When I translated my blog into jive, it gave me some really awesome translations.
Flying Red Ants? Ho-Slappin' Red Ants.
Slice-n-Bakes? Slice-n-Bizzles.
Fatty? F-A-Double-Tizzy.
This proved as a very nice distraction from homework. Thank you, internet! You have pulled through for me once again.
Translate your blog and tell me that at some point you don't literally burst into laughter, I dare you!
Sam
3.31.2008
3.28.2008
Flying Red Ants
I post this picture on my facebook in an attempt to be all artsy and cool. No, no, instead I get this comment from Drew: "any flying red ants in there?" Hardy, har, har partner. Tell me my camera angle is nifty and you think the grass looks really green, you jerk!
p.s.--There weren't any, I checked.
p.p.s.--New post about an interesting call (or two...) last night coming tomorrow. I had a long and involved night tonight, so I'm just going to hit the sack.
3.27.2008
Eric
Not only is he a connoisseur of slice-n-bake cookies, but he's also a good partner (go figure, hehe). I have a good update to write about a call we went on tonight, but since I wrote one for Drew, I thought I'd do one for Eric. So here are a few humorous quotes and incidents from our dear friend that you all love (to hate), Eric. Last Week, As We Were Trying to Get in to a Grocery Store Late at Night (for some Slice-n-Bakes!):
Me:"Aw, they're closed."
Eric:"Uhh...I don't know why, it says 'open 6am until midnight!'"
Me:"Eric, it's 2 in the morning."
Eric:"Right, so why aren't they open!?"
Me:"...Seriously?"
Eric:"Oh, right."
Classic Eric Phrases
Eff!
What the eff-bomb!?
Well ain't that some shit!
While Buying Food:
Drew:"Fatty! Why are you buying so much food!?"
Eric:"Leave me alone!"
Drew:"Christ. Sam, you know if we get a call, fatty here's going to be eating as he drives the medic."
Eric:"Aw, hell, that's nothing. This one time, I was driving lights and sirens while eating a cheeseburger!"
Me:"You know...you didn't really just help your case there."
Driving To a Call:
Me:"There's a bunny. Swerve for the bunny. SWERVE, SWERVE, SWERVE!!!"
Eric:"OH GOD! *swerves all over the place* That was almost really bad."
About Five Seconds Ago:
Eric:*points to a poster of Christopher Reeves* Isn't he dead?
Me:*not paying attention* Who?
Eric:Lance Armstrong
Me:*looks up, realizes who it is, proceeds to burst into hysterical laughter*
Eric provides us with a lot (and oh my god do I mean a LOT) of comic relief. I really like writing these "glimpses into the real lives of my partners" posts. I mean, I always write about Eric and Drew as they are on calls, but you don't know them like I do outside of the EMS world. I know them on campus, at the station, at their houses, at parties, etc. We are all really close, and I like bringing a little more of them into this. If you like reading these, please let me know and I'll be sure to bring you more! Eric will be super easy to write about, haha!
Yours,
Sam
3.26.2008
Drew
Drew is being such a spoil-sport and won't let me post a picture of him because he says his face isn't "glorious" enough. Folks, let me tell you what a lie that is...regardless. Maybe one day he'll let me. I'm sure Eric will, anyway. So no picture for this post.
Tonight at Subway:
Drew(To me (quietly)): "I love to mess with the subway girl...watch this."
(To her):"I'll take a six-inch sweet-onion chicken sub, 'cause six inches is all I can handle, toasted, 'cause I like it hot."
Her:"Heh...uh...what else can I put on that for you?"
Him:"Lettuce, tomato, onion, peppers, and two pickles."
Her:"Two?"
Him:"Yeah, I like it to look like a smiley face."
Her:"Uhhh..."
Him:*Smiles like nothing is out of the ordinary*
Her:*Puts two pickles on the sandwich* "Like a smiley face."
Him:"Ohhhhhh God that looks good."
Me:"You're so strange."
*****
Later, at the station:
Drew:"OH EFF!"
Me:*jumps back about 10 feet* "WHAT!?"
Drew:"THERE'S A FLYING RED ANT ON THE COUCH!" *attempts to flick it towards me*
Me:"OH GOD! DON'T FLICK IT, SMASH IT!"
Drew:*looks around, flails helplessly*
Me:*grabs TV remote, poised and ready to smash*
Angry Flying Red Ant:*flies off angrily*
Drew:"THAT COULD HAVE BEEN MY ARM!"
A Few Minutes Later:
Me:"Do you want me to call Eric and have him pick up some of those slice and bake cookies for later tonight?"
Drew:"Ooo, definitely"
Me:*calls Eric* "Heyyyy...how's about you picking up some of them slice-n-bake cookies at teeter on your way over? Yeah, we were thinking we could--OH GOD" *ducks as Drew launches himself across the couch*
Drew:"AIEEEEEE!" *flies in gigantic leaps and bounds over the couch and Sam, smashing the aforementioned Flying Red Ant in one fell swoop*
Me:"We...we...we were thinking we could make a batch for our shift tonight. Yeah, alright see you in a few. ...Nice going, partner."
Drew:*wipes sweat off his brow* "I am all that is man."
From A Shift A Few Weeks Ago:
Drew:"Man, I'm really vascular today." *shows me his arms*
Me:"...You're odd."
I work with some awesome people. And here comes Eric with those cookies...expect some updates throughout the night! And Eric just told me that he'd let me use his picture "as long as I didn't look like I do now!" Yeah, yeah, bud.
Tonight at Subway:
Drew(To me (quietly)): "I love to mess with the subway girl...watch this."
(To her):"I'll take a six-inch sweet-onion chicken sub, 'cause six inches is all I can handle, toasted, 'cause I like it hot."
Her:"Heh...uh...what else can I put on that for you?"
Him:"Lettuce, tomato, onion, peppers, and two pickles."
Her:"Two?"
Him:"Yeah, I like it to look like a smiley face."
Her:"Uhhh..."
Him:*Smiles like nothing is out of the ordinary*
Her:*Puts two pickles on the sandwich* "Like a smiley face."
Him:"Ohhhhhh God that looks good."
Me:"You're so strange."
*****
Later, at the station:
Drew:"OH EFF!"
Me:*jumps back about 10 feet* "WHAT!?"
Drew:"THERE'S A FLYING RED ANT ON THE COUCH!" *attempts to flick it towards me*
Me:"OH GOD! DON'T FLICK IT, SMASH IT!"
Drew:*looks around, flails helplessly*
Me:*grabs TV remote, poised and ready to smash*
Angry Flying Red Ant:*flies off angrily*
Drew:"THAT COULD HAVE BEEN MY ARM!"
A Few Minutes Later:
Me:"Do you want me to call Eric and have him pick up some of those slice and bake cookies for later tonight?"
Drew:"Ooo, definitely"
Me:*calls Eric* "Heyyyy...how's about you picking up some of them slice-n-bake cookies at teeter on your way over? Yeah, we were thinking we could--OH GOD" *ducks as Drew launches himself across the couch*
Drew:"AIEEEEEE!" *flies in gigantic leaps and bounds over the couch and Sam, smashing the aforementioned Flying Red Ant in one fell swoop*
Me:"We...we...we were thinking we could make a batch for our shift tonight. Yeah, alright see you in a few. ...Nice going, partner."
Drew:*wipes sweat off his brow* "I am all that is man."
From A Shift A Few Weeks Ago:
Drew:"Man, I'm really vascular today." *shows me his arms*
Me:"...You're odd."
I work with some awesome people. And here comes Eric with those cookies...expect some updates throughout the night! And Eric just told me that he'd let me use his picture "as long as I didn't look like I do now!" Yeah, yeah, bud.
What Seems To Be The Problem?
[[I think I really like updating with pictures--thoughts on this? And yes, this is the view of me driving as taken by a passenger today...just hours before this incident...funny how things happen!]]
Driving back to campus from a visit to a big city nearby, the lights behind me flash brightly against the night sky.
"Alright, alright," I think to myself as I note the speedometer. Hmm...forty-something? Why am I being pulled over? I make my way over to the side of the road and pull out my license and registration, killing the music and rolling down the window at the same time.
"Good evening," he says before I have a chance to open my mouth, "do you know why I stopped you tonight?" He takes my license from me, and hands it back barely looking at it.
"Honestly, no I don't, sir."
"Do you know what the speed limit is here?" I falter, thinking. Damn, I really don't.
"No, sir."
"It's twenty-five. Do you know how fast you were going?"
"No, sir."
"Forty-four."
"Oh, wow."
"I saw your plates; you with the rescue squad?"
"Yes, sir."
"Which one?"
"Clearview."
"Oh wow...you're a good drive from home then, aren't you? How long you been with them?"
"About a year and a half now."
"Drive the box for them?"
"Yes, sir, I really love it out there."
"A speeding ticket probably wouldn't look too good, would it? In fact, they probably wouldn't let you drive," he muses aloud. You know, I wasn't even going to pull you over; I hate to antagonize you rescue types. I never know when you're going to be saving me and mine, so unless you're being really dangerous I just leave you all alone for the most part." He pauses and looks around, scratching his head.
"You weren't being reckless at all; you probably just thought it was the part of the street up there where it is faster." He points off into the night as if I'm supposed to see past the turn. I nod in agreement anyway.
"I just wanted to stop you so you would know how fast you were going in case you ran into someone who wasn't as nice as I am. You have a clean record I'm sure, or else you wouldn't be driving the box and you wouldn't be shaking like a leaf here. I saw your campus parking decal on your car, so you're obviously not from around here; you don't know the streets. Well, just slow down, okay? You're a good kid, I can tell."
"You can tell? I've said roughly fifteen words to you, half of which have been 'sir'. But hey, who am I to argue with your good judgment?" I nod agressively, fiddling with my bracelet.
"Thank you so much, officer. I didn't mean to speed; I'll slow down."
"10-4, young lady. You be safe on these streets; there are some crazy people out here."
"Yes sir I will. Have a good night."
"You too; keep us safe, now," he says with a tap on the side of my car. I laugh as I put my license away and slide my car into first gear. I set my cruise control on twenty-seven and call Drew.
"You know those rescue plates we have?"
"Yeah?"
"They're golden."
To all you police officers out there--thank you, thank you, thank you for looking out for us EMS types. Beyond the whole getting-me-out-of-a-ticket thing, I just really appreciate the fact that you always have our backs on and off duty. You're truly great people.
Yours,
Sam
Driving back to campus from a visit to a big city nearby, the lights behind me flash brightly against the night sky.
"Alright, alright," I think to myself as I note the speedometer. Hmm...forty-something? Why am I being pulled over? I make my way over to the side of the road and pull out my license and registration, killing the music and rolling down the window at the same time.
"Good evening," he says before I have a chance to open my mouth, "do you know why I stopped you tonight?" He takes my license from me, and hands it back barely looking at it.
"Honestly, no I don't, sir."
"Do you know what the speed limit is here?" I falter, thinking. Damn, I really don't.
"No, sir."
"It's twenty-five. Do you know how fast you were going?"
"No, sir."
"Forty-four."
"Oh, wow."
"I saw your plates; you with the rescue squad?"
"Yes, sir."
"Which one?"
"Clearview."
"Oh wow...you're a good drive from home then, aren't you? How long you been with them?"
"About a year and a half now."
"Drive the box for them?"
"Yes, sir, I really love it out there."
"A speeding ticket probably wouldn't look too good, would it? In fact, they probably wouldn't let you drive," he muses aloud. You know, I wasn't even going to pull you over; I hate to antagonize you rescue types. I never know when you're going to be saving me and mine, so unless you're being really dangerous I just leave you all alone for the most part." He pauses and looks around, scratching his head.
"You weren't being reckless at all; you probably just thought it was the part of the street up there where it is faster." He points off into the night as if I'm supposed to see past the turn. I nod in agreement anyway.
"I just wanted to stop you so you would know how fast you were going in case you ran into someone who wasn't as nice as I am. You have a clean record I'm sure, or else you wouldn't be driving the box and you wouldn't be shaking like a leaf here. I saw your campus parking decal on your car, so you're obviously not from around here; you don't know the streets. Well, just slow down, okay? You're a good kid, I can tell."
"You can tell? I've said roughly fifteen words to you, half of which have been 'sir'. But hey, who am I to argue with your good judgment?" I nod agressively, fiddling with my bracelet.
"Thank you so much, officer. I didn't mean to speed; I'll slow down."
"10-4, young lady. You be safe on these streets; there are some crazy people out here."
"Yes sir I will. Have a good night."
"You too; keep us safe, now," he says with a tap on the side of my car. I laugh as I put my license away and slide my car into first gear. I set my cruise control on twenty-seven and call Drew.
"You know those rescue plates we have?"
"Yeah?"
"They're golden."
To all you police officers out there--thank you, thank you, thank you for looking out for us EMS types. Beyond the whole getting-me-out-of-a-ticket thing, I just really appreciate the fact that you always have our backs on and off duty. You're truly great people.
Yours,
Sam
3.24.2008
Interview Update in Blog Form
At 8:30am, I pull into the parking lot. "Shiiiiit," I say, realizing that I have a good wait ahead of me due to my obsessive compulsive nature. I tap my foot against the clutch nervously and check my watch roughly every thirty seconds. A crow lands on the hood of my car, cocks his head to one side and glares at me through the windshield. I stare him down as he waddles closer.
"What," I ask through the glass. He turns his head the other way. "You think I'm not going to get the job, don't you?" An attractive transport medic makes his way from the building to the ambulance, and I duck so fast I smack my head against my gear shift; the crow flies away.
"Stop. Talking. To. Crows."
8:37am and I'm getting restless. I pull out my camera and take stupid pictures of myself to make the time go faster. I look good for the interview, I might as well commemorate the occasion.
I'm getting restless. I start running through interview questions in my mind. "What do you feel you can bring to the company." "What are your biggest strengths and weaknesses as a provider?" I start panicking when I can't even answer my own questions.
What if they don't like me? What if I stutter or I use infantile words? What if I have something in my teeth the whole time, or when I go to shake his hand I sneeze in his face?
Finally, I take a deep breath and remind myself that I'm a good EMT with a great résumé. I'm going to be fine. Getting out of my car, I smooth out the new wrinkles in my just-ironed skirt suit. I call the number on the slip of paper in my hand and breathe.
"Hi, Michael? This is Sam Montgomery, I'm here for a 9am interview and you told me to call so you could let me in? Thanks so much!"
I see him coming to the door and I take a final deep breath before plastering that professional look across my face.
"Samantha, come on in!"
"Sam Montgomery," I say holding out my hand with a smile, "so great to finally meet you!"
He leads me inside past a line of various medics changing shifts who all turn to look; I realize I must look a bit out of place with my green suit and clicking high heels, but I nod at them with a smile and follow Michael into his office.
I fill out some papers that will allow the company to dig into every aspect of my past. I don't really mind--in 18, nearly 19, years of life, I haven't done anything that they should care too much about--well, nothing bad, anyway. He tells me about company policies and different kinds of schedules I can request. After a long pause, he pulls out a few pieces of paper and a pen, clicks it a few times and looks up.
"So, Samantha, tell me about yourself."
"Really, Michael? You want me to tell you about myself? What do you want to know? Want me to tell you how I'm a test tube baby? Or how about the way I love the color green? I wear a perfume that smells vaguely of vanilla and sometimes of apples, and when I'm angry you can hear my texan accent. You want to give me a more vague question, Michael?" I stammer. "Well...I'm..." I take a deep breath and look him straight in the eye with a smile. "I'm a college student right now, and as I transition from childhood to adulthood, I've come to realize that it's time for me to start taking responsibility for my life. I've grown up in the medical field and been in EMS for about the past year and a half, so becoming a part of your company seemed like a natural choice. I'm a compassionate and intelligent person, and I combine the two well in my patient care. I get along well with others and truly enjoy the camaraderie I find within EMS partnerships." I see him trying to write down "camaraderie" with an "o" thrown in there somewhere--he scratches it out and writes "friendship" instead.
We go through the whole rigmarole of questions, and then he looks up from the sheet which is by now completely covered in notes.
"Samantha, do you have any questions for me?"
"Actually, yes. I know that your orientation process is a full-time week. As a current college student, however, I cannot take the time right now to complete this should I be offered employment. Do you have any information or advice about this?"
"Samant--Sam," he says with a smile, "let me tell you something. You are an exceptional candidate. You have impressed me greatly; I can't even begin to tell you. When we--er--should we offer you employment, I can make a great case to my boss as to why we need to push back your orientation to May. You can absolutely finish out the semester before beginning orientation. I wouldn't normally do this, but if I feel a candidate is strong enough, I will definitely make exceptions to the rule. Do you understand?" I blush a little and nod.
"Yes, sir, thank you very much." We finish up a few final formalities, and I stand up and shake his hand, thanking him for meeting with me. I turn around after gathering my things and see two medics behind me, staring holes through me, both with smiles on their faces. I smile awkwardly, wondering how much of my interview they heard, when one of them winks and says, "welcome aboard."
Ithink hope I nailed it!
"What," I ask through the glass. He turns his head the other way. "You think I'm not going to get the job, don't you?" An attractive transport medic makes his way from the building to the ambulance, and I duck so fast I smack my head against my gear shift; the crow flies away.
"Stop. Talking. To. Crows."
8:37am and I'm getting restless. I pull out my camera and take stupid pictures of myself to make the time go faster. I look good for the interview, I might as well commemorate the occasion.
I'm getting restless. I start running through interview questions in my mind. "What do you feel you can bring to the company." "What are your biggest strengths and weaknesses as a provider?" I start panicking when I can't even answer my own questions.
What if they don't like me? What if I stutter or I use infantile words? What if I have something in my teeth the whole time, or when I go to shake his hand I sneeze in his face?
Finally, I take a deep breath and remind myself that I'm a good EMT with a great résumé. I'm going to be fine. Getting out of my car, I smooth out the new wrinkles in my just-ironed skirt suit. I call the number on the slip of paper in my hand and breathe.
"Hi, Michael? This is Sam Montgomery, I'm here for a 9am interview and you told me to call so you could let me in? Thanks so much!"
I see him coming to the door and I take a final deep breath before plastering that professional look across my face.
"Samantha, come on in!"
"Sam Montgomery," I say holding out my hand with a smile, "so great to finally meet you!"
He leads me inside past a line of various medics changing shifts who all turn to look; I realize I must look a bit out of place with my green suit and clicking high heels, but I nod at them with a smile and follow Michael into his office.
I fill out some papers that will allow the company to dig into every aspect of my past. I don't really mind--in 18, nearly 19, years of life, I haven't done anything that they should care too much about--well, nothing bad, anyway. He tells me about company policies and different kinds of schedules I can request. After a long pause, he pulls out a few pieces of paper and a pen, clicks it a few times and looks up.
"So, Samantha, tell me about yourself."
"Really, Michael? You want me to tell you about myself? What do you want to know? Want me to tell you how I'm a test tube baby? Or how about the way I love the color green? I wear a perfume that smells vaguely of vanilla and sometimes of apples, and when I'm angry you can hear my texan accent. You want to give me a more vague question, Michael?" I stammer. "Well...I'm..." I take a deep breath and look him straight in the eye with a smile. "I'm a college student right now, and as I transition from childhood to adulthood, I've come to realize that it's time for me to start taking responsibility for my life. I've grown up in the medical field and been in EMS for about the past year and a half, so becoming a part of your company seemed like a natural choice. I'm a compassionate and intelligent person, and I combine the two well in my patient care. I get along well with others and truly enjoy the camaraderie I find within EMS partnerships." I see him trying to write down "camaraderie" with an "o" thrown in there somewhere--he scratches it out and writes "friendship" instead.
We go through the whole rigmarole of questions, and then he looks up from the sheet which is by now completely covered in notes.
"Samantha, do you have any questions for me?"
"Actually, yes. I know that your orientation process is a full-time week. As a current college student, however, I cannot take the time right now to complete this should I be offered employment. Do you have any information or advice about this?"
"Samant--Sam," he says with a smile, "let me tell you something. You are an exceptional candidate. You have impressed me greatly; I can't even begin to tell you. When we--er--should we offer you employment, I can make a great case to my boss as to why we need to push back your orientation to May. You can absolutely finish out the semester before beginning orientation. I wouldn't normally do this, but if I feel a candidate is strong enough, I will definitely make exceptions to the rule. Do you understand?" I blush a little and nod.
"Yes, sir, thank you very much." We finish up a few final formalities, and I stand up and shake his hand, thanking him for meeting with me. I turn around after gathering my things and see two medics behind me, staring holes through me, both with smiles on their faces. I smile awkwardly, wondering how much of my interview they heard, when one of them winks and says, "welcome aboard."
I
I've got an interview!
Well, wish me luck! At 0900 Monday morning (oy vey, *this* morning!) I've got an interview with a private transport company locally! I'm nervous and excited all at the same time.
Am I particularly interested in doing patient transports all day every day? No (but hey, I'll have a ton to write about!). Do I want to work my ass off for my paycheck? Yes.
I want to work really, really hard every day knowing that I'm earning every cent of the money that's coming to me. I want to know that the job I'm working is a job that I applied for, interviewed for and earned myself. I want to know that I'm an independent woman, and independent Sam.
So wish me luck, world; I'm trying this "living" thing!
I'm so nervous. I'm going to have those "night before the first day of school" dreams, I just know it! I'll let you know how it goes!
--Sam
Am I particularly interested in doing patient transports all day every day? No (but hey, I'll have a ton to write about!). Do I want to work my ass off for my paycheck? Yes.
I want to work really, really hard every day knowing that I'm earning every cent of the money that's coming to me. I want to know that the job I'm working is a job that I applied for, interviewed for and earned myself. I want to know that I'm an independent woman, and independent Sam.
So wish me luck, world; I'm trying this "living" thing!
I'm so nervous. I'm going to have those "night before the first day of school" dreams, I just know it! I'll let you know how it goes!
--Sam
3.20.2008
Favorite ER Nurse
For over a year now, I have worked with a certain nurse doing patient care transfers. At first, I thought she was mean to me because I was new and didn't know my way around the hospital or the system. Then I thought she was mean to me because I was a new EMT and didn't know how to give a report very concisely. Then I thought that she was mean to me because I was bad at what I do and I didn't recognize it. Then I thought that maybe, just maybe, I always managed to catch her on bad days. But tonight, I finally realized that I just needed to write her a letter, and perhaps we could start fresh.
Dear Favorite ER Nurse,
I just wanted to take a few moments out of my incredibly uneventful and underwhelming life to write you a letter to apologize for a few things, and thank you for being such a great mentor.
I am truly sorry that when my partner was calling in his report he failed to mention that our patient was in Stage 4 Metastatic Ovarian Cancer. Because, obviously, that detail is not in her chart, since she has not once been to your facility for treatment of this disease. Also, since she was being transported for a leaking colostomy bag, I apologize that he left out this crucial detail. I really should have caught that and scolded him right off the bat, but I was too busy looking up a big word. The patient said she was bleeding from her...stomuh? Or wait, is it stoemah? Stoma? Regardless. I should have been paying closer attention.
I apologize that while caring for our patient I didn't think to raise the hospital bed so that we could sheet her over. You were in the general vicinity of the foot pedal, and I was on the opposite side and...aw, shit, looking back on it, I definitely should have abandoned patient care to deal with this so that you didn't have to.
Also, I just wanted to say that it's okay that you didn't help us sheet her over from our stretcher to your bed. I know you felt bad because you were busy watching; after so many years in the business, you probably needed to watch a time or two more to make sure you got the technique down pat. Everybody needs to learn! If I can help you figure out any other tricky maneuvers, please be sure to let me know; I'm a great teacher!
But most of all, thank you Favorite ER Nurse, for all your help in these many months that we've worked together. You've instilled a certain sense of confidence in me and my partners, and I really appreciate it. I'm sorry if I've been frustrating at all. I'm a bit green (a pulse-ox reading shows percentage of oxygen in the blood...not percent perfusion!?), and extremely uneducated (can't believe they let me out of high school and into college!). Thank you for putting up with me at all; it's a wonder that anyone can, really.
Sincerely yours,
Sam
As we were riding back to the station, I told Drew, "if I ever get so jaded that I act that way towards my patients or coworkers, pull me aside and tell me it's time to stop." I'm a very nice person...for the most part. I keep my sarcasm to a minimum...for the most part. After tonight, however, I simply could not deal with her particular brand of bitchy another night.
To all the nurses (ER and otherwise) who read, please know that I really, truly appreciate what you do. Most of you are so nice, and I appreciate your help and company so much. I understand bad days more than anyone, but this woman can't seem to have a single good one.
It's time to sleep off the angst.
Dear Favorite ER Nurse,
I just wanted to take a few moments out of my incredibly uneventful and underwhelming life to write you a letter to apologize for a few things, and thank you for being such a great mentor.
I am truly sorry that when my partner was calling in his report he failed to mention that our patient was in Stage 4 Metastatic Ovarian Cancer. Because, obviously, that detail is not in her chart, since she has not once been to your facility for treatment of this disease. Also, since she was being transported for a leaking colostomy bag, I apologize that he left out this crucial detail. I really should have caught that and scolded him right off the bat, but I was too busy looking up a big word. The patient said she was bleeding from her...stomuh? Or wait, is it stoemah? Stoma? Regardless. I should have been paying closer attention.
I apologize that while caring for our patient I didn't think to raise the hospital bed so that we could sheet her over. You were in the general vicinity of the foot pedal, and I was on the opposite side and...aw, shit, looking back on it, I definitely should have abandoned patient care to deal with this so that you didn't have to.
Also, I just wanted to say that it's okay that you didn't help us sheet her over from our stretcher to your bed. I know you felt bad because you were busy watching; after so many years in the business, you probably needed to watch a time or two more to make sure you got the technique down pat. Everybody needs to learn! If I can help you figure out any other tricky maneuvers, please be sure to let me know; I'm a great teacher!
But most of all, thank you Favorite ER Nurse, for all your help in these many months that we've worked together. You've instilled a certain sense of confidence in me and my partners, and I really appreciate it. I'm sorry if I've been frustrating at all. I'm a bit green (a pulse-ox reading shows percentage of oxygen in the blood...not percent perfusion!?), and extremely uneducated (can't believe they let me out of high school and into college!). Thank you for putting up with me at all; it's a wonder that anyone can, really.
Sincerely yours,
Sam
As we were riding back to the station, I told Drew, "if I ever get so jaded that I act that way towards my patients or coworkers, pull me aside and tell me it's time to stop." I'm a very nice person...for the most part. I keep my sarcasm to a minimum...for the most part. After tonight, however, I simply could not deal with her particular brand of bitchy another night.
To all the nurses (ER and otherwise) who read, please know that I really, truly appreciate what you do. Most of you are so nice, and I appreciate your help and company so much. I understand bad days more than anyone, but this woman can't seem to have a single good one.
It's time to sleep off the angst.
3.19.2008
10,000 Hits/Thank You
Epi wrote a really inspiring post that I felt compelled to do as well. It seemed apropos, given the 10,000th hit on my blog, to thank some specific bloggers (alphabetically) who have made an impact on me personally, through their posts, and in other ways they might not even know.
But this is not to mention those of you who read on a daily basis. Thank you, thank you, thank you for everything, guys (and ladies!). You make me so happy; you have no idea.
Ambulance Driver (AD):
It was because of you that I got in to blogging, mainly. A friend linked me to your blog, and I was immediately drawn in. I love your (sometimes acerbic) wit, your way with words, and your insight into things. Can't wait for the book.
Backboads & Band-aids (EE):
A fellow young female college EMT, you have been so much fun to talk to. I love reading your posts because they are so often funny, and always offer an interesting perspective. You're always there to offer a kind word. I love that you update so frequently, because it gives me something to look forward to after a long day.
Forging Iron Man (Scott):
You are such an inspiration. An amazing person who has endured so much and continues to fight through nursing school. I love reading what you have to say, because it ranges from medically interesting posts to video game challenges. I have to say: if I ever fall ill in Cheyenne, I do hope that you're my nurse!
Pink Warm & Dry (EpiJunky):
You, my dear, are unbelievably amazing. I know you didn't do as well in medic school as you had hoped, but your tenacity is phenomenal; I am so proud of you for getting back in the saddle. Your pictures of the day are excellent; your talent is simply wonderful. I love the posts about your children; I hope that one day I can share that kind of love. Thank you for always encouraging me and sharing my hatred for the O2 cascade thing. Ugh. I have a feeling that we would be great friends in real life.
That Paramedic Student Is A Stress Case (Kyle):
You were one of the first people to reach out to me through comments and various other forms of media. I was lucky enough to get to know you at the tail end of your time in medic school, so I got to see you transition from that phase in your life to being a full-blown paramedic; for that I feel truly thankful, because it has encouraged me to pursue my dream. You are an amazing friend, and even though you don't update as often as people wish you would (no, trust me, it's not just me!), I am just happy that I get to know you outside of blogger. I really hope to see you do well in life; make us proud.
Now, obviously there are more people who have influenced me. Mom? Dad? Thanks (you know, for everything). All the friends and family that I have been lucky enough to have in my life have made such a huge impact on me I can't even begin to describe. Various professors, teachers and mentors have changed my life in ways I don't know that I fully comprehend yet (or ever, for that matter).
To "Drew," thank you for always pushing me to be my best. You're a good friend and a great partner, not to mention that you're really easy to write about. Thanks for always reminding me to update, by the way.
To "Eric," you're like an onionbig, round and smelly (sorry, I couldn't resist--you can hit me later); you're full of layers that I have yet to reveal. You're a really good partner who I know will protect me at all costs. Thanks for everything you do.
Point is this--to all of you who I have ever known, talked to, or encountered: thanks. You've all made me who I am today, and for that I am truly grateful.
Gosh, now that I've gone and written some kind of graduation speech, I'm going to go put on my uniform and get ready for a good night. Expect some kind of update tonight or tomorrow (if we get something I feel I can write about, haha)!
Yours,
Sam
But this is not to mention those of you who read on a daily basis. Thank you, thank you, thank you for everything, guys (and ladies!). You make me so happy; you have no idea.
Ambulance Driver (AD):
It was because of you that I got in to blogging, mainly. A friend linked me to your blog, and I was immediately drawn in. I love your (sometimes acerbic) wit, your way with words, and your insight into things. Can't wait for the book.
Backboads & Band-aids (EE):
A fellow young female college EMT, you have been so much fun to talk to. I love reading your posts because they are so often funny, and always offer an interesting perspective. You're always there to offer a kind word. I love that you update so frequently, because it gives me something to look forward to after a long day.
Forging Iron Man (Scott):
You are such an inspiration. An amazing person who has endured so much and continues to fight through nursing school. I love reading what you have to say, because it ranges from medically interesting posts to video game challenges. I have to say: if I ever fall ill in Cheyenne, I do hope that you're my nurse!
Pink Warm & Dry (EpiJunky):
You, my dear, are unbelievably amazing. I know you didn't do as well in medic school as you had hoped, but your tenacity is phenomenal; I am so proud of you for getting back in the saddle. Your pictures of the day are excellent; your talent is simply wonderful. I love the posts about your children; I hope that one day I can share that kind of love. Thank you for always encouraging me and sharing my hatred for the O2 cascade thing. Ugh. I have a feeling that we would be great friends in real life.
That Paramedic Student Is A Stress Case (Kyle):
You were one of the first people to reach out to me through comments and various other forms of media. I was lucky enough to get to know you at the tail end of your time in medic school, so I got to see you transition from that phase in your life to being a full-blown paramedic; for that I feel truly thankful, because it has encouraged me to pursue my dream. You are an amazing friend, and even though you don't update as often as people wish you would (no, trust me, it's not just me!), I am just happy that I get to know you outside of blogger. I really hope to see you do well in life; make us proud.
Now, obviously there are more people who have influenced me. Mom? Dad? Thanks (you know, for everything). All the friends and family that I have been lucky enough to have in my life have made such a huge impact on me I can't even begin to describe. Various professors, teachers and mentors have changed my life in ways I don't know that I fully comprehend yet (or ever, for that matter).
To "Drew," thank you for always pushing me to be my best. You're a good friend and a great partner, not to mention that you're really easy to write about. Thanks for always reminding me to update, by the way.
To "Eric," you're like an onion
Point is this--to all of you who I have ever known, talked to, or encountered: thanks. You've all made me who I am today, and for that I am truly grateful.
Gosh, now that I've gone and written some kind of graduation speech, I'm going to go put on my uniform and get ready for a good night. Expect some kind of update tonight or tomorrow (if we get something I feel I can write about, haha)!
Yours,
Sam
3.16.2008
Things
Updated the blog roll (pick a random link and go say "hi!").
Thought up new post ideas.
Worked my butt off during Spring "Break."
Saw "Atonement" (Very good).
Spent some much needed time with my family and best friends.
Figured out when/where to do my research (hello New York City!).
Finished another thing off my list.
Decided to write a book now rather than later.
Life is pretty good.
Also, as it turns out, my grandparents read the blog! Hi Pop-pop and Grandma!
I'll have a new post up soon, I hope!
--Sam
Thought up new post ideas.
Worked my butt off during Spring "Break."
Saw "Atonement" (Very good).
Spent some much needed time with my family and best friends.
Figured out when/where to do my research (hello New York City!).
Finished another thing off my list.
Decided to write a book now rather than later.
Life is pretty good.
Also, as it turns out, my grandparents read the blog! Hi Pop-pop and Grandma!
I'll have a new post up soon, I hope!
--Sam
3.11.2008
Sweet Baby James
The trailer is the last one on the right, pressed up against the infinite night sky. I swear I can see everything and nothing at the same time in that sky as I round the corner to search for the stairs. Eric shines a flashlight at the ground and I see the beginnings of a step. With one foot reaching out for it, I look up.
"Shit!" I jump back into Eric, who catches me around the waist without hesitation, pulling me away from whatever unseen danger I encountered. He starts laughing as he sees what startled me; a big dog as black as the night around it sits happily on the steps, wagging his tail and panting heavily. Drew rounds the corner and laughs as he approaches the dog.
"Good boy," he says approvingly, "you show her." He growls at me jokingly as I try to calm myself before knocking on the door.
The wall of heat hits me first, followed quickly by a disarming smell. I put my arm up to my nose, and steady myself as I begin breathing through my mouth. A roach skitters across the floor and finds refuge under the TV. I want to leave. I want to go back to the station and curl up under my clean blanket while I breathe fresh air. I don't really care where I go as long as it's away from this trailer with this smell.
My eyes lock on the little boy sitting on his mother's lap. I take a deep breath and remind myself why I'm here.
"Baby," I mutter under my breath, "febrile seizure."
We waste no time on scene, and the family lends us their car seat to use to transport their baby, James. Securing the seat onto our stretcher, Drew falters.
"Um, Sam," he says unsure of what to do. I see him trying to buckle James in, but the latch simply won't catch. Laughing, I move the buckle to the proper position and press down firmly. The seat responds with a satisfying "click!" and Drew shakes his head.
"What would I do without you," he asks with a wink.
I sit down on the end of the stretcher and start getting a set of vitals as we head towards the hospital. I stick a pedi-pulse-ox on his finger and secure it. James looks at me, looks down at his finger, looks back at me and lets out a sigh.
"You're kidding, right?" I can almost see his thought process and I laugh. Drew notices his frustration and breaks out one of the stuffed animals we keep stocked on the rig. I smile and hand the bear to James who looks at it warily.
"It's okay, you can have him," Drew says softly.
"I think we should name him, don't you?" Drew looks at me with a look that says, "He can't even talk yet, why would he care about naming the stupid thing?"
"We should definitely name him," I say more emphatically this time. "How does David sound?" Drew plays his part and nods sheepishly.
"David sounds like a great name, Sam." I tuck David in with James who reluctantly decides that this bear might be okay after all. Every once in a while, he gives me a little smile accompanied by a slight noise. It's obvious that he favors Drew, however, as he continually offers him the bear.
"One of us has to be the bad guy," Drew notes as he shows me the glucometer.
"I'll do it," I say, thinking how James favors him anyway. I prick his finger and he barely moves. He looks at me as if to say, "was that really necessary," and then he shoots Drew an annoyed look.
"I know, little man," Drew says without missing a beat, "she's mean."
James reaches out for my hand and squeezes my finger when I oblige. For a second I get lost in the moment. In the ambulance windows, I can see the reflection of my long red hair cascading in soft curls down my back. I can see Drew talking to James through the teddy bear as if it were animated itself, and James squeezing my finger tightly as he giggles softly back.
Feeling him let go of my finger, I turn back around. Drew is writing something down on his clipboard, and I focus on James. A small bug crawls out of his hair, across his forehead and pauses there for a moment. Without hesitation I reach over, pull it off of him and smash it. Normally I'd put it outside, but at 60mph in an ambulance driven by Eric, I resort to smashing. As I flick the dead offender into the trash can, I feel suddenly sad.
The happiness of that moment is gone, I realize as James closes his eyes sleepily. The car seat is crawling with the tiny bugs, Drew notes, and regardless of James' many smiles and little noises, I feel inexorably sad.
No matter how good the care is I provide for him, no matter how much I make him smile, when he goes home, nothing will be different. His trailer will still smell of smoke, rotting meat and ammonia. His car seat will still be covered with bugs. Nothing I do for him will change any of that.
And as we arrive to the hospital, I give his hands a little squeeze.
"Did the best we could," Drew says as he pats my shoulder knowingly.
"I wish I could have done more," I say quietly. He tousles my hair playfully and I smile reluctantly.
Eric comes around the corner, nods his head in my direction and says, "so, how about that dog?"
"Shit!" I jump back into Eric, who catches me around the waist without hesitation, pulling me away from whatever unseen danger I encountered. He starts laughing as he sees what startled me; a big dog as black as the night around it sits happily on the steps, wagging his tail and panting heavily. Drew rounds the corner and laughs as he approaches the dog.
"Good boy," he says approvingly, "you show her." He growls at me jokingly as I try to calm myself before knocking on the door.
The wall of heat hits me first, followed quickly by a disarming smell. I put my arm up to my nose, and steady myself as I begin breathing through my mouth. A roach skitters across the floor and finds refuge under the TV. I want to leave. I want to go back to the station and curl up under my clean blanket while I breathe fresh air. I don't really care where I go as long as it's away from this trailer with this smell.
My eyes lock on the little boy sitting on his mother's lap. I take a deep breath and remind myself why I'm here.
"Baby," I mutter under my breath, "febrile seizure."
We waste no time on scene, and the family lends us their car seat to use to transport their baby, James. Securing the seat onto our stretcher, Drew falters.
"Um, Sam," he says unsure of what to do. I see him trying to buckle James in, but the latch simply won't catch. Laughing, I move the buckle to the proper position and press down firmly. The seat responds with a satisfying "click!" and Drew shakes his head.
"What would I do without you," he asks with a wink.
I sit down on the end of the stretcher and start getting a set of vitals as we head towards the hospital. I stick a pedi-pulse-ox on his finger and secure it. James looks at me, looks down at his finger, looks back at me and lets out a sigh.
"You're kidding, right?" I can almost see his thought process and I laugh. Drew notices his frustration and breaks out one of the stuffed animals we keep stocked on the rig. I smile and hand the bear to James who looks at it warily.
"It's okay, you can have him," Drew says softly.
"I think we should name him, don't you?" Drew looks at me with a look that says, "He can't even talk yet, why would he care about naming the stupid thing?"
"We should definitely name him," I say more emphatically this time. "How does David sound?" Drew plays his part and nods sheepishly.
"David sounds like a great name, Sam." I tuck David in with James who reluctantly decides that this bear might be okay after all. Every once in a while, he gives me a little smile accompanied by a slight noise. It's obvious that he favors Drew, however, as he continually offers him the bear.
"One of us has to be the bad guy," Drew notes as he shows me the glucometer.
"I'll do it," I say, thinking how James favors him anyway. I prick his finger and he barely moves. He looks at me as if to say, "was that really necessary," and then he shoots Drew an annoyed look.
"I know, little man," Drew says without missing a beat, "she's mean."
James reaches out for my hand and squeezes my finger when I oblige. For a second I get lost in the moment. In the ambulance windows, I can see the reflection of my long red hair cascading in soft curls down my back. I can see Drew talking to James through the teddy bear as if it were animated itself, and James squeezing my finger tightly as he giggles softly back.
Feeling him let go of my finger, I turn back around. Drew is writing something down on his clipboard, and I focus on James. A small bug crawls out of his hair, across his forehead and pauses there for a moment. Without hesitation I reach over, pull it off of him and smash it. Normally I'd put it outside, but at 60mph in an ambulance driven by Eric, I resort to smashing. As I flick the dead offender into the trash can, I feel suddenly sad.
The happiness of that moment is gone, I realize as James closes his eyes sleepily. The car seat is crawling with the tiny bugs, Drew notes, and regardless of James' many smiles and little noises, I feel inexorably sad.
No matter how good the care is I provide for him, no matter how much I make him smile, when he goes home, nothing will be different. His trailer will still smell of smoke, rotting meat and ammonia. His car seat will still be covered with bugs. Nothing I do for him will change any of that.
And as we arrive to the hospital, I give his hands a little squeeze.
"Did the best we could," Drew says as he pats my shoulder knowingly.
"I wish I could have done more," I say quietly. He tousles my hair playfully and I smile reluctantly.
Eric comes around the corner, nods his head in my direction and says, "so, how about that dog?"
3.07.2008
Rain
The rain beats down heavily on my windshield as I wait for the light to change. My driver's side window is open, as I listen to the sound the water makes as it smacks against the road and my outstretched hand. My hair is sopping wet, still dripping puddles onto my now see-through shirt. I shiver slightly, but I'm not truly cold. Two boys stand on the corner next to me, waiting for their turn to cross the street.
Death Cab for Cutie sings to me of being loved one day as the light turns green. I don't let up on the break, as I see a fire engine approaching. Unlike the drivers I deal with constantly, I wait my turn. The light turns back to red as soon as they pass. Normally I'd be upset, anxious to get home, but tonight I am content letting the rain run in rivulets down my arm. I faintly hear the boys next to me over the fading sound of the siren.
"Dude, do you think we should pray for them and wherever they're going?"
"Yeah, for sure." Their adolescent diction sounds so foreign in the context. I watch them stand together, hands clasped in front of them, heads bowed. No words; just the sound of my windshield wipers beating away the persistent rain. I turn them off and listen to the sound. The siren carries on faintly in the background as the lightning strikes and my soul rattles along with the thunder. Rain beats a steady tempo on the hood of my car. Death Cab carries on, telling me that I'll find my true love soon enough, but the silence is there.
You may feel alone when you're falling asleep
And everytime tears roll down your cheeks
But I know your heart belongs to someone you've yet to meet
Someday you will be loved
I feel shivers run down my spine as I gingerly touch the mizpah coin hanging around my neck. Every time the tones drop, I silently ask that my partners and I be kept safe, and that if I should die on this call, that those I love know that I love them. But I never really stopped to think from the other side of things. Who prays for me when I run through red lights with my siren blaring? Who prays for my patients, or for their families? I glance over at the boys still frozen in prayer.
They do.
As the light turns green, I let up on the clutch slowly, driving through the empty intersection as quietly as possible. I catch sight of them in my rear-view mirror as the lightning flashes; I see them captured in that moment each time I close my eyes.
And the rain falls hard on my hand as the world carries on outside of that street corner which will remain forever seared in my memory.
Death Cab for Cutie sings to me of being loved one day as the light turns green. I don't let up on the break, as I see a fire engine approaching. Unlike the drivers I deal with constantly, I wait my turn. The light turns back to red as soon as they pass. Normally I'd be upset, anxious to get home, but tonight I am content letting the rain run in rivulets down my arm. I faintly hear the boys next to me over the fading sound of the siren.
"Dude, do you think we should pray for them and wherever they're going?"
"Yeah, for sure." Their adolescent diction sounds so foreign in the context. I watch them stand together, hands clasped in front of them, heads bowed. No words; just the sound of my windshield wipers beating away the persistent rain. I turn them off and listen to the sound. The siren carries on faintly in the background as the lightning strikes and my soul rattles along with the thunder. Rain beats a steady tempo on the hood of my car. Death Cab carries on, telling me that I'll find my true love soon enough, but the silence is there.
You may feel alone when you're falling asleep
And everytime tears roll down your cheeks
But I know your heart belongs to someone you've yet to meet
Someday you will be loved
I feel shivers run down my spine as I gingerly touch the mizpah coin hanging around my neck. Every time the tones drop, I silently ask that my partners and I be kept safe, and that if I should die on this call, that those I love know that I love them. But I never really stopped to think from the other side of things. Who prays for me when I run through red lights with my siren blaring? Who prays for my patients, or for their families? I glance over at the boys still frozen in prayer.
They do.
As the light turns green, I let up on the clutch slowly, driving through the empty intersection as quietly as possible. I catch sight of them in my rear-view mirror as the lightning flashes; I see them captured in that moment each time I close my eyes.
And the rain falls hard on my hand as the world carries on outside of that street corner which will remain forever seared in my memory.
3.06.2008
Other Sams
So, Scott over at Forging Iron Man had this habit of writing stories revolving around "Sam," who was either a nasty man or a devilish mannequin. I was always giving him hell about it because it was making us good Sams look bad! After a bout with writers' block, he decided to write a story about a girl named Samantha who is pretty kick ass.
You should definitely go check it out here and then read some of his greatest hits.
All the strong female Samanthas in the world thank you, Scott!
Two new posts in the work, by the way. Expect at least one tonight.
--Sam
You should definitely go check it out here and then read some of his greatest hits.
All the strong female Samanthas in the world thank you, Scott!
Two new posts in the work, by the way. Expect at least one tonight.
--Sam
3.03.2008
Published!
Alright, this has nothing to do with EMS, writing, or anything that I tend to talk about here. However, my dad just brought it to my attention that the letter to the editor I wrote back in early January was actually published.
AD, now you and I are both in the Wall Street Journal ;)
Anyway, if you're interested, you can read it here. It's not very exciting or long, but hey, it's an accomplishment!
I'll write again soon,
Sam
AD, now you and I are both in the Wall Street Journal ;)
Anyway, if you're interested, you can read it here. It's not very exciting or long, but hey, it's an accomplishment!
I'll write again soon,
Sam
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