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Showing posts from October, 2008

I am from

I am from a regular town full of regular people. People satisfied with purely living life. Sometimes I yearn for such simple desires as a two car garage, a dog, a big television. I am not special, yet feel unfulfilled. I’m a wannabe gypsy, a transient who fears the permanence of real life; of matrimony, contracts, escrow. But I have roots. Roots that are deep and don’t want to be exposed. Covered in the dirt of childhood, of old friends, of young and aging family members alike. I cannot just shake them off and plant somewhere new. I fear looking back with disappointment, but it spares my tail from being between my legs again. Still I search for the courage. A matter of closed eyes, trust games, and gambles. I take stock of where I’m from knowing I will inevitably leave again. Though I am inexorably tied to its people, its weather, its street names. But when I leave, I learn that where I’m from is where everyone else is from too.

Pot Post

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Not that kind of pot, silly! Per request, here are some glamor shots of what I've been doing in pottery class the last few weeks.

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Today I took a walk after work. It was a beautiful day, and although I never thought I'd voluntarily take a walk again, I enjoyed it very much. Today for the first time, someone thanked me for saving their life. I'm not convinced I did, but she was feeling better after some adeosine slowed her heart from 190 beats a minute and her symptoms went away. I was glad it worked out because the call didn't start well. First, I got lost on the way there. I'm going to go ahead a blame the lack of rural road planning. At one point I found myself at the junction of Hilltop Road and Hilltop Road. I threw up my hands and the ambulance crew took mercy on me an met me there. Once we found eachother, the compartment doors of my truck wouldn't unlock. I spent several futile seconds attempting to unlock them with my keys, but Iam generally key retardent, so I tried the switch for the 20th time and thankfully it worked. From there, I stepped into the ambulance, hoping that I hadn't

Arrests

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Apologies for the lack of updates. No time to update, nothing to update, no internet at work, catching up on episodes of 30 Rock...one of these excuses should do. I have had some good calls recently. Including the suicide and the ROSC , I have had four tubes in as many weeks which is very exciting for me. The whole time I was at my first job I had one opportunity for a tube and managed to mess it up. That is the only problem with an all ALS system, skills are spread over so many people that often a great number don't get any at all. There is something to be said for suburban EMS. I had an arrest two weeks ago, and we abided by the rule of 'if we have to think about whether or not we should attempt resuscitation, we probably should do it'. He really was too far gone, but we got him intubated , cannulated , and gave him some drugs. When that didn't work we called med command for permission to stop. This was the first time I successfully used a Miller type blade. It wo

ROSC

With the exception of getting lost in a cavernous apartment building, the call couldn't have gone better. It came out as chest pain, and rapidly declined to cardiac arrest. There were no signs pointing us toward the correct apartment and we were left wandering around briefly cursing and looking generally confused in a creepy apartment building. We finally found the patient sitting on a chair looking not so great (and by great, I mean alive). We lifted her to the floor and I put her on the monitor, VF! (a deadly, yet treatable rhythm) We ended up shocking her six times. My partner gave her a host of drugs as I intubated her and when I looked up at the monitor again she was in a 3rd degree block (a very dangerous, yet treatable rhythm) I immediately fiddled with some buttons on the monitor and began to pace her. (giving her heart a little electrical encouragement) and she had a pulse! And a blood pressure! We had an interesting trip out of the ridiculous building as the cot

Litter

I was walking to the store and passed by a line of cars waiting at a stop sign. As I passed, a back seat passenger rolled down his window, stuck his arm out and dropped some trash on the ground. Shocked, I stared open mouthed at him as my timid mind considered what to do. Impulsively, I turned on my heel and headed straight for him. I stopped for a second at the door staring into the car of teenagers. “I’ve got it.” I said angrily as I bent down and picked up the offending litter, and I walked off. “I’ve got it?!” that was my hard-hitting retort to this idiots selfish act. Freaking typical. Far better things ran through my mind as I walked away, almost prompting me to jog back to the car and go into an insane tirade about how dumb, spoiled emo kids are what’s really wrong with this world. Of course, I wouldn’t have taken the trash, I would have thrown it in his face, and informed him that he was in serious need of a haircut. At the very least I could have added “you jackass!”

Inescapable reality

There was a medevac crash in Maryland last week. Four people were killed including the medic and the pilot. Miraculously, one patient survived and is expected to recover. This is the first medevac accident involving the state trooper system in Maryland since 1986. I don’t really know what to say about it. Helicopters crash. It is the number one cause of EMS personnel death. But not here. I immediately, selfishly, thought it was some other service. I was wrong. I have spoken to several of my old classmates about it. The trooper system holds a special place for us as we all rode with them for clinicals. We are left feeling vulnerable, shaken, scared. They were untouchable. We are left incredulous, full of questions. How could this happen anyway? All supplied explanations seem doubtful to me. It is a frightening reminder, and we inherently don’t like to be reminded of our own mortality. My thoughts and prayers go to the victims and their families. I hope that their deaths

Little interactions

The grumbling diesel engine of our ambulance brought us to a stop at the light. On the corner there was a little boy waiting to cross, holding his mothers hand. I could see him staring at us. I looked over and with his free hand, he waved tentatively. I smiled and waved back at him. Leaning over, I touched a button and lit up the ambulance like a Christmas tree. It was nothing compared to his grinning face. I had never been so proud as the light turned green and we pulled away.