abject poverty such as this, with boarded-up windows, garbage in the corner...and the ever-present smells. We really got no respect from the local firefighters (had one tell me, "You all look alike to me."), we posted in the vans for 12+ hours at a time, and management was unreasonable - it was tough. Not what I was expecting when I got that National Registry card!
4. I now work for a private company that provides 911 service for a smaller county, which has a more family feel. We have three dedicated ALS trucks, one BLS truck, and ALS and BLS non-emergency transport trucks. I am on an ALS truck that's based out of a fire station with 4 firefighters. My regular partner, Super Medic, is amazing - we've been together for 8 months. He's on the disabled list at the moment - blew his knee out, and won't be back on the truck for probably another month or so. I miss him terribly - he and I had developed a rhythm that worked for us, both on calls and off. Now I'm playing Potluck Partner, so I get to learn another medic's strengths and weaknesses and weirdness every shift.
It gets old.
5. Speaking of firefighters - my guys are amazing. I've never been in a situation where I spent long periods of time with men to whom I'm not related. And it was pretty obvious on my first few shifts that they'd never had a "hen in their rooster house" before, either!! We managed to work through the awkwardness - they now close the door to the bathroom, and I look the other way when they run around the bunkroom in their boxers. You're sure to hear stories about them here, because the pranks they pull are legendary. They like to have fun and goof off, but when it comes time, I couldn't ask for a better group of guys to have my back on calls.
I also have two "almost" children - Cupcake, who is 11, and Little Man, who is 4. They might not be children of my body, but they are children of my heart. I've only had a relationship with them for a little over a year, but they are nonetheless mine. I wish I could spend more time with them...maybe, one day.
2. I'm in a committed relationship with the man of my dreams. Hose Jockey (henceforth known as HJ) is a firefighter for a neighboring county, and we constantly tease each other about who's cooler - EMS or fire. I call him HJ (or Stretcher Fetcher - my personal favorite), and he calls me Scissor Packer. It's not derogatory - it's just our thing.
He's actually the one who came up with the name of this blog - even taught Little Man when he was a baby to call out, "Look! There's a bandaid wagon!" any time he saw an ambulance. Then came The Boy saying, "My mommy is a bandaid wagon driver!" It's our household running joke - they say it, I act all mad and insulted. :)
He and I met years and years ago, and he became my best friend. We just clicked the first time we met, which was odd for him, because he's almost painfully shy. After years of friendship, we decided to try out a relationship - and we've never looked back. I believe it was Plato that said that at birth our souls are split in two, and we spend the rest of our lives looking for our other half. I have no doubt that I've met mine.
3. I've been an EMT since June of 2009. Immediately after graduating, I got a job for a BLS service that ran 911 calls for a large metro area. Our job was to run basic calls on our own, and respond to the local fire units onscene of a call to transport the patient to the hospital. Coming from a small town, this was a huge culture shock for me. I had no experience driving an ambulance (we actually had "vanbulances," but still!), especially not on 4-lane interstates with rude drivers. I had never dealt with people who lived in abject poverty such as this, with boarded-up windows, garbage in the corner...and the ever-present smells. We really got no respect from the local firefighters (had one tell me, "You all look alike to me."), we posted in the vans for 12+ hours at a time, and management was unreasonable - it was tough. Not what I was expecting when I got that National Registry card!
4. I now work for a private company that provides 911 service for a smaller county, which has a more family feel. We have three dedicated ALS trucks, one BLS truck, and ALS and BLS non-emergency transport trucks. I am on an ALS truck that's based out of a fire station with 4 firefighters. My regular partner, Super Medic, is amazing - we've been together for 8 months. He's on the disabled list at the moment - blew his knee out, and won't be back on the truck for probably another month or so. I miss him terribly - he and I had developed a rhythm that worked for us, both on calls and off. Now I'm playing Potluck Partner, so I get to learn another medic's strengths and weaknesses and weirdness every shift.
It gets old.
5. Speaking of firefighters - my guys are amazing. I've never been in a situation where I spent long periods of time with men to whom I'm not related. And it was pretty obvious on my first few shifts that they'd never had a "hen in their rooster house" before, either!! We managed to work through the awkwardness - they now close the door to the bathroom, and I look the other way when they run around the bunkroom in their boxers. You're sure to hear stories about them here, because the pranks they pull are legendary. They like to have fun and goof off, but when it comes time, I couldn't ask for a better group of guys to have my back on calls.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Yet Another EMS Blog...
I've been reading EMS blogs since before I started EMT school, when the idea of zooming around in an ambulance and saving lives was just a tickle in my head. Someone sent me a link to Kelly Grayson's
A Day In The Life of an Ambulance Driver" site, which became a daily read for me (sometimes more often, when he's feeling prolific). It snagged me - hook, line, and cursor.
I started visiting folks on his blog roll, bookmarking sites while I laughed, cried, and even learned how to be a better medic. I read stories of crappy shifts, crappy patients (sometimes quite literally) , and crappy partners. I cheered Epijunky on while she bravely fought her way through Medic school, shed tears with Michael Morse as he rides the rescue...there are so many EMS blogs out here in cyberspace, each and every one valuable for the knowledge, camaraderie, and enjoyment they impart!
I'm not really sure what's made me think I might write something that someone else wants to read, but I'm going to give it a shot. I'm still pretty new to this whole EMS thing, and sometimes stuff happens on the truck that I just want to talk about with people who might understand what I'm feeling, and what's running around in my head. There are those calls that make great stories - "You aren't gonna BELIEVE what this patient just asked me to do!!" and there are those that, no matter what you do, how you try to rationalize or compartmentalize, you can't get out of your head. That patient is going to be there when you finally make it back to the bunk room and hit the bed - you're going to run that call over and over, critiquing every move you made, every intervention, every decision...You can't forget the look on his wife's face when she looks through the pass-through and sees you doing compressions on her husband's chest, the medic getting his intubation kit out. I don't think we're supposed to forget, and I don't think we should be able to just...get over it.
I want to be the best EMT I can be, and I think that every one of these calls - what I take away from them - makes me stronger, smarter, and better.
A Day In The Life of an Ambulance Driver" site, which became a daily read for me (sometimes more often, when he's feeling prolific). It snagged me - hook, line, and cursor.
I started visiting folks on his blog roll, bookmarking sites while I laughed, cried, and even learned how to be a better medic. I read stories of crappy shifts, crappy patients (sometimes quite literally) , and crappy partners. I cheered Epijunky on while she bravely fought her way through Medic school, shed tears with Michael Morse as he rides the rescue...there are so many EMS blogs out here in cyberspace, each and every one valuable for the knowledge, camaraderie, and enjoyment they impart!
I'm not really sure what's made me think I might write something that someone else wants to read, but I'm going to give it a shot. I'm still pretty new to this whole EMS thing, and sometimes stuff happens on the truck that I just want to talk about with people who might understand what I'm feeling, and what's running around in my head. There are those calls that make great stories - "You aren't gonna BELIEVE what this patient just asked me to do!!" and there are those that, no matter what you do, how you try to rationalize or compartmentalize, you can't get out of your head. That patient is going to be there when you finally make it back to the bunk room and hit the bed - you're going to run that call over and over, critiquing every move you made, every intervention, every decision...You can't forget the look on his wife's face when she looks through the pass-through and sees you doing compressions on her husband's chest, the medic getting his intubation kit out. I don't think we're supposed to forget, and I don't think we should be able to just...get over it.
I want to be the best EMT I can be, and I think that every one of these calls - what I take away from them - makes me stronger, smarter, and better.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)