A Work in Progress

Legal Matters

2012-01-25T20:54:00.002-05:00

Today I gave my first deposition. It was quite an adventure. It's not a suit I'm named in, but my report does hold some seemingly important information. Therefore, lawyers on both sides felt it necessary to hear every detail of my educational past and career path. Then they had a whole host of inane questions like why we had two providers on a call? What's the difference between a paramedic and an EMT? Why did I use the glascow coma scale? When did I first learn about this particular condition? 'The exact date?' I ask. 'Yes.' they answer as if it were completely reasonable to remember every detail of college. 'Oh, that? Let me see. That was September 21st 2004 at about 815 in the morning.'

I feel like it is a good thing that this call happened over four years ago and I can't remember it at all. This way, I am 100% reliant on my documentation, which although a scary prospect, this scenario is easier than remembering something inaccurately. That, and I got to say 'I don't remember' to an awful lot of questions. Also, annoyingly I got to repeat myself several times, especially on the matter of if I remembered the call, who wrote the narrative, and was it fill in the blank or free-writing. For the love of God, man, I told you already.

After a painstaking battle of semantics with the lawyers, I got to leave. I mean, he phrased questions in the most idiotic manner. I wanted several times to ask him what he was actually getting at, as that would make his weird questions more understandable. He wanted to know silly things like where I responded from (anywhere really), why two providers went on the call (as was our custom) or why my partner had applied the EKG monitor. I felt really good being able to answer 'Because we're a team.' True answer.

I was left with one burning question. How do those court room recorder things work? She was typing away like a crazy person and I peeked at the thing and some paper was coming out of it with an absolute alien language printed on it. It was very intriguing. I only broke the 'don't answer unless he's finished asking the qustion' rule once. But honestly, when it takes you 10 minutes to blurt out a question, pausing every few words because you are re-clarifying something, it gets hard to tell when the question is over. To be fair, I'm not sure he knew when the question started and stopped. He was definitly in the weeds of his run on sentences a couple of times. 'I'm sorry, what was the question, exactly?' 'Strike that.' And he started again!

I was also left with a lesson in documentation. Well, my four year ago self was anyway. I think I am much better now and far more detail oriented. For example, in this case, it would have been good to write how we got the patient from the house to the ambulance. I try now to list 'stood and pivoted to stair chair and secured. Taken outside down x stairs to cot. Pt. stood and pivoted to cot and secured. Cot placed in ambulance and secured.' It's annoying, but handy. Secondly, I think I still put rather vague things in my physical assessment. Or maybe they're vague only to daft lawyers. For example, he didn’t like my ‘moves all extremities.’ How did I know the patient moved all extremities? I had also written what became a confusing sentence full of too many commas. For example: 'pt. had no facial droop, difficulty speaking, pupils equal and reactive. (or some such)' So, did they have difficulty speaking or not? I don’t really know, but I decided on no, as when I have a patient with difficulty speaking, I am a little more specific as to what that means.

I don't know if this case will be over or if I will get to progress to the official courtroom silliness. I guess it depends on what all the lawyers think. Either way, I've found it a learning experience. Most imporantly, that it's probably not the adrenaline pumping calls with explosions and amputations and working heart attacks that come up four years later. It may well be the patient with vague, low budget boring symptoms that comes back to haunt you.

Yes, 2.

2012-01-24T17:50:00.002-05:00

I want a dog. That's why I adopted two cats. Not that they would ease me into dog ownership. I have come to terms that I can't have a dog while I am still doing this 24 hour shift thing. I know that dog walkers and kennels exist and all that, but those things add an expense to the whole thing and includes giving a complete stranger a key to my house. I digress. I've wanted a cat and just before Christmas I made the biggest mistake someone who 'wants a cat' could make. I went to the pound. It was absolutely busting with elegible cats and the more I looked the more compelled I was to own one. I was Vascilating between the two of these cats. I was unduly infulenced by the volunteer who wanted me to adopt this one cat so badly she could taste it. 'That one's nice, but look at this one! She's such a sad case. She's been here for months too. And she's kind of ugly. And kind of old. But look how sweet she is! Here, sit down. I'll put her on your lap. Oh, she's such a good cat. She really deserves a good 'forever home.' This woman was practically getting teary about my lack of interest in this cat. I'm surprised she didn't tell me it was getting put down the next day. Nay, next hour if I didn't reserve her immediately. But I did anyway. Adopted two. Her peer pressuring aside, I do go to work for a long time and I wouldn't want the cat to get lonely. And two really is the cut-off between normal single person and crazy cat lady. I still don't have a dog, but maybe one day.

Seriously?

2012-01-06T19:47:00.002-05:00

Are you telling me that it is January 6th and I haven't written a post since sometime in December? Is my life so sad that I cannot even bore you with the mundane things that have taken place in the last monthish? Yeah, probably.
I've uh, gone to the store, and driven to work, and ran some calls, and took a nap and that about sums it up.

Okay, it's not all that bad. I do worry that I have come to a point in my prehospital career, where I don't need to write every call down. Well, that's already happened, but very few get blogged. That, I guess, is obvious this year by how few calls are noted here. That and an increasing worry about privacy violations. It only seems natural that I don't share every call anymore. Not that I ever really did, but honestly, there is only so much to be said about shortness of breath and chest pain. The market can only bear so many recountings of car accidents.

Or maybe I have just lost my mojo. I don't know, but I felt that maybe an explaination was required for the lack of EMS posts. I am rambling. I tend to recognize this, and then continue anyway. I love this job, and amusing and great things happen every day. Sometimes, they happen to me, more often, they don't. I'm going to continue to collect stories and attempt to do them justice here on this very blog. I just can't keep up with other EMS bloggers who always seem to have something interesting to say. I am currently undecided as to where to put this post, I really mean whether I should lie about when I wrote it. But, I have to write my year's end post, so I will lie about that one instead.
Sorry this had no point.

New Year

2011-12-31T19:49:00.000-05:00

I went on almost 300 calls this year. It seems like a lot, until you compare that to the number of hours I've worked. Far more than 40 a week, I can tell you that. But that is beside the point, whatever that was. Another year gone, as they say. It's been a good one. I spent a lot of money! Well, I guess, more accurately, I borrowed a lot of money. So I owe a lot of money. So I'll stop thinking about that because it makes me anxious. In addition to the house I bought a fancy bike and recently two cats. Yes, 2 cats, but more on that earlier. Or later. Depends on how much changing of the dates I decide on.

So I ran calls and bought stuff. What a year!

Lets do the year in review based on the post written on 30 Dec 2010. The photography WAP is still up and running. I booked a show for September, and if I ever get it together, will sort out the 'spring season.' The craft show circuit is amusing, but hard work.
I did do more domestic travel. I should hit some places I've never been before, but you can't go wrong with the northeast kingdom and wherever your friends live. I'm planning more domestic travel this year and even next, so we'll see how that goes. Get ready, America!

Do local events: Fail!

Read the Bible: Fail!

Be a 'better communicator': Fail! Well, it is hard!

Time will always be made for the things that are important to us. Unfortunately, the things that I make time for as of late are playing video games and eating crap food. Success! I really should have written this post when I was feeling a little more optimistic. Okay, so get it together! I will still go to work and leisurely search for an EM job, take naps, and write blog posts. (and play video games and eat crap food if I'm honest)

I really want to write more. Last year I took up an hour a day project, writing for, oddly, an hour a day. I didn't do too badly. I did the actual hour (usually more) for a few months, now the hours are a little more sporatic ad I kind of ran out of things to write about. But, of all the fake careers I can develop at home: if you want to write, write. There it is. Other, non-goals include: go on a bad first date, buy less stuff, and never talk to anyone called 'siri'.

Ellie's guide to Online Dating Pt. 2

2011-12-07T20:11:00.000-05:00

I have renewed my efforts in online dating as of late. I've joined a free site that a friend recommended and I like it so far mostly because it is free, but also because it really seems like they are putting an effort into matching you with acceptable people.

This recent foray has led me to create part 2 of my guide to online dating. I feel that many profile makers need a coach or a guide to follow to increase their chance of success. Despite my wild non-success, I still feel I can dole out some advice. I feel that in my absence from online dating, the weirdness has gotten worse. Now, I know you should be yourself and all that and not put up a false front, but sometimes we just need to do a better job at hiding our crazy. Everyone does it. It's quite a phenomena that we all walk around making vain attempts to look normal. We are not. No one is. That being said, women want normal guys, (as far as I know) and the more crazy you reveal in your profile, the less success you will have. Give it in small doses over a lifetime of marriage instead.
Profile:

please, for the love of God, message me in plain English. Not txt or 'abreevs' as this does not show me that you are a functioning member of society. It shows you are too lazy to use vowels. Stop it.
youtube should not be among the things you can't live without.
if you mention a woman's personal hygiene several times in your profile it is off-putting and makes you look crazy which you probably are.
online dating is not an appropriate forum to spread you religious or strange diet-based beliefs. Ease up.
put more Myers-Briggs personality test results. It reminds me of college.
don't put 'xxx' anywhere in your username. Honestly.
I know it feels silly to answer open-ended questions about yourself, but take at least one seriously.
amusing and clever lists of likes and dislikes are nice, and amusing. And clever.

Picture:

do not post pictures of yourself taken via webcam
on the same token, do not post pictures of yourself taken with your phone while in your bathroom.

these pictures right off the bat say to me that you don't own a camera, nor do you have any friends, nor do you do anything other than sit at your computer or go to the bathroom.
no lighting around a computer is good.
I do not want to see your bathroom
Unless your bathroom is in a palace of some sort, it is probably not the background that you want to be seen in before I even meet you.

can you see it framed in your home later? "Oh honey, there's the first picture I ever saw of you. Don't your tattoos look nice? That shower curtain really won me over."

Just get someone to take your picture.
one caveat: if the picture is just of your abs, that's okay.

do not post posed 'olan mills' type pictures. Seriously, this is creepy. You might as well take one with you mom next to you. Oh wait. You did.
comb your hair. I saw one picture of a guy and his hair was literally covering his entire face. I don't want to date your hair, I want to date your face. If you are that hideous, I suggest lying.
avoid pictures of yourself photoshopped onto interesting backgrounds. You are not fooling anyone.
also, avoid any of the following picture situations: at comic con, doing cos-play, holding your pet chinchilla, with your car, posing with fantasy weapons, cuddling a stuffed animal.
while we're on the subject, just avoid silly hats and pictures taken in bars.
what's that? A picture of you with a kitten? aww, I'll allow it.

Getting Out There

2011-12-06T10:58:00.001-05:00

I have a tendency to be a reclusive hermit. It is far worse in winter months as I will take any excuse now to stay in and sit by the woodstove. It's too cold, too cloudy, too rainy, or too dry to go out today. So I will sit and watch The Incredibles and all of the bonus features until it's dinner time. Then I tend to throw some half assed dinner-esque meal together. Bits of leftovers, progresso soup, cheese and crackers, or cereal. Yes, because I'm in college.
This behavior will not win me friends, health, enlightenment, or boyfriends. So, something must be done. I've decided by the new year (instead of those post new year actions that are never fruitful), I'll be joining the local arts council, a photography club and take a class with the local theatre. All of which should produce social interatction and/or amusing situations. The photo club will help me to stop missing deadlines for local shows and give me some fancy tips. Apparently one member shoots for the White House.
The arts council membership is possibly pointless, but at least I will feel a little cultured and will donate 25 bucks to local arts happenings.
The class is an improv class. Random, yes, but it ~~can~~ could be fun. My plan is to get drunk before every class (as it's in walking distance) and I think then I'll be a lot better. Or a lot worse. Time will tell. I am scared of it, in fact, I had a dream that they made us perform without any instruction the other night. But as Eleanor Roosevelt said, "Do one thing every day that scares you." That is probably extreme, so this Eleanor will say "Do something every once in a while that scares you." This keeps life interesting and challenging.
The thought of standing with some strangers on a stage trying to think of something funny to say sounds absolutely terrifying. So, game on! More on that in February.
If none of that works in the boyfriend department, at least I will have something to do. And, I am always up for more adventures in online dating, and just about to write Ellie's guide to online dating, part 2. Check out part 1 here.

School Bus

2011-11-22T16:04:00.001-05:00

Imagine yourself driving. School's back in session and you get stuck behind a bus on the way home from work. What joy. Suddenly, the school bus indicates to the right, pulls over, puts on their yellow lights and stops. Oh, thank goodness, you might say to yourself, thankful for a conscientious bus driver letting you pass. A couple of blocks away, a cop appears behind you. You duly pull over, but it turns out, he's after you. Yes, this is how my morning started. The cop, I think, never intended to give me a ticket, but wasted 15 minutes of my time anyway. 'Why did it pull over?' I asked. 'Well, to get closer to the kids.' he replied. Oh, yes. That makes sense. It was seriously one of the most stupid situations I've been in. I refrained from any eye rolls and then I did speed after the bus and tried to run over some more kids.

800

2011-11-21T17:49:00.000-05:00

Welcome to the 800th post! Yes, I can feel the excitement. '800 posts?!' You are marveling to yourself 'How time flies!' Just think of all the strange and interesting and nerdy tidbits about my life you've been privy to. And you can relive the magic of 800 posts simply by scrolling to the end of this page and clicking 'older posts' about 90 times. Please do, in fact. Especially if you want to publish 'A Work in Progress' the movie. I'm open to suggestion.

Ah, but now to the point. Well, to be fair, I don't have one. Oh yes, I was going to explain to the none of you out there who found yourselves wondering 'What ever happened to that car project Ellie was alluding to a few weeks ago?' Well, it is an interesting story so you sit right down and prepare yourself for a tale of woe and heartbreak.
I have lusted after a classic Mini Cooper for many a year now. Constantly trolling on ebay and minimania for that perfect, cheapish, and not in terrible shape Mini of the past. I came close a few times to buying one and by 'I came close' I mean that I really thought about it, looked at plane ticket prices, maps, and how much mini parts are and then promptly decided against bidding or forgot and the auction was over.
Perhaps one day the Mini gods would smile upon me. And then, out of nowhere, they did. While driving with some friends, I saw it. Like a tiny beacon calling to me. 1984, red, shoulder belts, head rests, right hand drive, bonnet stripes, low mileage, manual, and most importantly: running. Perfect. And so was the price. So, it needed a clutch, a small price to pay.
I vacillated for about a week and tried to be adult about such a decision. In the end, decided that I could justify owning it in a completely practical way. I called the guy on a Friday to tell him that the Mini would be mine. High fives all around.
On Saturday it snowed. It was a very freak snow in October and it was wacky but tolerable. I thought of poor old mini out of a garage for the first time in 10 years an having it's first snow. Aww.
On Monday morning I called the guy to work out some deets. Things took a strange turn when he said that the mini had been hit by a snow plow. Seriously, at that exact moment I lost the call. He called back in a few minutes and I said 'Oh good, I thought I was going crazy and we entered a parallel universe where you told me that my mini was hit by a snow plow. That was weird!' It was then that he informed me that it had in fact been plowed. Literally. And not just any plow, a state owned enormous giant terrible plow. And you can imagine what that might do to a defenseless mini cooper.
And with that, the mini dream is back on and in case you were wondering, there's nothing on ebay right now.

That is not what I intended for the 800th post, but there it is. Here, have a tissue. Other than that I broke my not getting sick rule, started a lot of fires in my house, and really enjoyed watching Contagion. But more on that later.

Here's to 800 more.

p.s. I just had to publish 2 drafted posts so as not make a liar out of me with this '800th post' A cookie to anyone who finds them.

Refreshed

2011-11-17T17:24:00.001-05:00

Finally I can write a boring post without being the cause. I have been in refresher class all this week, thus, nothing exciting to write about whatsoever. The End. Of course not. Like many of our instructors and fellow paramedics, I like to hear myself talk, so here's some more for you. This class is boring. And I worry about how boring it is. It should be introducing me to new innovations in our field and the medical community as a whole. New research, tools, tricks, etc. It should not be a rehash of the most mundane aspects of our job. I am assuming they're following the DOT recommendations, but seriously? I was hoping that this wouldn't feel like a waste of time.
But, having missed a year of con-ed, this class is certainly a necessary boredom for me. I also wish that we could go ahead and do the extra stuff so I can bridge from being a paramedic to being a paramedic for national registry purposes. Yes, if you haven't heard of this, Registry is revamping their certs, dropping the Intermediate and giving paramedics the post-nominals of 'NRP.' This all has to occur by around 2017. The bridge class will include stuff we already do like CO2 monitoring, and things we still won't do like foley's.

Some not very useful information can be found here. Most importantly, the rocker will be replaced on the patch. Whew! That was a crazy couple of years. The only problem is that it says 'Nationally Certified' (in their computer rendering, at least) and certified is a word that doesn't sit well with me. Ah, things outside of my control!

So I will be refreshed as of tomorrow and ready to hit the streets for a solid 72 hours next week. Woot!

Pearls of Wisdom

2011-11-10T12:21:00.000-05:00

A lot of my friends are having babies this year. As a friend and non-mom, I have little advice to give them. Or anyone for that matter, regardless of their situation. But over the years, thanks to work, I have developed a few blanket statements that are applicable to everyday life.
For example when it comes to drinking. Don't drink and drive, drink and hunt, or drink and ride a bike.
Always wear a helmet. Perhaps literally always, because life is unpredictable.
Don't sleep with your infant in your bed. Period.
Be exceedingly careful if your morning routine is changed. Especially when it comes to who is dropping the baby off at daycare. Just trust me on this one.
When you mow your lawn, lock the kids in the house. Or, the neighbors house. Or, a house in the next town over.
Take your medication. But not too much of it.
Just quit smoking.
Just stop speeding.
On that subject, don't drive and talk on the phone, text, or eat a pie. It only takes a second.
Don't climb tall trees without thinking it through. Or, stand on roofs, or stand on ladders while using saws.
Pay attention when a loved one is in the hospital. Be their advocate. Educate yourself and check up on their treatment. Medical people hate this, so do funeral directors.

I'm sure there are more, but I can't think of them. If you take this job too seriously, you'll go crazy. But these, these you can rely on.

Reunion

2011-11-06T21:34:00.002-05:00

I think it may be safe to say that a class reunion is one of the more strange social situations one can encounter. It is an evening full of seeing people who look vaguely familiar and, in my case, completely blanking on their name. I really should have reviewed the yearbook before I came. But instead, I went with my closest friend from high school and we relied on eachother to ID people. And a number of the people we came up empty on. I guess that's typical after ten years and hundreds of classmates. But you can't help feeling like a jerk when someone shouts "OMG, Ellie, how are you?!" after you spent five whole minutes sitting in the corner trying to remember their name.

The whole thing brought me back and I should have panicked about what to wear far sooner than I did. As I went to my fallback stores and found nothing, I began to realize that I am as in touch with fashion and trends now as I was ten years ago. I felt just as lost choosing what to wear to every event that took place back in the day. I was saved when, I found a dress for $14 and everything worked out okay. I was not over or under dressed and now I have something to wear to any future job interviews (if there ever are any).

That was another realization. If I ever did get a job in an office type setting, where I have to go to work like, five times a week (?!) I will have a total shopping breakdown. Way back in the day I ranted about shopping here. Let's just say it is one of my least favorite activities ever. But I digress.

The reunion was a lot of fun. It was cool to actually get to see people instead of catching up in the weird facebook way. Facebook has added another dimension of oddness to the whole thing. I knew peoples significant others because I had seen pictures of them online. I knew all the answers to the typical reunionesque questions thanks to facebook stalking. Someone told me that they read my blog, which is fantastic (by the way) but there is technology nearly eliminating the need to actually catch up. I'm proud of our class, and though I am not the first person in history to realize how weird it is to see people I've known since first grade grown up, parents, homeowners, and contributing members of society, that does not make it any less weird.

Back on the Wagon

2011-10-30T10:29:00.000-04:00

Having house guests had the desired effect on me. We ate plenty of meals at regular intervals, rearranged the living room (for the better) and hung out like normal humans. My fridge was stocked and I bought a new chair. I learned I can deal with a dog, but that whole 24 hour job thing still gets in the way.
In addition, they brought their bikes here and we had to justify that. I've been biking more in the last month than I have in the last three and it feels good and bad to be back on that track. I am reminded that the bike was expensive and I have to take it out to justify it. I was also reminded that if you stop exercise, it doesn't take long to feel like an out of shape lazy-ass. Inspired by my house guests' fitness, I have started back at the gym, which I immediately regretted when I climbed stairs the next day. But, fear not! Especially if it keeps snowing and unseasonable amount, I will have no reason to avoid it. The biking has been great and with only a few trips I feel slightly more in shape.

These house guests and I were proper roommates back in the day and it was truly wonderful to have them around me again. They give excellent advice and I value their opinions. They'll be moving pretty far away next year but I have already resolved to follow them around the country/world for the rest of time. And, you know me, any excuse will do for travelling purposes. This will solidify that my next adventure will be domestic which is what I had meant to accomplish all this year.

In other news, I will be spending some of my travel money on a 'new' 'commuter car.' The details on that are in short supply, but rest assured they will come.

Now, I anticipate a bit of sadness as I bid my house guests good-bye. Another reason to have house guests is to keep you sane. I realize that the longer I stay single, the less eligible I become to maintain a relationship. Mostly because living alone makes you a bit crazy and set in your ways. Now, I only had a couple of 'Misery' type moments of shouting "The penguin always faces due south!!" in these last few weeks, but the whole thing has served as a reminder that I need to be flexible and accommodating and maybe turn on the heat every once in a while. And maybe, maybe, turn on the porch light. Though I doubt it. I mean, my frugality knows no bounds, and seriously outweighs my welcoming nature.

The Note

2011-10-29T09:16:00.000-04:00

It is simple and concise.
Far from elegant
thoughtful yet chaotic,
typed and careful.
Paragraphs and lists.
These are the reasons,
the pains and unmet needs.
The counting of the blessings.
Thankful for the good times,
it reassures and probably,
assumes too much.
This whole life in a few lines.
Are these words enough,
this simple correspondence.
Enough for forgiveness,
for understanding.
Is it long enough
to heal a broken heart.
Is it desperate enough
to make it okay,
to pull the trigger.

Home: One year on

2011-10-14T13:51:00.000-04:00

I've been back a year today. It feels somehow like a far longer time has passed. A lot has happened, unhappened, and rehappened. It's almost as though nothing has changed, though everything has. And now I am out of 'life changes, deal with it' type statements.
It's been a great year! And strange, but I am beginning to feel that strange is the new normal. I haven't done anything with my degree from last year except to hang it on the wall. I only yesterday applied for an internship that I am probably not qualified for.
But who cares? I still love my job and the people I work with. The commute is getting annoying and the pay stagnet, but at the end of the day, it's employment. And that alone is saying something. I would like to avoid lateral career moves, but something closer to home might be nice.
The photo selling wild ass plan is...um, going, and will probably be on hiatus until the spring. After two shows I'm not giving up, though I could have enough Christmas presents to last me a good long time if I don't sell anymore.
I guess I just wanted to blog for the occasion, as I'll forget in coming years. Getting back to England, if only for a visit, is always on my back burner. I can't help it-I really love it there. But I love it here too. I think I will continue with my domestic traveling for a while and continue to save until I can do a proper trip. I intended upon my return to spend more time with friends and family, which has gone okay. Time is difficult to find, both on my end and on theirs. But, time will always be made for what is important.
I also wanted to do more local activities, and in that I have had a total fail. I really need to join a club or something to get out there. I live blocks from downtown, I really have no excuse.
So, on to the next year, and fulfilling maslows hierarchy of needs!

D2B

2011-10-03T22:51:00.002-04:00

A few weeks ago we went on a chest pain call. Chest pain is really our bread and butter, and most of the time it's people who have stable angina that just didn't go away. Every once in a while, we get the good old STEMI, which is our decisive way to 'diagnose' a heart attack in the field. These patients, like this one, stand out from typical chest pain calls. They are often writhing around, unable to get comfortable, sweating like crazy, pale, and of course, have crushing chest pain. This patient was pretty classic. And as soon as I saw that it is not all dramatics, we headed straight to the nearest interventional cath lab.
I love these kinds of calls. They are the times that I feel like we're doing what we're meant to do. I sent the EKG tracing ahead of us so that they could assemble the cath team. I love when they take us seriously. 'The cardiologist loved your EKG.' one of the doctors told me when we arrived.
So, we got the patient in and left and I finished the story in my head like usual. But this week, I heard back, that the patients 'door to balloon' time was 33 minutes. That's the time we arrived at the ER to the time the patent's heart attack was definitively treated. Within 33 minutes, heart tissue stopped dying.
I won't be too dramatic, but I was pretty happy to hear that.

Promises, Promises

2011-09-27T08:49:00.000-04:00

Well, I didn't exactly promise to write more. I didn't even take the advice of the beer cap! I've been in a bit of a rut, in writing and pretty much everything else. I wish that I had a good excuse for it, but I really don't. Believe me, I've tried really hard to blame something other than myself.
I kind of feel like I need a little inspiration. Luckily, I have found several sources.
Firstly, last week three of my girlfriends had babies. I was honored to be in the room with one of them to take pictures and it was truly the most amazing thing I have ever seen. I have never been more proud of her. And, who doesn't love babies?! Crazy people, that's who.
It was also great to leave her room, and slide right across the hall to visit my other friend. Their babies were born 12 hours apart. I hope they stagger the birthday parties! It is inspiring to see friends build their family. Nothing was more surreal than checking in on them the next day to see her cradling her beautiful baby. I guess it's more surreal because I've known her since high school, and it is strange to admit that we are growing up.

Secondly, my photo selling wild-ass plan is soon to be self actualized. Well, that may be stretching it. But I do have my first show this weekend. This weekend! Holy crap. I think I'm ready, but I have yet to do a dry run of setting up the tent and such, as it's been raining pretty much constantly for a month. Well, that may be stretching it. But it has been hard to find a dry couple of hours to put it all up. Head on over to thesamesunphotography.blogspot.com to learn the deets of the, how you say? show.

Lastly, I am stoked to have houseguests for the next month. My NH roomies are coming down to stay because they are awesome. Well, mostly because he's in med school and has an internship, and she just loves Maryland (I'm told). Either way, I am very excited to actually have guests in the guest room. I should probably practice having other people around (i.e. shutting the bathoom door all the way) but I'm just going to do it on the day. Haha, now that they've read that, I'm sure they're really excited to be here. They'll inspire me because they know how to work an oven, might want to eat meals at regular intervals, may want to play tennis, and have strong work ethics.
So, I will take these sources of inspiration and attempt to put them to good use. I need to get out more, use that gym membership, and be more focused on details and getting things done. Although, in a fit of stupidity/bidding on ebay and thinking I wouldn't win, I bought a new xbox. This, I'm sure will help me to make good use of my time. Or, maybe reduce my road rage.

Alcohol Preps

2011-09-08T21:59:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago, a new colleague of mine and I went on a motorcycle accident. When we arrived, the patient was being held down by about six firefighters and police officers while he struggled and shouted and was generally barely under control. They might have let him up if he hadn't cracked his helmet, been bleeding profusely from his head, and wouldn't believe that he was in an accident despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary. My boss came to back us up and was immediately on the phone getting command orders for some sedation. (Yes, don't make fun of our silly state that has to ask for stuff. It happens). And, sadly, we got a (relatively) useless order for 1mg of IM ativan. My partner drew it up, handed it to me, and then as I leaned over to jab it into the patients arm, my partner pushed an alcohol prep in my face.My first reaction was, "Um, what the heck is that?!" as I continued to push the med while my boss was kneeling on the patients arm while trying to get him to stop shouting at us like a maniac. The rest of the story...doesn't really matter. He was eventually tubed, taken to a trauma center and all that good stuff. The thing that I remember about this call, other than artfully dodging flinging blood, is the use of alcohol preps. My new medic partner wanted to prep for the IM, double prep for IV starts, and meticulously wipe Y ports before we pushed drugs. And for some reason, it annoyed me.
On the way back from the call, I apologized to the noob for dismissing his alcohol prep when he handed it to me for the IM injection. It reminded me of me. Way back in the day my preceptor berated me for using two preps to start an IV. "If they need an IV, they need an IV." he said. Despite very dirty arms. He was probably wrong. I was probably wrong by feeling exasperated by the newbies desire to have a clean field for an IM injection. It wasn't wrong. It was impractical. Or was it impractical?
I worry that this post will now deteriorate rather quickly to a pointless monologue about how to balance the classroom and the real world. It is often a dichotomy of what is taught and what is practical, and really, a lot of rules are bent in EMS. Mostly because of the environment in which we work. Like, your house, or the street, or in the woods. But you already know that. Since I have almost zero readers, a hope of some discussion is probably out. So I will bore you with some clarification.
Should we take the time to use two preps on a dirty person who needs and IV? Should we wipe the Y port every time we administer a med? Should we prep the skin on a head injured altered person to give sedation IM? Really? Yes. Practically? I don't know.

New Stuff

2011-09-06T23:31:00.000-04:00

Woah, Blogger. Slow your roll. I guess if you're not a blogger user, you don't know all of the wacky newness of their website, but it is confusing me at the moment. A new post was requested. So, here it is. The end.I can't leave you hanging like that! Well, there's not much to report really. Let me think. Is it scary that I have worked quite a bit in the last few days, and yet can remember almost none of my experiences? It's not even that they weren't memorable. I do remember one and I am working on a classic bit of depressing resqellie poem to dedicate to it. I just can't write happy poetry.I have been slacking on the writing, both blogging and non blogging and I hope to fix that. I wonder how many blogposts exist on the interweb that say "I will write more." and then six months or five years later there is another post that says "Wow, I didn't follow through there!" Yeah, I'd like to avoid that. I have just been distracted. Or distractable. I had started a project in May to write an hour a day, and it's been sporatic at best the last month. Like going to the gym,I can talk myself out of the writing, think I'll do it later, or justnot bother. How sad. I could benefit both from going to the gym and writing more. I even got a magic hat beer bottle cap the other day that advised 'You should write more.' Advice from beer? I can think of few more reliable sources.
This weekend I am heading to the wilderness medicine conference I went to two years ago. Horray for a conference that involves camping, lectures on trench foot, a pig roast, and starting fires with sticks.Full report to follow. Maybe even a pic of my non-fire starting. Until then, I, will have to tolerate 28 more hours of work and maybe six more inches of rain here in the mid-atlantic. Hopefully I won't be setting up my tent in a swamp on the weekend.

Other than that I saw a space shuttle, ate tofu, and showed off my truck.

Years of academy training, wasted!

2011-08-24T11:09:00.003-04:00

Yesterday I was able to cross something new off of my list of things to do: survive an earthquake. Of course, I thought I might be somewhere more exotic than the Mid-Atlantic to fulfil this one, but I'll take it.
To be fair, it is only amusing and exciting in hindsight. In real time, I felt, and I don't admit this often, but, scared. I hated the feelings the experience gave me. And I've come up with several reasons why. But I guess I should begin with the story.
Several things happened at once. I was in our local mall for the first time in literal years, so I entered it like a foreigner, interested to see what had changed. Secondly, I was surprised, with no offense to her, (because I certainly didn't know where we were going) that my mom immediatly escorted us to the exact place we meant to be without any fuss. Marveling at the mall and our swift arrival with the neice and nephews in tow, the third strange thing happened, in that the floor began to shake.
It is wonderous where the mind goes at such times, as the jingling of the jewelry department and the low grumble all around us increased. My nephew (9) suggested a sumo wrestler had gotten mad. My mind, though, sadly went to far more likely scenarios, and more sadly, earthquake was not among my top three. Until earthquake was suggested, it was all down to bombs and terrorism to me. In the 15-30 seconds it took to stop, a myriad of things crossed my mind; exits, whether we should exit, what exactly was going on, and how to protect my family.

One thing I really didn't like, is how out of control I felt about the whole thing. I hated that I didn't know what to do and that I looked to the other equally useless members of the public to cue me into how to react to our siuation. But everyone around us looked equally dumbfounded and confused. All of my knowledge was buried under a pile of temporary panic, and after a few tentative minutes of consideration, we continued on as usual, as if we lived in LA and this kind of thing happened all the time. This whole 'not knowing what to do' thing really bothers me on a personal level as I am an emergency planner, the paramedic, the problem solver. I bring order to chaos (on a finite scale) all the time, and yesterday, I really wasn't sure where to turn. I wasn't sure what to do when my most beloved people in the world were at risk.

Within the next ten minutes, the information came trickling in, 5.8, northern Virgina, and if people felt it while on the highway (they didn't.) Once it was confirmed as an earthquake, we were like, 'okay', made our purchase and went straight home. We managed not to panic the kiddos either. They thought it was cool right away, and were still hoping to glimpse the sumo wrestler. It wasn't until we left that we realized our phones weren't working properly and that maybe something serious could have happened.

It wasn't until I was on my way to work today, that I thought back to when I read the first few pages of the 9/11 report. It didn't take long for me to feel nauseous and stay up half the night with worry, so I stopped reading it. But. Something I do remember is that the people in the tower that wasn't initially hit (but felt shaking and swaying, etc.) did one of two things (basically.) They either immediatly left, thinking something wasn't right and they should probably get out (survived), or, carried on as usual thinking nothing of it (did not survive.) Now, this is extremely grim, but what did I do when the building I was in shook in a suspicious manner? Nothing. What a great example for an emergency planner to set! Technically, we did the right thing for an earthquake, stay put and wait it out and stay away from big stuff. But I didn't think it was an earthquake initally and I guess that makes me a pessimist, or a realist, or something.
But I guess, despite training and knowledge, I psychologically did what all other lemmings do. Seek comfort in the actions of others. I think we Americans like to say 'no big deal!' to lots of things, hence we carried on as usual. But I think next time, I might think a little more carefully.
I did think about demanding that those around me use their smart phones to figure out what had happened. I did think that if it were my doomsday scenario we were slightly safter inside. And this all has gotten me thinking of how well we are prepared as individuals.
When it comes down to it, perhaps we will not have the government or the media to tell us what to do, but will have to think and plan for ourselves. Especially when we are out and about and all we may have are the contents of our pockets to get us through. When you are in it, it is difficult to see the big picture. Could we have stepped outside and seen the mall fall down, a cloud of smoke in the distance, a plague of locusts? Who knows?
Of course, I'm not going to build an Anderson Shelter in my back yard or stock my basement with spam, but I will give it some thought. I could embody another American sterotype, that of self reliance, a bit more fully.

I think that's all I wanted to rant about, and I am sorry it got on a bit, but I think it makes sense and is worth a ponder. Yes, I've now felt an earthquake, and yes, it did scare me. And, on a side note, it did feel and sound just like that simulator at the Natural History Museum.

My house was fine, and after nearly 100 years of standing, already had cracks in the ceiling, so I'm not sure if any are new. My playmobile ambulance did roll off of it's shelf, but survived the ordeal. The greatest loss so far are the finials at the National Cathedral and the renewed loss of innocence I have when I felt for a moment that I was in the middle of something very real and very serious.

C3,4,5

2011-08-19T21:41:00.002-04:00

Among the millions of mnemonics one learns in paramedic class, one I still remember is "C3,4,5, keep the diaphragm alive". This refers to three of the vertebrae in the neck which if intact, keep the phrenic nerve working and telling the diaphragm to move so that breathing occurs (among other complicated things that keep you breathing). But on a physically tangible level, it is the most simple. This tidbit of information is not an extremely useful thing to know as we don't have x-ray machines and if your not breathing we'll help you out regardless.
But sometimes, it just cool to know. And it allows me to say things like "Well it wasn't C3, 4, or 5, because he was still breathing." Unfortunately, our patient wasn't able to do much other than that. It was a real lesson for me in spinal shock. This patient had well, one way or another, broken a window with his head which (I now know) broke some of his cervical vertebra and because there is no light way of putting it, paralysed him.
It was the first time in years that I saw a KED board (here's a low budget explanation) actually being used. And a more appropriate time I haven't encountered. The patient looked, for a lack of concise clinical wordage, like crap. To me, he really looked like an MI patient about to leave this world. This freaked me out and we did our best and happily flew this patient to the nearest trauma center as soon as humanly possible. After asking several colleagues, that is what spinal shock looks like: bad.
It was an interesting call and one I'd rather not repeat because it was scary on many levels. One thing about this job that I don't like is how often it reminds us of how fragile we are.

MI (s)

2011-08-19T20:49:00.001-04:00

I was at my part time gig where we hang out in triage and help out in the ER (crazy, I know!). But sometimes we get to play, bandaging and starting IVs and stuff before they get to the department. The other day, a guy came in, said he had a little chest pain and thought he should be checked out. It was kind of busy so one of my colleagues took him to a spare area next to triage and hooked him up to the three lead. There it was, ST elevation in II, III and aVF. So we got him straight back, did a 12 lead, talked to the doc, sunk some IVs and he was flown to an interventional cath lab within 20 minutes. I must say, it was kind of awesome.
We got settled back in after that and about 10 minutes later another guy came in saying he just didn't feel right and thought he should be checked. The triage nurse and I put him in the monitor and low and behold: a STEMI! II, III and aVF again. It was deja-vu as I wheeled him back, we did a 12 lead, talked to the doc, sunk some IVs and he was on his way to an interventional cath lab within 30 minutes.
It was indeed strange, and though I kept trying to envoke the rule of '3's', a third MI didn't walk in.

Throat Holes

2011-08-18T20:12:00.000-04:00

That title sounds dirty, but for some reason I like saying it. I mean throat hole literally, as in a hole in the throat. And not one that comes standard.
I went on a trouble breathing call, arrived to find a guy leaned over sitting on a bed struggling for breath. As he looked up at me, I noticed blood running down his shirt coming from his neck.
It turns out that he had a trach (a throat hole, if you will) placed a few months ago. He was attempting to change the inner catheter when he began to think that he couldn't breathe properly. He promptly panicked as any normal person would, and then pulled his entire trach out as any normal person would? Either way, it left him, not feeling much better. To add to his distress, as he leaned over, he was occluding the hole.
At a loss of what else to do, I took a regular endotracheal tube and shoved it into the hole, inflated the cuff, and he kind of felt better. By then, he needed a breathing treatment which I was happy to give and though he wasn't well by the time we got to the hospital, he was better.
It was kind of a fun call, getting to solve such a problem. Which is mostly what we do anyway.

Sorry, Blog

2011-08-11T16:53:00.000-04:00

You've been neglected. I've been focused on gluing photo mats together and making futile attempts at assembling an ez-up tent in my woefully too small back yard. I've been working out a wild-ass plan with almost no mention here. I've been going to work and going to calls, and yet, not one word to you. I've been riding bikes. I've even been writing, with surprising regularity, but not here. How sad this is. How can I stray so far from my roots?

I've stuck ET tubes in peoples throat holes (literally) treated two MI's in 10 minutes, and used a KED board, and do you know about it? No! How terrible. If you were a person you'd be pale and emaciated, searching for nutrition and sustenance.

But, fear not, blog. You are loved. Please do not be sad that your sister blog has been getting more attention as of late. Hers is a specialty topic, and I'll run out of material soon enough. Like the prodigal kayak, blog, I will get you out of the yard and into some water. I'll make you promises that I intend to keep and soon get out of this summer lull. After six years, I think you know that I'll always come back to you. You are the outlet.
I'll see you soon.
Big Love,
Ellie

Under the Same Sun

2011-08-02T10:19:00.001-04:00

Here's a little plug, for the now, (somewhat) official photography selling biz. I have put some wheels in motion and spent some money and am almost ready to start selling photographs at craft fairs and the like. I am particularly excited about my business cards which will be particularly awesome and officiall looking.
There's not much to see on the site at the moment, but it's a start. Please check back often to my sister blog and come on down to a show if you can. (If I ever get into one!)

Link: http://thesamesunphotography.blogspot.com/

email enquiries ellieunderthesun@gmail.com

All Was Well

2011-07-16T20:23:00.001-04:00

I can't let this weekend pass without mentioning the inescapable behemoth that is Harry Potter. After a decade of waiting for the conclusion on screen, I have finally seen it, and my review is quite simple: It. Was. Awesome.
As a book purist, surely nothing can replicate the excitement I felt madly flipping through those pages of the last book back in '07, but this movie came close.
For the most part, it didn't feel rushed, the effects were wonderful, and every character got their moment in the sun. It was gory and scary and artistically raw when it needed to be. The changes from the book felt necessary for cinematic purposes, it felt truly epic and on a more tangible grand scale than in the book. Really, I just thought it was great. It is not every day that I see a movie and the audience breaks into spontaneous applause more than once, and I felt that at points, no one in that theatre was breathing. Much like Toy Story 3, I felt I could have probably cried through the whole thing.
I am, of course, sorry to see it go, but what an amazing (over 21 hour) legacy it has to show. I feel nothing in a long time to come could trump it on any level. I will be happy one day to share such an amazing story with my kids.

The Rest of the Week

2011-07-15T20:49:00.001-04:00

Thankfully, the rest of the first week of camp went by with just the usual maladies and complaints to be expected of kids on their first extended sojurn away from their parents. Most of them dislike it when I am completely unimpressed by their injury or complaint. They expect quite a lot of reaction that I expect they are used to receiving at home. Sadly for them, I don't particularly care that they have scraped themselves, have found a minute cut on their pinky fingers, or have a tiny headache. Well, I do care, but I am not going to fawn all over them. Camp is character building and although some are legitimately hurt or sick, most of the time, I'll put a band-aid over something and send them on their way.
I do love the kids that I can joke around with, I become incredibly sarcastic and when they can tell I'm joking, it is a lot of fun. One kid came to me with a microscopic cut on his thumb.
"Oh, my, look at that! What happened?!"
"I don't really know, I just noticed it."
I carefully inspected it.
"Well, it doesn't look too bad. Do you think you'll make it?"
"I, uh, yeah, I think so." He grinned, "But there is this bump I noticed."
"Hmm," I thoughfully palpated it. "Yes, that could be a problem. But I do think it's your bone. Would you like me to remove it? We can if you want. If it's bothering you too much."
He pulled his hand away, inspecting it himself, laughed and replied, "No, I think I'll keep it."
"Well, okay, but you let me know if you change your mind. We'll get that bone right out of there."
Oh yes, and that was in front of his mom. He ran off and she and I shared an eye roll. I love people with a sense of humor. Exhanges like that are what I love about being camp or when I look at their cut and shout "Call the national guard! Set up a landing zone for their helicopter!" and the kids just laugh.
I think I'm sick.

Afterbite

2011-07-11T20:09:00.001-04:00

I am back again as camp nurse this year, and although it's just the first day, it has already been amusing, to say the least. We always start camp with a good old fashioned nature hike at the beginning of each week. Last year, apparently everyone got a little 'misplaced' on the hike and it ended up taking twice as long and they had to come get the youngest campers in a bus and it was all a huge mess. As soon as I heard this story, I was suddenly very glad to have missed it. Other adults came along this year to ensure that the hike would be back to its usual length.
Somehow, though, this didn't work out. I'm not sure when it became clear that we had taken a wrong turn but as we entered the second hour, even the least astute camper had noticed. I was more concerned with the inordinate amount of campers being stung by bees. It was like an M. Night Shyamalan movie. The suspense built, first a couple of kids were stung, then a while later four or five more, then later three or four more until at one point the whole group was at a standstill all comforting a sting victim while hugging eachother and sobbing uncontrollably. If it hadn't been so annoying, it would have been funny. Well, it was funny anyway. Thank God, none of them were allergic which was my nightmare situation despite having a reserve of epi. Some put on brave faces, but most quietly wept for the duration of the hike. Thankfully I had a stick of afterbite which I used as a placebo (it's more for itch than bite) on all the kiddos. That and the promise of ice packs upon our return kept them motivated, even though I had no idea where we were or how long it would take to get back. By the time we emerged from the woods there had been ten victims (a fourth of the group) and all others were whiny, hot, and exhausted. Ah, that's what camp is all about!

Nothing like EMS

2011-07-03T10:19:00.000-04:00

There is nothing like parting traffic with a wailing siren. Nothing like stepping over puddle of blood to get to the patient. Nothing like sinking those IVs and pushing those meds. There is nothing like having a backboarded patient throwing up while we are being driven emergency through a city. Nothing like fishing out a basin while dumping the entire contents of a cabinet onto the floor. Nothing like heaving the board on to its side and balancing it on my thigh while clinging to the center bar like a crazed monkey. Nothing like having to tell the patient he has no need to apologize. Nothing like that hard turn that nearly dumps me into the puddle of sick. There is nothing like giving a clean, clear yet unrehearsed report to the trauma team. Nothing like telling a doc that 'you might want to leave that strap on, it's holding him to the board.' when moving the patient. Nothing like the renewed fresh smell of a clean ambulance. There is nothing like this job.

Summer

2011-06-23T19:13:00.003-04:00

I must have let it be known in the previous six years of the blog that I mostly hate summer. Almost exclusively because it's hot. Secondly because there are school age kids in public in the middle of the day in the middle of the week. But mostly it's the heat.
A couple of weeks ago I got a hair cut (well, all of them, budum, chee!) mostly because the summer is hot and I hate it and the long hair really gets annoying. But my hair is now just a little too short to pull back and must nearly constantly be beaten into submission and forced behind my ears. This is fine unless I'm doing, well, anything.
Last week at work I ran a cardiac arrest and I found myself poised with a laryngoscope and taking a time out to pointedly put my hair behind each ear. It took about 20 seconds for my hair to wriggle out and then be perpetually in my face because I didn't want to touch it with my dirty gloves. That, plus the heat of the day was causing me to sweat in a very un-ladylike fashion and I was constantly wiping my brow pointlessly with my arm. I couldn't take my gloves off as by that point they were kind of a permanent part of my sweaty hands and if I got them off, I'd have to wait an hour before my hands would be dry enough to accept a clean pair. So, I had to fling my hair in a whiplash inducing toss to keep it relatively out of my face, and despite a good tube, constant CPR, and at least seven defibrillation attempts, the code was not successful. Which left me irritated, hot, and in desperate need of a slurpee. I must have looked more harried than I felt by the time we got to the hospital because no matter how insanely loud the a/c is running in the back of an ambulance, little progress is made toward it becoming less of an oven on wheels.
But sometimes, I really love summer. Swimming, eating ice cream as fast as I can to keep it from melting, the smell of barbecues from every back yard, long days, the sound of insects in the evening, watermelon, lightning bugs, corn on the cob. Not to mention almost unlimited time to play outside. Okay, so summer isn't so bad.
Yesterday, though, I found myself taking my bike ride in the heat of the day (I know, stupid!). I had decided on a little variety and took my usual loop backwards. It turned out that this was a bad idea as some hills look much better going down than coming up. In fact, some seem to never end. I was ten miles from home and ready to quit, stopping at each shady patch to evaluate my situation. It was so freaking hot and before me were hills and after me were hills. I sucked it up (though I had no choice) and completed the loop in it's entirety cursing my lack of available safe short cuts. The only redeeming feature was that I found a working pair of elitist headphones on the side of the road. Finding stuff for the win!

Anyway, enough whining about summer. It's not all mosquito bites and dehydration.

The Bruise

2011-06-18T20:19:00.002-04:00

I press my fingers into the bruise
on the back of my right hand.
It does not hurt enough.
It does not take their pain away,
It does not save him.

Hand on top of hand, I did my best
to pump his dying heart back to life.
Never wishing so fervently
for a patient to open his eyes and smile at us
as we congratulate ourselves.

A slow leak in the brain
has left her a widow
with only one month in.
Does he have to die,
to remind us to live?

All of our tools could not compete.
Could not reverse the damage.
Still I plead with his heart.
Just start again
and we’ll give you what you want.

I press my fingers into the bruise
on the back of my right hand.
It does not hurt enough.
It does not take their pain away,
It does not save him.

A Race

2011-06-17T19:35:00.003-04:00

They had picked up a patient at the nursing home and were coming down the hallway with him on the cot. Ahead, two women were side by side shuffling down the hall in their wheelchairs.
“Ooh, it's a race!” she exclaimed as they approached, pointing at the lined up wheelchairs.
Her partner laughed "Who's gonna win?"
They stopped the stretcher behind them and she walked up and squeezed the shoulder of one on them. “Do you mind if I push you along a bit, dear. We just have to get by.”
The wheelchair bound woman agreed and picked up her feet.
The EMT pushed her up and left her six feet in front of the other woman so that they could get the stretcher by.
As they passed, she pointing behind her with her thumb and, shaking her head with genuine concern said, “The other lady will never make up that time.”

Avalanche

2011-06-15T19:26:00.001-04:00

Before we headed north, C suggested that we backpack one night and then hike in the high peaks the next day on a trail to "Avalanche Pass." To be honest, from the start I was not in love with the idea, and the addition of the word avalanche to our marathon of hiking didn't really sweeten the deal.
But, despite a questionable weather report and a significant drop in temperature from 60 miles east, we headed into the woods from Adorandack HQ. Though I had a 'tude on from the start, it was really good hiking. The trail was interesting and variable and there were no bugs! It was sprinkling rain throughout and the wind was cutting, but that really only made things better in a weird way. Until we stopped for lunch and nearly froze to death. We didn't do the whole hike to avoid walking along some exposed areas (didn't really want to brave the wind) but did make it to avalance lake which was beautiful. The trail got incredibly silly, comprised at some point mainly of wooden ladders carrying the hiker over enromous boulders. Did. not. like. at all. But, we made it to our 'goal' and it was altogether a good day.
By the end of the day, we brought our three day total to 25 miles. Not too shabby for the first hike(s) of the season.
The next day, we could miraculously sill walk and spent some time at a great and very camp mini golf course before going to a wedding. It was a fun time but we didn't leave until 9pm, drove all night and I got to bed at about 0515 and went to my grandmothers birthday party later that day. Whew!

NY

2011-06-07T20:16:00.002-04:00

Last week we headed to upstate New York, starting at Niagara Falls, which really wasn't NY at all. I'm happy to report that it only took me seven months to get back out of the country, even if it was only for a few hours. I hadn't been to Niagara since I was about 4 or 5 when I refused to get on the maid of the mist. And then, once convinced to get on, refused to get off. Man that was awesome.
This time, we did the behind the falls tour on the Canadian side. Someone thought it would be a good idea to build a tunnel behind the falls which is actually pretty cool as you are literally behind the falls. The view was um, watery.
We then visited illustrious Watertown, NY, a veritable hotbed of activity. If you count the production of car freshening trees and memorial day BBQs. From there we headed into the mountains and hiked and camped for three days.
The first day we left from a little town called Wanakena. It was warm, but the sun was baking the piney smell right out of the trees and the air was filled with the most pleasing aroma.
That is, until the air was filled with black flies. Nine miles of hiking and all I could hear was buzzing in my ears. The trail was fairly flat, and great for a first hike of the season. We camped at high falls, a great place to be where instead of bugs, the sound of crashing water filled the air and made for a pleasant evening.
I had my first shelter camping experience and it turns out we dragged a tent into the wilderness for no reason at all. I didn't much care for the shelter, it was strangely warm all night and inside the sleeping bag was too hot, while outside, every exposed piece of skin was susceptible to an endless supply of mosquitoes. But, though a chipmunk tried to rob us, we didn't get eaten by a bear, and the shelter was nice at 5am when a storm stirred up and blew a bunch of branches (logs, I should say) out of trees right in front of us. Scary.

The next day we did have a maybe, kind of, could have been run in with a bear. We heard a very suspicious noise and C thought he saw it, but we didn't stick around to make sure. We just STARTED TALKING VERY LOUDLY FOR POTENTIALLY NO REASON, but it made me feel better about the whole situation. From there we traversed beaver dams and at one point had to cross a terrifyingly high log over an otherwise impassable creek. Did. not. like. Turns out, we found more obstacles I didn't like the next day. By day two we had almost 16 miles under our belts and set out to the high peaks.

When I'm 95

2011-06-06T16:39:00.004-04:00

Last week, my grandmother turned 95. For the last few years I have had a work in progress poem, progressively titled 'When I'm 92...93...94' and this year, I finally settled on the lines.
Happy Birthday Grandmom, I'm sure Mom will print this out for you.

When I'm 95, I want to be like you.
I want to be alive!
I want independence, children whose successes outweigh mine,
and grandchildren I can sip whisky with.

When I'm 95, I want to be like you.
I want to be a good storyteller.
But really I would settle for the stories. They are what define you.
The one of bread handed over a fence, a proud little red wagon, or how a pair of pants set you free.
Or how you picked up coal from the train tracks, your adventures at the cannery, and how much you loved selling stationary at the five and dime.

When I'm 95, I want to be like you.
I want to have found love. I want to have given all of mine and have it be enough.
I want to know the secret of a long happy marriage.
I want friends. Friends who truly know me, and after decades, it would be hard not to.
I want a family. Like yours, a family who can look past differences and distances. Family that can come together without quarrel, pretence, or shame.

When I'm 95, I want to be like you.
I want to know joy and sorrow, success and failure. I want to know what life truly is and understand the sacrifices it requires. I want the strength to make them.

When I'm 95, I want to be like you.
Well, I'd like to be like you now.
Mostly, I want your generosity.
When I come over, you never fail to shower me with, well, whatever you have. Doubtless, you would give me anything you owned if I needed it.
But, little do you know that I am satisfied now by what I have always been. A coke and a handful of M and M's. A taste of your unfailing love, and a good story, of course.

When I'm 95, I want to be like you.
I want to embody these traits of yours,
to be your carbon copy.
Because I know that when I am 95, I will want to have you.

2nd June

2011-06-02T14:39:00.004-04:00

A stream in the Adirondacks.

1st June

2011-06-01T14:37:00.000-04:00

The very astute blog reader would point out now that I have skipped two days of the photo a day project this year. But, realizing this, I decided to do like Ramadan (not to compare the importance of Ramadan with that of posting a picture a day), but if you miss a day of fasting, you can just tack one onto the end. Which means, a 'bonus' photo a day for June 1 and 2! Luckily, I was doing something photogenic.

So, here's a fern. I know, exciting!

31st May

2011-05-31T14:18:00.005-04:00

Nine miles battling black flies finally becomes worth it.

30th May

2011-05-30T14:16:00.002-04:00

Oh, America.

29th May

2011-05-29T14:09:00.001-04:00

The Niagara River

Pics

2011-05-28T14:36:00.004-04:00

This afternoon I am headed to the northeast kingdom and the remaining pics of the day will likely not be posted until June. Hope you'll survive the anticipation. So, until then, imagine camping! and waterfalls! and mountains! and hiking! and miscellanea!
Hopefully they'll be worth the wait.

27th May

2011-05-27T14:33:00.000-04:00

So, firetrucks make for good subjects.

26th May

2011-05-26T10:01:00.003-04:00

a damn fine breakfast

25th May

2011-05-25T21:16:00.002-04:00

...ride bikes.

24th May

2011-05-24T15:51:00.000-04:00

contents of a fire engine

23rd May

2011-05-23T15:46:00.000-04:00

fancy new stat packs, jealous?

22nd May

2011-05-22T15:38:00.001-04:00

I warned you about the excessive bike pictures.

Took me ages to clean.

21st May

2011-05-21T15:23:00.001-04:00

Possibly the most awesomely fantastic bike on the trail, no, in the whole state, no, country, no, planet. James Starley would be proud.

Most definitely the coolest, most awesomely fantastic sweetest gift in the history of gift giving.

And it rips.

The Bar

2011-05-20T20:27:00.001-04:00

Sorry, the pics have gotten a little messed up. Well, I'm a day behind so far, but I've just been uninspired today. But if I am consistantly a day behind, maybe no one will notice. Who am I kidding, no one will notice if I am not a day behind.
Also, I kind of think I set the bar pretty high yesterday. I pulled over on the highway, crawled over to get out of the other side of the car, then ran down a hilly, wet embankment to cut power lines out of the shot. Then I ran back up the bank through thigh high soaking wet grass. Totally worth it. And really, compared to that, a picture of some CPR mannequins from my PALS refresher today would just be disappointing. Mostly for me.
Outside of that, I've gotten some good rides in recently, despite the rain. Well, a couple of days ago, I made it 18 miles before I was drenched and had to seek refuge at a local school to wait out the torrential downpour. Luckily, I did stop, but I was already quite wet by then. I thought I could beat it, and when it started to rain, I found myself running the bike across a road and then racing like an idiot down a hill and over sidewalks to find a place to hide.
I am looking forward to a gloious and dry(er) weekend and hopefully the introduction of a super sweet new ride. If that happens as scheduled, the rest of May will be nothing but glamour shots of the bike along singletrack in various states of cleanliness.
Well, I'm not sure where I was going with this post, just apologies for consistant lateness of pics. At least it is consistant. And the stolen internet at the house is reliably inconsistant. That has contributed a lot to late pics. But, again, it doesn't really matter. Uh, this post is disjointed. I'll stop now before it gets embarrasing.

19th May 11

2011-05-19T14:01:00.005-04:00

Maybe National Geographic is right.

18th May

2011-05-18T19:53:00.000-04:00

I have a rose bush. Try to contain your excitement

17th May

2011-05-17T08:36:00.000-04:00

Didn't quite make it home without getting drenched.

16th May

2011-05-16T16:13:00.000-04:00

15th May

2011-05-15T16:17:00.000-04:00

Ah, rural paradise from the bike.

14th May

2011-05-14T10:06:00.000-04:00

Some giant plant that sprung up in the garden. Looks cool after the rain.

13th May

2011-05-13T04:53:00.000-04:00

4 am boot portrait. Late half because of blogger, half because of me.

12th May

2011-05-12T16:29:00.000-04:00

Check out this dinosaur! Actually, I kind of like it, I think it only weighs like 20lbs as opposed to the 'fancy' motorized one we actually use.

TV

2011-05-11T19:41:00.000-04:00

I started the call cold and irritated.
After your apathetic husband, flagged us down,
then disappeared into a dark, unmarked doorway your shady apartment complex.
Once we found you, dramatically laying on the floor.
'Come on, get up now dear, laying there isn't going to help your breathing'
Stale cigarettes are in the air and as I give you a breathing treatment,
I start my lecture on smoking.
But as your story unravels
I soften
I kneel down to look into your face
and put my hand on your wrist
wishing I could do the impossible.
I cannot make your husband love you
I cannot make your children care
what I can do
is offer you my help
such as it is
I wish I weren't so jaded
didn't approach such situations with a negative attitude
but I grow suspicioius
when displayed in your squalid apartment
is a paper thin and absolutely enormous
TV.

11th May

2011-05-11T15:33:00.000-04:00

I've been exploring where I can safely go on the bike from my new digs. Sure, I could get back to my old bike route, but now I can get to other parts of the county too. It's a cool city and I love how quickly I can go from downtown to a rural paradise.
The only problem with urban and suburban riding is the increased number of cars I have to deal with to get to these rural paradises. (paradises? just go with it). The problem is not only do people somehow not see me despite lights and a beautiful high-vis vest, but they continually underestimate how wide a bike is, and how I just might not want to ride through the puddles or over the grates and tons of gravel on the sides of the street. The new law in my state is that bikes must be given three feet of space when being passed. So, basically I need to tape a yard stick to my handlebars to illustrate just how wide three feet is.
More importantly for my immediate safety is that I need to remember that in this heavenly time of year, people just might have their windows down. I talk to myself a lot when I'm riding, most often exasperated cursing as I turn a corner to find yet another hill. But I also talk to the cars on the street as if I were still in one. I'm sure people have heard me ranting about their driving as they race past, or my general yelling of "It's okay, I'm not here!" and, "I'm not wearing this vest for my health. Oh wait, I AM!"
Today I went down a road I didn't intend to where the shoulder is narrow and the speed limit a bit above my comfort level. At least twice I was just yelling "AHHHH!" as cars hastily passed me without checking for oncoming traffic. Although, it was strangely exhilarating not only to shout like a crazy person while flying down a hill, but glancing back and seeing an impatient driver and their car in my back pocket. "AHHHH! Don't do it!!!"
Come to think of it, finding exhilaration has been on my resolution list.

Birthday Bonus Pic

2011-05-10T21:37:00.002-04:00

My neice and nephew turn 9 today. Here's a couple from the 'flipbook of supidity' I made while attempting to get one sensible picture of them. Somehow saying 'act normal' didn't have the result I expected.

But, 'show me your guns' did.

10th May

2011-05-10T21:18:00.002-04:00

The bike and I found some unauthorized trail today a couple miles from the house. It wasn't trespassing exactly...

9th May

2011-05-09T09:06:00.005-04:00

After six months cooped up in a suitcase, the prayer rug has found a home. Until I get a pet.

8th May

2011-05-08T08:19:00.001-04:00

Because I have extremely unreliable and stolen interwebs at home, the pic o' the day is probably going to be consistantly late on days I don't work. But today, it comes early for all you east coast readers.

Sometimes, it's worth getting up at awful hours to go to work.

7th May

2011-05-07T20:16:00.000-04:00

Even though I spent the whole day with C test riding bikes, you get a picture of my garden. Lucky you.

6th May

2011-05-06T21:06:00.000-04:00

fire hose

5th May

2011-05-05T21:03:00.000-04:00

Housewarming spool candlesticks.

4th May

2011-05-04T18:51:00.002-04:00

some LP15 action, jealous?

3rd May

2011-05-03T15:09:00.003-04:00

Loaner ambulance, I am not sorry to see it go. But it looks cool.

Helpful Doctors

2011-05-02T20:32:00.001-04:00

The post that never was. She said in a spooky voice. I meant to write about an overbearing 'doctor' mother I had who insisted that she could give me orders for racemic epi for her kid that did not need it. It was funny and frustrating and altogether amusing, but I never wrote it down. Now, If I don't publish this, the blog will make a liar out of me as I just wrote my 800th post. But technically since this one was never published, it was my 799th post. Once I hit publish, all will be right with the blogging world. Whew!

2nd May

2011-05-02T20:23:00.003-04:00

I like my sweet new fancy pedals.

They do not like me.

1 May 2011

2011-05-02T00:56:00.000-04:00

Crappy camera phone necessity. Bin Laden is dead.

1st May

2011-05-01T21:09:00.003-04:00

[no picture] What a good start to my project. The day is almost over, I am at work for the night, and I only just realized it was the first of May. No problem, I thought to myself, there's plenty to take a picture of here. One tiny problem. No one can take a picture without a camera. The fancy cam is safe at home, and the camera I usually carry at work is in my camelbak. What the heck. So, please envision the most amazing, wonderful, evocative, and moving picture to fill in for today. Or you can look at the picture of a miniature horse in a minivan I posted last month.

See you tomorrow.

Tattoo Evolution

2011-05-01T20:57:00.000-04:00

I had collected a handful of trash in my gloved hand and went to take it off so that the trash would be trapped inside. The stupid cheap glove ripped though and all of the trash spilled back onto the floor. 'Oh...you!' My EMT suggested I grab a few pairs of their black gloves, as they are far superior.
'Oh, I love the black gloves, they make it look like I'm a tattoo artist.'
This piqued my patients interest and we got to talking about tattoos.
'Do you have any?' I asked her, fully expecting a no.
'I do' she answered confidently
'Oh, where is it? If you don't mind.'
There was a short pause and she lowered her voice 'On the top of my breast.'
'Ooh! Scandalous! What is it?'
'Well,' she answered seriously, 'It was a hummingbird. But now it looks more like a bald eagle.'
There was a pregnant pause as my parner couldn't see the mischevious glint in her deadpan face. Unable to decide if she should laugh or not, she could bear it no more and let a short chuckle pass her lips, half embarrased. When we all joined her and I think the patient was quite pleased with her funny.

The Joys of Homeownership

2011-04-27T20:01:00.009-04:00

To be fair, there are a lot. The space, the freedom, the amazing feeling I got when I declared war on the English Ivy in the garden. In just over three weeks, I've painted one room (not yellow), painted the bathroom (not bright yellow with an acrylic enamel for outdoor furniture), and planted my garden. Declaring war on the ivy was the beginning. I've also openly warring with peeling paint, the tree that shaded my yard into a desolate wasteland, and all of the bees that are boring holes in my porch. Did you know that it takes more than just yelling at them to get them to go away? Spraying them with some kind of poison is far more effective than shouting 'Get the hell off my porch! You bore me!'

Anyway, I'm not sure where I was going with this, but I have developed a disorder that leaves me with an inability to relax at the house. Something must need doing, and if not, I'll stand around staring at things until it does. And I think that not having TV or internet has turned me in to a far more productive person. I'm sure it won't last, so I'd better take advantage.
I can also say with almost absolute certainty that almost everything I own is under one roof. I rescued some boxes I had packed and stored in my sisters garage about five years ago. It seems that I was a bit better at prioritizing things then. I do want all of my playmobil, my high school diploma (don't ask me why), and the many, many tapes I used to listen to over and over again as a kid. If anyone wants a dramatic retelling of 'Bert and Ernie Side by Side' or 'Bread and Jam for Francis' I would be happy to indulge you. The pic above was on a box I had packed. I think I actually kept half of its contents. So, I was half right.

Other than that I finally got the bike out, used a weedwacker, and was asked to punch someone in the face.

Bonus Photo of the Day

2011-04-15T19:46:00.000-04:00

It's not even time for the photo a day dealie, but I saw this today and knew that it had to be posted to the interwebs. Enjoy!

Come to think of it, why don't they make little horse trailers for little horses? Maybe they do? I'm gonna google it.

Backpack, Suitcase, House

2011-04-13T20:58:00.002-04:00

I liked the idea of squeezing everything I needed into two suitcases last year. Even then, I had plenty I didn't need, including about ten pounds of chocolate by the end. For a month this fall I loved the idea of squeezing everything I needed to live (apart from food) into a backpack. Home was on my back. But quite heavy.

Having survived out of two suitcases and subsequently a daypack, what has overwhelmed me in this official moving process is the amount of things I own and 'need.' In the past few weeks, I've been going though a lot of my things. Firstly, the things that I packed, well, hid, away at my parents house. The things that my 17 year old self believed were essential, but not essential enough to go to college, or really see the light of day for 10 years. It's funny to sift through these 'important' relics. Some are sentimental still, many more, completely pointless. But I am keeping in mind the things I'll find interesting in years to come. When another decade passes and I open that box, run the tassel from my high school graduation though my fingers, all those old memories will come flooding back again. And in that moment I'll be glad that I still have it. The problem lies in that between now and my next nostalgic sojourn, I don't particularly want to see the stuff. Nor do I want to furnish a place for it to live.
Now, since moving in, I've been going through the things that just a year ago I deemed to be 'essential.' Now, essential may be an overstatement, but some of it really is quite silly. It's funny the things that we acquire that hold meaning and I am by no means a hoarder, but some things just can't be given up. A few items I've rolled out of their protective newspaper and after 18 months of separation I gasp with the joy of having it again. And talk about silly. These are things like a ceramic model of the Colosseum, salt and pepper shakers in the shape of light bulbs, my tea kettle, and other little trinkets that I had all but forgotten.

So, though I can't help but be kind of horrified by the amount of things I have, it all just fits in the house, which makes me feel a lot better. It's crazy though to see the contents of a one room apartment expand like a molasses flood until it fills every nook and cranny of a much larger space. Still, I'm quite pleased with my little house and after being at work for two days, cannot wait to get back and have a nap on the couch.

Home

2011-04-01T16:41:00.003-04:00

The sign has changed again, and now a proud "SOLD" has been hung. Yesterday I went to the settlement table with all it's dramatics. It got a little crazy when we discovered a couple of contract breeches (nothing major at all), that the termite inspector sent us the wrong report (3 weeks ago), and rather importantly, that my lender did not arrive on time with the money for the seller. Closing was postponed for a couple of hours while my Realtors head exploded and everything eventually got sorted out. So, in the afternoon, rather than the morning, all the papers were there and filled out correctly, and then I got a cramp from signing them all.
I was in by five and we had the inaugural meal, cooked in my fancy pants gas oven and then the fam left me to start cleaning. Since I'm back at work this afternoon, I haven't gotten much finished. The kitchen is ready, downstairs bathroom approved, and the upstairs bathroom is now adorned with my long awaited London Tube map shower curtain.

It pleases me greatly.
Over the next few days I'll finish cleaning and moving a few things in, the official move in isn't until next weekend because I kind of can't go home anymore because I constantly must be at work. It's a catch 22.
Oh, and although I am writing this on 1 April, I really did get in the house. No foolin'

editors note 13 April 11 20:58 Of course, champagne was provided. Don't be silly.

Nobody wants help

2011-03-25T15:55:00.000-04:00

I've had a frustrating string of patients who, at the end of the day, called 911, but didn't really want our help. Especially where IVs are concerned. I mean, nobody really wants an IV, but I figure it's standard issue for most patients. One guy said he wasn't sure but I assured him that if I didn't give him I'd look like a slacker. In hindsight, it all sounds like I'm forcing these patients to take treatment they don't want. They want treatment, but they were all acting so aloof about recieving it from me.
One lady insisted on shouting "You won't find it, you won't find it!" while wriggling around like a fool when I went to start her IV. Well, I'm glad you believe in me, and I certainly won't if that's all the faith you have.
Another lady really just wanted a ride to the hospital I guess.
"I'd like to give you these chewable aspirin, is that okay?"
"Do you have any water?"
"No, but they're chewable."
"Well...no thanks."
...and later...
"I'm going to give you this spray of medicine under you tongue, hopefully it will help to relieve your pain."
"Really, can't you just wait until we get to the hospital?"
"If I did that, ma'am, my job would be obsolete."

Everyone is wanting to wait to get to the hospital.
"I'm going to start an IV in case you need any medicines or fluids."
"Do you have to? Can't we wait until we're at the hospital"
*exhasperated sigh*

Abandonment

2011-03-24T10:13:00.011-04:00

At long last, dear readers, I will not subject you (at this juncture) with a post of whinging about house buying, or inane travel, but finally write a post about EMS.
Back in EMT school they had the requisite lecture about the legality of what we do, or more importantly, what we don't do. What occasion, I thought to myself during those law related lectures, would I ever have to abandon my patient.
Well, strictly speaking I didn't abandon her.
We had a call to a hotel. The BLS crew beat me there and were already headed down the hall back to the ambulance when I arrived. The patient probably had too much caffiene and had an episode of tacycardia that had all but resolved itself by the time I saw her. One of the EMTs took my truck back to the hospital, and the other hopped into the drivers seat.
In the midst of starting this patients requisite IV, a second call went out to the same hotel for a cardiac arrest. I knew (or so I thought) that the next medic was at least 10 minutes away. I looked at my partner in the rear view mirror and we both mouthed 'what do we do?!' to eachother. Her partner had already left with my truck so after a minute of thought and a quick explaination to my patient I said I'd be right back, abandoned my IV attempt, took the monitor off of her, and headed back upstairs.
Unfortunately, unless I had arrived an hour or more in advance, I might have made a difference in this patient. He was wedged between the bed and the bedside table and getting him out of that position by myself was a bit of a challenge, but I like to see what hotel furniture is not nailed down. By the time I got him in a workable position, on the monitor, and coached the poor hotel employee who arrived in CPR, the next due medic got there. I gave him a quick report, took his equipment and headed back to my patient. She was totally cool, and really had nothing wrong with her by that time and we headed to the hospital, about 15 minutes later that scheduled.

Shipping up to Boston

2011-03-21T15:53:00.000-04:00

When I got home, a couple of friends invited us to join them in a road trip to Boston on St. Patty's day weekend to see the Dropkick Murphys. Great Irish American and former New Englander that I am, I had barely heard of them.
But we said to ourselves, ...a weekend, in Boston, Irish band, sam adams...why not? In preparation I rewatched the Departed and said 'oh yeah, that song!' and I was ready.
So nine of us piled into a huge van and headed north. We arrived in time for dinner and headed up early the next morning to take in beautiful and historic Boston. And by beautiful and historic Boston I mean the Samuel Adams Brewery. This is hands down the most generous free tour around. On the tour we got to stick our faces in a pile of hops just like in the commericials and see the huge faux-copper tanks of beer. What really mattered though was the free tasting glass, and the pint or two we managed to fill it with. A dangerously short amount of time passed in the tasting room, and we headed right to Doyles for two more and another free glass. I can be bought with free glassware.
By then we were all quite happy indeed and it was only 1:30 in the afternoon. We headed, rather bravely, to a seafood restaraunt. I continued to try the 'award winning' chowder in every resatraunt we went to. I love that every single chowder in the north east is award winning. It must be really bad if your chowder hasn't won an award. They're all good to me, so awards all around!
We had a nap in the afternoon in anticipation of a long evening. The concert itself was really good. The opener was acually enjoyable and the Murphys have a great energy. And wow, people really like them! There was some great people watching going on and I enjoyed waiting for the group in front of us to get into a beer fueled fist fight. The band really mixes a lot of things and it's age demographic reflects that. There were clearly non chapperone older people there as well as kids. Standard isssue seating as well as a mosh pit. I can't fault a band that brings out six bagpipers and then celebrates some hot licks on the tin whistle, banjo, and accordian. Oh, and throw in some Irish step dancers too.
It was altogether a good time and I was happy to have survived it. We spent Sunday morning in the city which was a nice relaxing time.
So, DKM, we'll probably see you next year.

Not to mention

2011-03-10T14:56:00.001-05:00

It may seem obvious, but buying a house is expensive. I mean, don't even let me do the math and figure out that my lender is making 100% profit over 30 years off of me. Outside of principle and compounding interest, it's the 'little things' that are getting me now. $300 for an inspection, $450 for an appraisal, $250 for a settlement lawyer. Things that I didn't even think of before now. To be fair, the inspection did pay off, as the seller is now doing 2k worth or work to the place, but seriously. It is scary to think about all the 'nickle and dimeing' that will be going on at settlement. Only, it's not nickles and dimes. It's hundreds of dollars for completely intangible things. Deed surveys, fancy pens, outlandish property taxes, and don't even start me on mortgage insurance. There's a pointless $1200 a year, to protect not me, but my lender.
Just give me the keys! I am still vacillating between excitement and nerves, but I am mostly excited now about getting my spring veggies in the ground. It's been a long time since I had a garden. The anticipation of the house combined with spring fever is really getting to me. Good thing I'm working 72 hours this week. It's a good distraction. And in a bit of an oversight, I am settling on the 31st, then working the next five days. Silly me. So, five days of cleaning the place when I can be home and camping in the living room until we can get my furniture in.
So far the highlight of all that work has been a 3am diabetic. It had been so long since I had a hypo, I was half way through the amp of D50 before I realized that it had been well over a year since I gave my 'now you have to eat some real food' lecture. That and narcan are still my favorite drugs to give. Even though I finally felt useful at work, I was even happier to get the refusal and go back to bed.

Paperwork

2011-03-07T12:47:00.001-05:00

I think I may, may have found a bureaucratic process that is actually more complicated than applying for a UK student visa. The major difference with getting a mortgage is there are other people around to help me through the process. Thank God.

With the visa, I was kind of flying solo, getting only a little guidance from the home office whom I felt, like me, were making it up as they went along. The process of buying a house feels similar. Changing regulations and policies make it so complicated, you need a realtors license to muddle though. But, I have kind of enjoyed the process and jumping into homeownership with both feet. It has seemed easy, mostly because I kind of bought a house by accident, little believing that I could afford one I would actually like. I kind of assumed that I wouldn't and believed the whole looking process was futile and wouldn't go any further than 'ooh, this is nice...and expensive.'
But, it wasn't futile, and before I knew it I was 'signing my life away' on an official offer. That involved way more than I thought it would, including signing about 30 pages of contract.
Then all was accepted and happy and I found myself an inspector and we hovered over him as he checked all of the major organ systems of the house. Now I know 10% more about houses than I did before, which means I know 10% about houses. I found the inspection pretty scary because it was that time when I realized just how much can go wrong in a house. Renting is great, something breaks and someone else fixes it. Oh, but owning. When my 14 year old water heater kicks the bucket, it's all on me. Then it was more signing, calling a contractor, and waiting to see if the sellers would adhere to our wild demands.
In the midst of that I was shopping for interest rates and sorting out homeowners insurance, and getting overly excited about organizing my stuff and deciding what color I want to paint the living room. Since then I've locked in my rate, signed about 60 more papers, and figured out that I can't at the moment afford solar panels, but I definitly want them.
The mortgage application process is absolutely crazy, and after I submitted every possible piece of official paperwork I had, they asked for more. Mostly, they wanted an explaination about my address and job situations which are both a bit complicated by school and that fractious 12 month gap in income. They asked me about specific bank deposits which basically I couldn't remember. So I had to call the bank and get a copy of the checks I deposited to justify a $200 deposit. What silliness. I guess I've discovered that thanks to banks loaning to people who didn't realize what mortgage payments meant, I have to account for every penny I have. And it just irritated me, because I was under the impression that what I did with my money wasn't anyones business. Oh well, now that's done I hope.
Things are calmed down now and it's just a matter of waiting for my settlement date which sounds very serious. Mostly because I need a lawyer. And a pen. I think the signing isn't finished, and I hope that these papers aren't compared for accuracy because I think that my signature varies quite a bit from page to page.
I'm very grateful other people are telling me what to do in this process, I'd be lost otherwise. And even thought this one entails quite a bit more money, the visa process made me way more nervous.
Now back to shopping for veggie seedlings, rugs, and cleaning supplies.

Excitement, terror, anticipation

2011-02-23T15:03:00.000-05:00

There is an extra little sign dangling off of the 'for sale' sign in the front yard today. It says 'Under Contract'. Two words that fill me with many emotions; mostly excitement, terror, and anticipation. It seems that WAP #3 has progressed rather quickly, more quickly than I expected. But, I've discovered that for me, house shopping is much like dress shopping. I know when I've found one I like, so why keep looking?
Pending maintenance demands and official applications to go through, in a little over a month, I'll be moving my stuff into a 95 year old townhouse in my hometown. I've learned a lot over the last couple of weeks, mostly that mortgages are complicated, houses are needy, and my signature never looks the same way twice. I've never signed and initialed so many things in my life! The most ludicrous thing I've had to acknowledge, other than the dangers of lead paint and radon, I signed a paper that warned me that in this county, sometimes, I might smell manure or have to drive behind a tractor. Though I doubt I'll be smelling manure in the city center, I know now that I can't sue the world to compensate for my suffering. More worrisome, is that someone probably did try to sue the world for having to smell a farm, prompting the need for this disclosure.
So there's that. Weird. It feels so adult and I'm not sure I like it. Though I am very stoked about the whole thing. Then I'm terrified. Then excited. Then scared again. It's cyclical.
For now I'm off to stare at paint colors, research tankless water heaters, and daydream about solar panels.

Blogiversary 6

2011-02-15T11:01:00.005-05:00

It's that special time of year again when the blog and I go out on a romantic date and talk about ourselves and gush over each other until everyone around us is nauseated.
I suppose it is time, as I suggested to myself last year, that I write this entry without the air of incredulity of years past. This year, I can believe I'm still a blogger and that it's been six crazy years. Writing the blog seems a part of me for sure now and it's not so surprising that I'm still doing it.
I'm sorry I've only written 25 posts since my 'setecientos' back in September. It seems a lot has happened, but not much that has yielded blog posts. I think too, I am getting back in the swing of EMS writing- it seems a bit weird after so long. I am also wary of sharing snippets of strangers lives, and am trying to preserve privacy as always.
Also, it is my fervent hope that I'll have more to talk about in coming months including the progression of wild ass plans 2 and 3. Two is coming along at the moment, and most of that writing will probably be on a different blog (to be officially revealed in time). WAP 3 is the recent desire and ability to own a house. It really is a work in progress, and I am sure the nervous waiting is only in its infancy for me. For now, I'm off to field phone calls from realtors, banks, insurance companies, and contemplate how I could possibly be excited about going into such debt.

But, happy anniversary blog!

Thanks

2011-02-11T13:03:00.005-05:00

Last week, I got my first thank you card from a patient. It was really great to be thought of, and although I don't think we did anything above and beyond on the call, I did remember it. Most STEMIs are memorable.
The patient had chest pain, of course, and he had gone to his primary doctors office. The doc saw ST elevation and called 911 to take him in. This patient was virtually asymptomatic when I got there, but a quick glance at the 12 lead was all I needed. I read an article that said that the longer you stare at an EKG, the more anxiety it produces in the patient. In this case I didn't need to look long, and I'm sure my face gave it away anyway. So I did my own 12 lead and sent it to my general hospital while my partner got on the phone to the ER doc to 'get permission' to transport this patient to a hospital with a cath lab.
We were all packed up and ready to go while she was still on the phone with our ER doc who was hesitant to let us take this completely stable MI patient 20 minutes away. It is, of course, absolutely ludicrous to consider for one second to take this patient to our little hospital when a perfectly fine one is only 20 minutes away. After much hemming and hawing, we left for the fancy hospital.
Now, he was stable, but was a STEMI, so I asked my partner to get us through the traffic of the town. Until this point the patient had been a tough old cowboy who clearly hated the thought of any fuss being made over him. He had been stoic, moody, and to be fair, a bit impatient with us despite very little time lost with the whole consultation thing.
But, the second my partner hit the siren to get through an intersection, this stoic and cantankerous guy suddenly burst into tears and for a moment I was as surprised as he was, and for another horrible second, I thought he was faking.
I quickly explained the sirens and the other hospital and all that until he was comforted enough to stop. It really was an uneventful ride (as MIs go), and I was extremely gratified to find the cath team assembled, and everyone ready to receive our patient when we got there. In fact, the stars must have been aligned, as we transported him right to the cath table, and he was completely sorted out before we even got home.

Outloud

2011-02-10T20:09:00.002-05:00

Sometimes, no. Oftentimes on calls, little funny thoughts pop into my head. I refuse to say them, of course, because they are either rude, sick, or generally inappropriate.
One evening we were called to an old guy who had tripped on the rug, fell, and wacked his head on the edge of a table. The staff at his nursing home described quite a big gash, but by the time we got there they had it all wrapped up under a huge bandage.
Like many old guys he was a little confused and although had been through a bit of a trauma, he had also forgotten why there was a bandage on his head.

Patient: "Can't you take this big thing off my head?!"
Me: "We can't, 'cause it's keeping your brains in!" (OMG, did I just say that?!) Before I knew it, the words were out and I failed to grab them on their way past my lips. Then came the overly loud giggle, the nervous giggle, and finally the awkard silence.
These are the jokes everybody. I'm here all night. Tip...your...waitresses, I gotta go.

The Neglectful Blogger (or some such)

2011-02-03T20:06:00.003-05:00

Many apologies to my limited (but I'm sure dedicated) readership for lack of entries. It kind of is due to lack of things happening. Work, despite the weather recently has been slow, and I don't mind saying it. Slow, slow, slow! Quiet, quiet, quiet! Take that, EMS Gods! Maybe that will work.
We've expanded our service area to two new satellite stations, which is great for response times, but hard on volume, now spread amongst two more providers. Once all the box numbers get sorted out, it should get better, and I am pretty stoked that we stole area from an inferior local medic unit. When towns are so desperate to get rid of you that they'll offer another service a station, TV, parking spaces, and a whole load of other nice stuff, it must be bad. And really, to impress some of these places, all we have to do is use our light and sirens and show up. That is an improvement over the old service.
But I digress (as usual). I have used some of my time at work to get a leg up on the photography business. Lots of research has gone on, and I finally have some actual pictures to sell. All that stands in our way is that fractious name, tax offices, and uptight craft fair committees. I think we've got it figured out for the most part, and it's just a matter of tipping that first domino. I'll be sure to keep you posted, dear readers.

Other than that I cooked some Indian food, tested the four wheel drive, and washed my car for free.

Happy new year, rabbits.

Audio

2011-01-15T18:31:00.010-05:00

The dull thud, the distant crack of a bone, the visceral scream it produced. The subsequent sharp intakes of breath, the crunch of the snow beneath concerned boots as they jog toward him.
After enjoying a hunt in the the snow muted forest, now laying on its floor, the reassurances of his friends break through fog of pain. In the distance, sirens began to travel through the trees.
With the roar of the four wheel drive and the squeak of a struggling suspension, help arrives in the back of a truck. Radio chatter and loud questions were followed by his resignation to be treated.
The snip of shears through his jeans as they progressed to the wound, the low 'ooh,' emitted when they got there. A few more explanations, clicks of backboard straps, and the bouncing suspension was back, all eventually drowned out by the dull whir of helicopter blades.

Book Cover

2011-01-13T18:31:00.001-05:00

Before I got there, I chalked this sick person call at 2am up to relative nonesnese. And when we got there, my suspicians were initially confirmed when we found a hyperventilating woman who had...Okay, I'll stop. It's hard to describe how I think come calls are just not up to par. However I describe it on paper sounds absolutely awful, so I won't bother. And in this case, my initial feelings may have been based on my increased standards for a reasonable reason to call 911 after midnight than in daylight hours.
But in this case, despite my preexisting notions, as I looked a little closer, this patient was ashen, sweaty, and complainig of chest pain. She was clutching her chest so tightly that the cotton of her shirt was crushed into the shape of her fist. The sharp wrinkles lingered after she released her hand.
We got her into the ambulance and a quick 12 lead later we were on our way to the nearest interventional cath lab. The call went really well, and the patient ended up having a 45 minute door to balloon time. In a snowstorm!

Maybe it's a British Thing Pt. 10

2011-01-10T19:01:00.000-05:00

I was happy to end on part 9, but the other day, a thought popped into my head, and my last Coventry story begged to be told. On to an even 10!
My last British stereotype/perhaps actual real trait, is that of emotion. Or, the lack thereof. Good old 'stiff upper lip' and all that. Don't get panicked, or sad, or worried; wash it all down to an unreachable place with a cup of tea. Now, that sounds harsh! Everyone I met seemed perfectly normal, well adjusted, and happy to wear their hearts on their sleeves. Well, mostly. I think a lot of people are like me and play their emotions very close to the chest. Can't fault them for that.
The one time I felt the stiff upper lip attitude was when I found myself crying in public. Again.
After an amazing going away party hosted by the best friends I could have shared this whole experience with, I found myself faced with my last day in Coventry. It was much like any last day of higher education, strange, emotional, and difficult. Packing everything up and obsessing over the weight of my suitcases and backpack, cleaning the room, and handing in my key before I caught the train to London. For the first time, I felt an actual shift in my being when I handed in those keys. It was the first time I was keenly aware of being without any. I was not only then without home or vehicle, but for a moment, I felt naked and nervous, and at the same time, oh so free.
But, I digress. We went out to lunch and then everyone walked me to the train station to wave me off. It was quite emotional and although I am quite stoic, it was not without tears (which I think pleased them greatly, in a way).
I reluctantly boarded the train and stood in the doorway waving madly and shouting last good-byes to the sad and encouraging faces before me. Oh, and crying. In fact, probably drawing more attention to myself than I ever normally would. But, to be fair, two 50lb suitcases will do that, even to a non-crying person.
When the train doors finally shut, separating me from my farewell party, the silence was absolute in that car. It engulfed me as I felt pairs of eyes appraising me from over newspapers and ipods. The car was quite unfortunately far from empty and I scrambled to find a seat to hide from the other passengers who were now faced with an openly crying individual. The relative safety of my seat didn't help really as I silently wept half way to London- I just couldn't help it. With every calming broken breath or sniffle I felt the discomfort of everyone in the car in their loud page turning or throat clearing.

Okay, so maybe this isn't the greatest example. I think anyone would have been staring at the American making an idiot of herself, not just British people. On top of that I don't have a really good comparison story, as I am trying to cut down on my public crying these days.
Although, when I left for England 50 weeks earlier, crying, of course, and walking to the security line, one of the usually stony faced TSA guys asked if I was alright. "It's going to be a long trip," I replied.

Before you go, 2010

2010-12-31T18:19:00.002-05:00

Just a quick note to finish off a wonderful and strange year. Here's to more of them! 2010 was remarkable indeed for many reasons, but that doesn't mean I should stop looking toward the future. Though I temporarily lost my ability to think very far ahead, it's back and I firmly believe life needs wild ass plans. So, I intend to pursue the next one on my list. I think I've come up with a name for my little photography biz, but I'll have to confirm it with the board of directors. Ha! Agonizing over a name will probably be the least of my problems, as I have yet to sort out taxes, licenses, and other kind of important legal type stuff. All in good time.

Other than WAP#2, I have in general, resolved to hang out with the people who matter more. A year away made me appreciate the important people in my life. And although more than ever are at a distance, and making time for them is difficult in any life, I'm going to try to be a better communicator. The world is not so big that those who are far away should be neglected. As for those who are close, it should never feel like they are distant.

Exhilaration is always on my list, and in 2010 it was not in short supply. Maybe fewer scary crowds, but hopefully no fewer new experiences will come my way.

I also want to be as endeared to my home town, area, state, and country as I am to England. Domestic travel, participating in local events, and just plain going out are high on my list. I'm pretty stoked that some of that will combine resolutions which is just plain efficient.

The Bible, alas, has been neglected for another year and the good flashlight just got new batteries.

Also, I very tritely joined a gym last month, hope to finally read all those books I should have in high school, will write more, and I will try to stop ignoring calls from Austin. But, let's keep it tangible.

Repeat Customers

2010-12-27T21:45:00.000-05:00

Last week we arrived to a dark house with no sign of occupants. Dispatch decided to give us the code for the door after we started searching for a loose window or a weak door jam. The patient couldn't come to the door of course, mostly because she was behind two more doors and up steep stairs. Oh, and her lungs were full of fluid.
My partner and I carried her down the stairs and outside in time for more hands to arrive. She really had me worried for a second there. But, we got her on the good old CPAP and off we went to the hospital.
My next shift, I met her again, when I came up to our CCU to transfer her to another hospital for a heart cath. She was bright and had color and didn't remember me at all.
I said, "Well, you look much better than when I last saw you."
"Oh," she replied, putting her hand on her head, "well, I have my hair on today."
Although I meant she didn't look like she about to die, I loved how spry she was. We packed her up and she gave me a tour through the county as we headed to a fancy hospital who hopefully fixed her right up.

Later in the shift we went for a guy who had thrown up one time and his over excited wife had called us amidst his constant dissenting. He rightly refused to go and I agreed.
A few hours later, a call went out to the same address. In the exact same scenario, the patient resigned to going to the hospital, and off they went. I quietly celebrated that I didn't go the second time.

I did take the call the second time we were called to a very wee patient who was short of breath. The parents had refused transport in the afternoon, and called again at 3am. This time, I didn't let them refuse as one look at the patient made me pretty nervous. Very tiny airways, strange disease processes, retractions, mottling and a pulse ox in the gutter will do that to me.
We headed up to the local hospital for more hands, bright lights, and well...more hands. The patient was flown to a bigger hospital an hour later.

I love and hate to see patients twice.

New Post

2010-12-23T20:33:00.000-05:00

I was reminded yesterday by my one regular reader that I hadn't updated in a while. She expressed her disinterest in my feeble change in title picture.
Well. I should update as I've had some good days at work. Busy, anyway. All of the good calls come late at night. Like the young person who walked out to the ambulance at midnight, declared they had a UTI and then before saying hello, asked if we could arrange to take them home after their ER visit. Um...no.
The other morning at 3, we went to see a 19 year old who had chest pain. That's all I have to say about that.
Or, the patient who texted their significant other at 1am to tell them they had overdosed, when in fact, they hadn't taken anything at all. That was totally worth going to.
Okay, okay. This post is not following with my new world view of every call is worthwhile and interesting no matter what hour we are called. Something happened in their lives to prompt them to call an ambulance. Some circumstance out of their control or forethought lead them to be my patient. And even if it is for a few minutes, they'll get as many warm blankets as I can find.
And this whining certainly doesn't adhere to my resolution to not be negative about work. It is a sweet job and I am thrilled that I have nothing but pointless things to complain about. Well, and little things like nursing homes not having patient histories or not applying AEDs when wildly appropriate.

Work

2010-12-16T12:23:00.000-05:00

One year later I find myself again thrown into their weirdness of this job. We were called to a factory and half way to the patient, I looked down at my boots, wondering what I was stepping in. He had gotten his arm caught in a machine, and, although freed, one of his colleagues had agreed to show me the machine. Dodging puddles of ground meat and blood, he lead me to an industrial meat mixer which grabbed our patients fingers and twisted his arm until it broke. I felt bad for him as we took 10 minutes to carefully cut his many pairs of gloves he had on to protect him from the cold and meat to see just what we were dealing with. I used up all my Spanish and we had an easy ride to the hospital.
It was a wicked x-ray.

Transitions

2010-12-02T11:23:00.044-05:00

From Essouria, we headed North up the coast stopping in Casablanca to see the worlds tallest miranet on the worlds's third largest mosque. This was pretty cool, and is the only mosque non Islamics can visit, but we arrived too late in the day. The next day we continued to an overnight in Moulay Bousalhem where we took a fishing boat out to search for wild flamingos in the lagoon by our campsite. We did find some although, because the tide was going out we saw them from about half a mile away. Still, I guess they were flamingos (I can't be sure). It was great anyway, to be out on the water in this beautiful and tranquil area.
From there we traveled to Cap Spartel, home of 'Hercules cave' a cave where Hercules allegedly hung out to rest after carving the Mediterranean sea. There is a cool formation here that is almost the exact shape of the continent of Africa. We also walked to the beach and enjoyed our last afternoon there. In the evening we had a Moroccan barbecue and an enormous bonfire that probably endangered everything around us. It was an awesome party and a great way to end the trip.
Sadly, I had to get up really early to catch the ferry back to Spain. I was very glad that one guy in our group decided to take the same one and escort me back. The port was just as crazy on the way out, but I was still a little sad to leave such an amazing, colorful, and culture filled place.
We arrived back to Tarifa in the rain and here I learned the advantages of traveling with an older person. I would have trudged to the bus station, but he suggested a taxi and after about a second of consideration we agreed to split it. It was a dreary day, but as I reached Algercias to catch the train, things were looking up. It was a long ride to Grenada and I was very happy to find my hostel for the night. Here is where I appreciated flush toilets, hot water, hassle free shopping, and internet.

I really enjoyed my day in Grenada, starting with a walking tour that pointed out some of the highlights and complicated history of the city. I didn't get into the Alhambra, as you have to book in advance and it's pretty expensive, but saw it from the outside, and enjoyed shopping, eating local food, and visiting smaller sights just as much. In the evening I took an overnight train to Barcelona. Now, the plan I had to get home seemed good on paper, in practice though, it was not so smart. I took the train to Barcelona which ended up being in a non-reclining seat which really bummed me out. I arrived early in Barcelona and headed straight to Park Guell, an awesome place, but after a restless night and and walking there with my increasingly heavy backpack, I didn't find the tourists and annoying souvenir vendors charming at all.
I was desperate for a place to leave my bag, so I headed to the museum of Catalonia, hoping to check the bag and enjoy the museum. I finally arrived after walking ages and taking the metro, only to discover that it was a Monday, and every museum in the city was closed. I was super bummed about this and ended up sitting in the park, as it was a beautiful day, and people watching and reading my book. Not really a bad way to pass a day.

That evening, I went to the train station to take my overnight to Paris. I had waited all trip for this one, my first time in a proper sleeper car. Unfortunately, French transport were on strike and my train was canceled. Instead of a bottom bunk, romantically chugging through France, I found myself on a charter bus surrounded by kids and angry parents. Mood not improved.
It really wasn't as bad as it could have been with generous stops and a seat to myself. I arrived in Paris and decided to walk along the Seine to take in the sights. I stopped a few times on my way to the Grand Palaise where I wanted to see the temporaty Monet exhibit. I arrived around 1:15, very ready to see it and check my bag, and the guard informed me that that day only the museum would be closing at 2:00. Overcome with tiredness and disappointment, I didn't know what to do next. I sat down and collected my thoughts.
I ended up walking across the way to the Petit Palace where at least I could change my clothes and check my stupid, hateful, painful backpack which at that point I hated and wanted to light on fire. I was so tired by then that I went into on of their exhibits where they were showing a video, sat on the floor, and took a nap. I felt a real hobo by then.
In the evening I had dinner and then made my way to the train station to catch the Eurostar (which was running without delay, thank God) to get back to London. The border agency gave me some crap about not carrying my flight ticket out of the UK constantly on my person, but allowed me in anyway. Jerk.
When I arrived back in England, it felt as good as coming home, after a month of travel and uncertainty, it was so, so good to be back.

This story is going nowhere

2010-12-01T11:03:00.004-05:00

Many apologies to anyone who may be trying to make sense of the end of my trip. For reasons unknown I have been little inspired to finish writing it. Rather, I have had the best of intentions, but have been as easily distracted as if I were writing a coursework. Alas, I worry the magic of it all has been lost in sporatic storytelling. And even I can't remember if I've caught up to the getting home bit, it's become so long and sordid.

That aside, Essouria, Morocco is a very cool place. After leaving Marrakech, it was a relief to be camped out by the seaside within walking distance of a small port town full not of tourists, but real Moroccans. Wandering the streets here was actually calm and orderly and we were not constantly hounded to buy things. Except when some of us went to get freshly caught seafood and ran a literal gauntlet of vendors to pick the least annoying one to buy from.

Essouria is on the Moroccan Atlantic coast and is a working port town with a beautiful medina full of friendly people and shopkeepers. We also visited the port where you can buy fish straight out of the fishing boats. All varieties are displayed right on the slips, preserved with a constant sprinkling of seasalt. It is easy to find the port by following the horads of seagulls vying for an opportunity to relieve the fishermen of a fish or two. Locals are there haggling for fresh fish and carrying them home on bikes and donkeys.

We had the best meal at of the trip at a vegan/veggie resaraunt which initially worried me, given how I had avoided the water and fresh veggies, but it was awesome. It was good just to take the day to meander, finish shopping, eat crepes on the street, and relax. That's pretty much what we did the whole rest of the trip really.

The disadvantage of having a DSLR

2010-11-30T10:33:00.000-05:00

As far as I can tell, there's only one. Well, other than dropping the lens cap out the window on the highway.
In 2006, I saw KT Tunstall in concert and didn't bring my camera, assuming that I wouldn't be able to keep it, and taking public transport, there would be nowhere to put it without having to trust the venue. It turned out we stood three feet from her, could have had a camera, and had none. Oh well.
So, the boyfriend took me to see her again last week and I brought the fancy-cam, determined to get at least one good photo. At the door they checked in my bag and told me I couldn't take it in.
them: "That's a professional camera, I can't let you take it in."
me: "But, I'm not a professional."
them: "Yeah, but since that's a professional camera, we can check it or you can put it in your car."
me: "WTH?!....fine" (after some irrited sights and feeble protesting)

I found myself again three feet from the stage and cameraless. Even in protest I didn't bother taking one with my phone. It just wasn't worth it. So...maybe in another four years I can try again.
A-Mazing concert anyway, I'm afraid poor C didn't enjoy it much, but I did. Fab versions of her old stuff and a great selection of "New shit" as she put it. 'Twas a rocking show.

A 'Lively' Place

2010-11-16T11:16:00.002-05:00

I've described many towns and cities in my journal as 'lively.' It wasn't until I saw Marrakesh that I realized how when concerning any other place, just how pointless the word was. Marrakesh is hands down, the strangest, busiest, and most chaotic city I've ever been in. Describing it as lively would be the understatement of the century.
We arrived in the evening, settled into our riad and headed out into the Djemaa el-Fna, the central market. At night, the market becomes (even more) alive and a series of food stalls pop up as well as OJ stands, date sellers, fortune tellers, street performers, snake charmers, and all manner of people. Oh, and pickpockets too.
We ate dinner right in this night market which was very exciting for me, as it is very difficult not to feel like a tourist in Morocco, but this experience felt very real. We sat along a long row of tables, 24 of us squeezed into a table built for far fewer. It was a good dinner with plenty to eat, almost all of it recognizable. Toward the outside end of the table, there was a bit of a kerfuffle and I looked up to see one of the food stall workers who had a kid by the scruff of his neck and was giving him a serious pounding. At first I was horrified, but quickly learned that the cheeky kid had reached right in front of my friend and grabbed his camera. Unfortunately for him, he ran right into this guy who wasn't going to let him forget it. It was a briefly entertaining exchange then, but then mostly unnerving. As news spread down the table, every valuable was cinched more tightly around necks or stuffed into bras.
We wandered through the market after dinner, now more prepared for the chaos of it. We hit some of the market stalls, amazingly decorated with goods. I've never seen anything like it, and, like most of Morocco, is beyond my description. But, each of these stalls were absolutely packed with stuff, leather products, clothes, blankets, rugs, jewelry, antiques. I mean literally packed from floor to ceiling. This pic will help.
We had the next day free to explore. I tagged along with an American couple who had an interesting idea, as we found the nearest swank hotel, pretended we stayed there and hired a local guide from them to take us safely around the city.
This was a great idea that gave us some insight into the city and kept people from bothering us so much as we wandered through the souks. Our guide took us into Ben Youssef Madrasa, and old Islamic college which is full of fantastic carvings and mosaics. We also went into the Marrakech museum, a former palace, being converted into a museum. It is a beautiful venue and is full of antique Moroccan crafts, pottery and interesting photos of the old city. When we finished with history, we delved back into the market, wandering through the different areas. The souks are semi organized into districts according to what they sell- leather, lamps, food, spices. It was a bit tedious to ask every shopkeeper if I could take a picture of their shop, but it helped that the people I was with bought a lot of stuff.
We had lunch overlooking the square, the best way to observe the snake charmers and monkey handlers without having to pay for the privilege. We spent the rest of the afternoon ogling at the the market stalls and learning to be shrewd bargainers. The bargaining thing was really fun after a while, especially when observing a master. The evening was surprisingly relaxing, hanging out with the group in our riad. Everyone was tired after a day of constantly saying "No" in various levels of politeness. The next day we headed out of the city and to the calm and beautiful coastline.

The weirdness of being home

2010-11-15T11:13:00.000-05:00

It has been difficult to admit that after a year of planning and a year of execution that the wild-ass plan is sadly and officially over. Although I'm not there anymore, it will certainly remain a part of my everyday life and ongoing friendships.

I have had a definite reluctance to change my location on Facebook or the lappys clock back to EST. And, this past weekend I felt a near desperate desire to be back in England for the Harry Potter premier and all of the Coventry blitz anniversary happenings. Alas. At least I could catch the cathedral service on BBC radio.

I have a few residual quirks from being there. It's amazing the affect being on the other side of the road has on the psyche. I still inadvertently look the wrong way before crossing and have occasional flashes of panic as I pull out onto the 'correct' side of the road. I had happily forgotten all of the rage that driving sometimes fills me with, and failed to truly appreciate the tranquility of a complete reliance on human powered or public transportation this last year. Driving makes life expensive, but also makes it so much more accessible. It may be sad, but something I really missed was singing in the car, it is my therapy.
My vocabulary is still evolving and I have caught myself saying 'rubbish' or 'pavement.' I am just about sorted on my spelling, removing the extra 'u' from several words and embracing the 'z' again. Yeah, that's 'zee.'

I've just about caught up on all my favorite American eats, although I haven't been to Cracker Barrel yet, which is a real crime. Soon.

Being back at work sometimes has felt like I never left the friendly faces and familiar places. Time is a strange sensation as I have been slowly catching up with people there.
them: "Well, hey! I haven't seen you in a long time!"
me: "Yeah, um, it's been a little more than a year, I guess."
them: "Has it really been that long?!"

So, I'm hoping that life will begin to feel less surreal and I'll stop feeling like I either came from or have arrived in some kind of parallel universe. I take great comfort in that once I'm settled into my apartment and get the sads over not being in England, I can curl up with a Cadbury double-decker and a nice cuppa and begin to plan my next visit.

See? I'm even avoiding finishing this post as if it is the last time I can mention Coventry or England. Silly me. Even the blog knows my love affair with England is not over.

Sometimes, I believe them

2010-11-12T23:11:00.010-05:00

I finished up my 're-orientation' at work this week. It was altogether great to get back into it and catch up with work people. We ran a couple of 'good' calls and I feel pretty confident about heading back out on my own next week, I just won't know where I'm going, but that's nothing new. It's difficult to work where I don't live- street names and directions are never reinforced.
Anyway, we met up with a far away crew for a guy with chest pains. We got there, ready to believe that the call had been talked up by overexcited providers, but this patient really looked, if I can use the term, poorly. He was, pale, drenched in sweat, had truly crushing chest pain and was struggling with the EMT to keep the oxygen on his face while declaring that he was going to die. When certain patients say this, I believe them, as it is usually beyond theatrics, and I have heard too many stories of a patient saying they were going to die and then, well, they do.
So, we started IVs, did 12 leads, transmitted, gave nitro, aspirin, called command, started nitro paste, administered morphine, alerted the cath lab, and hoped that he wasn't right.
God, it was fun.

By George, a Gorge

2010-11-11T22:26:00.001-05:00

When we arrived at Todra Gorge, the sun had already set, but even so, a quick look around helped us realize we were in a unique place. When we looked up, the sky was again filled with stars, although the stars appeared to be blocked out except for a narrow strip above us. It was strange to realize that we were not staying at Todra Gorge, we were staying in it.
Our hotel was situated against one wall of the gorge and we slept on the roof which was wacky but fun. Laying on my back in my sleeping bag I looked up and followed the dark canyon wall as it rose a hundred feet in front of me. It was truly strange, but waking up to see where we were in the daylight was magic. The canyon's narrow passage passed in front of the hotel and stretched out on either side of us. Most simply, we were in a gorge and as the sun rose, it threw light on the dry, red walls of the canyon and was one of the most amazing places I've seen.
I was the only one of our group to take a trek through the gorge with a local Nomad guide. I thought for sure it would be canceled, but to my surprise, I went alone and hiked to the top of the gorge. It was a moderate hike and I felt truly out of shape when we reached the top and my guide, rather than taking even a sip of water, lit a cigarette and waited for me to take in the view.
"I am Nomad." he explained simply to my disbelief. He had walked these mountains his entire life, taking one more tourist up was as mundane as crossing the street to him. Luckily, I could use picture taking as an excuse to stop on the way up. It was truly beautiful. Unluckily, the pictures from that day now lay in picture purgatory on a hopelessly broken SD card. Oh well. (Please google 'todra gorge' so my meek explanations can make some sense)
We continued our hike to a visit with a Nomadic family. They made me thyme tea and talked for a while in their native Berber language. Their young son posed for me and smiled widely every time the camera pointed his way. He had seen tourists before. They let me snoop around their encampment and they showed me the caves they slept and cooked in. It was fascinating and exciting to see a people who still live in the traditional way. Well, mostly. When I asked where they got their food and meat, my guide simply said "They walk to the market in town." as if the answer were as plain as day. Simply walking into town seemed too obvious to me.
When we finished our tea, we headed back down into the gorge and eventually (after almost slipping down the loose rocks a few times) caught up with some of our group who had prepared all of us a lovely homemade lunch. Tagene again, but it was the best by far.
After lunch, in a lapse of rational thought I bought a small carpet from our host which, now that I didn't accidentally leave it on a train, I am very excited to have. But seriously, if anyone steps on it, I may kill them.
In the afternoon, we walked back to our hotel, led through the communal gardens in the middle of the gorge. The landscape makes a brilliant change from dry and hot to a literal oasis along the shores of the river in the canyon. This area is masterfully irrigated and full of greenery as well as pomegranate, almond, date, and olive trees. It was a pretty cool walk.
It became a lazy afternoon as we mostly rested and then watched a few of our group go rock climbing in the evening. This was fun, but made me nervous as the guy in charge set the anchor points, high up the wall without a rope. It was amazing to watch but made me want to call the local ambulance just in case. "Somebody bring the donkey!" Just kidding. Or, not.