After a 48/24/48

I usually give myself about half a day to recover from a 24 hours shift. Not only am I dealing with lack of sleep, but I’m dealing with the after affects of adrenaline rushes and meeting total strangers (seriously, the introvert in me dies every time we get a call). 

Therefore, when I got home from my 48/24/48 marathon; I gave myself a full day to recover. I only did half a workout. I studied the two easiest chapters in my study guide. I got Chipotle for dinner. It was a rather brainless day.

So I thought that I would be fine the next day.

Um….

Not so much.

Some of this could be attributed to the fact that I had a headache all day. But, the headache could easily be blamed on the shifts I had just worked. It’s a chicken/egg kinda thing…

So, anyway – what did I do the day after, the day after a 48/24/48?

I nearly caused two wrecks in the Chick-Fil-A parking lot.

I got to my haircut 45 mins early because I couldn’t do basic math.

I forgot to tip my hair dresser.

I barely made it through the basic act of paying for my take-out pizza…that was awkward…

I probably should not have left the house.

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Against the stereotype

I was feeling a bit brainless yesterday (this is rather normal after a 48 hour shift) so I succumbed to one of those online Facebook quizzes. This one bet they could guess who I was in only 20 questions. Here is their conclusion:

test

I do not have gray hair. I am not married. I most certainly haven’t recently had my first child. I’m actually quite happy with my childhood…despite the whole cult thing. Oh, and I most certainly am NOT male.

They did get a few things right. I am in my mid thirties, I have brown eyes, and I have a fit body…at least that’s what I like to tell myself. And last but not least; I am experiencing exciting days, I know more are coming, and I really hope that I am remaining strong, loving, and deeply caring as I go through life.

I went back through the questions and tried to figure out how they decided I’m a guy. Here’s what I came up with. I chose beef over chicken. I don’t work in an office. I don’t use facial moisturizer or nail polish (Yes, I get pedicures; but I pay someone else to put the nail polish on. I am seriously handicapped when it comes to actually applying the stuff myself.). It takes me less than an hour to get ready in the morning.

But I did say that I cook often and I liked the picture of the children playing. I also did not choose beer. Blech. 

I guess my “masculine” traits outweigh my “feminine” traits.

I’m just not a stereotypical female.

And here is my issue.

Why can’t I just be me?

God programmed my taste buds to like steak.

He made me to be “low maintenance.”

He gifted me to work in an industry that many find “masculine.”

But who cares?

Why do we look at people and see gender, color, socioeconomic status, and nationality?

Why don’t we just see people?

That’s what God sees.

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

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The scream heard ’round the park

The sound of children crying at Disney World is not rare.

There is the “I’m hot and can’t walk another step” cry.

There is the “Why haven’t you fed me yet?” cry.

There is the “Why have you only fed me junk food all day?” cry.

Of course there is the “I’m so overstimulated that it’s going to take me a month to recover” cry.

And last, but not least, there is the “I thought all my wishes were going to come true when we came here and that includes buying me this $100.00 plastic princess crown” cry.

Yes, sadly, there is much crying at Disney World.

Which is why, on July Fourth, the cry didn’t register when it first hit my ears.

Somehow it made it through my filter and alerted my “totally paranoid and flipping out child” censers. That is not a cry that is usually heard at Disney. Not even in Tower of Terror.

As soon as the cry registered I slowed my pace and began scanning the crowd for the source. I finally spotted her on some benches where several families had settled for a short break.

She was about four or five and the terror was written all over her face. In her scramble to get away from the cause of her paranoia, she had ascended her father’s right arm and had made it to the top of his shoulder. She was desperately clawing her way to the top of his head.

As she screamed and clawed, she did not take her eyes off of the object of her fear.

A small, female duck walking towards the families in search of handouts.

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Staycation

Today is the last day of a five day staycation. This glorious period of FIVE days off work was brought about by a couple of shift swaps. The result was a five day break, into a 48 hour shift, into 24 hours off, into another 48 hour shift, into a four day break. I’m choosing to focus on the two large periods of time off.

I’m trying to ignore the possibility that working four out of five days in a row might result in my death…

Ahem…anyway.

This is what a medic does with a five day vacation.

Watch Harry Potter movies from The Goblet of Fire all the way through The Deathly Hallows…in one day…with no guilt. I did pause for food.

Watch a segment of Pride and Prejudice with my friend in Idaho – the A&E version with Colin Firth. Because it is epic.

Listen to thunder. Because Florida produces EPIC thunder and has put on a great show every day for the last week.

Study two chapters a day…okay, I didn’t study the day I watched Harry Potter.

Workout…I didn’t do that on Harry Potter day either…

Sleep in…until 6…silly brain.

Laundry. I know, so exciting.

Pedicures with a friend!! YAY, I actually left my house!!

Make mini-protein muffins with green tea extract added.

Today after I study, I’m going to complete my exciting week with a grocery run. I have to figure out my meals for my 48 hour shifts. I’m thinking salads, hard boiled eggs, and hummus and veggies will get me through.

So there you have it. What a medic does with five days off in a row. Thrilling isn’t it?

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Two books every American should read

If you let EMS providers sit around with each other long enough, we will solve all the problems of the world. We will. This is because we see all the problems of the world. Our conversations usually and with a communal sigh and the words “We wouldn’t have these problems if everyone was required to spend a week on an ambulance.”

Unfortunately, it is logistically impossible for everyone to spend a week on an ambulance. But don’t worry, there is another option.

Last month, I read these two books:

books side-by-side

The first book covers poverty; its causes and how to work with those trapped in its vicious cycle. The second is about death and what modern medicine has done with the dying process.

I made the mistake of purchasing an audio copy of “When Helping Hurts.” It was great for my work commute, but if I had been reading a print copy there would have been many underlined sections. This book is excellent. I see so many causes of poverty and I see so few actual solutions being put in place. This book not only gave real, practical solutions; but it gave hope for change in the near future.

Despite being about death, “In the Midst of Life” is a lighthearted, entertaining read. It has to be…it’s about death… It is the final book written by Jenny Worth of “Call the Midwife” fame. In this book she rights about death which as much passion and clarity as she wrote about birth. She tells of the sacredness of death as it was experienced in the beginning of her medical practice. As the book travels through time to today, she explains how modern medicine has taken away that sacredness. She pleads for us to go back to a time where death was as natural a part of life as birth. The final two chapters are about euthanasia and physician assisted suicide. I do not agree with everything she says, but the thought processes expressed need to understood. 

So there you have it. If you lack a strong stomach, do not have the time, or can’t find an EMS agency that will let you do a ride along (they are rather rare…) but still want to understand and help solve the problems of the world – read these two books.

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I broke the law the other day…

Actually, now it was a few weeks ago; but that is neither here nor there.

I was in hot pursuit of a wet suit and ended up in an area of Orlando undergoing road construction. All was well until I needed to make a left hand turn.

The turn lane was in oncoming traffic. And I do mean oncoming traffic. There was a full lane between my car and the cars going straight. There was a very hidden line between my car and oncoming traffic. But, the light that was to signal my freedom to turn left was in the correct place, so I closed my eyes gritted my teeth and pulled into the turn lane.

I sat through two full cycles of the light before I realized that my left turn light hadn’t budged.

I inched forward hoping to trip some sort of signal to the light that I was there.

No luck.

I inched forward again.

Nothing.

I timed the light cycle and noted when it would be perfectly safe to make a left turn.

I thought through my options.

Run the red light or call 911 for traffic control?

I ran the red light.

I survived.

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Part of my story

I have finally finished going through posts from the last three years and deleting pictures. I managed to free up 1/3 of my media storage. I was hoping for a little more…

It turned out that many of the pictures I had posted were taken at events that included people with whom I no longer have a relationship. For reasons of their own, they have chosen to walk away from the fellowship we once had. Looking through the pictures I was both happy and sad. Happy for the memories made, sad for the lost relationships.

I almost deleted them. After all, the originals still live on my hard drive.

But, I decided to let all the posts stay.

Why?

Because this blog is my story. Those people are a part of my story. They are a part of who I am today. Their influence will be a part of who I am tomorrow. Just because they have chosen not to walk with me through the future doesn’t mean that they should be removed from my past.

So the pictures will stay.

And eventually, I’ll have to pay WordPress for storing them… 

 

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