D to tha N to tha C

Yeah. So the city I work/play in is hosting a big 'ol political convention here next week. It's a no holds barred opportunity for the city to showcase itself not only to the president (who has been here several times before anyway) but to the many people who think Charlotte is somewhere in Virginia and is just a po-dunk stop on the side of a highway.

I digress.

My role in this liberal love-fest actually has nothing political about it. though if you ask my family I may as well be escorting the Pres. down to the podium to make an acceptance speech -- (o_0)

Anyway-- it's all hands on deck at the agency these days. 12 hour on/off shifts, no vacations allowed... you get the idea. My role is a bit different. Since I'm a "part-time PIO" (public information officer) I've been plopped into the JIC (joint information center)...

everything in a paramilitary style operation is very big on acronyms...

My specific role in the JIC is that of "media relations" which means I will be fielding phone calls from the media about the convention or specific events related to it.

sounds exciting right? ...... RIIIGHT?

no. it doesn't.

The problem is, I was pulled into this really late in the game. They've been planning for a year yet I've only been on board for a month, maybe 2? Also, the trainings they have had since I've been on board I have not been able to attend for one reason for another. So I am feeling very nervous and unprepared.

but I am excited to be a part of the JIC and to be in the trenches... even if it means I'm the overnight JIC chick... 2200-0600... ouch.

I even get a snazzy outfit:

sexy.

Anyway... the convention begins in 6 days or so. We open the JIC in 3 days... why so early? I dunno. But it means I'm working all weekend... so, there's that.

However it boils down, election wise, I'm still excited to be a part of history...

even if I will be sitting next to a row of windows that could have molotov cocktails thrown into them by protesters (thanks kind officer harrington for pointing that out today).

365.

It's been 365 days since I've been working in EMS. I suppose this means I'll have to get used to not being able to play the "new girl" card anymore.

When I started this job a year ago I didn't realize how much of a different world this is, or how hard it would be to work/play in what is essentially a man's world. It can definitely be overwhelming, but I try my best to go with the flow. I think one of the hardest things to get used to was to go from being someone who helped manage people and run my own ship to learning how to navigate what is a loose-based para-military style way of running things. There is a chain of command. You don't break that chain easily (at least not in my experience). There is a lot of red tape I had never had to deal with before... I never ever expected that.

But there are so many perks...

I think the most rewarding part of the job for me is to meet people who have been brought back from the dead thanks to the efforts of my new co-workers. I'm pretty sure if I were a paramedic (yes-- I know, nightmare scenario) I'd have a pretty solid god complex after my first save.

For example-- today I spoke with a patient who went into cardiac arrest and was brought back to life and is now a happy grateful human being. He actually told me that he wishes he could tell the President of the United States what a great job our crew did and have him thank them as well. That's a pretty solid compliment right there.

I've also been in touch with a woman who performed CPR on her husband for 8 minutes. She saved his life. I mailed her the 911 recording (per her request). On it you can hear her counting chest compressions.  She's frantic and out of breath. It's chilling. She never gave up. Not for a minute. She says the EMS crew are the heroes... but I nominated her for an award anyway.

I had my annual review this week. It was so much better than what I dealt with in my former life-- which basically means as that it didn't end in tears, so I consider that a positive note.

I know there are people I work with who have been at their jobs for close to 30 years. While I don't ever want to think that far into the future (beyond squirreling away money in my 401K) I could see myself getting comfortable here, taking on more of my own stuff. Helping bridge some gaps that desperately need bridging... things of that nature.

but I suppose I'll just have to take it one day at a time.

This is only a drill...

As I've been stumbling through the stressful/fun/crazy world that is EMS, I've had a few chances to do some pretty cool things I never thought I would. So far, I have a brief list:

• Ride on an ambulance in a non-patient capacity
• Witness tearful reunions between people who should be dead, and the crews who brought them back to life
• Participate as a 'patient' in a mass-casualty search & rescue operation

It's this last one that I've been meaning to write about.

Several months ago, a friend of mine at the agency asked me to come take photos of the class they were attending. For the non-EMS people, it's basically a class that teaches paramedics to pick through rubble and triage victims in the event of something catastrophic like a building collapse (think 9/11).

I agreed to not only take photos for them, but also participate in their final test -- as a victim.

So, naturally, it rained relentlessly the day before. The guys all took the class in the rain -- I participated the next day as a victim -- in the mud. I found myself crawling in very claustrophobic space, wearing a helmet, gloves and trying to protect my department's only operating camera.

Viewing the pediatric scenario.

I may appear a girlie girl in the office when I'm playing the role of "carpetwalker" every day at work, but I really love getting dirt under my fingernails and getting muddy. So this was right up my alley. So after crawling around in the various scenarios I watched my friends and co-workers run theirs.

They had to crawl into a dark, black maze that was filled with smoke and package and pull a patient (a real person-- not a dummy) out of the maze blind.

Ok, so I am frankly amazed on a daily basis at the skills of my co-workers. But that day was especially cool. I poked my head inside that black box and couldn't see a damn thing. These guys had to work as a team-- a blind team-- to strap the victim to the backboard and drag him out. It was really fascinating.

The guys.

So-- after their scenario, we went to grab food and wait for it to get dark (and give me a chance to have a giant margarita to prepare myself for tight spaces).

There were approximately a dozen 'victims'-- including myself. After we were given our 'injuries' and doused in fake blood and made up with bruises, we were given our assignments. (sidenote: Yes, fake blood does come out of t-shirts and khakis-- but NOT lingerie)

Only one other person there worked at the Agency with me-- and we met for the very first time, then dove into a tiny spider hole together. It was so damn cold and muddy. He and I were laying on a yoga mat underneath a concrete overpass (that was barely 3 inches from our faces) in the mud, and I started shivering -- violently. So, about 25 minutes after I met my new co-worker, I was getting very friendly with him, stealing his body heat. It was quite a moment.

Fortunately for me, I was the first one dragged out of my hidey hole.

This is fortunate for several reasons:

1. I was freezing.
2. My co-workers-- the ones taking the course-- threatened to cut off my clothes to do a "thorough search" for injuries if they were the ones that found me. They weren't.
1. sidenote: I've been told several times since I started this job almost a year ago that I'd better never get in a wreck in our county-- the clothes will go even if it's a fractured finger. It's a paramedic threat... they all think it's a hilarious joke. :)

Anyway, I was the first pulled out-- so I got a firsthand look at all the other rescues-- and got myself a warm blanket and some lysol wipes to clean off the fake blood (there was a TON of it). The class leaders turned on loudspeakers to add noise. This wasn't just any noise-- it was noise that you would hear at the site of a building collapse: sirens, jackhammers, screams, large equipment being moved, etc. It was deafening. I don't know how they managed to work through it-- but they all did. They never stopped.

I tried to stay out of the way of the crews as they were working, but I was so completely fascinated by everything that was going on I couldn't help it.

I enjoyed the hell out of it.

CPR

This made me laugh really loudly (and get rather embarrassed in the process)... because it's just a great poster, but not only that, my mom (an RN) had this same CPR poster, obviously with slightly different directions, posted inside our linen closet when I was growing up. I plan to print this version out and post it at my desk at work.
Enjoy!

The tour.

I gave an agency tour to a kid and his mom last week. Agency tours fall to me basically because they're in my job description, even though I am really not great with kids. A tour typically entails me walking people through our building, showing them our simulation lab, the ambulance bay and our 911 dispatch center, etc.

So my tour last week came after a string of particularly crappy work-related events that were beyond anyone's control. Just file them under "shit happens"... I honestly think the tour could not have come at a better time to help cheer me up.

The mom pulled her autistic son from public schools where he was not getting the proper attention he needed. She is now homeschooling him and wanted to show him all the kinds of community helpers there are. This includes the police, fire department and of course our paramedics.

Her son is somewhere around age 10 (I think, I'm not great with judging the age of children based on size) but functions on the level of a 5 year old. He was thrilled with the trucks lined up in  a row. I asked a paramedic who is on light duty to help show off the truck for me, since that's not really my area. Matt was super patient with the kid, Patrick's his name, and took time to show him the truck inside and out... turning the lights on, then off, then on at Patrick's request. Patrick took a ton of photos with his camera. One photo of each side of the truck, with lights on and off.

His mom seemed thrilled with their visit, and she says Patrick got a lot out of it. I hoped it was true, and didn't think more of it until I got a little package in the mail today. It was a thank-you card from Patrick's mom, and 2 handmade cards from Patrick, 1 for me, the other for Matt.

Mine's going on my desk, to remind me why I love my job if I'm ever having a hard day (though those days are few and far between)...

A PR girl and 2 paramedics walk into the homeless shelter...

I am shocked, SHOCKED I tell you. I forgot to relive for you the best part of my past month.

Being a former TV news person, I'm not used to having Christmas off, much less other holidays like MLK Jr. day. So, I decided why start now? While all my carpetwalker counterparts were sleeping in on MLK day, I was riding along with a crew on a truck/ambulance. This required me being there for the entire 14 hour shift... and waking up at 4:30 am. Needless to say, I was almost late and ALMOST missed the truck.

So, I rode with a Medic veteran and a newbie to Medic. These two have only been partners for a split second. Both are very nice and easy to talk to... and not bothered by seemingly endless, obscure questions from a nosy PR girl...

I digress.

So, we got our first call immediately... a psychiatric call at the uptown men's shelter... now, this place is a real gem. I used to pass by there each and every day when I worked in TV. Most of these guys are fine. But there are several who like to play frogger with your car... which can be frustrating when I'm half asleep and caffeine deprived...

Anyway, the call was a guy saying he was having suicidal thoughts. So off we went. I will take this moment to say I have never been more relieved when I heard the firefighters (who got there before us) tell me the patient was walking out to the truck, and we wouldn't have to go inside. I would have gone inside, but I really REALLY didn't want to... The first thing the patient said when he got to the foot of the ramp and saw me: "oh, I see I've got some eye candy for the ride"... does this sound like a guy having suicidal thoughts? No, not quite... but who are we to judge...

He wanted to go to a hospital that couldn't have been further away... and I had to endure him making passes at me for about a third of the way. The paramedic I rode in the back with said he would have stopped him if he went too far talking to me... but the smile on his face when he said it left me slightly skeptical. I had to pull out the "well my husband wouldn't really like if I went on a date with you" card. I said this as the paramedic turned on the vent to get the rank body odor smell out of the truck...

This patient proceeded to tell us about his new fiancee who is deaf, but he did not know she was deaf for the first two weeks he was dating her... yes. you read that correctly.

Anyway, we walk into the ED and immediately the nurse says "is that 'so and so'" I replied yes... and she told us he only comes there to socialize, and to put him in the waiting room... even though he said he was having suicidal thoughts... that's a big no-no, and I'm pretty sure it's not legal, but what do I know about medicine? They even had a poster on the back of one of their doors that says "if 'so and so' comes here, call his legal guardian immediately and put him in the waiting room.' Me and the guys agreed that cannot be legal ether...

After that we spent several hours parked in a harris teeter parking lot... where I caught up on my sleep. From there it was boring, routine stuff... about 6 calls that somehow all involved the 3 of us getting into a teeny elevator with the stretcher. Not easy. I also got to see one of the guys start an IV line on a 100+ year old man with the flu. His thin skin and hard to find veins were a problem and he actually said "I'm not going to make this on the first try."... but he did, in the back of a moving truck. I was impressed, but as we've established, it doesn't take much to impress me...

All of this was very mundane to the crew I was with. They were bummed it wasn't more exciting for me, but I had fun... I guess it's all about perspective, and being called eye candy at 6 am.

Ernest.

Ernest is apparently our newest Medic "resident"... and by that, I mean he's the latest cadaver that's in our anatomy lab. At least, that's what one of my new paramedic friends tells me. He says he got to do a procedure on Ernest today... of which I know nothing about, but which I'm sure was very exciting.

I've been at Medic since September, and have yet to have the privilege of venturing into that lab. It's not that I wouldn't love to, I just haven't been invited in, and it's kept behind lock and key so I can't exactly 'accidentally' wander into it.

I hope Ernest, whether that's his real name or not, knows how much the donation of his mortal remains is helping our crews train. It's really an awesome thing to do.

My great GREAT uncle died from advanced melanoma last year. It came on fast, as far as I can tell, and he was very sick for a very short time. He donated his body to science. To Vanderbilt University in Nashville. He wanted the doctors there to use his cancer-ridden body to learn what they can about melanoma.

As someone who had melanoma, at the ripe old age of 21, my great great uncle's generosity is really especially awesome to me. My mom didn't even tell me it was melanoma until after he died. She was afraid it would freak me out, which it did. My translucent skin didn't take well to the sun, but growing up on the coast, what choice did I have? Now I've got a pretty scar on my arm where a mole used to be, and I thank myself each day for being so smart to recognize it had morphed into something scary looking... now I'm an advocate of mole checks and sunscreen... and a hater of tanning beds (though I never used one myself...)

But my uncle's donation has me thinking. I've always wanted to be cremated. The whole having people stare at you dead and then be buried in a box thing isn't really my style... but now I'm thinking, what if my body could do others good too? The possibilities are really limitless. Organ donation, my eyes could help someone else see... or whole-body donation... nurses, paramedics or doctors could use my body to learn new skills and help give better treatment to the living...

or if my melanoma comes back one day, and finishes what it started, maybe I can end up being the reason some researcher finds a cure for the disease... and singlehandedly save thousands... maybe.