Translate your blog into...jive? (H/T to Sam)

It's funny. I don't care who ya are ;)
Here's an example...

Original post:

He did what?

(H/T to Xavier)

Okay, so let me get this straight. A family heirloom. And he had it destroyed because he has this pollyanna belief that ALL guns are evil.

This guy has officially earned the Epi's "Sell Crazy Elsewhere" award.

Becomes this work of art:

He did what?

(izzle ta Xavia)

Okay, so let me git this straight. A family heirloom . Boo-Yaa!. And he had it destroyed coz he has this pollyanna belief thiznat ALL gats is evil . Keep'n it gangsta dogg.

This homey has officially earned tha Epi's "Sell Crazy Elsewhere" award.

*Snip*

I really need to work Boo-Yaa! into my everyday conversations more.



Somedays are harder than others...

RIIIING RIIIIIIIIIIIIING.... RIIIING RIIIIIIIIIIIING...

Epi: Hello?
Cool Dispatcher: Hey Epi... How are you today?
Epi: (cautiously) Ooohkay...
Cool Dispatcher: Wanna go play with a body?
Epi: *SNORT* Is that some kind of weird twisted EMS pickup line?
Cool Dispatcher: (laughing) Head over to House of Death Nursing Home. Ya'll have a body run.
Epi: You know you're my favorite dispatcher, right?
Cool Dispatcher: Make sure you get Sleeping Partner to get a set of vitals.
Epi: Will do.

I hang the phone up and head out to the day room in the station where Sleeping Partner is *gasp* NOT sleeping. He's playing XBox.

Epi: We have a run, let's get going.
Sleeping Partner: I was just about to take a nap.

I pick up my coat and coffee cup and start for the truck. Sleeping Partner is still rampaging through some mythical forest in his underwear. In the video game of course.

"HEY... GRASSHOPPER!!!" I yell over my shoulder. "Get a move on already!"

I can hear him mumble under his breath and pause his game. "Yes, Mom"

I get into the truck and key up the radio.

"Unit XXX"

Cool Dispatcher responds, "Unit XXX go"

"We're enroute, sir."

Cool Dispatcher: "Gotcha enroute Unit XXX, 1135."

The truck idles for a minute before Sleeping Partner makes an appearance.

"Where are we heading?" He asks

"H-O-D... just up the street." I put the truck in drive and pull slowly out of the garage. It's unbelievably bright outside, the sky the perfect shade of Carolina Blue. I'm extremely grateful I remembered my sunglasses.

The trip to House of Death is less than five minutes, or it would have been had I not turned the wrong way onto the street it's on. I've only lived in this area for seven years... You would think I could easily find this nursing home that I've passed at least a thousand times.

We unload the cot and start our way into the nursing home.

Two elderly gentlemen are sitting in wheelchairs by the door when we enter... I recognize one as a patient we had the week before who had spent the entire trip hitting on me and at the end even proposed. He even offered to cook me a good steak. I almost took him up on it. I love a good steak :) He recognized me immediately.

"There's my girlfriend, Frank, ain't she a beauty?"

All I could do was giggle. "I'm still thinking about that steak."

Sleeping partner offers the gentleman my phone number. I push the yellow stretcher into his backside hard. He shuts up.

Frank speaks up now, "Who are you coming here for? It's not me, is it?"

Sleeping Partner mumbles under his breath, "We're looking for someone with no pulse."

"No sir, not here for you. You gentleman have a great afternoon now," I say as we head towards the nurses station.

The hallways are for the most part empty. Unusual for a nursing home... I'm used to seeing several folks sitting out in the hallway in their wheelchairs or with walkers, and of course the nursing staff, the drug carts, the hoyer lifts... Not today, the halls are desolate. I imagine tumbleweed blowing across my path. It makes me laugh and takes my mind off of what we're about to do.

We round the corner and meet a lone nurse in the hallway. She has paperwork for us to sign to receive our patient. Business as usual for her. Not so much for me.

"Epi? You okay?" Sleeping partner asks, genuine concern in his voice.

"I've told you how I hate body runs, right?"

"You have mentioned it once or twice..."

"I really, really hate them."

"I can handle this myself," Sleeping Partner offers, "You're looking a little pale."

I put my big girl pants on and refuse. "I'll be fine, let's just get her loaded up."

We walk down the hall to her room, 408, 406, 404, 402. Our patient was just inside. Children's drawings are taped to the door, which is closed. I start to feel unbelievable sadness. I run my hand over the coloring book page before pushing the door open.

The door swings open and we see our patient for the first time, laying in bed, the blankets pulled up to her chest. Eyes open, mouth open. I struggle to find something else to look at. Pictures on the wall of her family, several generations enjoying themselves at a picnic. Several books on a large book case, classics... Moby Dick, Pride and Prejudice, Little Women, The Bible. A dictionary with long yellowed pages.

Please don't make me have to look back at her.

"Epi?" Sleeping Partner gently says, "Are you okay?" His sweet tone makes me smile. For as much crap as I give him, right now I want to hug him. He's being a great partner.

Now we have to get her onto the stretcher. I thank god for linens and sheet pulls and for the fact that she can't weigh more than a hundred pounds. We easily move her to the stretcher. One leg gets caught and I move it into place. We cover her up with a sheet and secure her to the cot. I find myself thinking of my Grandmother who passed away almost ten years ago. I pray that whoever transported her took care of her. I send a quick prayer up for our patient and her family.

The walk back through the nursing home to the doors where our ambulance is parked is quick. Sleeping Partner and I are both quiet.

Our patient is safely loaded and secured in the back of the ambulance. I take a moment to collect myself. Why do I let myself get so worked up over these body runs? Maybe it's because I can't help but think of this patient as a Life. Someone's Grandmother, someone's daughter. Someone who will be missed. At least I hope. The alternative is too heartbreaking.

The rest of the run was significantly more humorous, and it just doesn't feel right to include it in this post... Maybe later.

Happy Birthday to me.

nom nom nom / nooo it are my birthday

My entire family has forgotten.

With the exception of my Daddy. He actually called me and sung happy birthday. Then he bitched for twenty minutes about how no one at my company knows how to drive an ambulance.

Thanks Dad.

From this point forward, my birthday is cancelled. I'll be forever 32.

He did what?

(H/T to Xavier)

Okay, so let me get this straight. A family heirloom. And he had it destroyed because he has this pollyanna belief that ALL guns are evil.

This guy has officially earned the Epi's "Sell Crazy Elsewhere" award.

Baby Girl... (POTD)

Baby Girl (March 2008 - Epi)

She's turning three this week. THREE. Good God I hope there terrible two's are over. Somehow I doubt it.


Sleepy Partner Revealed

Okay, so he's not amused... Here he is anyway.

Well... he's not sleeping anyway... Actually, before he sprayed me down he had been washing the truck. God love him.

So that was that.

My last post was post 200. Not bad considering I started this venture about nine months back.

I also apparently flipped 10,000 hits not so long ago.

It's not AD traffic, but I'll take it.

To everyone who comes here to read something I wrote, be it about EMS, my family, or even about Bleeding Pimples, thank you.

I just realized that I started an email address for this blog and never posted it. I'm such a flake sometimes :)

You can email me directly at epijunky@gmail.com.

0430 (Fiction, poorly written by Epi)

0430.


The alarm clock screamed out the lyrics to Stronger by Kanye West... Appropriate considering how sore and slow she felt. She sat up in bed and rubbed her temples in an attempt to simultaneously clear the cobwebs and will herself to get up and get moving.

“Hey, turn the alarm off, will ya?”

Her husband rolled over and slapped the small digital clock hard. The glass of water that had taken up residence on the nighstand spilled it's contents all over. The alarm was finally quiet, Kanye stunned into silence for a few more minutes.

Her joints hurt, her back ached, her head throbbed. She felt significantly older than her 31 years.

That that don't kill me, can only make me stronger....I need you to hurry up now, 'cause I can't wait much longer....

“God I hate that song.” She mumbled to herself. She managed to get to her feet and descend down the stairs to her living room.

The house was dark, the cold cherry wood floors she loved so much when they bought it now seem like just another irritation in the morning. The living room's only source of light came from the blinking display on the DVD player.

She stepped on no less than three small dog toys on the way to the bathroom. She could hear her dog furiously lapping up water in the kitchen.

The small space heater warmed her tiny bathroom up quickly, and for that small comfort she was grateful. She turned the shower on with the water set as hot as she could take it. The massage head pounded on her stiff muscles, in a pitiful attempt to work the tension out of them. It failed miserably.

She stepped out of the shower and cursed the icy tile floor in her bathroom, the climate, the hour of the day, and the fact that she ever decided to take a shift that starts so blessed early in the morning.

6am to 6pm. Twelve hour days, often longer, depending on which agent of Satan would be dispatching that day.

Time to go save some lives!” Her uniform called out.

Her mind argued back: Save some lives? SAVE SOME LIVES??? Are you KIDDING? More like, Time to go take Grandma to her wound care appointment! Time for yet another dialysis run!

The Uniform wouldn't back down: Put me on. You might not be literally saving a life, but you have the chance to have an impact on people. And that's why you became an EMT. Quit your whining, put on your big girl pants, and go to work.

Kat Keller blinked. “I can't believe I'm having a mental argument with my uniform.”

She surrendered to the uniform's demands.

Black socks.
Thermal undershirt.
Black BDU pants.
White button down shirt.
Black boots.
ID tag.

She looked in the mirror, dark bags hung under her green eyes. Kat quickly applied some makeup, grabbed her sunglasses, and made her way through the house to the back door. Her brown and white Beagle, Echo, met her there, tail wagging, dragging his leash behind him. She bent down to pet him. “I'm sorry, baby, Daddy's going to have to take you for a walk, I'm running late.” The dog was not impressed. “Echo... go get Daddy... Go get him!” Kat patted him on the backside and watched as the dog charged towards the staircase leading to their loft bedroom.

He'll be thanking me for that later I'm sure.

Katrina grabbed her purse and lunch and headed out the door. The brisk cold air took her breath away and her small car offered little solace. She muttered under her breath, rubbing her hands together.

This is ridiculous. I live in the wrong climate altogether.

She started her car and backed out of the long driveway. The ride to the station was only ten minutes, and at this time of the morning the streets were mostly empty. She stopped at the light in front of the Starbucks and stared longingly at the tan building, it's parking lot already half full.

No Coffee this morning, Kat... You took too damn long getting ready.

No sooner than she pulled into the parking lot of the station did her pager start going off.

Call Dispatch ASAP.

“Great.” She said to no one in particular. She grabbed her bags and headed in.

******

“Gooood Morning Sunshine!” The voice seemed to come out of nowhere.

Kat tossed her bags down and tried to summon a smile for her partner. “Sorry I'm late, Matt... It was a long night.”

He emerged from the back of the ambulance. “Not a problem, beautiful. You better call dispatch though, they're looking for you.”

Matt Crawford had been Katrina's partner for the past six months. She found that they complimented each other very well. When she was in a bad mood, he was effortlessly able to cheer her up. When he was irate over some injustice she was able to calm him with a quick look. They got along well. At almost six and a half feet tall, 250 pounds, with the haircut and build of a Marine, he came across as seriously intimidating. Kat knew better. He was a teddy bear until the situation called for the Grizzly in him to come out. She was grateful to be working with him.

Katrina clocked in, four minutes late, and dialed the number to the dispatch office.

“Addams Ambulance – Communications” The voice answered.

“Hey Ben, it's Kat, I'm in.” Kat spit out as she pulled her long red hair up into a ponytail.

“Glad you could grace us with your presence.” He snapped. “I got you on the board.”

The line went dead. He had hung up on her.

Well, he's in a wonderful mood this morning... Kat thought, placing the handset back on the base.

Matt came in from the garage, metal clipboard in hand. “The main O2 needs to be replaced, we need a few cannulas, and fuel. I don't know who worked here yesterday, but they left the truck trashed.”

“Fantastic. What a great start to the morning.”

“Come on Kat... let's go live the dream.” Matt winked at her as he jumped in the passenger's seat.

******

Folks, here it comes. A bit of fiction

I've loved to write for as long as I can remember.

In high school I was the editor of our school paper and for a few issues at least, I wrote 90% of the content. It won some awards, so I guess it's not as bad as I remember.

Unfortunately, those awards were for news writing, as opposed to fiction (which is conveniently what I like to write the most).

I've had some ideas in my head for some time now, and I've decided to finally put them on paper. So to speak.

A post (post number 200 for me!) will be up later today, I hope.

Go easy on me, this is some pretty raw stuff. I haven't taken an English class in over ten years, and I'm sure for the most part it will be very rough and probably fairly poorly written :)

For Sam.... :)

Here's what Sleepy Partner does when Epi is cranky and tired (and he's not too busy napping).


Okay, so he mowed me down with a stryker cot, but at least he makes me laugh. Consistently. When he's awake.

(This is as clear as I can get until I get his model release to show his face clearly online :))

The Sleeping Partner Saga Continues...

Submitted for your approval... A partner... handsome, yes.... Sleepy... DEFINITELY.

Sleeping in the waiting room of a local orthopedic clinic.


Places Sleepy Partner slept today:

Bed in quarters
Passenger seat in Ambulance (three times!)
Chair in Doctor's office waiting room
Chair in Ortho clinic waiting room (see photo above)
Chair in Ortho clinic waiting room (a second time, this time sitting next to a morbidly obese patient... I was waiting for him to curl up next to this gentleman, at which time I would lose my mind in a fit of hysterical laughter.)

This was all, of course, before he mowed me down with the cot, knocking me to the ground where I smoked my head on a door frame. Fun stuff.

Yet another new partner...

We seem to be playing musical partners lately at work while they try to get the new folks settled. For the last several shifts I've had the...pleasure (?) of working with "Sleepy Partner".

Let's take a look at Sleepy Partner.

He has a bachelor's degree in Diatetics, he's very intelligent. He's a good kid, and he's got a remarkable bedside manner, considering the fact that he's a brand new EMT (so new that the ink on his card isn't dry yet). He's funny, and for the most part, the shifts have flown by.

The problem...

Watch out for the sharps container, Grasshopper!

No more comments about my driving. Obviously it's not that bad, as you're SLEEPING... AGAIN.

I understand that a growing boy needs his sleep and all, but jesus this kid can sleep. On the cot in the back of the truck, on the bench seat, in the passenger's seat, in the captains chair, in a bed in the station, on the couch in the station... Thank God he hasn't been released to drive yet.

One more thing...

My blogroll *points over there* has been torn to shreds. If you were there and you're not now, I don't know what happened.

I'm working on it as we speak. Not that anyone was losing sleep over it :)

My thanks...

I've been blogging for a relatively short period of time, since July of last year through this site, a little longer through Myspace.

In that time I've had the honor of coming across some truly spectacular folks out there. Tremendously talented, sometimes making me laugh out loud, sometimes reducing me to tears. Always sharing their stories, their experiences, their talents, their support.

It occurred to me recently that I haven't done much in the way of thanking you folks, the authors of some of my absolute FAVORITE blogs.

Ambulance Driver. The first blog that I read religiously. A hugely talented writer, paramedic, instructor, and father. Make sure you check out his ongoing novel, Star of Life. I think I spent close to three days reading his archives.

Blue Ridge Medic. Brand new Daddy and Medic. One of his posts on Rage and Nursing homes really struck home with me, as well as this one on how an EMS (or medical education in general) can be a curse.

Cranky Prof. I want to be her when I grow up. Seriously. She's a professor of English at a university, Mother to some ridiculously cute kids, wickedly sarcastic and "a wee bit cynical". Had it not been for her Wear a Toga post last week I would have been ill prepared for work.

Crzegrl (Emily). Posts some of the most incredible video blogs I've ever seen. Emily is a flight nurse, has a military background, and is one of the fiercest women I've ever had the honor of knowing. Bonus points for her blog on becoming a flight nurse and the post on ADOBSO, which I suffer from.

David McMahon's Authorblog. My favorite Aussie! I have yet to come across a blog where a professional author and photographer shares his advice, talent, and encouragement so freely. David is an immensely talented author, his first novel, Vegemite Vindaloo was published in 2006 and was on the bestseller lists from July to December. His photography posts have helped me look at everyday objects from a different perspective, and his Posts of the Day highlight talented bloggers (it's an excellent source for finding new blogs to read, like I need more!).

Detail Medic's Life in the Firehouse. Medic, Instructor, Firefighter, Honor Guard member. Kick ass female. Her LODD posts are reminders that particularly in this industry, we need to take care of ourselves and that life is sometimes heartbreakingly short. She rocks her job in a Firehouse surrounded by a bunch of guys.

Meat in the Seat (aka wegotableeder aka MedicMarch). He's baaaaack. Posts like this and this are why I eagerly check my feedreader every day hoping to find a post by him. I can't put my finger on it, but after reading his posts he strikes me as the type of person I'd get along with well, and the type of Medic I'd love to have as a partner.

Sam at Medic 61. (On The Clock) I adore Sam. I don't know what else to say. She has a beautiful way with words, one of my favorite posts by her is Rain. Another is Sweet Baby James, which just makes me glad that she's around to be there for her patients. To do what she can, for the period of time she is with them. You rock, sister!

TS at Other People's Emergencies. He's on hiatus while serving in the military, but the archives are more than worth the read. He's got some great stories from working the streets in Boston as a Medic.

Kyle at That Paramedic Student is a Stress Case.
Who is now a Medic. He doesn't post nearly as much as I wish he would, but life happens. He and I went through school about the same time, he survived, I didn't. But one of my inspirations to get back in the saddle. He's also one of the first "friends" I made when I started blogging.

RevMedic at EMS Haiku.
His combination of funky Haiku, beautiful photography, and EMS posts make him one of my absolute favorites. (I have similiar issues with getting manual BP's in the back of the truck, btw!) Oh, and he lives in some GORGEOUS country!

Rocky Mountain Medic. Another one who I wish posted more. Much like Ambulance Driver, I spent some time going through his archives.... Very talented writer, fiction and non. This post literally took my breath away. Here's parts one and two of a piece of fiction he wrote. Just EXCELLENT stuff.

Peter Canning at Street Watch. Yet another unbelievably talented (and published) writer. This post on the increase in bariatric runs (and use of the bari-cot, the bane of my existence and source of my back pain) is excellent.

Hammer at When your only tool is a hammer. Not only is he one of my top commenters (Thanks dear!) he can consistently make me think, and laugh, and appreciate life in general. His videos are an excellent release when one might be...stressed out, and his political beliefs are right on with mine.

Emergency Emily at Bandaids and Backboards
. Another person who I'd LOVE to go out and have a beer with. Any girl who is as pro gun as I am (even more so, and SO unbelievingly well spoken about it) has got to be cool :) She's recently engaged, a premed student, highly intelligent, and posts about a wide variety of subjects. Btw, this might be one of my faves...

FyremanDoug at "No more runnin'". One of my favorite people. I have a special place in my heart for firefighters, volly or professional, full time, part time... I don't care. This guy's posts on firefighting, music, his family, guns, or just general silliness always entertain me.

And finally...For something completely different...

NannyOgg at Our Deer Baby. Seven kids. SEVEN BEAUTIFUL KIDS! Holy cow I don't know how she does it, but she definitely deserves the Mother of the Year award. It's a feel good blog, I can always count on her to make me smile with pics of the kids, stories of geocaching, and stuff like this.

This is not all inclusive, as there are several other blogs I read daily... These are my MUST READ NOW blogs. They're also the ones I'm more than likely to comment on. Go give them a read.

Thank you, to all of you, for sharing your lives with us. Thank you for sharing your joy, your pain, your strengths, and your weaknesses. I've not met one of you, yet I feel like I know you all. Some of you better than my own real, true life friends.

Epijunky

What bravery looks like. (POTD)

Future Cardiologist at his first dentist appointment of the day.

And at the second.

My son is a wonderful child. He's inquisitive, he's intelligent, he's tenderhearted... I could not possible DREAM of a better child.

Unfortunately for him, he has a mother who tells medical horror stories and assumes he isn't paying attention. As a result he's grown VERY anxious when it comes to medical appointments. Two years ago he got so worked up over a vision appointment that he developed hives and sobbed hysterically when they tried to look at his eyes.

This past weekend he developed a toothache. The toothache turned into a headache, which in turn landed us in a Dentist's chair this morning. (As opposed to an ambulance ride to the ER, but that's another post entirely.) Future Cardiologist is terrified. I PROMISE him that there will be no shots, iv's, or drilling at this appointment. Three things he's not at all comfortable with. He's suspicious, but the Hygienist and Dentist both have an excellent bedside manner.

When a dentist looks at an x-ray and cringes, it does not bode well for the anxious child or for the mother of the anxious child. Just for the record, my child brushes his teeth religiously, and does not consume an abnormal amount of soda or candy. I consider calling a medic friend to see if they can get me some Valium.

The first dentist refers us to the second dentist who specializes in wee little ones.

After a little begging (my child is in PAIN!) I manage to get him into the second Dentist on the same day. It's a busy office, and I'm pleasantly surprised. They also have a mini arcade set up that doesn't require quarters. That's right, folks. Completely free video games. Future Cardiologist is blissful. I'm still considering the Valium. With a Versed chaser.

To make a long post shorter, Future Cardiologist did fantastically :) I am so very proud. Without going into the gory details, he has to have dental surgery at a local hospital I am VERY familiar with. He'll be in excellent hands. We had a little talk on the way home from the second dentist and he started crying.

Me: What's wrong, baby? Why are you crying?
Future Cardiologist: *wailing* I don't want an IV!!!!
Me: Baby, it'll be okay... I promise... You won't even feel it.
FC: What if someone like YOU has to start it???
Me: Honey, they're not going to let me start an IV on you.
FC: *giggling through tears* Good, because you suck at it. Oh, is "suck" a bad word?
Me: Oh for the love of God. What's wrong with you?

He's brave, and smart.

Happy St. Patrick's Day...

Yes, it's from the Muppet Show. Yes, it's funnier if you've been drinking while you watch it. Yes, it's not good form to giggle while watching a performance of "Danny Boy".

My apologies... Seriously, it's the Muppets, and it's all in good fun.



Ireland FOREVER!

Hissy Fit.

Right now I'm as close to throwing a full blown fit as I've been since the age of two or three.

Seriously, I want to throw something.

I'll be back.

I'm a tool :)

Apologies to DM and Sam over my little mix up with the link to the post yesterday.

That's what happens when I post while tired ;)

Go visit Sam (aka Medic 61)

No, seriously, if you haven't visited her Blog over at On The Clock, you must. She's unbelievably talented with her writing and her skills as a medic.

She just put up a post that ripped my heart out. Go check her out.

Today's lesson at work

Don't get stuck with the Bariatric cot (the cot for our...larger folks) for more than one run.

Four bariatric runs later (plus two sore backs, one kick to my abdomen, and an almost broken foot), we managed to almost get rid of that damn cot.

We were literally IN THE DRIVEWAY of the station where we were to drop the cot off.

Dispatch: Unit 700

Me (Rolling my eyes, as it is five minutes before we are to be off the clock and I know that we're about to catch a run): 700, go.

Dispatch: What's your 20? (One's location)

Me: SON OF A BITCH THEY'RE GIVING US A RUN!!!!! (I get on the radio) Unit 700, we're in the driveway of Station X.

Dispatch: Standby

Me: (More cursing under my breath)

Dispatch: You have a run, Code three for the county, 123456 Blah Blah Ave South. Code three for the county. (You're about to take a 911 run a good 12 minutes away if there's no traffic, longer during rush hour. And oh, yeah, throw on those lights and the siren, and haul booty)

Brand Spankin' New Partner: OOOOH, CODE THREE???

Me: DAMMIT! FIVE MINUTES and I would have been safe! (on the radio) "700 is enroute and checking" (We're on our way but looking at the map book as we have no idea where we are or where we're going)

A little sidenote. We had been on the clock for more than 12 hours already (for a 12 hour shift) and we had five patients with a combined weight of just shy of a TON. That's 2,000 pounds folks. It had been a long painful day. We were tired, we were sore, we were ready to go home.

I flip on the lights and the siren and head towards the street the run is on. I figure I know where the street is, I should be able to find the apartment complex.

No such luck. To make a long story short the address and cross streets got garbled between the county and our dispatch office and we never found the address. This is pretty significant... Missing a County run is bad news for the EMT's on that particular truck. We were cancelled more than 20 minutes after the run came in.

I felt like crap. I'm the senior EMT on the truck, I was driving, I should have gotten us there.

Right now I feel a little defeated, definitely exhausted, and ultimately VERY happy that I'm off for the next two days.

If only I could have gotten rid of that damn bariatric cot.

It's those landscaping boxes that will getcha...

Dear Unit #400,

First and foremost I want to thank you for being so good to me over the last two shifts. I know you're not my regular truck, and trucks can very temperamental. You've been good to me. You've accelerated when I've hit the gas, you've braked gently when I've stepped on the pedal. You've handled yourself well on the roads, even when they're a sheet of ice.

And how do I repay you for all of your kindness?

I make you wake up in the middle of the night when it's ten degrees outside, make you drive code three to a call, then unceremoniously almost rip your back drivers side bumper off of you.

I'm so very sorry that I hurt you. I thought I cleared that landscaping box! By the time I realized that not only had I NOT cleared it, but I had also gotten us stuck, it was too late. I hope your bumper is okay and doesn't fall off the next time someone steps down on it.

I filed an incident report, but considering the fact that you're 10k miles over on your oil change I doubt it'll be fixed soon.

Again, my deepest most sincere apologies.

Hugs and kisses and a big old BLS band aid for your ouchie.
Epi

PS... In case you were concerned the Medic did not kill me and the Chest Pain patient was just fine.

Drama Drama...

I have some personal issues going on right now and have to take a few more days to gather myself... I promise to be back with something fascinating to share with ya'll...

Think some good thoughts for me, I really need them.

Epi

Smoke Alarms -- This one scared the hell out of me!

Thank you to Pseudo Dad for sending me this.... It's scary as hell to think that my kids may not wake up to a smoke alarm going off.


My Obituary






QuizGalaxy!

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

There seems to be a few of us out there muttering 'rosebud'.

A Public Service Announcement from Jack Nicholson.

Well... I'm kinda speechless. I'm not sure that creating a video montage of the most evil characters you've played on the silver screen is the best way to lend support to your favorite candidate.

Insane Murdering Maniacs unite for Hillary!!!!


Another New Partner, and one simple question.

Well, my current partner has decided to take a 24 hour shift. And I'm very happy for her. She's easily one of the best Basic's I know, she deserves to move on from a day car.

I only worked with her for a month, but it was the most fun I've ever had at a job. She made the 12 hour shifts fly by, and I've never laughed so hard. (We learned from reading a pamphlet that an Anal Fistula is NOT... I repeat NOT used for dialysis -- It's also not appropriate reading literature while doing a "wait and return")

Anyway, from everything I've heard my new partner is a very capable EMT, and we'll work well together. I've never met her, but I trust the people I've talked to. We'll be fine.

I asked my first "New Partner" (I really need more specific nicknames... I'm referring to the partner who just went to the 24 hour shift) one question.

"Can she lift?"

A simple question, but an important one. It's amazing how vitally important it is (particularly for one's back) to have a partner who can lift a good amount of weight. And lift it properly.

Our patients are getting larger and larger. It's more often than not that we have someone over 300 lbs. I've been both the attendant and on the lift team for folks anywhere up to 870 lbs.

Lifting is important, ya'll.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to take a few ibuprofen and stick a bag of ice on my aching lumbar region.