A Work in Progress

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 shou...

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...

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. 

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...

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 Tu...

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...

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 ...

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 ...

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 ne...

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 ...

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,...

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 ...

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 ...

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. T...

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 g...

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.

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...

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 diff...

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 ...

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 ...