Saving Lives
Background Information
In 1995, when I first became an EMT, my mother gave me a cross with the Star of Life medallion in the middle of it. You may have seen glimpses of it in a few videos. The cross has left my neck exactly once since it was given to me. I gave it to Pudding after September 11 as a sort of an engagement piece. Untraditional, I know, but it saw me through that horrible day, and had been blessed by Cardinal O’Connor of the New York Archdiocese back when I was more involved with the church, so it stood to reason that all it was through and the fact that it was given to me by my mother that it had both tremendous sentimental and luck value. Pudding wore it for about a year before taking it off, and when we split, I took it back. Since then, it has not left my neck and has seen me through the aftermath of my failed marriage, Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, Hurricane Rita in Texas, and just everyday being me.
However I no longer have that cross. DJ has it… it was placed around his neck for the wake and the closing… and it will be with him forever… hopefully protecting him as it had protected me. At least in theory.
So last night I decided to spend a few hours at The Hills on my regular Friday night overnight tour. For those of you who may not realize, The Hills is different from my day to day work because I basically set the pace of how much, or how little work I want to do. Over the last few weeks, ever since I found myself on the other side of a deathbed, just the thought of setting foot back onto an ambulance was enough to make me nauseous… literally. So I decided to do this in an attempt to work on my focus and take it slowly back. Of course, it wasn’t just KC and I like usual, The Terrorist rode along as a third both for the company and acting as a sort of safety net… just in case.
So last night I got there and was a little early. The Steff and The Donkey came by to drop some stuff off and to chit-chat. The Terrorist followed shortly thereafter, and KC was a few minutes late. Before we went out, they brought me into the office, and The Steff told me that if I remembered correctly that they still owed me a birthday gift, which I remember telling them I didn’t want anything but that’s really neither here nor there. So, in true Steff fashion, she whips out this purple glittery bag that just oozed 70’s disco. After ooohing and ahhhhing the bag, I took out its contents.
Wrapped in paw print tissue paper inside was a little blue box. I opened the box, and inside was a gold cross with the Star of Life medallion in the middle of it. Needless to say I was pretty speechless. See, I know the piece was discontinued in gold by the manufacturer back in 1999. This piece is custom made. It was custom made for me by them.
Sure, it hasn’t guided me through the rubble of 220 stories, walked with me through the flooded city, or been touched by a man once considered the next possible Pope… but I have no doubt that the love that forged it will protect me the same just as the original is undoubtedly protecting DJ.
categories: Personal The Steff Memories Saving Lives
No… really… I do. Why? Because I was sweating like a pig tonight all because someone didn’t take their anti-psychotics and… yeah… they went psycho.
I have one of the better Emotionally Disturbed Person (EDP) conversion rates in the borough. Generally I can crack the uncrackable and have them understand that they in fact NEED to go to the hospital so that force isn’t necessary. For some reason, those I work with think I might have majored in Psychology in college when in fact I majored in Film. I don’t think that those I work with understand that I can get into the heads of the EDPs and relate to them because I am, in fact, one of THEM.
Tonight’s call was a little harder. Okay… alot harder. She was small framed but stronger than Bill Goldberg. She had gone catatonic unless she was near a window, in which case she was trying to jump out of it. I got into her head for a few minutes… got her talking… got her up and walking… but then she went crashing down again in the hallway. So PD had to restrain her. She freaked. She ended up going out on the chair in cuffs and cravats. She made me sweat… all 100 lbs. soaking wet with a pocket full of quarters that she was.
Her mother was there… in fact that’s who she had been visiting when she had this episode. Her mother had no idea how sick her daughter was. She had no idea she was on anti-depressants, anti-psychotics, and bed time tranquilizers. I wonder if the daughter really did keep it a secret, or if the mother was in denial. We didn’t even realize the extent of the meds she was on until we got her to the hospital.
The mother had to watch as we restrained her to the chair and hear her cries for help. Then the stretcher in the ambulance when her daughter cried, I let her mother hold her hand. The mother had to watch as the hospital staff restrained her daughter to the hospital bed. The mother had to watch as the nurse came with the needle. The mother had to hear her daughter cry for help from her as the needle went into her arm. The mother had to watch as her daughter was snowballed into semi-consciousness. Then, the mother cried as her daughter slipped away from her behind the doors into the locked ward where the sound of howling was coming from.
As a parent, it is undoubtedly one of the most horrifying things you can ever go through. The inability to make the world right for your child. As a person it has to be the worst thing in the world. To have your freedom and ability to reason taken from you.
The entire time, all I could think was, “At least she isn’t spitting.”
Now I stink.
I’ve been sleeping alot lately again. Granted, my work schedule hasn’t been the stablest, but I’m still sleeping more than I should be.
There’s a new boss at work. He has quite literally been there since Monday, and I’ve yet to be introduced to him officially although I was in two meetings with him. He already has a nickname… RoboCop. He got that from the way that he walks. I’m still undecided… but I get the feeling that he will in fact be just like all the other corporate mongers. Time will tell.
Yesterday I did have a meeting for the shows coming up this season on the Island of Misfit Toys. Last season was pretty good… and this year looks pretty damn good too. Of course, they are saying this may be the last year since the city wants to build a waterpark on the island. They’ve been saying this for a few years now… but this time they might actually be telling the truth since the funding is in the budget for next year. It looks like it’s going to be a busy summer.
Wednesday night I was elected to the Chief Operating Officer position at The Hills. I actually had been on the ballot unopposed… but I did try to talk some people into voting for Mickey Mouse. Unfortunately, the write in campaign didn’t work. So there’ll be more work for me to do. My two saving graces over there though is that I can appoint The Steff to the Quality Assurance Committee which means I really don’t have to worry about that pile of paperwork because she’s awesome at it, and I don’t have to worry about scheduling because I know KC will be ontop of that with his unearthly charisma. Of course, that leaves dispatching, driver training, crew chief training, Standard Operating Procedures, and a bunch of meetings for me to deal with monthly. Joy.
Sounds like it’s going to be a busy summer right? Add on the fact that this year’s Hurricane Season is expected to be similar to 2005, and we have a formula rich for disaster.
I can’t wait. 
categories: It's All About Me Cereal Wednesday Giving Cab Rides Saving Lives
I would be remiss if I did not mention that this week is EMS Week. So in honor of that here is a video on the History Of The Medic…
Want to download the video? You can get the WMV version here.
Feel all edjumicated and stuff now don’t you? Good. So the next idiot who thinks we’re “ambulance drivers” is gonna get it… 
First night out in The Hills with KC behind the wheel and the new New Guy at Dunkin’ Donuts.
One word on the ice coffees last night.
Amazing.
So it has been said. So it shall be written. So it shall be done.
Killer Smorgashboard tomorrow.
