Back On The Bike

I think I am actually starting to ride my bike again. I forgot how much I love riding my bike on flat terrain. Anyone want to choose a century ride as a goal for next year somewhere pretty and flat? If so, I'm game.

Saved By Cheese

Here is my attempt to reproduce the most amazing story told by my EMT partner, Felton:

So, it was around 1972 and I was working in the James County jail. I was in the jail's kitchen, and someone had just purchased those single cheese slices wrapped in plastic. I had never seen them before and was just amazed and confused as to why anyone would buy single slices of cheese. We used to just have a wheel of cheese and a knife, but here were little individual plastic wrapped slices of cheese. I made a cheese and ham sandwich went on with my day.

Anyway, a bit later a man runs into the jail and says "You need to come help my friend, he is really hurt." This guy seemed pretty agitated, so I asked "Where is this friend?"

"Out in the parking lot, in my truck."

So I follow him out to the parking lot, and sure enough there is his truck, and all I see is a man slumped over in the passenger seat.

(At this point Felton himself slouches over, chin on chest, arms hanging at sides, eyes closed).

I open the truck door and whoa, there is this much (thumb and finger held two inches apart) blood pooled on the floor. After I get his shirt off I realize he has been shot 7 times in the chest and has two sucking chest wounds. And this friend tells me this was over a pool game.

Then I remember the new cheese. I tell this friend to run into the jail kitchen and grab me a few of these individual slices of cheese wrapped in plastic. He goes and gets them, and I put these plastic wrapped slices of cheese over the sucking chest wounds, then tear-up the guy's shirt and tie it real tight around him, like they told us in Vietnam.

Soon enough the ambulance shows up, and they take him away. A few weeks later I was talking to one of the ambulance guys and he says, "You remember that cheese guy?"

"Yep."

"Doctor said you probably saved his life."

"Okay."

"But he sure wasn't expecting cheese slices under his bandage."

Our Colorado Trip

Both Rick and I are back from an eventful Colorado trip. We met-up in Vail on Friday and had a wonderful dinner with old friends. Rick did an impressive bike ride at high elevation on Saturday. I hate that he and his whole family seem to have no breathing issues at elevation, while I was short of breath climbing the stairs.

Inbetween gasps for air I did a nice long hike with girlfriends. The aspens are in full Fall mode and beautiful. The signs posting high bear and mountain lion activity were less beautiful. Especially when seen 3 miles into a hike.

I had the great pleasure of spending a day babysitting a 2-and-a-half-year-old all day Monday. The circumstances that caused this child to be placed in my care were very sad, but I did have a fabulous time. We went to the Avon Rec Center pool. I got to watch this very cute, very sweet little girl go down the mushroom slide "all by herself". "All by herself" means that I let her head go all the way under the water before swooping in and catching her. I also got to make lunch and coax a picky eater to at least finish the slice of bologna and cheese, and then you can get peach yogurt. Bargaining Bargaining Bargaining. As an adult it is a salary and health care that gets you to do things you would rather not, as a child peach yogurt will do.

Back home now after a flight that got into Norfolk at 2 AM. I am so tired I know I shouldn't even drive a car today.

Having Two First Names and An Impossible To Spell Road

Real phone conversation with local newspaper: (posted by Mc on behalf of Todd)

• RT: "I would like to cancel my newspaper delivery."
• LN: "Okay, what is your last name?"
• RT: "Todd"
• LN: "Your last name."
• RT: "It is Todd." Said with the exhaustion of Alan Alda answering a question about Hawkeye Peirce.
• LN: "Okay, what is your first name?"
• RT: "Rick"
• LN: "Okay, Mr. Rick what is your address."
• RT: "137 Pasbehegh Drive."
• LN: "How do you spell that?"
• RT: "P A S B E H E G H."
• LN: "P A B E G..."
• RT: "No, P A S B E H E G H."
• LN: "P A H E G E ..."
• ........

Travel To Colorado

I know Osa is a dog. I know she forgets what happened 24 hours ago. She embodies the living-in-the-moment ideal. Yoda would love her. But, I am dropping her off at her new vet's for boarding and I will feel sick to my stomach for a few hours knowing that she will be anxious the whole weekend until Rick picks her up on Monday. In fact, my belly is in knots right now.

Then I get to try and sleep without her at the foot of the bed, and wake-up at 3:30 AM to fly to Vail. I am really excited to see everyone. In fact, I need about a week to spend enough time with old friends. The weekend will be a rush from one too-short lunch to another too-short and too-much-booze dinner.

I also have this horrible desire for gossip from my old job. I shouldn't care! I shouldn't care! I shouldn't care! But there is something about having a company no longer want my services that makes me want to hear all the disgruntled employee stories. What the hell is wrong with me? I want my old co-worker friends happy, not be excited to hear that they loathe their bosses and secretly flip-off customers on the other end of a conference call.

Trauma Assessment lab tonight in class. Part of the basic trauma assessment is checking that the perineum is intact. I actually got to hear our assistant instructor use the word "taint" during Tuesday's class. (hehe).

Really ... Who IS This Guy

A dude got kicked out of our EMT class today. Showed-up after lunch drunk. I kid you not. Drunk! At least he was a chatty/happy drunk. Not smart, but thrilled about life and happy to talk about everything he was interested in. Started a loud ramble about almond scented blood and how he heard that was bad... um yeah that would be cyanide poisoning. Then when the instructor mentioned the "Golden Hour Rule" he burst out with "I know about golden showers." That was when he was written up and booted out of class.

Other than that class was uneventful. I stayed late and took vital signs on all the teachers. Why am I still a kiss-ass in school?

The Infamous EMS Sense Of Humor

My EMT instructors are starting to tell their adventure stories. While I have always expected this, and they are told in the expected tone of boastful teacher, with a hint of baffled amazement, I still find these stories and their telling slightly distasteful. You can imagine one of these tales. They involve a detailed location: unclean house, destroyed automobile, nursing home. They have a patient who unwittingly became involved in the messy story. They have the hero who must deal with a situation beyond comprehension, who has a moment when they aren't sure it will turn-out ok. The outcome is never predictable. The story may end happily, unhappily or ambiguously, but there is always a moral. So far none of the story makes me uncomfortable. I believe these tales are an important part of our training. All the students need to realize that people before them have seen the bad stuff, and have all survived.

However, where I start to smell and taste something not quite kosher is with the humor. The jokes are always told with the medic's eyes darting to the side. They are remembering the situation and the incongruous thoughts that their brain created to take them away from the gore. These thoughts are unbecoming, but we all have them. These are the thoughts that make us laugh our
t loud while looking at a loved one's remains in a coffin. These are the thoughts that make us tell a joke when a co-worker tells us about their divorce. These thoughts make us remember the farting and pooping of death instead of the anguish of the family members. I know I can't judge these storytellers. I know my discomfort comes from knowing this will happen to anyone who regularly experiences these things, and that it keeps them sane. It just makes me sad that we can't all be Vulcan logicians and see the bad parts and know them for what they are: inevitable parts of all our lives.

Now, I don't mean to be a total bummer: for a more light-hearted view of a similar topic check out this Talk of the Town in the latest New Yorker: Last Call.

A Good Lie

It is still hot hot hot. My body's seasonal memory says that it should be 40 degrees at night, and instead it barely gets to 80.

Why do I have acne? I am almost 31 and think my skin should calm down. I wash my face twice a day; I use Benzoyl Peroxide Cream; I use salicylic acid, and yet I still have acne. This all started with the move the Virginia (I blame the heat and constant sweating), and the cessation of birth control pill usage. Yet another way the pregnancy thing stinks. - no not pregnant yet.

I am reading 'Special Topics in Calamity Physics' by Marisha Pessl. Check out the website which is great fun to use with the book.

Rick has just been introduced to Nail Gaiman - lucky him, I wish I could again read 'American Gods' for the first time.

EMT class continues: we have our airway and ventilation practical this week. 8 hours of airway management on Saturday.

I am hoping to visit the Williamsburg Storytelling Festival this weekend. Hearing a well-told story is magical. It is what I love about books, movies, and television. A well-told, inventive lie is forgivable if the story is good. This is why I still cannot understand the 'I am a doctor' lie that is apparently SOP for a man looking for action in Las Vegas. These men should try a good story. I have always liked 'I cap oil-well fires', or 'I am a large animal trainer." These stories are still lies, but might keep an interesting woman around long enough to hear more. The only good fib I heard during my one-and-only Vegas romp was 'We are in a band. It's called the Cleveland Steamers.' (WARNING on link: this is a nasty and fake sex act). These band members even had matching Cleveland Steamers bowling shirts.

Possum, Weight Loss, and the S&M of EMS

I killed a possum on my drive home from EMT class last night. I am amped up after class each night; just being back in a school-like learning environment is exciting for me, but it is even more invigorating when we are learning about the human body and how to safely care for it. It was 10:15 PM (late for me) and I was driving on a two-lane road, wooded on either side. Then this large, maybe 30 pound possum comes out of the woods on the far side, running on its little, stunted legs. Its hairless rat-tail glistening in my headlights. I braked and swerved but heard and felt that thUMP that only a living thing, full of blood makes when you hit it with your car. This ruined my EMT class buzz. And as soon as the reality made me sad, the irony kicked in.

On another note, please stay slim. We practiced lifting and moving patients last night. I must be able to lift a 250 pound patient strapped to a backboard with my partner. This is very very difficult. Felton and I lifted a 210 pound classmate last night, and then another small woman and I lifted another 200 pound classmate, and I was wupped. The part that is especially discouraging is that 250 pounds isn't much. We heard the stories from our teachers of 300+ pound people. At that weight the stretchers aren't even reliable and you need to call the fire dept and do a patient carry with 4 - 6 people, and that only works if the hallway or stairway is large enough. And of course, obese people are even more likely to need EMS services. So, please please think of the poor EMS staff and what they will need to do to help you if you need it.

Speaking of the 210 pound male classmate I lifted... Before you lift a patient on a backboard you need to secure him. This is sexy, if you are into this kind of thing. There is a securing device called a spider strap. This fully restains your patient and on a backboard using this puts the patient in a full body splint. Lots of velcro and webbing. After my partner and I secured our male classmate, his own partner, another 20-something year-old man, proceeded to start flicking his nose and playfully punching him in the chest. It was all I could do not to ask if he wanted a whip.

Re-finishing a Floor and My Love for Previews

I spent labor day re-finishing a guest bedroom floor. Holy shit was that hard work. My body is still sore from the 10+ hours I spent on hands and knees - AND I am not even finished with the project. I currently have 1 layer of varnish, and I need to sand, then do a second layer, then I plan on doing to fancy trim painting. Things I learned:
1. It takes more product for an amateur than the online tutorials and product labels will have you believe. I had to do an emergency trip to Lowe's for more stripper even though I thought I had enough.
2. Knee pads, knee pads, knee pads.
3. Video gaming controllers are not the only things that can give you hand-overuse injuries.

I also saw Superbad this weekend. I won't say anything more because every review I have read loved it, and I did too for all the same reasons already documented: Salon.com Superbad Review (you will need to watch an ad unless you are a subscriber.)

I love watching previews. In fact, this may be the sole reason I still go to the theater. We have a completely kick-ass home entertainment system, we have a net flix subscription - but I still go to the theater once a week; it must be for the previews. And previews get me to Vin Diesel. The Hitman preview looks good, AND I am a fan of Deadwood, and Timothy Olyphant, BUT the Hitman should have been Vin Diesel. Come on, what other role could possibly be more perfect for Vin, maybe Cylon model 12 on BSG (no spoilers, I just started season 3). Maybe Gengis Khan in version of history that makes Genghis a cyborg. Maybe a villian in a new Chuck Norris film, but it will suffice to say that the Hitman should have been Vin Diesel. I hope Babylon AD is worth-it for Vin not to have been in Hitman.

Ah, and here is my favorite Chuck Norris-ism:
"When Chuck Norris jumps in water Chuck Norris doesn't get wet, the water gets Chuck Norris-ed"