Don't cramp my style

 A "Delta" call came in one afternoon. There are four levels of calls we get. Alpha, Bravo, Charlie and Delta. Alpha being a non-emergency (smoke alarms going off, illegal BBQ's, etc.) and Delta (heart attacks, respiratory distress, etc.) being an all-out emergency that requires lights and sirens to get to the scene as fast as possible.

Our Delta was for a man who had been injured...... "Unknown Injury" dispatch tells us. We have no idea what we are dealing with. As we race through the streets of San Francisco, we keep in contact with dispatch for updates. There are none. We arrive at the scene and the PD isn't there yet. The police usually arrive first to secure a scene but not this time.

We see the injured man. He is sitting against a wall, bleeding from his leg. Right off the bat we can tell its a stab wound. I am wondering where the heck the SFPD is. They should have been here. Someone stabbed this man and we don't know where the assailant is. I am feeling a bit uneasy but forget this since the man needs medical attention and quickly.

My partner, Rick, asks the man, "What happened here?" to which he answers, "I think I got stabbed."

(YA THINK???)

The man is bleeding profusely. Rick starts to cut the man's pant leg open so we can treat the wound. All of a sudden, the man has a seizure. I am thinking there is a chance the man overdosed on something. I am worried about needles as I hold the man down to keep him from injuring himself further as I try to put pressure on the wound.

My Captain and two other Firefighters arrive, along with the PD... finally! The EMT's have arrived also. They prepare the gurney for our patient.

"Check his pockets," I tell Rick. One pocket contained a couple bags of white powder. The other pocket was full of more stuff. Rick pulls out more bags and money and suddenly there is a loud pop. I look at Rick knowing something has hit me like a brick wall in the stomach. The look on Rick's face is total horror.

"He had a gun in his pocket. It went off, " Rick says in a panic. He had no idea at first that I was the one to block that bullet.

"I know. And you are really cramping my style!" I tell Rick as I fall to the ground.

I don't feel pain but I do feel warm blood soak my shirt and pants and there is a hot feeling in my abdomen. My Captain calls for another ambulance. His voice in panicked. People are asking me questions. I cannot answer. I am trying to keep from fainting. I look around and I see my men gathered around. AMR has taken the man with the stab wound to the hospital. I find out later he died from an overdose.

I remember being angry that my shirt had been cut away to expose the gunshot wound. Half naked in public is not how I wanted to be seen! There is a commotion around me and a sense of urgency. Captain Harold is barking out orders. Rick and Darryl are trying to stop the bleeding from my abdomen. Despite my desperate attempt to avoid fainting, I slowly saw the world become dark.

Several hours later, after 4 hours of surgery, I wake up. Ok, now I feel pain and lots of it. My Captain is sitting in a chair with his eyes closed. I watch him for awhile and try to tell him something but can't. There is a tube down my throat. All I can do is grunt. Harold opens his eyes and leans towards me. I am pointing at the tube.

"It has to remain for awhile more, " he says. I try to shake my head no.

He calls the nurse. "I have a feeling that if you don't remove the tube, she will do it herself," he tells her. "Can you find out if it can be removed?" She leaves the room to get an order for its removal. Heck, I can do it myself! All I can do is stare at my Captain. He is telling me about the gunshot (like I had forgotten???). He also tells me about the surgery and what was involved. I come to know that half of my stomach was removed due to the extensive injury. The bullet missed all the other major organs. He tells me there is mesh wiring all throughout my abdomen to hold it all together. As he is telling me this, for some reason I am thinking to "chicken coops" and I don't know why.

The tube is removed but I still can't talk. My throat is sore. The nurse puts pain medicine in my IV and I fall asleep again.

I don't know for how long I was asleep but Harold is still there although he isn't in uniform now. I suppose he went home to shower and change. His face is worn. For a man of nearly 55, he is still a handsome man. His wife died a few years ago. Harold never dated after her death. I doubt he ever will although there are a lot of women who are attracted to him. We always tell him to "go out into the world" and live it up. He's been alone too long. But he is content with his life.

He smiles and asks how I am doing. I hate hospitals. I am a bad patient. "Can I go home now?" I ask him.

"What? You just had major surgery!" he says.

"So? Can I go home now?"

He shakes his head. "You'll be here for a week at least."

Ok, now I am upset.

"Rick wants to see you," Harold says. "He isn't taking this whole thing very well. You want to see him?"

Why wouldn't I? He is my partner. I tell Harold to let Rick in. Since I am in the Intensive Care Unit, they allow only one visitor at a time. Harold leaves and Rick walks in. He looks at me, then around the room seeing all the machines and tubes and drips. He has this look on his face that makes me so sad. He is truly upset. He tries to tell me something but chokes on his words. I am feeling really sorry for him.

"Its ok," I tell him. "It was an accident." (I was later told that the gun was loaded and cocked in that man's pocket. When Rick pulled out the bags of heroin, one of the bags pulled on the trigger and discharged the gun).

Rick pulls up the chair next to the bed and scoots in close. He puts his head down on the side of the bed and holds my hand. He breaks down in tears and sobs. His anguish tears my heart apart. He keeps repeating how sorry he is. I told him it wasn't his fault. He continues to sob until he is too tired to cry anymore. We talk for awhile. He asks what he can do for me.

"Get me out of here," I tell him.

He thinks I am kidding but I am serious. He has no plans to help me escape.

I spent two weeks in the hospital recovering. I thought Harold said it would only be a week? Rick went into counseling to "get over" his feelings of guilt. I never blamed him for what happened. It was truly just an unfortunate accident. I returned to work after I got my strength back.

Several months later, Rick and I were at the scene of a motorcycle accident. Our patient was a 37 year old biker who hit the center divide on the freeway. He had a compound fracture in his leg where the bone was protruding through the skin. The man was wearing leather pants and Rick was cutting away the man's pant leg to expose the fracture.

I'm not quite sure what happened but the next thing I know.... Rick's knife slipped and cut my neck. He missed my jugular vein by a fraction.

I'm having a bit of deja vu at this time.

Bleeding is controlled, I get to ride in the ambulance once again (as a patient) and a few stitches later, I am fine again.

I'm beginning to think Rick is either out to get me or I am very accident prone.

;-)

Cold versus Hot

Firefighters wear about 60 pounds of bunker gear and equipment when they go to a fire. With the intense heat of the fire and the "workout" we get while running up and down stairs or manning a high pressure hose, our body temperatures tend to go up a bit. We sweat a lot in those bunker clothes. They were not designed to "breathe" but rather to protect us from fire, heat and other elements.

I am so used to feeling "overheated" that when I am not wearing those clothes and equipment, I often feel cold.

I had the day off from work and decided to go to one of my favorite Asian markets in my home town. As I walked into the store I was met a blast of cold air. I wish I had brought my sweater. My goodness, that store was freezing!

I met Chung. He is the manager of the meat department. I've known him for about 15 years. I was shivering.

""Why am I always so cold?" I asked him, trying to make excuses for my chattering teeth as he stood there in a short sleeved shirt.

"You no at work," he explains. "There you in heat all the time."

I have to admit, I have never thought of myself "in heat" ... especially at work.

:-)))

Stand Behind Me

I will be the first to say that I would stand behind any of my men at any moment, under any circumstance. They are my brothers. We look out for each other. We work so closely together that we know each other's "moves" and can even predict those moves in a building when we are blinded by smoke and flames. We depend on each other for our lives. It is how it is in the Firehouse.

And yet, there is ONE time I refuse to stand behind ANY of them. You never know when those moments are. They can sneak up on you like a fast moving storm. You always have to be on your guard so you aren't caught in that trap. And they plan it so well.

It is my reason for swearing to myself that I will ALWAYS remain one step ahead of them just so not to be caught in one of those "moments." I ended up buying a shirt off Ebay that "says it all." That shirt is on the bulletin board in our main hall as a constant reminder of who they are and who I refuse to be.

;-)

No other words are needed to explain. The photo says it all.

"Gas Investigation"

The first time I heard a call come in for a "gas investigation" my heart skipped a beat. The thought of explosions from gas leaks always striked fear in me. Most calls for gas investigations are just that.

We go to the scene.
Investigate.
Yes there is a small gas leak (or not).
Scene is secured.
Gas company arrives to take care of the matter.

But over the years and having spent so much time in the Firehouse, the term "gas investigation" has taken on a whole new meaning. Our evening meals have been "modified" to prevent those night time emissions.

Still, every once in awhile, that call will come in. And all I can do is point to the culprit who kept me awake most of the night. :-)))

Grocery shopping

Today is grocery shopping day. Ok, EVERY day is a grocery shopping day and as usual, I am not looking forward to it very much. This is because 4 of us go into the store...... but it is only ME who does the shopping.

We make so many return trips to the store to get what someone "forgot" because these guys have no concept of a shopping list. Today Rick and I are taking two of our newest rookies with us. We were about to enter the store when I asked them, "SO, what do we need?"

And someone answers, "FOOD."

(Thank you for that insight!)

"What KIND of food?" I ask. (We seriously need a shopping list!)

"EDIBLE" is the answer I get back.

(Geez, is there aspirin on that absent grocery list???)

It has always been hard for me to grocery shop with a man, let alone 6 right now. We always seem to have different tastes in foods. Whereas I would prefer whole grain breads and milk, they are happier with jalapeno bread and beer. Thank God they don't drink... we'll save on the beer!

So here "we" are...... to do the grocery shopping....... for EDIBLE things...... things humans eat. Or at least what most normal humans eat.

I glance at the guys as I am picking out things we need. A few girls have swarmed around them and are trying their hand at flirting. Rookies are always flattered. But these two don't see that the girls are from the school across the street. I can only stand this so long. No, I am not "jealous." I am just desperate to get the ice cream back to the Station before it melts.

I interrupt my partner, Rick. "Can we go now?" I ask.

He looks at the girl who seems annoyed. My goodness, if looks could kill....

"Is that your girlfriend?" she asks. (Only a kid would ask such a thing!)

Rick replies, "Nooooooooooo way! She is my partner!" (That doesn't sound good)

"She's been my partner for years." (That sounds worse)

The girl looks ticked.

"She is my boss!" (Better, but I hate being referred to as someone's "boss")

The girl seems satisfied with the answer/explanation.

Next thing I know... she suddenly has admiration for me. I don't know what they have told her.

"You are SO brave and lucky to work with these guys!" she says.

I look at this clueless girl, roll my eyes........ take a deep breath....

(Brave. Yeah right. I am laughing to myself. I'm just a survivor).

I load the groceries onto the belt, they are rung up, bagged and put into the cart. I am heading for my squad. "WE" didn't go shopping; "I" did. I swear I am not unloading these groceries when we get back to the station.

I will count to 10. If they aren't on board, they can WALK back to the Station!

By the way, one of them had to go back to the store. They didn't get their jalapeno bread. I wonder why??? ;-)

April Fool's Day is 365 days a year

Believe me. When you put 16 men together in one Firehouse, you just can't help playing jokes all the time on them. Of course, you have to be prepared to have jokes played back at you. I am prepared. Always.

Our Firehouse has two sleeping quarters. They are across the hall from each other. Both sleeping quarters have doors but they are never closed in case we need to run out on a call half asleep in the middle of the night.

This gives me an idea. I examine those doors and realize both of them open INWARD. (Guess whoever put the doors on knew all too well the bumps on the head one would get whenever someone opened those doors into the hallway!) So they open inward. This is good. Mind you, the doors are always open for "practical reasons." Well, I don't feel like being practical. Evil is more like it. ;-) After all, in just a few hours it will be April 1st. I can't just let it pass me by now, CAN I ???? (Ok, ok, don't judge me just yet!)

I make plans, I readjust the plans. This goes on for a couple hours. What I have in mind has to be JUST RIGHT or the whole thing will be ruined. I finally get to the point where I am confident I can pull this joke off..... and single handedly against all those men who claim to "look out for my butt in dangerous situations." (I might be dead after this joke so please keep their sentiments for me in mind! I'll need them as backup later!)

Everyone has retired for the night, hoping to sleep the whole night through without any calls. We were quite busy during the day so we are kind of bushed. I lie awake listening..... for those "sounds" that eventually come which tell me they are sound asleep... ok, and for the snoring too. This is my key that I can get up and do what I have to do.

I leave the sleeping quarters I am in and close the door. I close the door of the other room right across the hall. I then tie a rope from one doorknob to the other; carefully leaving about 2 inches of slack in the rope. I walk to the dispatch room. Captain Harold is in the dispatch room drinking coffee and watching TV with one of the operators.

"Whatcha doing up?" he asks. (It is 3 am)

"Couldn't sleep," I tell him. He looks at me and studies my face. I pretend to watch the TV.

"What are you up to?" he asks.

"Nothing. Just couldn't sleep."

This is my Captain. He knows me better than anyone else. (I hate this fact).

"What did you do?" he insists.

"Nothing."

"I know you better than this. You have this 'Gonna-get-you-good!' look on your face. What are you planning?"

"Nothing."

"I'll bet you 25 bucks it doesn't work!" he says.

"Make it a hundred," I tell him.

I ask Chester (our dispatch guy) to hit the fire alarms in two minutes. These are like the fire alarms that go off in schools for the fire drills.

Captain Harold and I walk to our observatory positions. We wait. Then the fire alarms go off.

THUD! (I suppose this is the first person in line in the room on the left trying to go out the door that is surprisingly shut)

THUD! (Ditto for the room on the right)

And then the fun begins. I see the lights under the doors go on. People in the sleeping quarters on the left try to open the door at the same time the ones on the right try to open THEIR door. Since there is only two inches of rope slack, it turns into a tug-o'-war.

It doesn't take much to humor me. I am laughing so hard. Those guys are barely awake and can't figure out what is going on. I look at my Captain.......

He is counting out a hundred dollars.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They should all be glad I didn't repeat my joke from 2 years ago when I put "Itching powder" in all their clothes. Ok, mostly their underclothes. Watching them all standing there in public (we were on a call in the city) scratching themselves was a sight to behold! And to see it on the evening news was even better!

It wasn't even April 1st that day! You can always expect the unexpected here. And remember... I am always one step ahead of you men! :-)))