Vegas Series: Meet Mr. Hero

Hanging out in the Centrifuge Bar at MGM in Las Vegas we are enjoying a night out. A bar filled to the brim with people enjoying them selves. Drinks in hand, Fly boy, Nerf Herder, and myself are comfortably set up against the wall people watching, life is good. Our other two former comrades, use to the crowded bar scene, work their way to the bar strategically near an unsuspecting group of ladies. M.S and Fidney anti up to the bar and buy two shots, enjoying them selves Fidney sets his eyes on his target.

Now maybe as outside observers, we could see the pack mentality, the configuration of these woman and the devotion to one in particular. A Petite blonde, the center of attention and the inevitable item of affection to Fidney. Making eye contact he strikes up a conversation, and buys the young lass a drink, on account of celebrating. Though he never really knows what the celebration is all about, and doesn't bother asking.

The rounds of drinks pass and we take notice of M.S with a shit eating grin on his face. We see the ladies look on in disbelief which quickly turns to horror. Fidney continues to ramble on in an animated fashion, arms flailing, head weaving side to side. Quickly M.S leaves his post as wing man and heads to us as to disassociate him self with Fidney. M.S weaves a tale of Fidney's feeble attempt to impress the ladies he was surrounded by. Mr. Hero's, as M.S renamed him, exploits of life as a medic in the big apple, include tales of dying baby's, being shot at, and saving those sworn to protect the people of NY. These are all in a days work for this man. By the looks of the ladies, what went from a casual interest, irrefutably changes to disbelief. With the bar tenders jumping on the bar to do a dance grabbing Fidney's attention in mid sentence these opportunistic ladies simultaneously finish their Cosmo's and beat feet.

Slightly dismayed Fidney heads to the rest of us and talks a big game. We let him chat on and on ever knowing the glorious ball of fire he was shot down in. We continue our adventures of the night and to this day we know Fidney as the man to drive an entire Bachelorette party from a bar, in Sin City.

Moral of this story guys: Never over play the hero card.

Be Safe

Ambulance Junkie

Vegas Series: Fidney's Surprise!

We were all boarding the plane and preparing to fly out of Vegas that morning. All taking our respective seats, I in the back quarter of the plane, isle seat with Nerf Herder the opposite isle side one row back. Fly Boy a row in front of me with his window seat and Fidney, likely still hung over, four rows up center seat. We were all muttering amongst our selfs of the fact that Las Vegas could be swallowed by the desert and we wouldn't care at all.

The welcome passengers greeting comes over the Jet Blue speaker system, along with notice of free movies extended to us all today due to a passenger having gum stuck on her seat. The Pilot, who likely was a former Red Bull aerial acrobatic pilot, tells of likely catching a great tail wind from the jet stream and cutting flight time down dramatically. Every passenger settling in for the trip to JFK. When suddenly from the quite comes a boisterous groan of disbelief.

"OH SHIT!" I hear, along with the rest of the plane.
"WHAT The Fuck" coming from a few rows up.
"I do not remember ordering that" Don't let it be him I remember thinking.
"THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS!" Comes exploding from the center seat four rows in front of me.
"Oh shit" I whisper through the seats to Fly Boy, ducking my head out of sight. I hear the faint giggling of Nerf Herder a row back.
"Think Fidney found the receipts" Fly Boy poses towards me as he slouches in his seat.
"I think so" replying as I glance over my shoulder at Nerf Herder who has assumed the proverbial airline's crashing position.
"A HUNDRED FIFTY!!" causing us to smirk and peak over the seats up in Fidney's general location.
"I did not order all this, No way in hell. Fly Boy what is this all about?"
"Um..." Fly Boy studder's "She really liked Appletini's?"
"She? Thirteen Dollar martini's Fly Boy!"
"NO, Actually they were Appletini's, and She really liked them" Not a valid argument from Fly Boy but a sarcastic and valiant effort.
"I don't remember ordering all of this for you guys last night?" a dumb founded Fidney says
"Well you didn't technically, Tatiana was not going to let us, But Ambulance Junkie kinda charmed her into it." Fly Boy jest's.
"Hey!" I utter "N.H and M.S helped too, I'm not only to blame here"
"Wait, Wait, Wait, Who's Tatiana?" Fidney wonders.
"Our Lounge Server from last night" We all chuckle.

As Fidney danced him self frantic last night, We had all been enjoying our lounge singer and being the life of the party. We had realized that Fidney had opened a tab, intended for himself, on our table. With a little sweet talking and over whelming peer pressure we had convinced out super nice Russian Lounge server to bring a round of drinks for the lot of us. Our group of five quickly included a group of three ladies we made small talk with. One of which was a mid forty's female who's father was the first Battalion chief of a major west coast metropolitan area. Needless to say our conversation was strongly centered around Fire and EMS. Our conversation continued and so did the rounds of drinks, including the Appletini's for the Chiefs daughter.

Fidney ever unknowing the booze which did flow thanks to him, well until he had to rummage through his pockets on the flight that is.

Vegas Series: The Prologue

"Vegas?" I jokingly pondered.

"Yeah it'd be fun" says Fly Boy. "think of it as a Man'cation"
"Wait...Vegas? like Las Vegas? Sin City?"
"Ya!! End of this month" Fly Boy burst out in excitement.
"Vegas" I say with confidence

 I hadn't really consider the proposition as usual, it was more the off the wall idea we entertained. This time was different though, it felt right. Why not? I thought, and as simple as that, we began to get excited. A trip away from the grind of work, away from this east coast existence. Fly Boy, Nerf Herder, and myself meeting up in NYC with Fidney and flying out to Sin City to hook up with M.S who now lived in Henderson. The five of us reuniting for the first time in a couple of years. We weren't age old friends, but we had all developed and honed our EMS skills together for a time. While we were traveling so far we'd of course take the time to head to Yosemite through Death Valley to flex our need for the out doors. See some sites, place some bets, and Fly Boy could even see his Grizzly bear he was so obsessed with.

It was a trip of a life time, and in all honesty it was the best thing to ever happen to me besides my bride and my son. It was just one of those moments that I was fully capable of letting go of control and decided to just go with the flow. The last time I truly did that was when I began dating the girl that became the love of my life, who is now the Mrs. Who, by the way was the ultimate decision

The antics we are known for carried over into our Man'cation and lead to some rather precarious moments. Whether in the NYC, aboard the air plane, in Las Vegas or Yosemite National Park we were never far from a laugh.

I hope you enjoy this sliver into my life outside of EMS.

Be Safe
Ambulance Junkie

A wake up and a wasp

I wake up and stretch, glancing over my shoulder peering at the bed side stand looking for the clock. Rubbing my eyes I can barely believe the red numbers laid out in front of me. 16:10 I read, "Crap!" I exclaim "I got half an hour before I need to leave for work." Throwing the covers off and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed I sit up. "Hi moo moo, Hi A-bay" I rattle off to my dogs on a maddened dash to the the shower. Five minutes flat I'm out and then I get changed in my uniform. Stumbling down stairs I head for the sliding door out to the back yard still tightening my belt. I let my dogs out and off I am to preparing the pup's evening food bowls.

I then wonder what on earth I'm going to fix for dinner. Grabbing a corn muffin out of the microwave to munch on it while throwing a few south western style egg rolls in the oven and also grabbing a few cucumbers to cut up. Eureka, PB&J I determine as I'm sliding the back door open to let the pups in for grub. Glancing at the clock I realize its only 16:25.

I jet over to the radio to turn on some classic rock while I begin to unload the dishwasher, placing all the cleaned items on the counter top. Being spastic I begin to peel and cut the cucumbers and toss them in a Tupperware bowl with seasoning of salt and pepper and a tablespoon of Mayo. Closing the lid I give it a few gentle flips and place it in my lunch box. Grabbing bread and jelly from the fridge and peanut butter from the cabinet I slather together two PB&J sandwiches and put them in zip lock baggies. Back to the dishes I finish putting them away, and grab my egg rolls from the oven. Toss it all in my lunch box and throw my boots on in the living room, Time check 16:35.

Rushing back in the kitchen I wash the dishes I created and place them on the drying rack. Running up stairs I call for my boxer Gracie to go in her kennel. In she goes and I stumble back down to pick up my lunch box and grab the kitchen garbage bag to take it to the curb. Head to the front door I grab Jeep keys and pull the door shut behind me. I grab two garbage cans and take them to the curb, jump in my Jeep and off I go. Time 16:40

Right on time I think, now I can enjoy my two and a half mile ride into work. Windows down, music jamming I am physically and mentally prepared for the night ahead. Suddenly a ticklish and unexpected sensation on my arm. Startled I look over and see a Wasp has landed on my forearm braced against the passenger head rest. Shivers run down my spine and I flail my arm violently in hopes to dislodge this creature of nature.

Unaware of my surroundings I have begun drifting towards a row of parked cars. Screaming like a school girl because of the wasp I notice my course and make a quick  yet over-corrective action. Realizing the Wasp has fallen from my arm I look frantically over my body for it. Glancing back on the road I swerve correcting my course yet again. Coming to a red light I have time to gain my composure. I catch my breath and notice the Wasp fly out the window, good rid dens I think and turn my attention back to the road.

No sooner have I regained my composure do I notice a spider drop down in my field of view. "Odd, what is a spider dangling from outside my wind shield?" I mutter to my self when I realize this nasty horrific beast of a spider is actually between me and my wind shield.

Surprisingly I made it to work on time that day, though there was one less spider living in the world upon my arrival. Time check 16:46

Be Safe
Ambulance Junkie

The Glorious Life

EMS is not the highest paid career choice there is by any means. I mean Children aren't lining up on career day to see the Paramedic thinking "Wow, I bet he drives a Lexus and has a twelve bedroom mansion." No the thought of saving lives and being involved in the Emergency is what brings the kids, that and the lights and sirens. We make sacrifices in life constantly, though it seems EMS is a bit more often.

My Wife and I have done alright for ourselves, both in under paid professions, we own rather than rent and are able to provide for our son. That being said, I have made changes in these economic times to be more fiscally responsible. Packing my dinner rather than buying out, drinking from the stations water cooler, and enjoying being home bodies for entertainment. Its not ideal but it makes life easier on us, and reduces our stress.

Now I'm not blogging for sympathy, or bragging rights, that's not my style. So there is comedic twist to this blog...dun, dun, dun...foreshadowing? But I digress.

 I am not afraid to be, as my wife would say, cheap; though I think of it as Fiscally responsible. I go through the couch cushions at the station to find loose change in attempts to scrounge up enough to purchase the item of my desire. After a few weeks I use this said change to treat myself on day four to a soda. Which today was that day, That day where my hard earned work of flipping cushions and combating the creatures of the couch paid off. Three weeks to find enough change to buy an ice cold, thirst quenching, caffeine enthralling Mountain Dew. What a brilliant, magnificent, splendid, resplendent, splendiferous, illustrious, redoubtable day this was going to be!

Much as I enjoy cake and fried foods, I love my Dew. The day I get to purchase my Dew from the vending machine is what I can only relate to as Christmas when I was younger. I wasn't even going to wait for a while before the purchasing and inevitable consumption began. As soon as I clocked in, I headed straight for the back of the ambulance bays, my eyes locked on the light emanating through the stiff plastic logo of the soda incubator. Oh sweet luscious mana of heaven, I thought upon reaching the towering machine. I glance over my shoulders to make sure we're alone and stretch out my arms embracing it in a long, yet surprisingly satisfying hug. Getting lost in the moment I realize I have the correct amount of currency to release this locked liquid crack. Digging through my pockets, I throw unneeded items aside, gloves, spare pens, my junk drive all just to grab the loose change sitting with in its depths.

In my palm sits the key to happiness, I begin to slide my change in the slot of the machine. A quarter followed by another, followed by a few dimes. All was going great until this stationary bipolar vending machine turned on me. Clank I hear as a dime falls down the return shoot. I grab and reinsert. Clank I hear as it falls again. Temperamental piece of crap I think as I try a nickel. Clank, Clank, Clank as it spits out Sixty of the dollar ten it had already been given. The tiny LED marquee reading, Balance: 0.00, "What the hell" I exclaimed "Worthless piece of...Rotten, no good son of a....." Locked within the belly of this beast sits my hard earned, some one else's misplaced, change.

The fit of rage that ensued is not appropriate for all readers. I ended up losing to an inanimate object, out smarted at a game I obviously had no idea we were playing, by a soda machine.

Like the title implies, Ain't this The Glorious Life.

                                                           Be Safe

Ambulance Junkie

Dry Chem + Ambulance Cab = A Day Off

It had all the story lines of a comedy plot with the classic punch lines and gags of a Charlie Chaplin movie. The scene is set, the parking lot of a busy service station, the afternoon of a mild winter's day. Our heroes sit in the front seat of their ambulance...and action:

My partner and I have the same routine once on post, the every day chatter entails in the rig over what we did this weekend. The music playing in the back ground we joke and laugh amusing our selves over various happenings at work and hear say about the unionizing neighboring department. We head inside to grab an early morning coffee and discuss whether its to early to grab a cup of Wendy's chilly or not. Exiting from the service station we tromp through the slush and gusty wind and hunker back in our warm ambulance. All the time never thinking about the mischievous happenings that are effectively occurring at that very moment.

Unknown to us the plastic seal on the fire extinguisher is to the point of total failure. It at any moment has enough disintegration through its plastic being to break apart setting in motion the days events. The continuous  vibration of the old 98 Ford will ultimately bounce the broken seal tag off the extinguisher and onto the ground. The said vibrations will rattle enough to dance the pin out of the dry chem, and set up this devilish plot.

We continue to chatter to each other and a few hours have passed. The Pin now on the verge of falling out and clanking will no doubt alert us to the unsafe extinguisher standing between us. As the pin falls it lands on the only towel in a five foot radius thus not making a noise, and not warning us.

Reaching back to his bag my medic goes to grab his novel to read. the bag having shifted just enough out of reach during the mornings drive. He has to stretch and with his finger tips grabbing at his bag just out of reach. in order to get a little extra leverage my Medic has rested his opposite elbow on the handle of the extinguisher. The same said extinguisher that we unknowingly possessed with a faulty seal tag. The planets have aligned in favor of the events about to happen, and set in motion to a point of no return.

With the slightest of pressure on the handle he is able to stick his finger on the bag with the tiniest of traction, pulling towards him he shifts his weight. The transfer of weight from his reaching grasp to his steadying arm creates enough energy to drive the handle down on the extinguisher releasing dry chem agent into the air. With out missing a beat my partners shifting weight triggers him to become off balanced and falling between the seats. Kicking up the dry chem on the rigs floor. As he falls his legs stretching out shoving his boots towards any solid mass in attempts of bracing him in his new stance strikes the the GPS unit mounted on the dash dislodging it. In his follow through with his boot he strikes the speed dial of the heat vent kicking it to high. The vent intakes near the dog house floor suck the low lying dry chem in allowing it to vanish from site momentarily.

Laughing at each other we do not realize what is about to happen. The vent sounding as if its clogged draws our attention to the outlets. We stop laughing just in time for the evil twist of Karma, *PUFF* as it fills the entire cab with dry chem. My medic laying on the floor no less than two feet from me vanishes in a fine white cloud within our rig, the air becomes thick and unbearable. Coughing ensues with intermittently laughing over our situation. We stumble out of our rig coughing and dry heaving from the dust that has no doubt filled out lungs. Suppressing the cough we assure each other of our safety. Then burst out in laughter which begins the cycle of coughing once more.

We call OOS and proceed to drive back with windows open and our heads hanging out. At the station we explain to the D.O the events of the day while uncontrollably shivering and coughing. We are told to head to be medically cleared at the ER. Once doing so we return to be advised the truck will be in need of a interior servicing and vent work cleaning. With no other trucks available for use that day, we are given the rest of the day off with pay.

It seems as though Karma had its intentions all along.

Be Safe
Ambulance Junkie

The ugly truth

"I don't know how long she's been down" says the bystander. We enter through the doorway into the room. We behold our patient, a Lincoln Continental sized woman. The lifeless body buck ass naked on a mattress that was dwarfed by her size. The inner concern arises as we conceptualize a way to extricate this patient. Is this even possible? There is no way the two of us can move her. I couldn't even believe she would fit through the door way.

"She wont even fit on the elevator" my partner whispers. "Not laying down" I whisper back. "so we put her on the elevator car 1 and hit the lobby button, than jump in car 2 and race to the lobby?" my partner suggests. "are you kidding my? I'm not taking the stairs!" My partner looks at me holding back the laughter "how does you taking the stairs come into the equation?" he mutters, "I don't know, I was feeling confusion, We have a job to do" I say as I enter the room leaving my partner in utter confusion.
We approach, placing the monitor on the floor, and begin our assessment. A truly mute thing at this point. Neither of us are truly thinking this is a viable option for resuscitation, but relying on training we proceed with the steps to confirm. I chirp out a quick radio transmission of an additional truck and the police to the scene. My partner places the four lead on and glances at the monitor, while I throw a set of defibrillator pads on our patient. The Monitor reads Asystole yet her body is still slightly room temperature. We debate our options in the room more for show. We point out the lavidity in the legs and arms setting in, the staff unable to understand the words coming out of our mouths. We pack up and await for the police officer to take over the scene. The instant sign of relief washes across my partners face.
We as EMS providers are imagined as super humans. We arrive on scene and are expected to save a life. We are supposed to operate with no emotion but show compassion. We are supposed to be confident in our ability to over come the largest of obstacles, some times though our human nature and concerns get in the way. We are only human after all, we have our own ways to cope with the dismal and dark side of the world. We often dont deal with people when they are having a good day. EMS typically wont be called until a persons day turns to crap, and we must remain light hearted in order to continue in this job.

Be Safe

Ambulance Junkie

Jersey'd

The argument, as with so many, began out of complete nonsense and often over looked the crowning of a legitimate winner. These arguments would begin in the early morning and last most of our shift, often forgetting the original reason we were bickering. Fly Boy and I would so often find ourselves debating such things as the best color for the sheer enjoyment of arguing. Knowing that it is was truly a matter of opinion we would shout off meaningless facts in order to convince the other our side was the best.
"I'm just saying that if zombies did attack, a bag full of guns is far much better at defending your self" Fly Boy would say. "are you kidding me! Reloading would leave you vulnerable and open for an attack" I would counter
While amidst a heated debate we fell into a stalemate neither of us budging. Both of us refusing to back down from this particular debate we had to change means of persuasion, and that would result in the most dangerous move ever to occur in a moving vehicle.

I started with my typical means of threatening to kick Fly Boy out of the rig on the highway countered with Fly Boy grabbing the steering wheel and telling me he would put us in the median unless I agreed. Well what better to counter his attack then unbuckle his seat belt and state "you feeling lucky with taking it into the median being unbuckled?" Then with out warning Fly Boy reached over and grabbed my hooded sweatshirt pulling it over my head. As if in the NHL, Fly Boy Jersey'd me in the middle of the highway with no hesitation.
"WTF is this!?!? Are you retarded?" I yell out. "I didn't feel I had much of an option" Fly Boy replies. In order to counter his alpha male attempts of convincing I yell "This is the way its going to be?" and slam on the Gas pedal. "Oh My God" Fly boy screams laughingly. Being surrounded by darkness and speeding away I begin to laugh pulling the hood off my eyes. "Is this what you'd do if Zombies attacked?" I say as we pull off the exit. "Why did you accelerate? we could have crashed?" Fly Boy yells, I turn my head and smile replying "But we didn't, did we?" "ok, ok, Your crazy enough that if Zombies attack I'd be in your fox hole guns or no guns" Fly Boy states while trying to calm his shaking nerves. I smirked knowing I won this argument.

Be Safe
Ambulance Junkie

Down Time

We have all been there, sitting around in our bus at 200 hours waiting for the hand of the clock to click a second closer to the end of our shift. Surrounded by the darkness of the night, our partner snoring away and the soft gentle glow of a street light far off in the distance. We spend countless moments Stumbling through the vast emotional emptiness of the Internet, grinning at the occasional viral video of a hit in the junk while listening to the chirp of the occasional radio transmission. Watching urban nomads settle in for the night on their park bench bed's and the ladies of the night turning tricks a corner away. Maybe we sit in the confines of a station, flipping channels because we have seen the oxyclean infomercial enough to recite it by heart. Listening as the Fire Ambulance signs off yet another assault victim, we pace to the vending machines to tame a late night hunger. The hum of the air conditioner like a lullaby we fight the need to sleep some of us give in to this desire while others review yet another pile of charts.
When we are left to our own devises and are feeling rather creative we can truly come up with some great and memorable time killers. An impromptu snow ball fight employees V.S Supervisor (which I was on the receiving end of) or sledding down a hill with the backboards at the park. In the summer months we kick back and cast our lines in the river and wait for the bass to bite, or maybe work on our drive with a bucket of balls on the range. Grab a Ball and head down to the courts to play a quick two-on-two game of basketball or even a game of horse. Creating a dance atmosphere with the rigs lights and a radio station. Creating an ambulance dance which much like it sounds reenacts the unloading and reloading of the stretcher.
When it comes to the best down time I have ever had; it is hands down the simplest yet most gratifying moments of sitting around the kitchen table in the station late at night telling stories and rolling off each others jokes. Standing in the kitchen reenacting the story of "The Ambulance Chaser" or chuckling over our Brit and his love of Quiche and meat pie's. Laughing at NH's cat book page only to have NH unable to sarcastically defend his love of cats/ Reminiscing about old school toys like lawn darts, Pogs, and intellivision and than having to explain to the nineteen and twenty somethings what they are. Explaining how it really was a lady on a horse we got directions from, and how much better things really are on this side of the river.
The kitchen table talks have to be the greatest time to bond amongst the crews in the station. Interweaving our personal humors and sarcasms into a gut wrenching conversations. Only to be interrupted by the inevitable squawk of the radio...County: "Have a rig for the city"....Dispatch: "That's affirmative"....County: "stand by one"
Be Safe
Ambulance Junkie