If you have time to burn...

Then you should check out these sites!

First off, lets start out with one of my personal favorites; http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/

This site is dedicated to 'wal-creatures' meaning people that dress completely and totally bizarre and make us laugh. It's cruel- but funny. And sadly, I like that kind of stuff.



I found this site yesterday thanks to one of my readers! http://www.streetanatomy.com/
This site is weird, let me put it to you that way, and it has alot of cool stuff tied into it. The photo (seen left) was pulled from it. The photo itself is of Chinese organ donation. This site features artwork, medical photography and even clothing- check it out, it's really cool!

The next site that I absolutely love is www.autocompleteme.com. It's a funny google search site that features funny searches seen on google. Some of the photos have been shown on other sites, but are finally all together in one location for your viewing pleasure.

One of my personal favorites is www.textsfromlastnight.com. It's hilarious. The slogan is 'remember that text you shouldn't've sent? We do.' It features text messages sent by people around the world. You can even search your area code and state to see the madness that occurs around you. Being a medical professional it's even more hilarious! Enjoy it!

Everyone hates family photos. Everyone thinks they look bad in family portraits. Think again! At www.awkwardfamilyphotos.com you can see what others family photos look like and feel better about yourself instantly! They feature the bad, the worst, and the ugliest things imaginable!

Any other great sites out there that I missed? Send me a comment and let me know- suggestions are always welcome!

Meaningful Music

My mother has played piano my whole life for our church. My father is a music junkie and has great taste- raising us on everything from Ozzy to the Osmond's, from the Hootie and the Blowfish to Van Halen. My grandmother was an Opera singer for years and years. Music is a major part of my life.

My drive to work is anywhere from 30-45 minutes. It's a rather long drive and I pass 7 other hospitals on the way just to get to the best one in the state. As I drive I listen to a play list titled 'Ultimate EMT Play list.' Knowing that we always need inspiration I thought it would be best to share what inspires me and why.

I hope you take the time to listen to each song if you haven't already. All the music can be listened to for free on www.playlist.com or purchased on Itunes.

How to Save a Life - The Piano Tribute Players

Anyone who has heard the original version of this song done by 'The Fray' knows why this song is a favorite and the first on the list. This version is done completely on piano and has even more emotion. This is the first song I hear when I get in the car, it helps me feel stronger. It's a longer track, but it is completely worth it.

Sky - Joshua Radin

This was a song I found in a closing scene of Grey's Anatomy- after a long hard day and loosing patients the characters still had their family, friends and colleagues. The lyrics remind me that whatever happens, I'll have people there at the end of the night. Whether it be my fiance who I can call and vent to, whether it be the nurses who will offer a shoulder to cry on or my readers, who help, simply by arriving on the blog.

Broken (Original Version) - Lifehouse

There are two versions of this song- the new/radio version is much more popular but has little to none of the emotion that this version has. I have both and prefer this one when using it as an EMT song. The tone of the song and the way they created the music to collide with the lyrics is beautiful- and the lyrics are so powerful and have brought tears to my eyes many nights.

'I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing.
With a broken heart, that's still beating.
In the pain, There is healing.
In your name, I find meaning.
So I'm holding on (I'm holding on)
Barely holding on to you...
I'm hanging on another day,
Just to see what you will throw my way...
You said that I will, will be okay.
The broken light on the freeway, left me here alone.
I may have lost my way now,
Haven't forgotten my way home.'

Never Let Go - Bryan Adams

This song was played for me by my first partner the day before my grandfather and my best friend died. It was supposed to simply inspire me for state competition- but instead this song changed my world. If you recognize this song, its most likely because this is the song from the movie, 'The Guardian'. It's the most fitting song for medical professionals- and the lyrics say it all.

'Can you lay your life down, so a stranger can live?
Can you take what you need, but take less than you give?
Could you close every day without the glory and fame?
Could you hold your head high, when no one knows your name?
That's how legends are made, at least that's what they say.
We say goodbye, but never let go. We live, we die, Cause we can't save every soul.
Gotta take every chance to, show that your the kind of man who
Will never look back, never look down, never let go.'

Into the Fire - Thirteen Senses

This is another Grey's song- it is played in the first episode of the series. As Meredith Grey scrubs into surgery she says 'I can quit. I can think of 1,000 reasons to quit and not one reason to stay, but here's the thing- I love the rush.' When I took an EMS refresher course I played this song before every test and I felt unstoppable. This is a strong song, and I encourage all of you to watch that first episode just for this song alone so that you can get the full feeling to it.

Life is Beautiful - Vega 4

Are you shocked to know this is another Grey's song? The writers of this show have done an excellent job in choosing music. In this episode (Season 3) a patient burned herself on purpose to avoid taking a test and it was up to Izzie to tell her to ask for help. The patient freaked out, yelling 'I'm not crazy!' To which Izzie replies 'No, your not, but you need help. You need someone to help take care of you.' This song was also used as a commercial for 'My Sisters Keeper'. This song also has such amazing lyrics- even if the song is exceptionally long!

'Life is beautiful. We love until we die...
Life is beautiful but its complicated. We barely make it.
We don't need to understand, there are miracles, miracles.
Yeah, Life is beautiful, our hearts they beat and break...
It's amazing where I'm standing, there's a lot that we can give.
This is ours just for a moment, There's alot that we can give.'

Breathe (2 AM) - Anna Nalick

One night I drove home from the hospital- tears burning my cheeks as they fell. I sniffed and whimpered and drove, fighting to just get some music on to distract me. Work had been that bad- and I don't remember why- but I do remember hearing these lyrics and feeling the emotion and the lyrics' truth.

'Cause you can't jump the tracks, we're like cars on the cable.
And life's like an hourglass glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button boys,
So cradle your head in your hands,
And Breathe...Just Breathe.'

Shine Your Light - Robbie Robertson

I'm sure all of you have heard this song, if not- you best get to it. This song was on 'Ladder 49' in the closing scene- and made me bawl like a baby the first time I heard it. I absolutely love this song and on my weird shifts I love driving home to this song, looking up to the stars and simply absorbing the music. This song is definitely one all medical professionals need to hear.

'The cry of the city, like a sirens song,
Wailing over the rooftops the whole night long,
Saw a shooting star, like a diamond in the sky,
Must be someones soul, passing by...
Shine your light, Down on Me,
Lift me up, So I can see, (Ooh)
Shine your light, When your gone,
Give me the strength to Carry on, (Carry on).'

Where I Stood - Missy Higgins

Only one episode of Grey's Anatomy has ever made me cry- and that was in Season 4 when two ambulances collided and left two paramedics hanging upside down. They knew one of them wasn't going to make it and they called his wife. As his wife came to see her dying husband Meredith looks at the Chief and he tells her ' That's the job.' She sighs and repeats it. He places his hands on her hips and tells her, 'That's the job. This day, this day you feel helpless. This day makes all those other days where you fight to save a life and loose. You take it in.'

Kristy, Are you doing OK? - The Offspring

Life was tough, it was cold and icy. January. School was unforgiving and life was even more unbearable. I had no place to live and my car was breaking down. As I pulled into the school parking lot I paused and listened to the radio when this song came on. I felt like The Offspring were talking to me with their short chorus. Two weeks later I found a place, got a second job and fixed my beat up old car- it's the song I play on my bad days when I need that pick-me-up.

'Can you stay strong, Can you go on?
Kristy, Are you doing OK?
A rose that won't bloom, Winter's kept you,
Don't waste your whole life trying,
To get back whats been taken away.'

Address in the Stars - Caitlin and Will

Anyone who has lost someone will be touched by this song. This song has almost nothing to do with EMS, but at the same time everything to do with it. To do this job we have to believe in something. We have to have some sort of faith and this song is the one that helps me remember my beliefs, my faiths and my understandings of the unknown.
It's a song about being left behind after someone you love passes away. She musicians did such an amazing job vocally and on the music video. It's a beautiful song that I hope you all take a moment to listen to- with tissues! I cry almost every time!

How to Save a Life - The Fray

My play list ends the way it begins- with the same song but with lyrics. The Fray does such a great job with their vocals on this song and adds so much inspiration and emotion. By this point I am sitting in the parking lot at work, staring at the building. As I pack up my belongings I smile, because I know 'how to save a life.'

'Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend.
Somewhere alone in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night,
Had I known how to save a life.'

Rest and Relaxation

We go into medicine because we have a drive to help people. Whether it be clinical or personal we like people, we want to fix people, we want to make a difference. We choose our field depending on the level of help we want to give. Surgeons want to be god but not have to deal with the people problems, they are glorified mechanics. Nurses like to help people, and all willing to deal with any and all of the shit thats thrown their way- patients are worth it.

Problem is that we are far too busy fixing others that we take a moment to fix ourselves. We don't eat well, sleep well or exercise as often as we need to. We eat junk food and take hour long naps instead of a decent nights sleep. Our bodies learn to adapt, but we wear down quicker- before we know it, we are the patient.

Being the patient isn't as bad as we make it out to be. There isn't much to do, and any medical professional will be the first to tell you that it gets old quick. You take your meds, read, eat, potty, and sleep. Movies and television become a bore, and errands seem fun for the first time in years, because its something to do. But during all the boring crap and tedious tasks you finally get to rest.

We need the rest. We need the time to recuperate. We need to care for ourselves so we can fully help others and be the healers we want to be.

During all of this I have been pushing it. I have been folding clothes when I shouldn't be, moving large boxes and trying so hard to be productive. During times when I am not in recovery from a shoulder surgery I am a hard-working non-stop go-getter, so lying on my butt all day watching Scrubs and playing Halo 3 is killing me. As I lay there, resting I see the piles of laundry and sit there, wanting to do it, so I do. I know I shouldn't- I totally know I shouldn't- but I don't feel like I should rest like I need to- its foreign to me.

Finally I got a chewing out to end all chewing outs by my fiance. I had kicked around a heavy box that held a safe and got it set up. I didn't use my left arm at all, but it still was way too heavy for me. That day I had also done some laundry and cleaned up the apartment- and that night I lay in tears from the terrible pain. I knew i overdid it so I kept quiet- I did this to myself after all.

"NO!" He said as I tried to move a laundry basket. I crawled into bed and sighed, feeling useless yet again. Luckily, Bubba is very helpful and doesn't complain about helping me out. He opens all the doors, carries anything that needs to be carried and even helps me get my seatbelt on in the car (if you saw the size of my brace you would understand- I can't see two feet in front of me because of it!). He sat down next to me, wrapping his arms around me. "Dani." He started. "You need to rest. You need to relax. This is your time to heal- and you can't screw that up." I sighed- he was right but I didn't want to admit it. "I have no issues taking care of you, so please, just let me."

So I'm trying to do the one thing I have never done before- rest. All my life I have been a stubborn Aries and that is kicking my butt now because for the first time I have to take a vacation from life. Something I have never done, and am hoping is easy for me to do- however, its not looking like it will be.

The surgical site is healing well, some of the incisions don't even look like incisions! Only two are left covered by band-aids because they have a scab on them. I am really glad to see how well they are healing and excited to get more PT done. So far I am doing really good and behaving in that sense- and I can't wait for the surgeon to 'ok' me to get back to daily life...but that won't be til January 5th!

(Luckily my friend gets home from Iraq this week and Bubba's done with the first half of school- which means at least I'll have friends to play Halo 3 with!)

Until then, I suggest we all try to rest. If working your ass off isn't enough, imagine doing it during the holidays. Let's all try to take a day off- I know it's tough, but it's something everyone needs.

Another Update

Hey there, I know its been a little bit since I've had a decent post, and for that I apologize. Lately its been boring. I figured I would at least answer the questions I have been getting from my readers - How am I doing? I was shocked to see e-mails pouring in from some of my readers wanting to know how things are doing surgery wise. I figured I had bored all y'all to death and when numerous IM's came in I was really thrown for a loop. First off, thanks. It means alot to me.

My shoulder is stiff, but it doesn't necessarily hurt. Pain, there is little to none. If I sit in the sling too long or don't do my PT every so many hours I hurt, but it's like the pain you get after a good workout. Everyone seems to be shocked I'm only on Tylenol, but it works for me. As for PT I have Bubba help with my arm lifts to 90 degrees, its my favorite, it feels SO GOOD! Then I can let my arm hang and do circles 2-3 times a day. That works out nicely because it helps with loosening up my arm. Dressing and undressing has gotten easier. I still need an incredible amount of help with nearly everything- but I'm getting better.

However I miss my job. I miss doing things every day. My life consists of sleeping, getting up to take pain meds and do PT, and either watching movies or playing video games. As much as I thought I would love it, I actually hate it. The Christmas presents can't be wrapped, the apartment can't be cleaned, and more than anything, I have become the patient. The helpless feeling sucks.

The thing about the job we do is that we take it away from ourselves. As I'm stuck hanging out I'm trying to think of ways to save the world and feel like crap that I can't. I wonder how I can make a difference, how I can further myself in life, how can I make that difference I always wanted to. We take these things for granted, the ability to comb our own hair, or even lift a bottle of water to our lips. The ability to sleep on our sides or stomach, and the ability to cut our own meat. I'm an over sized two-year-old- but I'm catching on to how the patients may be feeling.

I would never wish this on anybody, but I wish I could explain the eye-opening experience this has been for me. When the medications made me ill and dehydrated, I knew what would happen, but I was still scared to death. When the chief anesthesiologist couldn't get a vein on me, I knew what it meant, but it still hurt, and still worried me. They explained everything I didn't understand well, but I still worried about what they didn't explain to me. Feeling helpless, I worry about being a burden to others. I hate asking for help when it comes time to shower or when I need my hair placed in a ponytail, because I know it's a huge favor to ask. My incisions look good from a medical standpoint, but I still worry that I am not paying enough attention. Could they be infected? Did the steri-strips fall off too soon? Suddenly I realize what my patients are thinking, worrying and wondering about.
It's a mind boggling experience, but an eye opener everyone should have at least once in their lives. I just hope that they can learn from my experience, not their own.

Until then, BSI!

Level 6.2 Care

EMS 2.0 is taking off in an amazing whirlwind around the medic blogospheres. It's amazing how a simple idea is going above and beyond. I have loved reading about this great idea and about how we as EMT's plan to change health care for the better.

The CEO of my hospital sends out many e-mails, most of which I don't read. I must have been exceptionally bored or in a go-getter mood because I read one of them today that talked about level 5 care in a hospital setting. All I could think about was 'what on earth is level 5 care supposed to mean?' and 'I thought we were a level 1 trauma center- is level 5 care good or bad!?' So I did some research in and around all the hospitals in my state. The scale is 1-5, the lower your score the worse you are. Aiming for level 5 is aiming for the highest. This got me thinking.

During nurses week we had a comment on our poster that said 'thanks for the level 5 care.' Another scribbled message said 'enough of this level 5 crap- I got level 6.2 care here!'
That poster is still sitting in the hallway, staring us down, reminding us why we do what we do. I have no idea what level 6.2 means, but it's much better than level 5!

So folks, I am issuing another challenge to us all. Let's all give level 6.2 care.

The standards that all the hospitals I looked up had in common were:

1. Compassion: As stated in yesterdays post, I am the first to admit that sometimes I am not as compassionate as I need or want to be. Let's all try to genuinely listen to our patients, knowing that everyone lies, but acting towards them as if this rule never existed. Synonyms of the word compassion are; sympathy, empathy, heartfelt and caring. All traits we should work on.

2.Responsibility: Being on the bottom of the food chain is easy. Being at the top is hard. Either way we are loaded with responsibilities for another human life, and sometimes its a life we aren't fond of. It's easy to love your child and care for them, but it is very hard to have a psych patient and keep calm around them. Stepping up is the hardest, biggest thing any of us in a hospital can do, and its a rare occurrence when anyone does it. I personally am vowing to always do my glucometer checks, fridge checks and take the equipment out of the rooms on Friday nights, even though that's not my job to do.

3.Diversity: Everywhere I go there is little to no diversity. I live in a VERY white state, and I am not just talking about snow and minerals here, I mean to tell you that in my high school there were roughly 2500 students. 300 were Hispanic and 5 were African American. That leaves 2295 white kids. Diversity comes in many different packages, in skin color, in religion, in political beliefs and so many other ways. It wasn't until I got my second job that I got to dealing with different kinds of people. Until then I had never met anyone who spoke Somalian, Iranian, dialects of Chinese and heaven only knows how many other languages. I had never seen anyone wear a turban in real life and thought that I would see so many different forms of religion through clothing choices. Each day I see and learn more and more about the world I live in, but I cannot become a better health care professional if I don't try to learn. Let's all try to talk to our patients about their lives, their beliefs and themselves, which will not only lead to better care, but more comfortable relationships with their caregivers.

4.Quality: When we play the alphabet game we always look for this word, and are always so sadly disappointed when it becomes a hard word to find. It's a hard word to find because its a rare thing for anyone to have or to give. Quality. We work in a devastating field. People who should live, die. Children get incurable diseases. Families are torn apart. We see this happening right before our eyes, so who am I to ask you to give more quality of care? I know I'm asking for alot. But the patients deserve it.
Whether it be giving a patient an extra can of soda, or taking five minutes to help them apply some lotion to their back, the little things are the things that our patients like the most. I am vowing to take 5 minutes of free time on shift to spend with each patient, talking with them, fetching them odds and ends, even straightening up their rooms for them. I am vowing to hold more hands, pass more tissues, sit at more bedsides and to listen to more stories. If I was a patient that person would be a quality aide, and that is who I want to become.

5.Trust: We work with them from anywhere between 4-16 hours. We may or may not see them again the next shift we have. There is no consistency in the hospital, but we can still gain trust with a patient. Trust is an incredibly hard thing to gain, the world is full of mean, horrible people and whats worse, the media makes doctors, nurses, even aides out to be the bad guys. In television shows the nurses are the mean grumpy ones, the aides are ditzy and worthless. We need to fight barriers to gain a patients trust. I have no idea, no advice and no words of wisdom as to how to accomplish this, I just hope that as level 6.2. care givers we can.

I am taking a vow to be a better caregiver and to do a better job. To focus more on my patients and to see what we can do to not only save a life, but to change a life.

If you're with me, leave me a comment and set yourself a goal as well. We may be thousands of miles apart, but that doesn't mean that we can make a difference inside the hospital while these Paramedics are making a difference on the streets.

My 100th Post

When I started this blog people told me it wouldn't work. I got the idea from a friend, who worked in an ER and as an EMT on the weekends, I planned to be him by this point so I started one too. The only person who supported it and read it was my fiance.

He sent the word out, having family and friends read it. I browsed other sites, trying to make a name for myself- big or small. Each day I would check and each day would bring a smile as I would exclaim 'look hun! I got a hit from England!' or 'Baby! I got three hits yesterday!' My fiance would chuckle and read the blog, finishing each post with a nod of approval or a comment about the situations. My one support system became the one I needed most.

The last six months this blog has been the best thing for the stresses and woes of my life. I have been able to write about the joys of being engaged, life at the job, the stress of my surgery and my fiance going to POST. It was a place I could vent if needs be- it was my place.
Thing that shocked me was- I wasn't used to people actually reading it! As people would post comments and requests I felt as if maybe, someday, somehow my writing could be read and make a difference. What was once a sad dream is now a hope.

I've grown up a lot in this blog, mentally, emotionally, physically and know its for the best. Life has happened, its just what it does. And with the ability to have this creative outlet I know it is for the best. Everyone has a friend at work they can bitch to about anything, well I don't. I have this blog- and frankly I am okay with it- because I don't do the petty bitching about a patient who needs to pee every thirty minutes- I bitch about aides who probably shouldn't be certified or helping a cop take down an escaped prisoner for patient.

For my 100th post I wanted to thank my wonderful fiance. He is my best friend and the love of my life. He is a wonderful man who is so set to make it to his dreams he has created a beautiful future for us both on the way. He is a hard-working, caring individual who I can no longer live without. He supports me when I need it- he stands by me when I don't. He is the guy who keeps pushing me to write- even when I have no idea what I am going to write about. He is the one who jokes about my future as a Paramedic- and how we have to work in the same city so we can enjoy our jobs that much better. He is the guy who stays up late researching my surgery recovery information-because he wants to make sure I don't bend or break the rules. He is the guy who makes it to every doctors apt and helps me with my creative writing homework when I am stuck. He is the guy I stay up late with- helping memorize defensive tactic flashcards. He is the guy I am going to marry.

I love you hun. Thank you for all you do. You rock my world!

CNA School

Trying to find an old CD with inspirational EMT tunes I discovered something better- the powerpoint DVD from my CNA school and the photos are EMBARASSING! Folks. I look like I am ten years old!

So, for my horror and your pleasure I have decided to post them.

First day of class, nervous, worried, scared. I am 15 in this picture. Everyone
else is 17 -18 years old, and I found that out just before my teacher snapped
the photo- so that nervous smile is more like a 'holy shit what did I get
myself into' smile.

In this photo we are learning about PPE. She never mentioned the stuff I
ACTUALLY USE like a PAPR or a N95, so I guess they just don't need them in
nursing homes. We had to wear these masks all day so that we understood how
annoying they are. This came in handy for when I go watch surgeries.

This folks is another woman brushing my teeth. I knew it was a class we were
going to get close in but brushing my teeth? I agree with my teacher now, that
it was to protect the patient and the resident, but holy crap was I shocked.
This would be within the first month of school and yes, I am probably dying in
this picture. Luckily I wasn't as nervous as the others who choked on the
toothpaste or just swallowed it and got massive stomachaches.

Ever seen a handlebar to the bicep bruise? Now you have! I was a BMXr at
this time in my life (hence the bicycle shirt) and arrived to class with many
bumps, bruises, scars, cuts, sprains and strains. The class liked it and I liked
the free ace wraps. Not pictured in this picture: My knee (the one I am death
gripping) and my ankle are both wrapped up and attached to a gel pack.
Roughly 6 months after this photo was taken I crashed my bike at Nationals
(requiring the surgery I will undergo next month.)

Yep. I was a youngin' when I started this whole gig. Now I am digging for some EMT class pictures, maybe I can hit the jackpot with some old classmates or my instructor!

BTW Dani's Anatomy will be celebrating it's 100th post soon- check in soon for my 'Reflector' post- been in the works for awhile now!

Being a Grown Up is Stressful

I heard it my whole life, I knew it was coming, I knew they weren't lying.
But mom and dad were right- being a grown up sucks. I always thought the bills would be the only bothersome thing, but holy shit- they don't make it easy on anyone anymore. Between cars, insurances, bills, families, holidays, the job and all the in-between stresses of life- its a wonder any of us are still sane.

I have spent the last two days on the phone with doctors, nurses, schedulers and insurance pepole, all of which are trying to do their damndest to make sure that I am stressed to my max and feeling it. Frankly, it sucks. Insurance says the doctors didn't do something. Doctors say they sent it weeks ago. Insurance says to resend. They made me the middle man for this convo. Good thing my cell plan has lots of minutes.

Today I woke up and started the phone calls again. Will you send in my pre approval for surgery please? Can I go off this stupid antibiotic now? Did I get approved for intermittent FMLA? Which of these numbers is prime? What side of the bed do I sleep on? Can you tell I'm going insane? Which witch is which in deciding which way to go?

Once upon a time I thought it was all about making your own rules, and partying all the time, playing whatever kind of music you wanted, whenever you wanted. Thought it was all about you and your friends, staying up late, going to partys, college being about boys and fun, discovering yourself, making mistakes and not having a care in the world. Thought it was all about who you were and what you wanted- when in reality, it is less and less freedom than when I was a kid.

My little brother turned 18 the other day, (Happy Birthday Kiddo! I know you don't read this so I didn't write ya anything...sorry!) the Cadet and I sat him down to give him some words of advice.

"Listen to mom and dad kanoosh. You have more medical bills than I do and you do NOT want to have to pay those on your salary. (He works at a fast food place.) Also, come home 5 minutes early for curfew still, so they don't think you're out to break their rules. You have it easy here kiddo- don't make the mistakes I did."

But alas, at 18 you don't listen to your older sisters tried and true advice. Instead you learn for yourself. Like I said, being a grown up sucks.

Brought to my Knees

Great Paramedics are not born. Saving lives is not genetically programmed into you. Being great is something that you have to become, and greatness is not an easy thing to be. You could study paramedicine for years and still be one of the worst Paramedics ever. Great Paramedics are the true heroes, because to become good, you had to go through hell, mediocre, drama, death and heaven only knows what else. To become GREAT you must go through more.

Last night it hit me why I am doing all of this. I was denied into EMT-Intermediate school because of my shoulder. I struggled through EMT-Basic and other classes nearly killed me, trying to do lifts, techniques, etc. I signed up for health insurance and went to the best of the best for a reason- so that I can get on with my life. Never thinking twice about anything due to my young age I didn't stop to realize that this wasn't all bad drama. Most of it is for the best.

It is so hard to see the good in this when I am out most of the week due to pain. I am on Ultram most of the time to control pain and swelling until my surgery date. I sleep with an icepack on my shoulder now because its the easiest way to wake up in small amounts of pain. It's hard to plan and prepare for a surgery that I don't want. But I need it.

During this past week I went to the mall for some surgery friendly clothes. Knowing I would only have one arm I realized scrubs and sweats were all I could live in for those 6-10 weeks. However I have never owned a pair of sweats, so I had to go find some. Dressing room to dressing room I went, with a soft sling and strapping my arm up so that I had to put it on one handed. I found lots of sweats and that was an easy task.

Then came tube tops (which came doctor recommended due to my sling I will have). I went into the dressing room with a few tops, and explained to the store employee what the deal was. She rolled her eyes and sighed but I continued to try them on one handed. Halfway through trying them on she called me out, and accused me of stealing. When I tried to change back into my clothes the door knocked again. She had called security who proceeded to check my bags and my purse. I again explained to them, I was even wearing my shoulder support brace, which is big, black and bulky. Impossible to hide.

This morning I woke up sick. Spent a good portion of my day at the doctors office, only to be given antibiotics with a hope that they will work. He still doesn't know what it is, but he narrowed it down to two. Sadly the gal who drew my blood missed and stuck me twice, something that rarely happens. I'm already bruised- its quite awesome really. I have done blood draws on myself so it somewhat shocks me when others miss.

It is so hard to see the bright side in all of this. Most girls my age are in sorority's and worried about getting a boys attention. Instead I am worried about patients and surgeries and applying to Paramedic school and everything else in between. BUT it really is for the best.

One day I am going to be an amazing Paramedic. I am going to be able to start lines, drop tubes, run codes and give meds like no ones business. One day I am going to be able to lift stretchers, save lives and have compassion and give care like no other Paramedic. But that one day will have to come after a long extensive surgery (5 hours) and a long recovery period (16 weeks). However, when I get post-surgical patients and broken bones I will be able to understand what my patient is going through. When I put someone in my rig I will understand the fear they feel. I will understand the worry, the stress and the pain. This will make me better.

Being able to be down for awhile will give me the time I need to slow down and think. It will give me time to research Paramedic programs and plan out how I will go about getting there. I will be able to know that I am being taught the best of the best and that I am going to graduate with the knowledge I need to be that great Paramedic.

Reading up on other blogs I came to realize that other Paramedics who are great have been through hell and back, and that they too have been brought to their knees. So tonight I fall to my knees and drop my voice to a whisper as I cry and pray for those other medics, and then pray for myself. Asking for help is not an easy thing to do, but it's the smart thing to do when you know you need it.

Just Do It

You haven't heard alot from me lately bloggers, and with good reason. It's been a busy week or two, working with school, picking up extra shifts and working longer ones than expected and having long sleepless nights just to talk about life and all those damn in-betweens that go on from your goal and where you are now.

The job is good, the job is great. Lately it's been a big stress and an even bigger hassle. At my hospital we have an extra unit called a 'float unit' where we hire RN's, CNA's and LPN's who go to any unit that needs extra staff. It's a helpful unit, however recently we had an issue with a float CNA at my unit. She was causing problems, being snitty and even yelling at patients. She wanted to order food, so we okayed her to order in a pizza. Both nurses told her no meat and I told her no heavy garlic (I am allergic.) She ordered a chicken garlic pizza. We all ate one piece just to make her feel better, but I was sure regretting it. She rode equipment around and sand loudly in spanish, making it hard for the patients to sleep. I work nights, you don't make noise. At the end of the shift everyone was appaled when management offered her a job. Needless to say we panicked and had to speak up. Luckily they listen to us and she will not be my new partner.

Monday I am set to get a contrast MRI done. I am really nervous but am glad that I am doing it where I work. My co-workers are all awesome people, and I honestly do trust them to do a good job. They do it whether they know I am a patient or not. Wednesday I am all set for a follow-up with my shoulder surgeon.

I'm gonna do it. I am going to have my surgery. The ideal date to do it on would be in November, right before Thanksgiving. It's not that I want to ruin the holidays, It's that I would get lots of holiday pay while I am out. It's going to be a long 12 weeks, so here is hoping that there are some decent holiday specials. My nurses are amazing and have helped me plan out my leave from the day of sugery to the day I want to get back. They are even trying to get me to work more hours over there, instead of the med/surg unit, so that I don't ruin a fresh surgery.

Meanwhile the boy is still in POST and is loving it. He comes home excited every night trying to convince me to let him do the things he was taught in class. Last night he learned searches, so he felt up everybody he could find, including his grandma. For awhile there, I was worried about him being a cop, thinking that he wouldn't do so great at it, but now, he is doing awesome.

Healing on the Worst Day -

Lately I have been working on what I hope will one day be a book. Since I've got nothin good to report, I figured I would post this for your pleasure and feedback. Enjoy!
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I had found him the car and helped him finance it. My mother and I had helped clean it up and destroyed the smell of cigarettes from the upholstery, my father had taken him to teach him how to drive a stick shift. Now that little red car was sitting in our drive way full of his belongings and he stormed past me multiple times, cramming even more of his stuff in it. Watching, I felt numb, unsure of what to do, how to react. There was no manual for this part, no instructions, no in case of emergency back up plan. There was only me watching what was supposed to be the rest of my life walk away.


As he slammed the trunk shut he snarled at me, apparently disgusted at the mere sight of me. I looked to the ground and had only one thought enter my head. ‘Give him one last hug, you know you are the better person, do it so that you have no regrets later in life.’ I followed my gut and approached him, giving him one, quick last hug. He stepped into the car and quickly took off, barely missing one of the neighbors kids on their tricycle as he sped down the road.

I don't know how long I stood there before I realized that my brother had appeared next to me and had put a hand on my back. I kept standing there, not sure what to do, not sure how to feel. I waited for the rush of emotions that I knew were coming, but they never did. The cold October wind sent a gust through our little neighborhood and I sighed, feeling goose bumps cover my body.


“Dani, you need to come inside,” My brother said, grabbing at my arm. “It is freezing out here.” I looked to him and tried not to cry as I studied his face. Nodding I started inside and headed back downstairs to what once was my basement apartment.

Sitting cautiously on the stairs I looked at the mess that was once my life. Clothes were scattered from the bedroom to the living room, movies and CD’s had been thrown across the room. Blankets that were folded an hour before now covered even more damage and more misplaced items that had been strewn around during his rage. All I could do was stare as the numb feeling blanketed me, protecting me from my own emotions.


After thirty minutes I stood and picked up the first item, it was my stethoscope. I hugged it to my chest as I walked over all the other items and then found my way to my bed. I dug into a pile that was once my neat closet and found an old pair of scrubs and put them on. Once warm enough and emotionally strong enough I turned on my radio and began to pick up the pieces of my now broken life.

As the afternoon progressed my parents came home from work. My brother having told them what had happened they sat on the stairs, watching me. We didn’t speak. I could smell dinner cooking on the stove, but I had no interest in it. My dad put on one of my favorite movies and turned the volume up loud, hoping to entice me to watch it with them. Instead I began to rearrange the furniture in my bedroom, pushing the dresser around.


The sound of a siren that was my ring tone cried out and I uneasily grabbed my phone and answered it. “Hello?” I asked, feeling quite apprehensive.

“Is this Dani?” I heard a friendly voice say from the other end.

“This is.” I replied.

“Hi Dani, my name is a Manager from the Hospital.”

“Hi…” I said, feeling my voice start to shake as I began my dig for a pen.

“I interviewed with you last week.” She said, wasting no time. “And I understand you cannot work the job I interviewed you for, but would you come in again tomorrow for a interview as a CNA?” She asked. “The job just literally opened up and I think you would be great at it!”

I stopped. “Of course!” I said, trying to sound as excited as I felt. I was ecstatic, thrilled, in shock. The conversation flowed well, I got the address and information I needed and we hung up the phone. I laid on my bed and sighed, looking up to the ceiling.


When I finally had the strength to sit up I jumped as my little brother walked into the room and flopped down on the bed next to me, a risky move on his part. At any moment I could burst into flame, animal form or even simply acting as a bitch, yet he looked danger in the eye and entered anyways, a move I was glad he made. “Who was that?” He asked.

“A gal from the Hospital .” I said, smiling a little bit. He smiled and put up a hand, I high-fived him. “I have a job interview tomorrow.” I said.

“Cool!” He said sitting up. I then sighed and nodded. “What?”


“I can’t move my dresser.” I said sheepishly. He stood and threw a shoulder into it and it began to slide easily across the carpet. I admired my little brother because he helped me, not only with the dresser, but the bed and with putting the clothing in high places.

At seventeen my brother stood almost five inches taller than me, the 5’1 nineteen year old. He had the same sandy blond hair and I did and same blue eyes, but had taken after our dad when it came to his nose and jaw line. He smiled at me as I finished putting the fresh sheets on my bed. Without saying a word, and without complaining about my taste in music he helped me put everything away and got my room re-organized. When it was done I smiled, taking in a small breath of the fresh smell.

“Thank you.” I said, throwing my arms around him.


“Your welcome,” He whispered, embracing me, “Now will you please come eat dinner already so mom can quit griping about it?” I chuckled and nodded, then sat down and forced myself to eat something.

It was 10:30 by the time I got done eating, and my parents had already gone to bed, both not wanting to take on the beast quite yet. I grabbed a blanket and turned on Discovery Health, and without saying a word my night was spent watching reruns of ‘Trauma; Life in the ER’ with my little brother.

As we watched he did imitations of famous actors and how they would react if they were doctors in the show. Before too long I was holding back tears and laughing to an impersonation of Sean Connery dealing with a car accident

I always knew family was important, I had always loved my family, but it wasn't until that moment that I realized that my family 'gets' me better than I think they do. They understand how I tick enough to understand how to let me heal, and that, is honorable.

Operation.

It hasn't hit me yet. I wonder when it will hit me, or if it will until I finally decide to go with it. The entirety of it all still makes me believe that it was a dream. I am known to have vivid, colored dreams jam-packed with drama and bad news. Maybe it was just a bad dream.

The surgeon I visited for my shoulder surgery came by today and spoke with me and the nurse for a few moments. Knowing he was still here I was waiting for his patient and dismissed the thought of him being the one I needed to meet with to discuss my surgery further. As I got the supplies for a new admit ready I thought back to one of the many reasons I don't want to do the surgery yet.

___
It was six in the morning, time for residents to come by and review patient information and situation. After letting them do their rounds with their assigned patients I approached one. "You are Dr.Shoulder's resident right?" I asked.

"Yeah, what do you want?" He asked harshly, never looking up from his paperwork.

"I was wondering if you knew where I could find a shoulder stabilization brace. Preferably one made out of neoprene. Does that have to be written as a prescription or-"

"What the hell makes you think you need one of those?" He asked harshly looking up to me. "You don't need one." He said and returned to his paperwork. Angry I stepped towards him and put my hand on his chart. My pulse raced, my adrenaline began flowing through my veins and my mind was geared on one thing.

"Dr.Shoulder told me I need a shoulder stabilization procedure. I cannot have this surgery done. I need a frickin' brace so that when I get your patient out of bed I wont injure them or myself further. You gonna help me or you gonna be an ass?" I snarled, feeling my orneriness taking over. He slammed the chart shut and walked off. He decided he was going to be an ass .
____

As I heard the voices of Nurse California and Dr. Shoulder I stopped and smiled, saying a quiet hello.

"Yeah, Nurse Cali, I agree, she needs it done soon so that she can be more beneficial as an aide, but it will also improve quality of life." He said, almost an exact quote from what he had told me when I sat in his office. They both looked to me as they leaned against the Nurses station.

"You need that shoulder surgery." She said, giving me a knowing look. I smiled and felt guilty for not even trying to pursue it yet. "We are gonna help you figure out a time when you can do it."

As I looked at the calendar and tried to plan out dates and times and how exactly to make this happen I kept letting my mind wander. It is something I have learned to live with. It is something that is a part of my life now, and I have adapted to it. Not even the MRI and the Xrays have let me know that it is real, and at this point I am positive I won't be feeling reality until I am in a gown going under TIVA.

Sometimes being young and naive isn't as awesome as we all believe it to be. This is one of those cases I wish I was more grown up and could handle this like one.

How can I make it more real? And how can I convince myself that I need to do this, and soon, before I shred it up even more?

Time: My loosing battle

When you work in a hospital you come to loose a lot of things you once took for granted. Sleep, holidays, friends, family, and mostly, time. We accept this becuse we love our jobs, our co-workers and our patients.

Sitting straight up as I awoke I let myself catch my breath and after a moment flopped back down onto my pillow and close my eyes. The dream I had flashed through my mind again and I sighed deeply. It all came back to me as I lay there, the defibrillator, the sirens, the lights, and the patient, everything moving in slow motion, yet it was still moving too fast.

Dreams don't happen often, so when they do it is a big deal for me to try to remember them. I stare at the dreamcatcher over my bed and I continue to breathe, letting my eyes wander between it and the clock, whose big green letters read 3:45 a.m.

There was once a time I didn't need sleep. I was working two jobs, 5 days a week, and anywhere from 8-14 hours a day. Then, I would come home and hang out with family and friends. I didn't need food, I didn't need bathroom breaks, I didn't need anything, I just kept going. At the time I thought that was just how my body worked, but now, being exhausted all the time and always just wanting to catch up on sleep and sun, I wonder what was my deal.

Everyone I talk to reminds me that I have time, that I don't need to live in fast forward like I am used to. Everyone trys to convince me that I am doing better off than I think I am doing, but there are some people, the only people who honestly make sense to me, who encourage me to keep going in fast forward. "One day, you are gonna wake up a 50-year-old woman and wonder where your life has gone." They say. "Don't stop running. Don't stop moving in fast forward. Don't stop."

Once upon a time I worked in a care center, and a little old lady took me by the hands and pulled me close to her bed. "You are too young for this." She said. I argued, telling her I was the ripe old age of seventeen years old. She nodded. "You are way too young for this. Why are you doing this so young?" When I explained my dreams of being a nurse and a Paramedic, she smiled. "Well then, you keep being young and doing this. You will be the best. Don't slow down." She smiled. "But enjoy the moment, enjoy the time. It goes way too fast."

Life has provided me with many lessons since I have started working in this field. Once I thought this was just a short-term thing, but nothing you do in medicine is short term. We do this for people, and we toss ourselves by the wayside. Medicine isn't for the selfish, its for the selfless, and we loose alot, including time. As Meridith Grey said on an Episode of Grey's Anatomy; "Time takes pleasure in kicking our asses."

"Why Bother?"

My Monday shift consisted of a patient dying. Tuesday one friend lost a grandfather, and the other her father. They say that people die in 3's, 7's, and 12's but is this true if you're the bystander?

Because of who they lost it caused me to lay awake last night, thinking about my life. I too lost my grandfather a few years back, and loosing grandparents is a simple fact of life, but it is incredibly difficult. Back then I lost two people in my life at the same time, the same night, 45 minutes away from each other, and I was out of town when it happened.

I found out about my friend first. A kid I went to school with for years, a kid I had worked with, and a kid who was like my brother. He passed away by suicide, something none of us would have predicted he was planning. He was an outgoing kid, a band geek, smarter than anyone else I knew and was going to an Early-College-High-School for Marine Biology. He was the kid I could turn to when my life got hard, and we spent so many cold winter days sitting on the front porch, talking, thinking and wondering about life. I was at an EMT competition when another girl from our high school tearfully told me. My heart sank and my mind turned off. I couldn't focus on anything, let alone our win. The bus ride home one of my classmates sat close to me, my head on his shoulder and slow, hot, tears falling down my face. When I got home, he would be gone.

When I arrived home I realized my grandmother was at our house. This was so weird for our home, we were remodeling, and the house was a mess. After kicking off my shoes and letting out a deep breath I shakily told my dad why I was crying. Sadly, he had me sit on the couch with my grandmother, all she had to do was say my name. I knew what happened. I locked myself in my parents office. Simply staring at the wall. Finally I turned on ITunes, and put it on country, hoping to find some comfort from the crazyness, instead Emerson Drive's song 'A Good Man' came on, and I sobbed even harder.

Two days later I picked up a friend of mine,(a man who still struggles with this to this day), both of us dressed in black. We were headed to our friends viewing. I would be unable to make it to the funeral, and I promised him I would drive. We both stood in that long line for two hours, just to pause for a moment and finally say goodbye. I closed my eyes and shook my head. You just cannot say a true goodbye to a corpse. Tears filled our eyes and my friend and I left, having no desire or intention to meet up with everyone else later. We stayed up til 3 a.m, talking and laughing about the 'good ole days.' But it still didn't seem real.

When I was 16 my grandfather made me a promise I haven't forgotten. He promised me that he wouldn't leave this world until he saw me get married. When I was 17 the doctors helped us realize how sick he really was, and at various trips to visit him I had to use EMS care to help him til the hospice team came. He was in pain, and now he isn't, but it still doesn't change the fact that I miss him, and I hate that he won't be around to see me get married. Its hard, going to see your grandmother and expecting to see him there, yelling at the soccer game on TV and laughing with that hearty belly laugh.

Last night I finally broke down and cried. I hate crying, I feel like it shows weakness, but I am so frusterated with my job, with the people I take care of, and my personal life. It seems like all anyone does is die.

"Why bother?" I asked my fiance last night with tear-filled-eyes. "All I do is take care of people who die."

"Because your the strong one who CAN take care of them before and while they do, and how many honestly die compared to the ones you have saved?" We talked for about an hour, and finally I was done trying to explain, and done keeping him awake all night. We turned in and fell asleep, but I awoke this morning to the same thoughts.

I'm guessing its something that everyone goes through, something that everyone thinks at one point or another. Today I saw that my friends have posts all over facebook and myspace, they too are wondering the same thing I was; 'why bother?'

The Rantings and Ramblings of a Sick Person

I hate it when I am sick. Let me repeat that one in case I wasn't clear enough; I am not good at being sick, I don't know how to handle it, I get in the way and just plain out hate being sick. This hate grows when it is something lame like the stomach flu (which is exactly what I have).

It was a nice excuse to call in sick to my Monday unit, but unfortunately I got bored rather quickly. The camping out in the bathroom became fewer and farther between and my fiance made me chicken noodle soup and agreed to chick flicks with me, but I still needed stuff to do. When I got caught folding clothes, I got in trouble. When I got caught tidying up the room, trouble. When I got caught helping put away the food and clean up the kitchen, trouble. It is a food posioning bug, I'm not gonna contaminate it all as if it was swine flu!

Since the uneventful events from yesterday I have held down an english muffin and am very much looking forward to more solids, and less time spent BSing on the computer and in bed. Not even reruns of Scrubs are doing it for me this time- I'm rearing to get back into action!

"You must be good at your job." My future mother in law commented as we spoke last night. I looked up to her, confused and asked her why. "Cause you suck at the other part of the equation." I looked to my fiance and smiled sheepishly.

A text of all the wonderful things I can do before attempting to get ready for work just beeped in on my phone and I sighed, sadly. All the bridal mags that are available have been purchased and read. I'm sick of using the computer, because after so long I get a headache, and excedrin doesn't sit well in an upset stomach. I have read both Peter Canning books that I own, and have watched enough Discovery Health and Tru TV to get me through the rest of the month.

I guess people don't understand me, don't understand what I do. I help people, and I do it because I don't need the help that others do. My job is not about me, my life isn't about me, its about everything else. Its incredibly hard for me to be selfish, to even think about being the patient, because I'm not the patient, I am the white coat, the blue scrubs and the stethoscope around the neck. But alas, as I migrate onto real food and attempt to feel better (still an upset tummy, but no vomiting!) I will have to stay in bed for at least a couple more hours to please the fiance and the mothers- something I REALLY hate to do.

2 Panic Attacks, 2 Saves

After a lot of deliberation I decided to be candid and post it all

Thursday we had a weird shift, an extra aide and an extra nurse added to our mix and a lot of stress as we tried to teach them the ways of our unit and take care of our patients appropriately. A certain patient had been on the call light asking for pain meds continuously, and I reminded the nurse to remember his pain meds before too much more time passed. The nurse flipped out and got angry with me, claiming that I was telling her how to care for her patient. The extra aide walked into the patient room (it was her patient) and helped him settle again and stop the screaming and moaning, while the nurse went ahead to ream me a new one...and I wasn't sure why.

" You don't tell me how to take care of my patients. He can't have pain meds for another hour. Can't you read these? Let me tell you what I'm doing, I'm dealing with a little girl that could be dying." She said standing nose-to-nose with me. I'm not allowed to touch the pain meds, access the Omnicell they come in let alone suggest that pain meds are coming. I am not allowed to read the medicaion reports, meds are strictly for nurses. I was amazed that she was assuming all of this.

"Everyone is someone who could be dying." I replied, meaner than what I wanted to be. "I am just asking that a patient be taken care of, if it aint time for meds, it aint time. Thats fine, do what you were doing, I'm just doing MY job." The nurse pulled in closer to me.

"Listen to me you little shit, you're being inappropriate." I looked to our other nurse, who was called in to assist who shook her head and mouthed to me 'no your not, no your not'.

"Me doing MY job is inappropriate?!" I asked. "Well then do tell me what is appropriate." I said leaning back in my chair, just waiting to hear her explaination.

"I'm gonna write your ass up!" She yelled going into the patient room. "I am gonna have your license revoked. You are a worthless aide and I have no honest idea why they hired you!" I shook my head and fought back tears. 'What a bitch.' I thought, then gathered my things. I was off in 1.5 hrs anyways, I figured she was gonna send me home. As she returned from the patient room she glared at me. "What do you think your doing?" She yelled.

"I'm thinking ahead." I said, setting my bag down and organizing a few items.

"Don't think your going anywhere." She snarled and I lost it. I felt a hot tear hit my cheek and I looked up to her. The day had been rough. First my biological mother had gotten mad at me, my future mother in law was not happy with me, and now my co-workers and adult example was pulling this off-the-wall stunt. She heard me sniff and watched me excuse myself from the unit, then grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me outside to yell at me some more.

After it was all said and done, I don't remember the entire conversation, I don't remember what was said or done, but I do remember having my first set of panic attacks. I do remember realizing what was wrong with me and trying to focus on just calming down as she yelled at me some more. I sat on the floor, thinking 'inhale, exhale, breathe Dani, breathe.'

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Friday I wore a set of scrubs I never wear. My hair was out of place and my makeup was only half done. I was still in a funk from Thursday night and I had no intention of trying to get out of it alive. After a long pep-talk from the nurse who yelled at me I started to work.

I did everything I needed to do and then more. Glucoses were done, rechecked and noted correctly. Vitals were done for my Q4's and Post-Operatively and the patients had lots of ice packs and snacks to keep them comfortable. Urinals and foleys were emptied and I had even help a few patients walk the halls before going to bed for the night. Things were going well. The nurse and I had nothing more to say to each other about last night and we even joked about wedding dresses (I was browsing at our slow points) and my fiance wearing a kilt to the wedding. Things picked up again at 0200 and I jumped back into action.

The patient we had gotten in the arguement over the night before was yelling in pain, gripping the bed rails with white knuckles and yelling loudly. Either he had bad nerve receptors or the bupivicaine block simply wasn't working, either way we had to take care of him. I decided to pack both of his surgical sites (they were casted) with gel packs, figuring the more ice, the better to help his pain. I never touched his cast, but I touched the blankets and pillows around it gently and he screamed loudly in pain. "STOP!" He yelled. "You're killing me! I am gonna die here!"

I hurried to his head and held his hand, encouraging him that he wasn't going to die on my watch or at my hospital. As he calmed down I heard his pulse ox machine beep loudly and I looked up. The kid was on 2L 02 and had his sats drop to 60 and his pulse was 100 before, was reading 210 now. I yelled to his nurse who didn't help me, so I started to asses him before I dared push the code button.

"Breathe!" I yelled to him pushing his O2 up to 6L. "Hey!" I yelled, shaking him and making him focus on me. "You are gonna need to breathe." In all honesty, he was breathing, and it was an adequate inhale and exhale, which is what scared me. We got him breathing normally and I shouted to the nurse again, his pulse was 164 taken manually. Either way, for a healthy young man, that was bad. As I continued my assessment on him and tried to help him stablilize the nurse busted in and I gave my quick report on him. She told me to go get a face mask and more ice packs and I did so, by this time he was stablilized. She had the ambu bag lying out at the head of his bed and he was breathing normally. I grabbed his hand and rubbed his back, he really wasn't satting....his hands were ice cold and looking pale.

As we left his room and had him settled again the nurse looked at me and nodded. "Thank god your an EMT." She said. I looked at her, confused. "You saved his life, Dani. You may not consider it a save, but it is." I smiled and nodded. "Good work." She said, patting my back.

About an hour later I was taking an early blood glucose, figuring why not take it early, the patient slept all night and was doing well all night, little to no pain, no worries, not even a need for a potty break. As I took it she was talking to me, smiling, laughing at my lame jokes and talking about going home. I looked at the beeping glucometer and sighed. 'RRLO.'

I grabbed an orange juice and gave it to her, then reset my glucometer for a retest. After five minutes I took it again, 'RRLO.' This time I gave her a cranberry juice and reset the glucometer again. Grabbing her chart I remembered she had high blood sugars before she went to bed and I felt bad, she wanted to go home so bad and this may compromise this. I took a third blood sugar. 'RRLO.' I ran to the nurse and notified her of this and made the patient breakfast, complete with MORE sugar and fruit. She ate it and the nurse spoke with her. I gave it ten more minutes and tested a fourth time. '166.' I sighed a breath of relief and as I charted it the relief aide walked in, smiling from a well-rested night. I laughed at this and smiled at the nurse as she walked past.

"Dani made two saves tonight on her own. We need to just have her as an EMT and not a CNA, get her a pay raise and better benefits so that we can get more done, she's done really well tonight."

"She's rocked this shift." The other nurse said as she glanced up from her chart. I smiled.
2 Panic attacks, 2 Saves.

We opened the envelope and....

I watched him as he walked slowly to the mailbox, both of us having a gut feeling it wouldn't be there again. I felt my stomach drop as he dug through the mail and then held one envelope alone in a seperate hand. From what we had heard the results come in two ways; if you pass its a large envelope, if its a fail its a small envelope. He was holding a small one.

He jumped into the car and his hands shook as he started to open the letter and I immediately realized that it was the test results. I watched him, feeling the adrenaline pumping through my body, hearing my heart beating in my ears, all I could focus on was what happened when he opened the letter. He paused and looked at me.

"This is it." He said, then took a deep breath. We both knew that either way, one of us would win, but I really wanted him to get in. I wanted him to get his career started, but I also wanted to go to Paramedic school.

He opened the letter and let out a yell, then leaned in and kissed me. I pulled away and grabbed at the papers, looking to see the result. There is was in big bold black letters; PASS. I yelled in excitement and we kissed again, both feeling so excited. The results came, and they were good results to boot!

Some people would consider this a loss on my part, but its the farthest thing from it. I love my job, and this is what he wanted, so while he's studying up on laws, practicing traffic stops and attending classes I can put my focus on other things for a little bit (like a wedding and work!). Depending on the waiting list I may go to a 2 Month EMT-I class, but thats all in the future, and thats all after the paperwork is submitted. But now we know, and now we know what lies ahead...at least for a little bit!

Quotes and Qips

When I get worried, I turn to myself. It is a nasty habit, but its one I have found incredibly useful, and as this trick works more and more, I realize that maybe its not that bad for me. Then again, alcoholics and long-time smokers say the same thing.

I turned to my writing notebooks. I actually have a whole box full of notebooks, binders, spiral bound books and folders. To my parents dismay I wanted to keep most of my good writing and I dug into one of those boxes this afternoon, only to find the smallest blip of what I needed to get through tonight.

The vanilla color was faded into a deeper shade, resembling the tan shade that the army uses. This folder had been through alot and had no breaks, and from the scribblings on it I could tell it never had a chance to begin with. The edges were faded, and honestly I wasn't sure what I had kept it for, but then I took a closer look at the scribblings on it. It wasn't just the typical crap people write on folders, like who loves who, phone numbers and things we thought we would always remember and now cant deciepher, it was clear, conceise, and perfect.

"Never look back, Never look down, Never Let Go." It was the lyrics to a song that my partner in Basic class had found for us. It held such special meaning for me while we trained, and even more meaning when State HOSA testing had come and gone.

"It's after the storm, after the rush, after the heat of the moment that you realize why you do what you do." A Grey's Anatomy quote, and quite fitting. I can imagine an Ambulance, the back full of wrappers thrown haphazardly all around the ground, a small blood stain on the floor, the stretcher not quite locked in and two EMT's staring at each other, tired, exhaused, but making the save.

"I'm gonna go save lives!"

"Selfish people don't save lives!"

"It's a Name Alert!"
"You Dimwad! That's the Nurses name!"

"No man defines who you are!"

"First; Do No Harm "

"You can get through anything, all you have to do is survive."

"You and I both know its not what you look like, your job or how successful you are, its about having people in your life who love you and who you love. That is all that matters."

The last quote was written in big green letters, and I can tell from the way the handwriting looks, was written slowly and thoughtfully. As I read the quote I remember the first time I heard it, it was on an episode of Grey's Anatomy, the episode where the Ambulances crashed into each other, and they were trying to save the Paramedics hanging upside down. "Where I Stood" by Missy Higgins played in the background and the Chief looked to Meredith.

"That's the job." He tells her. "Look at me. This day- this day you feel helpless. This day makes all those other days when you fight to save a lige a loose. This day makes you grateful you have a chance to do anything at all. You take it in."

Unsure About Things

Life, the center of our universe, the reason behind our being. The reason to inhale, the reason to exhale, the reason to reproduce. It's the reason we believe in love, its why we believe in religion, and moreover, why we believe in each other.

The damn poets have tried to capture the beauty and meaning of life for others to share. They have tried to help humanity but humanity is proving to be beyond help; sadly this shows. Crimes, Vice, Wars, Random Acts of Violence, humans find hundreds of ways to act out against one another. I had come to the conclusion that life would forever remain a mystery to me. However, I got a job in a hospital, working hands on with people, and as I worked I learned.

Working with people is difficult, and at times I clock out feeling as if I want to cry. It's tough, people are beautiful, mean, kind, hard working, terrible and an arrangement of other characteristics. Some shifts are beautiful, others horrible and some are a shade of classic mediocracy. But as you deal with life, with people, you learn about them.

I never thought I would learn about life on the job.

*~*~*

The skies are finally clear, blue and sunny. I feel as if I could stare at them all day, and at times I get lost in thoughts as well as daydreams as I stare up at these big blue skies. Lately it's been me and my fiance waiting on the mail, waiting to see who will go to trade school first. I have been scared to study up in my textbooks, worried that I may get my hopes up, so instead I have been reading Peter Canning's book; Paramedic. The more I read the book, the more I realize it really is what I want to do with my life, and it gives me that extra push I need to keep hoping.

Monday and Tuesday were very rough for me. I worry that I am getting into a rut, but I also worry that if I'm stuck in the rut, I may never get out. In the break room I see other CNA's, talking about the patients, making snide remarks and talking about how long they have done this for. I have been a CNA for 5 years, but I can't bring myself to make those remarks, but I worry that one day, I may get to that point. Monday it was the patients and the families that got to me. Yesterday it was the nurses. Maybe they simply don't trust my skills, maybe they don't trust me. Maybe I don't trust them. Could it all be in my head? Either way I feel like I am falling into a rut, and I desperately need something to help lift me up.

I'm sure that one day I will look back at this and smile, laugh at myself for my petty worries and roll my eyes when I re-read these posts. But that is one day, and this, is today, and today I am going to worry about it, I am going to stress over it. I think I am going to take a motorcycle ride.

Test Results

For the last week I have been hunting down the mailman. You would think in today's day and age he would bring these long awaited letters and packages sooner in fear of them being taken away from him and placed in the hands of the ever-growing Internet. Instead, I wait, hoping that each day is the day that it comes.

I am waiting for test results for my fiance, which will determine who goes to school first. Paramedic school is 5 days a week, 8-9 hours a day, including ride-along hours, which will take place at any day, any time. He has encouraged me to completely focus on school, so I would have to quit my job. With his certification it is 5-6 days a week, 4-5 hours a day, and is at convenient times, but still, we want him to focus on his certification. Either way I am worried about the results, the fianances, and how it will all work out.

I love my job, and I would hate to quit my job, even if it is for school, but thats the best decision that we can come up with, for both of us. There is no excuse for failure when school is all your doing. But with my evaluation recently coming back with excellent results and the Nurses trusting me to assist them with anything and everything, I would hate to loose what I have. But I would also hate to be where I am at forever.

Because of this I have been getting lost in my thoughts, finding myself thinking about the possibilities that lay ahead. When I go, will I be the oldest in my class? Will I be the youngest in my class? What happens when I graduate? Will I be able to focus all the time? Will it overwhelm me?

I hate swimming in a sea of doubt, so I curse the mailman and get ready for work, ignoring the fact that its his fault we have continued to be this worried about these results. I just close my eyes and try to let things be. However, trying and doing, are two very different things.