IN HEAVEN
The Midnight stars are shining
on a lone and silent grave,
Beneath where sleeps the one I love
and whom I could not save.
You bode no one the last farewell
You could not say goodbye.
You were gone before I realized
and only God knows why.
Oh God, please take this message
To the one I love above
Tell her how I miss her
and give her all my love
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
The wreck on highway 109
"The Wreck on Highway 109"
A drunk man in an Oldsmobile they said had run the light
That caused the six-car pileup on 109 that night.
When broken bodies lay about and blood was everywhere,
The sirens screamed out elegies, for death was in the air.
A mother, trapped inside her car, was heard above the noise;
Her plaintive plea near split the air "Oh, God, please spare my boys!"
She fought to loose her pinioned hands; she struggled to get free,
But mangled metal held her fast in grim captivity.
Her frightened eyes then focused on where the backseat once had been,
But all she saw was broken glass and two children's seats crushed in.
Her twins were nowhere to be seen; she did not hear them cry,
And then she prayed they'd been thrown free, "Oh, God, don't let them die!"
Then firemen came and cut her loose, but when they searched the back,
They found therein no little boys, but the seat belts were intact.
They thought the woman had gone mad and was traveling alone,
But when they turned to question her, they discovered she was gone.
Policemen saw her running wild and screaming above the noise
In beseeching supplication, "Please help me find my boys!
They're four years old and wear blue shirts; their jeans are blue to match."
One cop spoke up, "They're in my car, and they don't have a scratch.
They said their daddy put them there and gave them each a cone,
Then told them both to wait for Mom to come and take them home.
I've searched the area high and low, but I can't find their dad.
He must have fled the scene, I guess, and that is very bad."
The mother hugged the twins and said, while wiping at a tear,
"He could not flee the scene, you see, for he's been dead a year."
The cop just looked confused and asked, "Now, how can that be true?"
The boys said, "Mommy, Daddy came and left a kiss for you."
He told us not to worry and that you would be all right,
And then he put us in this car with the pretty, flashing light.
We wanted him to stay with us, because we miss him so,
But Mommy, he just hugged us tight and said he had to go.
He said someday we'd understand and told us not to fuss,
And he said to tell you, Mommy, he's watching over us."
The mother knew without a doubt that what they spoke was true,
For she recalled their dad's last words, "I will watch over you."
The firemen's notes could not explain the twisted, mangled car,
And how the three of them escaped without a single scar.
But on the cop's report was scribed, in print so very fine,
An angel walked the beat tonight on Highway 109.
A drunk man in an Oldsmobile they said had run the light
That caused the six-car pileup on 109 that night.
When broken bodies lay about and blood was everywhere,
The sirens screamed out elegies, for death was in the air.
A mother, trapped inside her car, was heard above the noise;
Her plaintive plea near split the air "Oh, God, please spare my boys!"
She fought to loose her pinioned hands; she struggled to get free,
But mangled metal held her fast in grim captivity.
Her frightened eyes then focused on where the backseat once had been,
But all she saw was broken glass and two children's seats crushed in.
Her twins were nowhere to be seen; she did not hear them cry,
And then she prayed they'd been thrown free, "Oh, God, don't let them die!"
Then firemen came and cut her loose, but when they searched the back,
They found therein no little boys, but the seat belts were intact.
They thought the woman had gone mad and was traveling alone,
But when they turned to question her, they discovered she was gone.
Policemen saw her running wild and screaming above the noise
In beseeching supplication, "Please help me find my boys!
They're four years old and wear blue shirts; their jeans are blue to match."
One cop spoke up, "They're in my car, and they don't have a scratch.
They said their daddy put them there and gave them each a cone,
Then told them both to wait for Mom to come and take them home.
I've searched the area high and low, but I can't find their dad.
He must have fled the scene, I guess, and that is very bad."
The mother hugged the twins and said, while wiping at a tear,
"He could not flee the scene, you see, for he's been dead a year."
The cop just looked confused and asked, "Now, how can that be true?"
The boys said, "Mommy, Daddy came and left a kiss for you."
He told us not to worry and that you would be all right,
And then he put us in this car with the pretty, flashing light.
We wanted him to stay with us, because we miss him so,
But Mommy, he just hugged us tight and said he had to go.
He said someday we'd understand and told us not to fuss,
And he said to tell you, Mommy, he's watching over us."
The mother knew without a doubt that what they spoke was true,
For she recalled their dad's last words, "I will watch over you."
The firemen's notes could not explain the twisted, mangled car,
And how the three of them escaped without a single scar.
But on the cop's report was scribed, in print so very fine,
An angel walked the beat tonight on Highway 109.
Monday, November 8, 2010
A Cardiac Event (Rough draft for now)
Not sure why but over the last couple weeks whatever call I start with is the call I receive all day! Last week it was assault day......nothing to great happened all the same old bs. Today however happened to be Chest pain day. Every patient today had chest pain. 8 of our 10 calls were the same old drama. I am in pain it hurts so bad i rate it a 10....but than I am going to talk on my cell phone the whole way to the ER. So sick of that crap. If you are that sick or in that much pain that you need to take an ambulance get off the freaking phone!!!!!! Our first call that is actually worth writing about was a good one! We were called for a 65 year old male with a c/c of nausea. When we arrived 13 minutes later-because we were given the wrong address a man was sitting on the couch. He appeared calm and simply states I do not want to go. From the history i learned he has a hx of atrial fib. The man was adamant about not going-he had had nausea for 2 days and some of the bystaders ie:his friends had called us. The fireman doing the assessment explained to him it is okay if he does not wat to go but that he would need to sign a form releasing us of liability and if he died (which he would have) we are not held liable. He then proceeded to stand the man up to take another blood pressure. Upon standing the man still c/o nausea ad even joked around with one of the friends. His then said he felt really bad and if we wanted him to go he would go. We laid him down on the gurney placed the 12 lead patches on and bam. He went into a rhythm called Torsades de pointe-rare i should say-then into v-fib and then he was unresponsive. I immediately began CPR. I hate being the one to start cpr by the way----I really don't like hearing the initial rib crack. I deal with it though and move on. I switched places with another medic and was preparing to intubate. The patient to me seemed like he wanted to breat on his own and i could tell he had a gag reflex so i bagged him and waited on the tube. He was than defibrillated at 200 joules. Te fire medic wanted to cardiovert but he was in v-fib and since there were no p waves our brand new life pack 15's would not let him. So he defibrillated at 200 and that was that. The man immediately stopped breathing and that lasted about 2 minutes...the longest 2 minutes i might add. He then began to breath on his own. He opened his eyes and looked at me. I asked him how he was doing-but the answer was obvious. He spoke to me every few minutes or should i say i spoke to him. We brought him back and i was glad. We also obtained the 12-lead and he was having a stemi. We activated the stemi center and brought him in. Once in he was taken to the cath lab where he had a 90% block and coded 3 more times. All in all the guy made it and I am glad! So many times we have these patients and see them talking and we form a sort of bond with them and watchig them die sucks. Its different then having one that was not breathing when we arrive. I guess it is because we personalize it. Tommorow I am going to go see him. I hope he makes it over night!
Monday, October 4, 2010
God's Paramedic
The medic stood and faced God.
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his uniform was clean,
He'd gotten dressed kind of fast.
"Step forward now, paramedic.
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To my church have you been true?"
The medic squared his shoulders and said,
"No Lord I guess I ain't,
cause those of us who wade in blood,
can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays,
and at times my talk was tough.
And at times I've been violent,
cause the streets are awful rough.
But I never took a penny
that wasn't mine to keep...
although I worked a lot of overtime,
when the bills got far too steep.
And I never passed a cry for help,
though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
except to calm their fears.
If you have a place for me, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't I understand."
There was silence all around the throne,
where saints had often trod.
As there medic waited quietly
for the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now, paramedic.
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on heavens streets.
You've done your time in hell."
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his uniform was clean,
He'd gotten dressed kind of fast.
"Step forward now, paramedic.
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To my church have you been true?"
The medic squared his shoulders and said,
"No Lord I guess I ain't,
cause those of us who wade in blood,
can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays,
and at times my talk was tough.
And at times I've been violent,
cause the streets are awful rough.
But I never took a penny
that wasn't mine to keep...
although I worked a lot of overtime,
when the bills got far too steep.
And I never passed a cry for help,
though at times I shook with fear.
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
except to calm their fears.
If you have a place for me, Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't I understand."
There was silence all around the throne,
where saints had often trod.
As there medic waited quietly
for the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now, paramedic.
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on heavens streets.
You've done your time in hell."
Why God made Paramedics
When God made paramedics, He was into His sixth day of overtime.
An angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
God said, "Have you read the specs on this order?
A Paramedic has to be able to carry an injured person up a wet, grassy hill in the dark,
dodge stray bullets to reach a dying child unarmed,
enter homes the health inspector wouldn't touch,
and not wrinkle his uniform."
"He has to be able to lift three times his own weight.
Crawl into wrecked cars with barely enough room to move,
and console a grieving mother as
he is doing CPR on a baby he knows will never breathe again."
"He has to be in top mental condition at all times,
running on no sleep, black coffee and half-eaten meals,
and he has to have six pairs of hands."
The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands...no way."
"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," God replied.
"It's the three pairs of eyes a medic has to have."
"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.
God nodded. "One pair that sees open sores as he's drawing blood,
always wondering if the patient is HIV positive."
(When he already knows and wishes he'd taken that accounting job)
"Another pair here in the side of his head for his partner's safety.
And another pair of eyes here in front
that can look reassuringly at a bleeding victim and say,
"You'll be alright ma'am when he knows it isn't so."
"Lord," said the angel, touching His sleeve, "rest and work on this tomorrow."
"I can't," God replied.
"I already have a model that can talk a 250 pound
drunk out from behind a steering wheel
without incident and feed a family of five on a private service paycheck."
The angel circled the model of the Paramedic very slowly.
"Can it think?" she asked.
"You bet", God said.
"It can tell you the symptoms of 100 illnesses;
recite drug calculations in it's sleep;
intubate, defibrillate, medicate, and continue CPR
nonstop over terrain that any doctor would fear...
and it still keeps it's sense of humor."
"This medic also has phenomenal personal control.
He can deal with a multi-victim trauma,
coax a frightened elderly person to unlock their door,
comfort a murder victim's family,
and then read in the daily paper how Paramedics were
unable to locate a house quickly enough,
allowing the person to die.
A house that had no street sign, no house numbers, no phone to call back."
Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the Paramedic.
"There's a leak," she pronounced.
"I told You that You were trying to put too much into this model."
"That's not a leak," God replied, "It's a tear."
"What's the tear for?" asked the angel.
"It's for bottled up emotions,
for patients they've tried in vain to save,
for commitment to that hope
that they will make a difference in a person's chance to survive, for life."
"You're a genius!" said the angel.
God looked somber.
"I DIDN'T PUT IT THERE" He said.
Author Unknown
An angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
God said, "Have you read the specs on this order?
A Paramedic has to be able to carry an injured person up a wet, grassy hill in the dark,
dodge stray bullets to reach a dying child unarmed,
enter homes the health inspector wouldn't touch,
and not wrinkle his uniform."
"He has to be able to lift three times his own weight.
Crawl into wrecked cars with barely enough room to move,
and console a grieving mother as
he is doing CPR on a baby he knows will never breathe again."
"He has to be in top mental condition at all times,
running on no sleep, black coffee and half-eaten meals,
and he has to have six pairs of hands."
The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands...no way."
"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," God replied.
"It's the three pairs of eyes a medic has to have."
"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.
God nodded. "One pair that sees open sores as he's drawing blood,
always wondering if the patient is HIV positive."
(When he already knows and wishes he'd taken that accounting job)
"Another pair here in the side of his head for his partner's safety.
And another pair of eyes here in front
that can look reassuringly at a bleeding victim and say,
"You'll be alright ma'am when he knows it isn't so."
"Lord," said the angel, touching His sleeve, "rest and work on this tomorrow."
"I can't," God replied.
"I already have a model that can talk a 250 pound
drunk out from behind a steering wheel
without incident and feed a family of five on a private service paycheck."
The angel circled the model of the Paramedic very slowly.
"Can it think?" she asked.
"You bet", God said.
"It can tell you the symptoms of 100 illnesses;
recite drug calculations in it's sleep;
intubate, defibrillate, medicate, and continue CPR
nonstop over terrain that any doctor would fear...
and it still keeps it's sense of humor."
"This medic also has phenomenal personal control.
He can deal with a multi-victim trauma,
coax a frightened elderly person to unlock their door,
comfort a murder victim's family,
and then read in the daily paper how Paramedics were
unable to locate a house quickly enough,
allowing the person to die.
A house that had no street sign, no house numbers, no phone to call back."
Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the Paramedic.
"There's a leak," she pronounced.
"I told You that You were trying to put too much into this model."
"That's not a leak," God replied, "It's a tear."
"What's the tear for?" asked the angel.
"It's for bottled up emotions,
for patients they've tried in vain to save,
for commitment to that hope
that they will make a difference in a person's chance to survive, for life."
"You're a genius!" said the angel.
God looked somber.
"I DIDN'T PUT IT THERE" He said.
Author Unknown
Friday, August 13, 2010
EMS POEM
EMS POEM
Sorry, if we woke you in the middle of the night,
But someone in your neighborhood was fighting for their life.
Sorry, if we block the road and make you turn around,
But there's a bad wreck with people dying on the ground.
When you see us coming, we hope you'll understand
Lets us have the right-of-way, someone needs our helping hand.
Sometimes a person is choking, sometimes a broken leg,
Sometimes a heart stops beating
And when we get there, it's too late.
So if you see us crying, when we think that we're alone
You'll know we had a "bad one" and were feeling mighty down.
You ask us why we do it?
"How can you watch a child die?
It's never very easy, but we'll try to tell you why.
We don't do it for the money; you see, we don't get paid.
We don't do it for the glory, but for the life that might be saved.
Somewhere deep within us, our souls are crying out.
We are here to help our neighbors in their hours of pain and doubt.
God gave us something special, to help us see you through,
We do it because we love you, and care about you, too.
Sorry, if we woke you in the middle of the night,
But someone in your neighborhood was fighting for their life.
Sorry, if we block the road and make you turn around,
But there's a bad wreck with people dying on the ground.
When you see us coming, we hope you'll understand
Lets us have the right-of-way, someone needs our helping hand.
Sometimes a person is choking, sometimes a broken leg,
Sometimes a heart stops beating
And when we get there, it's too late.
So if you see us crying, when we think that we're alone
You'll know we had a "bad one" and were feeling mighty down.
You ask us why we do it?
"How can you watch a child die?
It's never very easy, but we'll try to tell you why.
We don't do it for the money; you see, we don't get paid.
We don't do it for the glory, but for the life that might be saved.
Somewhere deep within us, our souls are crying out.
We are here to help our neighbors in their hours of pain and doubt.
God gave us something special, to help us see you through,
We do it because we love you, and care about you, too.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
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