A busier day...

Started the day right off with a call for 33yom diabetic pt, unresponsive. When we arrive on scene, turns out that (a) it's a woman (b) she's AOx3 and (c) her husband called 911 back to report her BGL was now up to 66 and we could be cancelled. Shows how often things get lost in translation.

Later in the morning dispatched to a 30yom seizing. Arrive on scene to find a guy crumped on the floor by the door, reportedly seizing for around 30 mins. No obvious IV access, so 2mg of Versed IN. Backboarded and into the ambulance, eventually get a line and off to the ED. Love the MAD !

Went to bed early since I have to work tomorrow, and sure enough get woken up around midnight to a 60yom with chest pain. Turns out he's a frequent flyer with a long med list and history whose biggest problems appear to be anxiety. A sign off.

To round out the day, called for lift assist for an elderly man who'd fallen out of his chair. Back up he goes, in time to catch the Olympics on TV. Now back to bed...

Day 5

Weekend 24. Not a whole heck of a lot. While everyone else is digging out from 'snowpocalypse', we have barely a flake. Just one call for an 83yo lady with possible TIA.

Hope things pick up in the spring, because the tedious monotony will kill me.

Nada.

First 24 hour shift yesterday. I think I must be bringing my white cloud, because we didn't go anywhere. All day. All night. Nothing. There are only so many time you can wash a truck, check and stock. This makes 60 hours in a row between this and my other job without a SINGLE call. I hope and pray it changes before I go out of my mind...

Day 3

First time on as solo Medic today. Bit nerve wracking, but I'll get over it. Yesterday was a no call today - learning that it's OK to sit around and do nothing (unlike my FD job where there's always something to do)

49yo female MVC rollover on an icy back road. Managed to take out a mailbox and roll it into a snowbank without a ton of vehicle damage. Signoff.

14 month old difficulty breathing. Cute kid - some congenital heart problems. Bit of a pucker factor on the way to the call, but he ended up being easily manageable and quite compliant.

86yo male with unilateral weakness. FAST was negative, he has alzheimers so it's kind of hard to get a good history out of him since he has lower extremity weakness to begin with. Then again he has a history of TIA so better safe than sorry.

Fairly busy day in an 8 hour shift.

Day 1

Getting to know the rigs, what is where, which ambulances work better, where all the good drugs are and how to get at them. How all the monitors work (God how I hate Zoll monitors).

Intercept for a BLS crew who thought their patient was tanking. Turned out that nothing really emergent was going on, but hey - it got us out of the station.

Call to the boonies for a 25yo female patient with psych problems who got into an argument with Mom and was afraid she'd get out of control. A long ride to the hospital.

A short and relatively mellow day that thankfully flew by.

Return

I hadn't even looked at this blog in a very long time, so I was happily surprised when I returned to it and read my old posts.

In this day and age, the habit of keeping a diary is one that few people maintain. Reading my own thoughts as a retrospective is cathartic - it helps to put time into a measurable perspective. Maybe life isn't flowing by me at a chaotic pace, after all. Something tangible - lasting, even - happened in the months past that I thought were lost....

There once may have been an expectation of 'audience' when publishing thoughts to a public space such as this. What I realize now is that it is as much a conversation with myself in formulating a thought and expressing it in writing. That's not so bad. What I have discovered in reading these old thoughts anew, is that the audience is really ME. Kind of like talking to yourself on a crowded bus. Sort of.


(I don't really mind if anyone else happens upon it, and if you do find yourself here, feel free to leave me a comment)

On the trains...

How DO you find the time ?

To all and any who care (and this list is small and limited) I have been a bit absent lately, I know. In my defense, I have been a tad busy. I have also been a tad unmotivated to put virtual pen to paper. Work, life, house, EMT class, kids, house, life, EMT class, ambulance calls and firemans balls. Busy, busy, busy.

I admire all of you who find the time and the inspiration to write something more than just a few paragraphs of drivel on a daily basis. I doff my cap to you, I do.

In big news, tomorrow is my 'naturalization' interview. It's where I get to find out if I'm eligible to join the club of American Citizens. Could be a big day. I'll let you know.

Now I'm off to be busy again.

No bones about it

I have a new found respect for all those in the medical profession.

I'm in the process of reviewing anatomy for my EMT-B Class, and let me tell you - there's a LOT to know. The amazing thing is that I'm not even scratching the surface - we're only learning the real basic stuff. My naturally inquisitive nature often wants a bit more perspective, so this handy web reference certainly gives that. It's then that you realize just how much STUFF your average med student and/or doctor has bouncing around in their noggin (and how many bits there are inside this fleshy bag we call a body).

Of course, they also have to remember all the OTHER stuff, like diseases and ailments, medications, procedures and such. It's no small wonder that medical school takes so long. It is a small wonder that so many people make it. God bless 'em.

Still, with all that knowledge it still ticks me off when I'm sick. After two weeks of suffering I finally drag myself to the doctor (or more correctly, my wife made me go). Expecting final relief after my period of stoic suffering, I'm disappointed to discover that it's probably viral and that I should 'take 4 ibuprofen' when I need them. Er, thanks - I already figured that one out.

Anyway, today is now officially 'Hug a Medical Professional Day'.

Oh, well, it's actually Martin Luther King, Jr. Day - so maybe tomorrow ?

Surrender

So, I gave in.

For the first time EVER, I have allowed another carpenter (dare I say a PROFESSIONAL Carpenter) to work on my house.

I think I've just reached the point where I really want stuff to get finished, and I'm tired of doing it myself. I made a valiant effort with the porch - I got the thing 80% done before snow and had a roof on. I spent countless days nailing and finishing the floor. I spent cold days up ladders nailing on trim.

I have exceeded my personal budget of enthusiasm, and when the opportunity arose for a friend of mine who is a carpenter to spend some time on it, I gave in.

Now, I can safely say that there is NOTHING quite so nice as sitting on the couch and hearing the sounds of someone else sawing, nailing and banging away.

Still, I'd better not get used to it. My wallet can't take this kind of luxury for too long....

Nicole Kidman !

So, I did not see Nicole Kidman today. I had no brush with stardom.

I'll admit that I'm quite fond of Nicole. I think she is a very attractive woman, and a good actress to boot. I loved 'The Interpreter'.

So, I was a bit sad to hear that she was here in our teeny little town, hanging out in our teeny little coffee shop (Green Tea with Jasmine, apparently, in case you were wondering), mere yards from my upstairs office space. I missed out.

Oh well. Next time. Wonder how many Google hits I'll get from people searching for 'Naked Nicole Kidman Pictures' ? Oops.

Happy Hangover

For all those who, unlike myself, partied long and wild. Happy New Year !

There will be a year when I stay up past 10 O'Clock. Maybe when the kids are older. Then again, maybe I'm just not cut out for the job of drunken reveler. Some of us just don't have it in us, I guess. There's always the sensible one in every crowd, and maybe I am that person.

Oh well. Happy Hangovers to all the people that carried out their duties and partied hard for the rest us.

It's all uphill from here

The Winter Solstice is here ! Things aren't as bad in Vermont as they can be in other parts of the world, where the sun barely makes an appearance during the short winter months and people go nuts without daylight. Still, it gets pretty cold and wintry and it is nice to know that you are headed (theoretically) for Spring.

Last night some friends of ours threw their first (annual) Solstice Party, which was a lot of fun. Part of the festivities included a nighttime snow shoe hike. Since they live across the street from our neighborhood ski resort, we started off straight up one of the runs to the top of the hill. About five minutes in I wished that I hadn't started the second beer a half an hour before, and another five minutes after that I began to regret having layered up for the Arctic cold (I should point out that the windchill was forecast to be 5 degrees F or -15 celsius). Rather than suffering hypothermia, the opposite was starting to be true and I was dying of the heat. Despite all of this, I managed to drag my ass up the remainder of the hike, briefly enjoy the pristine hilltop view, and then slither back down the hill.

As a demonstration of how bad this made me feel, I wasn't able to drink another beer for at least 30 minutes.

So, a lesson learned. Don't overdress, since it's just as bad as wearing too little. I guess I could have stopped to de-layer, but once you've got your groove on (and your teeth are gritted), there's just no stopping.

Nevertheless, a great thing to do on the solstice, and hopefully a winter tradition.

You'd better not poot

Last month we finally bit the bullet and moved my son out of his crib and into his 'big boy' bed. I'd been resisting this move a little, since I was quite happy with the status quo and feared the consequences of having a lively 2 1/2 year old bouncing around his room at all hours of the day and night.

The first weeks were a little 'challenging', shall we say. He didn't really enjoy the process and would stand wailing at the safety gate erected in his doorway, until finally becoming too tired and falling asleep, often on the floor. On one occasion he awoke at 3am and turned on his lights, playing loudly. It didn't take us long to figure out that unscrewing the lightbulb in the fixture would be a good idea.

Anyhoo, the upshot of all of this is that he's now awake earlier and opens his door first thing. Now that he's over the 'screaming to come get me' phase, it's actually fairly fun to lie in bed and listen to his little monologue.

These days, he is performing an enthusiastic rendition of 'Santa Claus is coming to town'. He does know a good number of the words, and those he doesn't are more than made up for by both sheer volume and repeating the previous line, or substituting 'You'd better not poot, you'd better not cry' (I am spelling 'poot' per his pronunciation).

He has yet to scale the gate and break free from the bonds of parental oppression, but the day cannot be far away. I have already caught his sister passing him step stools over the gate to construct a rickety tower. You have to be impressed at their organization, improvisation and ingenuity, though.

I just hope that after Christmas is done we can get him to switch to another tune, or we'll be hearing 'Santa Claus....' until Easter.

It can't be this easy...

I am feeling no stress. Not even the tiniest little bit.

Which makes me worried. Normally around this time of year, I'm feeling harried and hurried preparing for Christmas. Not that I personally have a LOT to do, you understand, just that I have a tendency to be a bit of a procrastinator.

I think two major factors could be involved in this unusual pre holiday serenity. Firstly, I only have one person to shop for - my wife. She in turn buys gifts for the other 300 people on her list. ("Oh, but you HAVE to buy a gift for that nice man that dropped off our refrigerator two years ago - he was sooo helpful"). Secondly, we moved to Vermont. I don't mean to indicate some kind of Bermuda Triangle calming effect, but since we are a bit farther from a large variety of shops, you tend to either plan ahead or shop online (which mostly also requires planning ahead).

All of the other sundry Christmassy things appear to have fallen in line, and I can't thing of anything I should be worried about. Not a thing. Did I MISS something ? It just can't be this easy.

Incidentally, gift shopping for my super spouse was completed before the month of December even began. Now THAT'S organization !

Brrrr

Even Brass monkeys would be migrating.

Ah, Luxury

It's nice once in a while to really splash out and do something decadent. It's even nicer if it involves a babysitter and two nights away without the kids. Woohoo !

I took my lovely wife to Boston for a two day break, and BOY did we have fun. We shopped (too much), we dined (too much), we drank (waay too much) and we even got cultural at the Museum of Fine Art's Ansel Adams exhibit. I'd highly recommend the latter if you're in or near Boston. I've been a fan of his work for a while, but this exhibit has some very rare pieces that will surprise and educate you to the truly varied work of this genius artist.

I'm too relaxed to think of anything more creative. I'm sure normal life will resume again very soon.

Small town, small life ?

I wonder sometimes what it must be like to live and die in the same place, never moving, never exploring a wider world.

There are generally two types of locals in this town that would fit this description.

The first is of the 'glass half full' mentality, fully of the mind that there isn't anything much worth exploring outside of the immediate area and that this is simply the most wonderful place that God ever made. Ever cheerful, helpful and friendly this individual is known and respected by almost everyone. The reassurance and sense of self that comes from knowing every facet of your surroundings must be wonderful.

The other is rather less appealing. The 'miserable bugger' seems unable to leave what he deems as a shithole of a town, and so drags out every day life with all of the enthusiasm of a child on the way to a dentist's appointment. He'll waste no opportunity to gripe and tell you about how the place has gone downhill, point out all of its shortcomings and generally spread his dark cloud in your direction. He seems to lack the courage to do anything else and so remains locked in the same daily cycle of life, doomed to live out his days in small town hell.

I think we're pretty lucky that most local residents who can claim to be 'true locals' fall into the first category - maybe that's what makes this place so special for those of us who come late to living here.

Since I left 'home' pretty early in life, I'll never know what it's like to have the same constant of place. Maybe that's a good thing.

It's got to be real...

Tomorrow, my little family will set out on our annual hunting expedition. We'll go armed with warm clothing, sharp implements and keen eyes for picking out the perfect specimen.

I like to do things the old fashioned way.

Sure you get buy them at the supermarket, the gas station or many vendors who dot the streets at this time of year. Somehow, going out and wrestling the thing with your own bare hands just adds to the experience. A little snow on the ground only adds to the festive feel.

Nope, Deer season is over. Now it's Christmas Tree season.

Living here in Vermont, there's no shortage of tree farms that cater to the 'cut it yourself' crowd. Searching row upon row of potential candidates adds to the excitement of finding that pine with the perfect symmetry, right height and correct degree of bushiness. There follows some crawling around on the ground, pruning of lower limbs and general huffing and puffing as the bow saw is put to use toppling the lucky winner.

At this point one realizes that it's a half mile uphill back to the car, dragging an 80 pound conifer. It's all good exercise, right ?

Still, nothing beats the aroma of a real pine tree at Christmas. We've never had a fake one, and I just cannot imagine they're the same. Not only is the smell different, but where's the fun in dragging a dusty old box out of the attic every year ?

Give me the thrill of the hunt anytime.

Oh Lord, another one

You just can't slow down old Father Time. His brother, The Grim Reaper, needs the business.

Yes follks, it's my birthday again. Happens every year. I'm not really morbid about the whole thing - it's more a sense of resignation that there's not a darn thing I can do about it.

I'm enjoying my thirties, and I'll be sad to see them go. No doubt I'll probably enjoy my forties, too, but I'm rather attached to this decade of life and would love to keep it indefinitely.

Possibly the biggest redeeming factor about the advance of years is the increasing enjoymnet and wonder that I experience as a parent.

I do enjoy the odd present here and there. I most certainly enjoy a Birthday dinner. The best gift I've had all day is the hug and 'Happy Birthday Daddy' I received from my daughter first thing this morning.

Right now my two children are pretending to be hockey players (ice hockey) and are 'skating' around the kitchen. My daughter has butterfly wings and a ballerina skirt. Priceless.