Retirement???

Ok.  I get it.  I’ve been out for a bit and you all miss my cheery and insightful words.  I let you follow me as I tried to put a human face on what is not a normal job.  And speaking of the job, it took me decades to realize I was anything special.  You know what?

Beauty From Pain Reloaded

photo from emt.com

If you caught the first comment on Beauty From Pain, I hope you will see that it was written to put a face on the often faceless.  To put a heart in an often ignominious picture  of some ignominious stud or studette with some awesome glorious fire in the background.  Makes it look pretty awesome, right?  But we know the truth.  It is really some guy or gal doing what others can’t or won’t.  They chose to be there.  Wish I had a grasp of what makes us do what we do. 

Brotherhood

 

Sorry it’s been such a spell.  I know you are all hanging on every word to dribble out of my face hole and onto my keyboard.

Prepare for dribble.

I hope some of you have liked the little Latin notes that appear from time to time.  If you get any others, please share them.  I have mentioned more than once our fine sister firefighters.  In fact one of the finest FF I have ever worked with was a female.  I’m 6’5’’ and 240 lbs.  My wife was somewhat concerned that she might not be able to pull me out.  I can assure you, what she lacked in weight and strength, she more than made up for in skill and determination.  She would NEVER leave a fellow behind.  I consider myself honored to have worked with her.  Beck’s, this is a shout out to you.

Beauty From Pain

I promised at the beginning that I would keep this family friendly.  That will remain the case, and I have purposely kept things as l light as possible, and that shall remain the case.

Let’s face some hard facts, though.  What we do is ugly and often tragic.  How many out there really know what we do?  Do they understand why we wake up to phantom pages, in my case even driving to the station?  Raise your hand if you’ve done that one.  Who understands why we end up curled up on the floor or have smells or sights that bring back the uglies?

We all have our stories and I make an honest effort to keep it as such.  But this is for the families of those we left behind.  It is also for those that have been down on us as a profession.

Let’s put a face on our job.  Not a badge, not a helmet, not the sexy men and women on the calendar (Mr. July here).  But a real human face.

When asked how and why I kept doing this job, these are a few of the reasons.  I can see through the ugly and the pain and see the beauty and dignity.

What started out as a beautiful day in the summer remained so, weather wise,  No so for the fine citizens of our fair burg.  At noon we ran a fatal choking.  22 year old female.  Just after getting the paperwork done, we get called to a rollover MVA ,unknown number of patients.  The scene was apocalyptic. It was as if you had taken a bunch of nice people and nice cars, put them in some cartoonish blender, an ACME, like Mr. Coyote would use for that infernal bird, then stuffed it all in some huge circus cannon and blew it out over a few hundred square yards.  Cars, people, parts of cars, parts of people.  Not unknown patients.  9 patients.  We lost 4.  Not a great day.

And as is my right to do, I shall go off for a minute.  Like I said, get yer own blog and you can go off all you like.  My ex-wife was an ER nurse.  I worked closely with all ER personnel shoulder to shoulder, and then as a medical officer, all the other interaction.  I have the utmost respect for them and the job they do.  But here is the thing.  When I would deliver a patient to the ER, they got a patient that was stable, splinted if necessary, airway if necessary, bleeding controlled, full c-spine, vitals, history, MOI, IV, etc.  It is a whole other world to see this in situ.  I have always and will always, encourage, all ED personnel to spend as many hours in the field as possible.  Not better, not a competition, just an eye opener.

We made it through the night, mostly.  At 0630 a call came in.  MVA, multiple vehicles, unknown patients.  We roll up and find a car that had been t-boned by some old heavy metal, had lifted off the ground and spun through the air, landing upright on all four tires, a conservative 150’ away, in the middle of a new crop.  On arrival, we found two 17 year old female patients.  They looked like they had just been knocked 150’.  Car was destroyed, extrication gear had to be deployed, but had to be hauled out.  No time.  Doors were ripped off by hinges, bodily.  I ended up leaning through the front missing windscreen and holding an airway open and providing c-spine protection as my partner did a surgical airway on her.  We got the tube in and got her and her friend loaded into the helos for trans.  On RTB, I made a call to the U.  She of course could tell us nothing, due to HIPA, even though I was an officer and known to her.  Sad.  She died on the table.  17 years old, whole life ahead of her, and in a split second, gone.

I mentioned beauty out of pain.  In this little girl’s last moments, she was not alone.  She did not die in a cold cocoon of twisted steel and plastic.  She died in the hands and the care or real caring, real people.  Not cold, uncaring professionals.  She died in the hands of humans with warmth and compassion.

Beauty from pain.

I will only bore you with one more.  A 6 year old that died at the hands of those in whom his delicate life had been trusted.  In the worst way.  My patient.  My call.  My little boy.  He died.  Later, a good friend told me of the kindness that happened to him when he had his first son.  A nice woman came in and gave him a blanket.  It was given on the anniversary of her grandsons’ death.  We’re standing in the kitchen having a beer and we both start getting chills.  More questions.  More confirmation.  My Godson received the blanket made in honor of the child that was my patient.

Beauty from pain.

We all have our own stories.  But each is a side of humanity.  Each of our careers, ours.  Our lives?  Ours.  We hurt.  We live.  We love.  We cry.  We are the faces that reach out to take your hand as it gropes for help in the darkness.  We are human.  These things we choose.  These things we do.  This is our choice so that others may live.

canis ignis   

Response to What If You Are Taken Off Duty By an Off Duty Incident

This is in response to a blog by one of our brothers that was injured off duty.  Under normal conditions, I would simply offer a comment or let others do so.  But I think this is far more reaching, than would be justified by a normal comment.

Lets give it a shot.

What if you’re taken out of duty for things that happened off duty?

For over a year I’ve been getting around in a wheelchair and later progressing to a walker, crutches, and cane. When I’m sporting a fire shirt onlookers seem to correlate the two. When a conversation ensues I often sense a feeling of universal disappointment when I admit this happened to me recreationally – because of my own choices.

I wish that weren’t the case. I wish my injuries somehow happened for the good of others. I wish I broke my leg so someone else didn’t have to break there’s.

How does one reconcile the loss of a passion, camaraderie, and a career with a desire to remain a part of that group. Do you simply proceed to the exit and fade into obscurity?
I would love nothing more than to suit up again, hit the ground, and swing a tool with my bros. Right now other things take precedence though. Like, how am I going to get groceries with both hands committed to crutches or how am I going to get my shoes on if I’m unable to reach my feet.

We are told that these are the times that test us – the times that reveal our true character. That idea, and the myriad quotes about staying positive do nothing to make this easier. I can only guarantee one thing – I will not give up.

The Best Partner That Never Was

We have all had crews, partners, supervisors, ride alongs.  Many are worth forgetting, some are not.  This is about the best partner that never was.

It goes down like this.  Long, Long ago, in an agency far, far away, was this Dude.  You can see him here.  Here he is two years into a 27 year total career.  Notice how young and scrawny he looks?  He’s 6’5” here, and only about 200lb.  Maybe.  But just so you know he doesn’t go out scrawny, at the time of his separation he was nearly 240lbs and about 8-10% body fat.  His interests include forcible entry, vehicle extrication, high angle and confined space.  Don’t tell his chief, but he preferred ripping and buckling doors off their hinges to legitimate extrication tools. And a proper application of weight and innate desire to punish inanimate objects with his body, than proper tools.  Mommy issues?  A knee to a door is more fun that a Halligan.  A gloved fist more handy than getting the ax that was within reach.  Oh.  Forget about the Chief.  Statute of limitations and all?

Legacy of a Smokejumper

If you got a chance to read the previous post about Why Do You Do What You Do,  you may not have caught the significance of the pictures used. (Ask about the significance of the flamingos one day.  A great story on its own.) One is a structure guy, one is a former HOTSHOT and a current SMOKEJUMPER. An Engine and a Parachute, their chosen means of travel to the JOB.

Why do YOU do it?

Why did I do it?  Seriously?  Have you seen the Engines with the Detroit 8v92 TA?  The Cummins N14?  The 5 and 6 speed electronically controlled transmission?  We had a unique Engine on one agency.  The first, and to my knowledge, the only Class 1 Becker 4×4.  It’s not a typical arrangement.  There is no transfer case.  The front end is driven by a drive shaft off the rear differential. It is simply engaged by an air actuator.  For a gearhead like me, it was heaven.  I’ve drifted an engine through a intersection and managed 65 mph down a highway on Christmas Morning.  No need to take issue, I’m a trained profession under closely controlled conditions.  Even the ladies will confess how great it is to drive fast, put the wet stuff on the hot stuff and leave the place a mess.  Can I get an amen!

Mementos of a Career Too Short

I loved fire.  Over the years I’ve collected some interesting bits. Here are a few.  Most of them should be easily recognized. A couple a bit obscure.  I’d love to see pics of yours and comment.

The first one is a life chosen.  It comes from a verse in the bible.  King James to be precise.  John15:13. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends”.