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!

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.

Ignoring the Pain

"Dani I need help in here!" I didn't even need to look to see what room she was calling from, I didn't even need to respond, all I needed to do was focus. The sound of my heartbeat filled my ears and the ice cold sensation of adrenaline filled my veins. I grabbed the door frame and slid on the freshly cleaned floors and spun into the patients room. Gloving up I stood next to the nurse to see a patient screaming in pain and to see the nurse holding pressure on his hip, blood covering the sheets and the pillows elevating his leg. I took over the pressure and she ran out of the room, explaining that the on-call doc was on his way as well as the surgical team.

We generally don't see anything like this, for the most part our nights are full of long conversations about life and advice between bathroom breaks and checking in on snoring patients. But every now and then, excitement jumps in, and I get a chance to show off my skills. I made small talk with the patient as the nurse made frantic phone calls. Suddenly a doctor sprinted into the room, finishing putting on his scrub top and grabbed gloves. As he saw me and then saw the nurse run in after him he looked to her.

"Who did you call?" He asked.

"Everyone." The Nurse replied breathlessly.

He had what appeared to be a hematoma. When we first recieved the patient from the PACU he mentioned pain on a graft site and we examined it, but we weren't quite sure what it could be. We applied ice to it and paged a doctor, and from there, I had no idea what had happened until this moment. According to the patient his site just...exploded and the blood oozed everywhere. I placed tighter pressure on his site and I studied his face as he winced in pain.

"Lets get this guy some pain meds!" I holled out to the doctor and nurse who were talking right outside the door. As I yelled this another doc came running in and then did a quick examination. The decision had been made, he had to be sutured there and then.

This doesn't always happen in medicine. This doesn't always happen in real life, but we do always ignore that little bit of pain. Sure we examine it, we feel it, but then we toss it aside and wait for something bigger to happen.

My father did the same thing. He always had migraines, he always had stomach aches. It just became a way of life that after dad ate, he was sick. We figured it was stress, or simply his job, but one day after work my mother took him to the hospital. He dropped over 10 lbs in a week. He was sick, and we had to do something. He was just trying to ignore the pain.

A good friend of mine had a similar situation, he had stomachaches that left him bedridden for days, he would sleep for days at a time. He was sick, and instead blamed it on his habits (drinking and smoking) and decided against a doctor. Two months ago he went to a doctor, and has been to the doctor 3-4 times a week since, there is still no diagnosis. There may have been, if he hadn't ignored the pain.

We need pain in our lives to help us know when we are okay and when we are not. We need the pain just like we need the air we breathe. It just sucks that we have to feel it so often.

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."

Lives and Sirens

Last night I was up late, digging through an old box of notebooks when I stumbled across some excellent pieces of writing I have done. For as long as I can remember, writing as been my passion, but these pieces are about my career passion. Since last night's shift was short and mostly dull, I figured I would share these bits with you. All of these bits are actual events that have happened in my life; and have definitely made me better for it.

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Almost all the girls I know love to shop. The lip gloss, heels, the sick obsessions that the worshipers of the estrogen throne embrace. Frankly, I find it disgusting; then again, some fine my obsession sick as well. Difference is, I heal people.

My cheap thrills come from a body craving a hormone; Adrenaline. The stimulus of this is so much cooler than it sounds; the sound of a siren heading towards a code delta, The flashing lights heading towards a code Charlie. There is something addictive and sexy about the color of an ambulance, and honestly, I don't know why anybody does drugs.

Clearly, I am not normal, and that's okay. I don't live for normality. I live this life to save others; I am an EMT.

There is this scene that plays in my head, its as if my dramatic life turns into a movie. This scene includes dancing, a catchy tune from Elvis and a horde of firemen. Its the closing scene for my struggles, for when my goals are all met and I finally get my happily ever after. That moment is what I know will never happen, but I still pretend I will land it. Unfortunately I'm pretty aware my life isn't going to end on a moral high note, no matter how hard I try.
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I was a seventeen year old dreamer, full of drive, determination and ambition. I was different from the other girls. They wore lipstick and miniskirts, I wore tennis shoes and my EMT hoodie. I worked on trucks and was obsessed with the sound of sirens, being the first to hear one wherever I was at. I sat on the front row of my EMT class, the more I knew, the more I could do.

Every session of basic class we were allowed a ten minute break, and we spent most of it grabbing food or taking a 5 minute breather outside of the classroom. I had been anxious most of the day and decided to spend the break walking outside, trying to burn off the extra energy. Across the street from our building was a cemetery, and as I walked outside I saw it surrounded by fire trucks, ambulances and police cars, all of which had their lights on.

"Oh my gosh..." I whispered, feeling the cool autumn air against my face.

"EMT John Doe Please Respond." A single voice called out from one of the rigs. Nothing happened, and goosebumps ran up and down my spine. "EMT John Doe Please Respond." They called for him three more times before their final call . "EMT John Doe has fallen."

The sirens wailed and I felt myself try not to cry and I watched the scene. I felt a classmates hand on my back as he joined me and we watched the scene in silence. It was tragic, but it was so inspiring. It was that reinforcer that I needed and taught me that regardless of what happens, your team will be there to the grave.
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