Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Vices and Training

So lately I've developed this strange craving, which is the strange desire to start smoking. I have no idea where it came from but for the last month or so it's been everything I can do not to go to the corner store and buy a pack. I've never really smoked before, well once when I was seventeen and curious but hey I think I coughed up half a lung from not doing it right and it wasn't even a full one. It's weird because I find myself thinking about it when I'm bored at home or at work after hot calls. There are these little pirouline things that I bought, which is just a wafer like chocolate thing but it's like a stick and seems effective at putting the cravings at bay, it's just sad that I have to play pretend to get rid of them. Like I said, I have no idea where this craving has come from all of a sudden, but I hope it goes away soon.

One of the girls on my old shift came in, she had been off on maternity leave, with the two little boys that she had adopted. They were ... 2 and 3 ...4 I think but they were sweet. It's so funny to see people that I know are quite, bit jaded and tough just go to adorable mush around kids and pets. My OM, had one in chair and was wheeling him around the centre, he even bought them both candy from the vending machine. These kids also had a liking to our highlighters so we didn't have one in the centre until they were gone.

I'm on a break this cycle from my CPIC training, as we were too short for me to be off of calltaking but I'm enjoying the break. I like both positions and really don't care where I sit. It's just last shift there I made a few mistakes which I hate. I'll admit it first, I'm a perfectionist when it comes to myself so I don't really like training. I don't like knowing that I'm not as good as I should be and hate making mistakes. Needless to say it's a stressful time for me because I'm getting more mad at myself then my trainer, actually he's never gotten mad, he's pretty laid back. They are not bad or big mistakes but I'll miss type a code and have to do it all over again or I'll forget which of the several new codes I need. I know it'll take time to do it fluently, I just hate not being there yet. I keep thinking it's not fair to the officers who are used to asking a request say for someones CPIC and CNI and getting it back in within a minute and me who might take two minutes.

There is this sergeant who calls up and every female that answers the phone she thinks is Katie, every male she thinks is James. I've been told it's not that I don't sound like me, it's that I don't sound like James. Great. Oh well, maybe if I make a mistake with her, Katie will get the blame, ha ha ha ha!

Me: Calling back abandoned cell phone *secret number*
Rapper: Bah da da da
Me: What?
Rapper: Yo yo what up all the dawgs! I ain't home but yo! Yo! Yo! Crazytown! Yeyyy!
Me: *starring blankly at my computer screen* Are you drunk?
It then goes into a recorded message saying that my improv rapper that I had been calling back was wanting me to lave a message after beep. Fo sho, aiight

Going into my last night shift tonight, got my two Rockstars keeping cool in the fridge. My second and new vice. I love those things and they do wake me up. I can time them apart and when the crash should be so I get the second one when I'm just getting home. It's an art. It's funny because I got lectured about it from this one coworker, who I think is a prude (rock music the root of all evil, don't dare say nipple and I've never done anything wrong or impolite kind). My comeback was though, she smokes like a chimney. She told me it was bad for my health, so do cigarettes. It's bad for you heart, so are cigarettes. They'll stop you heart, cigarettes will destroy your heart. This went on for a little bit as I sipped my Rockstar and she eventually gave up and went out to have a cigarette. We all have our vices, it's just about our vices not having us.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Dispatcher Bitch aka CPIC

***for some reason, blogger is not keeping my paragraphs when I post, sorry for the long stretch of words.*** So I'm looking at flights on line, going to Ottawa in the summer, checking out some prices, you know, all that stuff. So I wondered if I was allowed to bring my own food on or if they'd be like a movie theater and only want you to eat their stuff. There is a spot to check for it and a little drop down list. No where does it say food but it has informed me that I cannot bring a catapult on board. Damn. Some of the rules seem silly and I wonder who in their right minds would be bringing some of these things. I suppose the rules are for people, who are in fact, not in functioning minds. Last cycle during my night shifts I started my CPIC training which is exciting. Before I was simply 911 and non emergency police and fire. Now I will be on the radio as well, getting tow trucks, running people, vehicles for officers. If an officer needs a phone number of a business or if any dispatch just in general needs someone called, I do it. I turned to a friend and informed her, that essentially I was the dispatch bitch. I don't mind, but I draw the line at getting coffee and doing someones dry cleaning. It also means I am one step closer to dispatching as well. It's where I want to end up. I don't know if I said it before but in our centre we have calltakers (answer 911, alarm, non emerg police/fire) and dispatchers (Fire=Handles radio/needs for responding fire crew, Police=handles radio/needs for police of all sub agencies Cpic=dispatch bitch, lol, jk, already described) Most people get trained in 3 areas, so three skills, others get trained in all and have 4 skills. Last night shift I ended up going back to calltaking because they closed CPIC down at 3. We had members/call takers/dispatchers going home earlier (most earlier then this) and we were short staffed. We had a member that passed away so they were going to the funeral the next day. Some very considerate people came to our watch to fill in while we did this, so thanks! My last call of the night was a woman who sounded rather calm, but that was not a reflection of her situation. Me: 911, What is your emergency? Girl: I'm upside down, please help me. Me: You're upside down? Girl: My car went off the road. It flipped. I'm upside down. So, I got help to her, while's she dangling down. Someone stopped and was able to get her out. She wasn't hurt at all, which is very lucky. I instructed her to just sit in one place, if it was safe to do so and not move until the paramedics or firefighters instructed her. Throughout this whole time she is calm for the most of it, once or twice getting a bit hyper, but really that was awesome. She knew where she was and she was willing to listen to me and do what I was instructing. When she thanked me, it was one of the most sincere thank yous I have had in this job. So tomorrow is my first day back, off to make some blue jello for first day shift. It's a sudden and intense addiction, lol. Oh and post #60, man I talk a lot.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Russian Roulette 911 Style

Ok so picture this, there are five of us sitting in a room, 911 rings and the caller hangs up and goes straight to the 'abandoned' queue. It didn't light up any ones name so technically it's any ones and every ones. Normally these can ding a few times before someone will grab it. This time, four out of five grab it at the same time. It should not have worked but it rang on all our headsets, we're all looking at each other, realizing we all grabbed it. "Who's going to be the luck
y winner?" I got an error message. Woo! Slowly until the last one standing got the caller and yes, the person was a charmer, lol. Ha ha!

We also have this game which is very bad if the tape ever goes to court. It's how we deal with the frustration of pocket dials (someone dialing 911 in their pocket). It's always a mistake and the call never goes anywhere, still, some of play the accent game. When we call back we do our script but we do it in an accent. I like doing British and a coworker is excellent with the good ole southern charm. Sometimes it's fun to even make fun of ourselves, saying about like aboot and saying eh a lot. I find this game happens a lot on night shift, right around three ... three thirty.

Today was steady and man people did not want to place nice with each other at all. Assaults, weapons, disturbances, argh. It's Wednesday morning people, hump day. Go hump or something. Tomorrow is st. paddy's day and I know there will be some classy people staggering around the streets around 11 in the morning. Job security folks.

What firemen do when no one is watching

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Green Socks

Me: 911 What is your emergency?
Mismatched: There is a fight going on in the apartment above me.
Me: Alright. Is your address *secret address* and your phone number *secret number*
Mismatched: Yes.
Me: Okay is it a verbal fight or ...
Mismatched: Oh no they are scrapping. There's yelling, pounding the walls, thumping, crying and oh my god!
Me: What? What?
Mismatched: My socks don't match.
Me: What?
Mismatched: That one is for sure green. Dark green I thought it was black and ...
Me: The fight sir?
Mismatched: Oh yeah ...

He wasn't crazy and it was an actual fight. It was just how one of those times you notice something in mid sentence and go off on that topic. Train has switched tracks.

I don't know how many people get individuals like this but I had a caller on my Non Emerg phone who only wanted to talk to a male officer. First I explained that we were civilians and not police officers which only made matters worse. He demanded I transferred him to a male co-worker and be snappy about it. Oh I wanted to be snappy but not like that. I told him I could not transfer within the same department (unless its a person looking for specifically another person, like friend, family or they were directed to ask). He was getting so mad at me, sayin every name in the book and why woman shouldn't be in law enforcement or be police officers or even really leave the home period. By the end of it I was just keeping my remarks to myself and kept on saying, "So if you don't have a police issue ..." Finally he asked how he could speak to a male co-worker up in my department. I told he couldn't we were all female. He hung up. We have 3 males on shift but they weren't in call taking then. I drink my Red Bull and get a call for a suicidal male with a wood saw. I was kinda hoping it was the same one but alas I never got my first callers name. Okay so I don't actually wish that, but it did cross my mind.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Sports Injury Virginity

So yesterday I was scheduled to work my first in my set of nights, so I try to sleep in until ten thirty. Around quarter after I am waken by a charlie horse in my right leg. It lasts for about 3 minutes then goes away. I go back to sleep. About ten thirty I get another one but in my left leg. Damn these things hurt like a bitch, rub the muscle it goes away after a few minutes. Back to sleep, hey I'm owed 10 mins or so now. About quarter to I'm ready to face the world, but, uh oh. Legs not moving. Hmm. Am I in one of those half in, half out of sleep things again? That would suck. Nope. I can move the rest of me alright, arm sort of hurts but I'm cool. Roll a bit, legs so don't want to face the day like me. I know the list of chores is daunting but come on. It takes about five or so minutes to actually get my legs rotated from the bed to the floor. At this point I realize this probably isn't good. Well I'm sitting up, might as well see if I can walk. Two tries to get up, failed, third try I am up! Woo! Standing perfectly still and sort of hunched over but it counts. I'm not really in any pain but both calve muscles are tight as hell. Feels like they have solidified and are hanging off the bone.

Sit up, standing up, done, now walking. I'll just walk it out, yeah. Walk, walk, near fall. I like that my room is small and there is a wall pretty much in arms length at all times. When I walk it's like I'm drunk, I'm so uncoordinated, balance sucks and my calves are pulling. Hmm ... walk this out a bit more. I start doing laps around my apartment to try and you know, get the blood moving. Then I feel dizzy, light headed so I sit down. Shit. I first thought it was a reaction to my remicade, it does have joint pain as a side effect but not muscle. Check in with my friend who is a RN. Find out it does have the potential for muscle pian too. Ok so maybe this will wear off. I tried to get a hold of my coordinator for my Remicade but it's one of those, leave a message we'll call you back deals. I wait a bit and it's not getting easier. Walking is hard and I start getting a headache, I make the decision to go to a walk in clinic. Not before struggling through a shower and shaving my damn legs to they are smooth, my pride will kill me.

My dad is a sweet guy and picked me up to drive me to the walk in. Very fast as he says "I cannot help you, I do not have an xray." Xray? I didn't break my legs? Apparently I might have cracked or fractured them in my sleep? I realize I probably wouldn't want his medical advice anyways. He sends me to emerg. No way. This wasn't an emergency situation. I was fine. I just wanted to sleep. I call the 811 system, which is like talking to a RN for medical advice. They wouldn't really do anything where I technically saw a doctor, so they couldn't re-triage me. Sigh, they only said I would have to do what the doctor suggested.

My dad drove me to the pharmasave first, I was still thinking it over but if I was going to go I was going to get Emla patches. As I'm waiting at the pharmacist desk I realize that I can't really stand up that long. I had to lean on the counter, my legs were twitching, my eye was twitching, headache was so bad and I just wanted to sleep. Ok. So maybe I'd go. I'd see how busy it was, I had things to do before work that night. Went in and well there was like one or two people. Shit. Now I have no more excuses and I go in.

I will say 99% of medical staff I have ever come across in this hospital were excellent, they are all so very friendly and they explain things to me so I understand. I get some bloodwork done which is , ugh but anyways. The doctor is examining my legs, I'm on my gut, with my feet dangling off. My left leg is swollen. Great. They are very tender the touch. She was pressing on the calf muscle lightly but it felt like she had pincers and hated me. Both legs but the left was definitely worse. As we are talking my headache is getting worse, I am squinting, the light hurts, all the sounds hurt. She was sweet. She turned off the light and we talked in the dark. It was better. They thought I might have a blood clot as my blood work was fine, so no nutrient defences. Ok. They wanted me to come back in the morning for an ultrasound. Ok. They wanted to give me blood thinners overnight though. Sure. Needle in stomach ... no fu*king way. Ya'll know by now I have this phobia thing of needles, veins are hard enough but in direct skin. I was no good and had a mild panic attack. After that I left to return in the morning.

I didn't go to work as when I was discharged it was already well into my shift and I had a headache which my doctor said was a migraine. I get home, I lie down on the couch, with a rag on my head and hear this 'plop'. Opening my eyes I see Lee drop his ball beside my head, his front paws on the couch and his eyes looking at me. If he could talk he'd be saying "You're legs are broken not your arm."

Got the ultrasound done, which hurt more then I thought it would. I asked the tech if she was trying to go through the other side? I said in joke so she laughed. Back in Emerg and waiting for the results. New doctor comes in. God he's cute. Sex therapy? Ok. Ha! Just kidding. He examines my legs again while telling me the ultrasound was fine. He's going over my history a bit as he too pincers onto my calf muscles. Painful as hell. There were no tears or things like that but what we've discovered is this. From January to August of 10 I barely moved, because of my fistula. I just could not walk that far and was pretty much confined to sitting. August-Mid January of this year I was getting rides to work and walking a little bit. Mid January to now I was walking all the time and really putting some stride in it. He said my body wasn't ready for it, I'd have to take it easier but that I could do it. He even showed me some stretches, that I could do for a warm up and 5 minutes in. I always thought a walk was a warm up but I've been proven wrong. So essentially I strained the hell out of those two muscles and as he said 'lost my sports injury virginity.' Didn't think of walking as a sport but hey now it's out of the way. i will take it easy for a few days and stretch before walking. I mentioned that I wanted to run and he thought it was a good idea. Just start slow and easy and build up. I can do that.

Got a redbull, vitamin enhanced water, and two chocolate eggs for tonight. Since I can't nap and have a 12 hour night shift tonight, oh it's going to be fun. Look out Crazytown, this girl is sore, tired and hyped up!

Sunday, March 6, 2011

What was that?

So I'm sitting writing my book, doing some corrections, research when, bing you have received a message from facebook. Good ole facebook eh? Click the link and it's a friend from work, well Ambulance dispatcher GH who commented on a picture I drew. Cool he likes it. I wrote a thanks and left it at that. Next thing I know, another bing. Message this time. We sometimes chat on here and they are normally short, like roads going to be bad, drive safe sort of thing. He said, "i poked you now don't get excited..lol " He's the joking kind of guy so I play back for a bit. As the conversation reaches our normal 3 or 4 record, he keeps going and I'm trying to ignore the fact that he is flirting with me. It's so obvious but I pretend to be oblivious and talk about other things. He is a nice guy and I do/did have a crush on him, I'll admit it but I wanted to keep things professional. Plus he's 15 years my senior and he's in a relationship already. That and his first name is the same as one of my brothers, major awkward if it ever went down that road.

Anyways this game goes on for a little bit, and it's getting harder to ignore his intentions and I simply say I was sorry for putting the thoughts in his head but we shouldn't continue the conversation like how it was going. Him being in a relationship and talking the way he was, didn't make me feel good about myself. No way would I be the 'other woman'. his response was this, "
no your not im not really sorry, just guess im a tipical man " Wow, had to end this conversation soon or my respect for him would go down another notch. I assured him I was sorry and that was really all I was going to have with that kind of conversation. Told him I wanted to be friends and that was it. He seemed cool with and we did swap phone numbers in case we ever wanted to just hang as friends. I don't mind hanging out and what have you, but like I said I won't be the other woman. He quickly excused himself from the conversation and that was it.

I don't know, I'm not really used to that kind of attention. I blame that on being shy and overweight growing up, and being sick, committed to work and still overweight as an adult. I keep telling myself that it was the right thing to do, to cut that conversation off where it was. I admit I did like the things he was saying but I do doubt their sincerity. I still want to be friends because he does make me laugh. Just might have to be one of those, keep a little safe zone with. I think me not being a one night stand, or friends with benefits kind of girl it's going to be awhile before I have to deal with this again.

Monday, February 28, 2011

First sprint

Scheduled to work today, not in because of vacation. Woo I love those words. So technically this is day 5 in my set of 12 that I have, first day that I would otherwise be working though. So far I have cleaned my apartment twice, seen 2.5 friends, stocked my freezer with gumbo and made banana bread. Going to see my Nana tomorrow and take care of her for a few days, then making the trip back to CrazyTown to hang with my BroBro. Exciting stuff, lol. The other day I had to walk to work because, airhead me, forgot to fill out forms for a shift exchange for another colleague so out to walk I go. It was on the way back though that a co-worker, who had been driving around on her lunch saw me and offered me a ride home. What was cool was that she stopped maybe thirty seconds up at the closest cross street and I ran to her. I was so excited that I actually ran, well sprinted, to her at a good speed and I didn't hurt at all. Same time last year I was barely walking more then 10 mins at a time and forget about running. Was so happy just to run, remembering when it hurt to stand. Then I wanted to run everywhere. Run, run, run. Yeeee!

I'm walking more now and I'm wishing that the sidewalks would stay nice and cleared for me to try to run on but they keep getting snowed and iced up. My luck I'd run, slip and break my leg and be in traction for the rest of my vaca.

Got up early this morning to have breakfast with my dad, we went to Smitty's and oh my it was good. Too good. There are no small meals there, at all. You can get three pancakes but they are covered in sugary sauce and whip cream or 5 pancakes. Hmm way too many carbs. Good ole bacon and eggs .... and toast and hashbrowns? And sausage and bacon and a fruit cup. It's just me! It's like going to a Chinese restaurant and trying to order off the dinner for 2 or 3 meals. I ended up with what I thought was 3 pancakes (plain), sausage and an egg. Nope. Got it. Pancakes, sausage, bacon,ham and 3 eggs. WTF! I am one person, why make meals this big? Needless to say I took over half of it home in a take out container, plus is I now have lunch as well. I tried their 'hot' sauce for my eggs, mildly warm. But I'm used to spicy food. My GI is confused by me. I'm not supposed to be able to eat hot and spicy foods but I love them and they don't hurt. It would be easier for me to guzzle a bottle of hot sauce like cola then eat a cup of lettuce or a stalk of celery. My crohns is weird. Meh, I know what I can and can't eat, I adjust accordingly. Urgh three baby carrots required several shots of morphine to make the pain stop and a steady dose of steroids to fix. Go figure.

Still recovering from my infusion though, starting to sleep better and obviously I can eat again. Got a nice bruise too and my veins are hiding. I like my nurse though, she does it in one poke, both bloodwork and infusion and can always make my veins come up. She also doesn't get scared by me because I do shake, a lot. It's not something I can control, my eyes just close and sometimes I vibrate others I rock. Ironically on the hand that gets the infusion, forearm down is still. I've had inexperienced nurses try to poke me but they get hesitant because of the shakes, I don't blame them. Sometimes they have to get a senior person to do it. As long as they do it in one poke it's good. Otherwise ... it's not good. I pass out most of the time or stop breathing. They've suggest hypno therapy but I don't know anything is worth a try I guess.

Writing more of my book, I've decided to keep the scene in. I feel it's been written as tasteful as possible and adds to the story. The girl that gets everything that can go wrong thrown on her still manages to overcome it all. There is a disclaimer though at the beginning of the book in case it may offend anyone. However, this book is her life and life itself comes with a disclaimer.

Oh FYI there is a serious bumper crop of weird and half crazed taxi drivers out there. I do not like it when as soon as you get in the cab they lock you in. Yell about politics and how they hate their job and everyone, take the most isolated routes you never even knew about and then get mad when you don't tip. This is especially disturbing when you just finished watching the criminal minds episode of where the taxi driver was killing some of the female customers he picked up. Not just killing, submerging their body in methanol and using her to make scented candles!

Well I got cleaning to do, baking of mints to do and some story to write. If the weather stays nice and the sidewalks clear up, might just go for a little sprint or two!

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Who needs sleep?

So I am up, and it's late. I should be sleeping but I can't. Argh. Infusion tomorrow. Got to sleep, but I drank 6 litres of water today, so too many bathroom breaks to sleep. Too much anxiety about the needle to keep my eyes closed. Argh! Hate these things.

Last night shift wasn't bad at all, really slow. The calls we did get were interesting. I was laughing at this girl cause her first call was really hot, suicidal, armed and he didn't want to come out an play. Then I got my first call, Robbery in prog with weap. Damn karma. One more hot call for the remainder and that was it. Pretty slow so I got a lot of writing for my book done. Had this one call, where it borders on gross and extremely sweet. Guy calls up, his wife passed out on the toilet. They're not older, like maybe twenties, no drugs or liquor, she just wasn't feeling well and passed out. So he picked her up, cleaned her and put her in their bed and then called 911. She had a bowel movement in bed and he cleaned her again. I guess when you get used to taking so many domestic violence calls, that when you get a call and they actually care, you remember. I was thinking, that was sweet, gross but sweet that he was willing to do that so she'd be comfortable, even passed out. He was thinking about her pride too. I remember he was talking to her between answering the questions of the paramedic (on the phone). He was telling her it'd be ok, that he loved her and he would be with her. My god, so sweet. Nothing like one of my managers first 911 calls. "I just killed my husband! Ha! Ha! Ha! *CLICK*"

On my first vacation, sweet woo hoo yeah! Vaca! Vaca! Going to see my BroBro, my Nana, my mum and my daddy! Yey! Going to see a few friends, clean the entire apartment and then sleep. Maybe. No sleep tonight. No. Damn anxiety.

I'd eat supper if it'd stay down but probably wouldn't. So hard to eat day before, day of and day after. I'm exhausted from lack of sleep but still can't drift off. I wish there was away to just get rid of this phobia, argh. I was given a theory, that I will try tomorrow. The theory is, pretend you love it. Pretend it's the best thing in the world and that it's the biggest turn on. Umm ... she's sticking a syringe and then a hollow tube in me!!! At least I didn't pass out last time, going to try to shoot for that again. Too bad there wasn't knock out gas. I'd like that. Good ole dose of zzz right before the stick. Sigh. I'm rambling. I'm tired. Going to try and crash for a bit. I leave you with this piece of retro music fro BNL.

There's so much joy in life,so many pleasures all around
But the pleasure of insomnia is one I've never found
With all life has to offer,there's so much to be enjoyed
But the pleasures of insomnia are ones I can't avoid

Lids down,
I count sheep
I count heartbeats
The only thing that counts is that I won't sleep
I countdown,
I look around

Hala Hala Hala

Who needs sleep?
well you're never gonna get it
Who needs sleep?
tell me what's that for
Who needs sleep?
be happy with what you're getting
There's a guy who's been awake since the Second World War

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Visit home and Writing question

So going back to work tomorrow, looking forward to it. Sometimes I enjoy work for the fact that it gets my mind off of home stuff and vice versa. Spent a few days in RedNeck Town looking after my Nana. She doesn't know who I am anymore and there are days she doesn't know my parents either. All she knows is I'm the girl who brings her meals in, cleans her soiled bed and helps her up from the toilet if she can't get up. We do puzzles together which involve me putting the pieces she tells me to where she wants them to go. She remembers the cat's name though. Damn cat.

Being back in town gave me a chance to catch up with my neighbors. While Nana was taking a nap I escaped for a bit. My mother dropped her dog, Kassie, off so I took her for a walk. It was good to have a buddy and this Westie/Silky mix had lots of energy to go around. We went for maybe a half hour walk and stopped at the bakery. Kassie got a sugar cookie and I got some cinnamon buns for my Nana, they are her favourite. Headed back home, and made homemade pizza from absolute scratch. Made the dough, which was awesome, made the sauce, can't tolerate bottle stuff, and pepperoni, green pepper, mushrooms and bacon bits. And of course cheese! In grade six our class broke into groups where we made pizza, I learned then. Never too much cheese.

The days there felt very long and tiring, but it was a good sort of tired. Did lots of laundry and cleaned a tons of dishes. I watched her struggle with almost everything and the way she sat comatose even. I half wished if it was going to happen, it would just happen so she wouldn't suffer like this. I was glad Kassie was there. Some things you can only tell to a dog.

Got back to Crazy Town when my dad came home and now I wait for the phone call again. Every time I get a call from home my brain is telling me it's them calling to tell me she's passed on. It's going to be sooner rather then later.

Meals are all prepped and in containers for tomorrow and it's almost time for bed. Geesh when did 9:30 become my bed time? I'm a writer and currently I am writing a book about the life story of a very troubled girl (age 8-15). I sent a section to a friend to get feed back and was told, 'it's a little dark'. Book is a lot dark but it's all about how even when bad things happen you can overcome them and finding the blessings that aren't always evident. She might be a child and having incredible hardships thrown at her, but she's strong and overcomes them in the end, showing if nothing else, life goes on. I guess the question is, how much is too much? I don't like taming down stories and often will let a story go as far as it goes because I feel I am more a median for the story and it tells itself. Issue was this was a 11 year old girl who gets raped. I don't write the actual rape, as I do not write porn, but more or less the after affects of it. Describing the suicidal and homicidal feelings she has inside her as she scrubbing to get clean in the shower. They are not more then thoughts as she's going through her emotions. I didn't sit down and go hmm what to write ... a child getting raped. It's just how the story goes as again it shows everything she can overcome. And yes she does attempt suicide but when she's fifteen. No homicide though. Is it too much? Because I almost feel like taking it out would compromise the story.

Just finished the scene, looking it over. It's intense but I felt it's been done tactfully and brutally honest. Let's face it, this does happen. There is a little blood in the shower scene, but again it's tactfully done. My story does have a warning on the cover though, just to warn readers that there is a little more to the title, 'A loving mother'.

Off to bed, off to bed. Geesh. Word of advice, do not drink a litre of water in two hours, it will take you forever to write a blog post.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

911 Fashion Show

So just finished up my first cycle with squad 3 which was nice and very relaxed. I found they are a mellow group, which works just fine with me! Still getting used to the consecutive 12 hour shifts but they are getting easier. Patience does start to run out about five thirty am though. Took a call from a girl who was sobbing because she was assaulted by someone I couldn't even get the name of. Near hysterics because the person who 'assaulted' her was still there with friends, everyone was yelling, my caller was a puddle and I had to sigh. Finally got the address out of her and even when the police were there she was going on. I had to raise my voice to her and say "Stop sobbing now and go see the FFFFFF police outside!" Closest I've ever come to swearing at a caller. Besides being sobbing she was also very dramatic. I hate drama people, argh!

I'm a little out of order but meh I just woke up. I started the shift of my last night with what sounded like a double stabbing, oh fun. Cept this caller was drunk and hysterical, yeay! Yeah she had a cut thumb and he had a scratch. Bastards. If you're going to get me all 'ahh' about that and have my units screaming code, make it good!

We have this one crazy lady in the city who has been banned from almost everyplace she's been to. I'm talking from shelters, hospitals and even the police station. Pretty much the only place she can go is booking! We are dealing with her daily, sometimes multiple times in a day as she calls 911 from random payphones and causes a scene.

Last night shift I was tired and cranky, I'll admit it. Went to the bathroom and saw heels sticking out from one of the stalls. "WTF?" Saw all this bright coloured material there inside the large stall. Was confused.

"Kat?" It was my supervisor MZ.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Trying on dresses."
"Oh ... why the hell are you doing that?"
"Gala thingy that I have to go to with the hubby."
"Oh ... sufferage."
"Can you zip me up?"
Shrugs why not. "Alright."
She comes out with this little beige dress that is nice but has an ugly colour. And she asks the dreaded question. "What do you think?"
"Will you fire me for my opinion?"
"Dress itself is nice, like the design, butt ugly colour."
She sighs but nods. "I gotta show the floor, they want to see."
"911 fashion show?"
"Yeah. Zip?"
I zip her up, which was a sight I really didn't need to see but anyways.
"I'll be back."
"How many dresses you got?"
"I don't know .... couple red ones, couple blue ones ..."
"I'll just wait here." I sat on the counter and swung my legs.
So she did several dresses and then I had to take pictures on her camera phone so she could compare later. It is definitely different having a female supervisor. I didn't think going to the bathroom would lead to an hour off the phone and me becoming a fashion assistant.

Now on days off but it's not much of time off. Getting ready to leave soon to head home to RedNeck Town. My father is on a business trip and my brother has been making daily trips to take care of my Nana. She is sick and is nearing the end of the line, which is a bit sad but I want to make her remaining time happy. She has dementia so that means I can tell the same joke every half hour and she'll be in stitches all day. I want to make sure her meals are more enjoyable then toast for breakfast, sandwich for lunch and then fish,potato and corn for supper. I'll be there for a few days and then when my father comes back I'll comeback in. I have been given death instructions though. Mother says to call her first. Uh ... hell no. If she's dying or in the process of, I'm calling 911. She says to me, you know that would mean a police officer might come to. I told her I was slightly familiar with the process and would be able to do it. I'd call her after I did them.

Oh well. Gotta get ready, almost time to leave.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Court and Clown feet

So had this gross 24 hour bug thing, not fun. Cramps, nausea and a real poster case for PMS without the actual mechanics. Yuck argh. But did you know Pepto Bismol comes in a peppermint insta cool chewable tablet? I didn't. Not until after this passed. I know have it for next time. Day off 1.

Day off 2 I had to go to court for an arson call. I was lucky because I was feeling better and even more lucky cause Dispatcher Grumpy had to go too. We waited up in the Crown's office for a bit which was fun because Grumps was there to keep my company. It was my turn to see the Crown so I walked in and sat alone at this big long table. Cool. From the way she was talking about it, it sounded like I would actually take the stand this time, so cool. She was telling me not to speculate and if I was asked to either look at the judge or herself and she would object. Cool. I have had 11 subpoenas in 2.5 years which is a lot for us. This was Dispatcher Grumpy's first and he'd been there 10 years plus. Sigh, all of mine however I've only ever got to go in and sit down and never had to go up. I want to, at least once.

It's a little bit of nervous, I won't lie but I believe in what I say and I did everything I was supposed to. Besides I'm in no risk of legal penalty. She finishes up with me and I go back to sit out in the waiting room. I meet a few of the officers that are also on the file but that I had never met in person. I'm listening to them and I'm tyring to match their voices to their face but not working out so well. They told me their user ids and I knew who they were.

I saw my old lawyer walk in with clients of his own now and he did a double take at me. "You in trouble?" He asked. I pull my jacket out and let him see the police emblem. I haven't seen him in years so he doesn't know where I work. "Ahh, I see. "

I wanted to go against him, I hate him, he's a jerk and I was in serious wanting to play some hardball. But he wasn't representing the people in my case so I'd have to wait. He's good to my parents but we never saw eye to eye and if I ever had to get representation I'd get one of his associates. He has a good firm, an impressive one but I don't like the way he handled a case of mine years ago.

It was time to go so we all went to go down the elevator but there was a ton of us so half of us voted to take the stairs. Woo. The fire inspectors went down in one with the Crown while Grumps, me and the two officers went down the stairs. We went to the court room and the officers got to walk around the metal detector while Grumps had to go through it. Ding Ding, he sets it off. The second sheriff sees that I'm wearing the police emblem so I get to walk around to. I'm trying not to laugh as poor Grumps has to get wanded. Belt comes off. he goes through, grumbling in typical Grump fashion. One of the officers, JS is standing there with a not too sure face, "I think we're in the wrong court." Sure enough officer SC goes to the docket and nope, Court Room 5. So we rush out and down the stairs again. Get to court room five and SC and JS go around the metal detector. This time I'm first and i empty my pockets and walk through. Fine. Grumps goes through, DING DING DING! Ha, ha. I do laugh at him this time as he gets wanded again. Unknown what set it off this time but the boys were laughing at him saying that he'd have to get strip searched. Grumps was not happy about that, being let in because of where he worked, putting his belt back on and standing next to me grumbling. We went in the court room and started that.

Court was adjourned until September, sigh, I so wanted to go up this time around, oh well ... I'm sure I'll get more before September ... though Sept is my birthday month. Maybe I'll get lucky. Grumps drove me home but not before cursing and yelling at the gate that really didn't want to open for him. I'll miss Dispatcher Grumpy.

Day off 3, was good, got some groceries mainly and am scoping out some five finger vibram shoes. I like the Bikila ones best. Now came the hard part ... measuring my damn feet. They are big. Sigh. Curse you father ... you and your genes! He'd tell me they were good you know more stability, clearly he's never heard the bigger they are the harder they fall. It's so hard to find shoes and sneakers and god forbid heels. I always think people are looking at my feet, clown feet, Sigh. Why me? Why couldn't I have ... big ... teeth or something. No. Feet. Sigh. So I tried putting a measuring tape by them and that didn't work. Tried to put a ruler by it, nope. Ended up sticking my foot on a piece of paper, ticking it off and then measuring it. ...... 10 inches long and 3 inches wide. Clown feet. Sigh. My dirty minded friend, who shall remain nameless, said her normally saying, 'I want one that long.' Really? I told her that's why she'd never be married, she had too high of standards however I will never be married because some how I always knee them in the crotch while making out. The last time though, not my fault, he moved into it. Not going there. End of discussion. Anyways ... looking on the website, KO provided I checked up the their measurements and YAY! I'd fit into the biggest ones ... story of my life ... anyways it's all good. Give a half inch to the length of my feet so that the shoes would fit comfortably and I'll be good to roll... or run in this case. I'm going to wait until the summer because I'm trying to lose a few more pounds before I start running again. Lost 10 this month so happy about that. For me it's not so much what I eat but how much I exercise. I eat pretty good, I'll never be in a 'healthy living' magazine but it's not bad bad. Mostly steamed veggies, chicken, fish and the occasional red meat. What gets me is my sweets. I like chocolate and mini eggs. I got to get exercising again I just have to be careful not to piss off my crohns or fistula. Right now the most I can do is thirty minutes of leisurely walking. I'm almost healed though. I'll be able to walk all day and run again. I can feel it. I figure by the time summer comes around I'll be there. Can't wait. This girl wants to run, wants to lose about 130 lbs. Coming off the meds I'm on, moving more and monitoring my sugar like I'm doing, it'll happen. It'll take time but I'm nothing if not persistent.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Busy days and FireFighter Sims Video

Baptism by fire. First cycle as full time and doing the 12 hours, something that the body has to get used to, preferably slow. But do I I have that kind of luck? First 2 days are dayshifts and we have severe snow storms the first day, two separate weather events. Second day is dealing with all the stupid accidents from people who thought, since the roads 'looked' good, lets drive like it's August! Grumble grumble. My next two night shifts are Friday and Saturday with good weather, going to be nutso gonzo. I'll be dragging my ass home Sunday and sleeping until Monday. Next week I switch to 3 so I'll be early in the week rotation. I'm just one week rotation too late. So it was a long an early start and I had to repeat a lot of questions. There is nothing more annoying then asking a question and getting an unrelated answer. Most of the afternoon was like this ...

Me: Do you have an emergency you dialed 911?
OTL: Do you know where Patricia is?
Me: Who?
OTL: Patricia.
Me: Is she an officer?
OTL: Oh god I hope not ... I let her eat off my plate.
Me: *Withholding all remarks, painful but doable* Okay well do you have an emergency?
OTL: I called Patricia.
Me: No you dialed 911
OTL: Patricia. Do you know where she is? I called her?
Me: No you didn't, you called 911.
OTL: Do you know where my friend is?
Me: Nope. I need to confirm this ... so do you have an emergency?
OTL: I have a friend named Patricia.
Me: *headdesk* Deals with Out To Lunch for ten minutes.

Come home tired, so many gruesome suicides these last few days for some reason. I can't understand why some people, if they are going to do that, why they leave it for their family to find. Really? Do you really want your kids to see your blood and guts everywhere? I don't know how people do it to their family, never the less the emergency workers. Like we enjoy listening to your son scream your name or your sister beg for you to live. When the only thing they can tell you is 'oh my ... there's so much blood'. Somebody has to take a report, take pictures and clean it up. I've had calls where people have blown their brains out and their spouse could not physically leave them, just whispering 'please don't be dead, please don't leave me'. They had to be moved by members on scene just for them to come back to reality. I don't know, I'm not promoting suicide but at least think of your family too.

On a less depressing note, I found a neighbor of mine wondering the hallways looking for boxes to put her stuffed bears in. She's not completely all there but she's 80 something and harmless. She's the funny crazy not the dangerous kind. I brought her into my apartment because I had boxes and she spent the entire time patting Lee on his head singing, 'what's new, pussycat, whoa whoa.'

Oh I made this video from a game I play called Sims and added it to the blog. I'll admit ... sheepishly, regrettably ... I am addicted to the stupid thing. I loves it! I can play it for hours. I can play it if my whole apartment is on fire! I made it because a coworkers husband is a firefighter and I wanted to show her the firefighter stuff in the game. I put music to it because for some reason the sound cut out. It's sum 41 and it's old. I know. I'm sorry. By the time I hear a song and go 'hey I like that' it's a few years old. I don't listen to the radio, I don't have tv. I live under a rock. And I like my rock.

More plans for the summer too. My treatment is going well and hopefully I'll be fully if not almost healed by then. I've been told it'll take about a year. Feel like 85% better. I want to start running again in the summer. Stoked. I always enjoyed running though I was never so good in the distance part. I ran a bit through high school, mostly just with my dog around my block and a bit in Junior High. I was sick for some of those years too. Damn crohns got me when I was 14. Even in elementary my favourite thing in gym was to run! We used to have to run all around the edge of the gym, sometimes we'd skip (hated that) sometimes we'd have to do other things. My favourite thing was to run! It was fun. I'd pretend the people behind me were chasing me. I don't know why I remember ... maybe cause it was only ... 15 years ago. Ahh grade 3. Sooo off topic. I am looking at getting Vibram FiveFingers, but I have big feet so I don't know if I can get them in my size.

Anyway it's late, I'm exhausted. Going to crash under my rock.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Socks,Fulltime and 911

Where are all my socks? Question of the day and one I have so many times. I have tons of socks but I can never find them. Whenever I do laundry I know I have to go hunting for them. They wind up in the strangest of places, behind the toilet, under the hutch, under the couch, in corners and one was even still in my sneaker. Between my cat and I, they go all over the place. I personally hate socks, I do. I hate them and sneakers and all kinds of footwear. When I come home they both come off, and I kick them somewhere. Sometimes they stay where they land, other times my cat will take them, play with it and then hide it for safe keeping.

I'm officially full time now, woo, essentially all that is required of me is to work 3 more hours per shift and I can be ordered in to work. Meh, between all the overtime and volun-told, it's not a big switch. What will be a bonus is now I am paying into the pension, get extra money on overtime, get paid vacations (2 sets of 12 to start) and the big end of year check. WOO, the money has me sold. The biggest thing will mean me changing my Squad (going from 1 to 3), which is a bit sad but it's probably for the best. Most people on my Squad are good there has just been a few that have really pulled down the morale of the group so I'm kinda glad to be leaving them, just not my friends. Dispatcher Grumpy even said he would miss me, and sent me an email to that affect. Going to miss Grumps too ... all the new curse words I learned from him, him walking behind my chair and messing up my hair, and how he'd always get me a cookie on one of the night shifts. :( Also the retired FireChief, will miss him too. He's a funny old guy, doesn't have a 100% grasp on the the calltaking thing but man if you have a fire question he is all over that. He was also a good reference for my book when and where I wanted to burn/blow up things. Essentially I just had to tell him what I'd want to accomplish and he'd work out a way for me to do it. Like Sterno is now in the toolbox of my assassin (Book character).

My last night shift was my second 12 hour night but the first on that watch, (i mostly did OT on days). Near the end of shift and officer called up.
Officer CB: So ... you survived the night.
Me: Who have you been talking to?
Officer CB: Have my sources ... so you're still awake.
Me: Not unless this is a dream ... and if it's a dream I'd like a hot firefighter please.
Officer CB: Firefighter eh?
Me: Yeah I got to start using my calender I got.
Officer CB: They have calenders?
Me: Yeah ... nice ones. Hot stuff.
Officer CB: They are fire fighters ... they're supposed to be hot.
Me: Never knew you swung that way.
Officer CB: What! No! No! I mean ... no! no! They around fire you know ... hot!
Me: Uh huh ... sure. You call to speak to your dispatcher or something. (figure I'd bail him out)
Officer CB: ...actually I just called to harass you.
Me: Oh really? I think I won.
Officer CB: This time gadget.

Me: 911. What is your emergency?
Old man: Is the power out?
Me: Excuse me?
Old man: Is the power out?
Me: You called 911 for this?
Old man: I have a lot of food in the freezer ... it's an emergency if I lose that?
Me: Flick your light.
Old man: You mean the light switch?
I actually had to go back and play the tap here because you can hear me chuckle under my breath, and not a 'ha ha you're funny' chuckle but an 'oh my god you idiot' chuckle.
Me: Uh, yeah
Old man: I'm still in the dark.
Me: Oh yeah. I figured that. (Catches sarcastic remark has escaped, trys to smooth that over) So that means the power is out.
Old man: That's not good. What about the food in my freezer?
Me: It should stay frozen for a bit, but really Sir, not my concern. This is 911 and we cannot tie up and emergency line for unfreezing food. Sorry we just can't and if you call here again for this very reason I am so going to send an officer to your house and issue you a ticket for misusing 911. Do you understand? (Might seem harsh but he had already called once, warned, and it was almost four in the morning).
Old man: Yes.
Me: Good, confirming your phone number is (secret phone number).
Old man: Yes.
Me: Alright. Good night. And remember don't call 911 for this reason.
Old man could be heard muttering as he hung up the phone. Old man: My poor butterball.
I'm really hoping he was talking about a turkey.

Me: 911 what is your Emergency?
Crazy Girl: Can you send back the officer please?
Me: Which one?
Crazy Girl: The really cute one please.
Me: Well that narrows it down. (can you tell I'm getting tired?)
Crazy Girl: He had nice blue eyes, black hair, cute nose and a really nice butt. He checked my soup for poison and it's clear. He's such a nice man. I just need him to check my water please. I am thirsty. Really thirsty.
Me: Ohhh okkkayyy. What address did we attend to so I can find the call?
Crazy Girl: I can't tell you ... they might overhear and well then the ships sunk now isn't it.

It didn't really get any better from there. I did find the officer and he gave her a call instead. Smoothed things over and she went to bed. He called me later and I gave him her description of him. I never knew you could hear someone blush over the phone.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Training day blues

Training has been a bit rough, when I say rough, I mean I've never actually felt like crying before because I was so bored. I really didn't need someone to tell me how to find a screen on the computer that I have minimized or how to enter in an address. Seriously? If I didn't know how to do half of the things they were showing us, I'd be fired. It was all refresher but really? It was punishment. I don't know what I did yet but damn it must have been something awful.

3 out of the 5 in the class were from Hub Town so we took them on a tour for our centre. Out of everything they liked the fact that we each had a ceiling light that we controlled, so if we wanted it off, it would be off or on the brightest possible. Our Operations Manager was in there today and was in a good mood, which means 100% sarcasm can be expected. This wasn't my squad today, mine work tonight, just where I had to take the training during the day it was a bit funky. One of the Hub Town people's asked why there was an officer inside and I simply replied. "He lives here. We fed him once and now he won't leave." She gave the impression like she believed me, just nodding her head. So I added. 'I'm just glad he's housebroken. That and he keeps the crazies away." Now she just shook her head and pointed her finger at me.

The OM decided he wanted to play too, he added that officers weren't normally allowed on the floor. Again the HubTown girl seemed to believe him, he can act so serious and realistic when he's bullshitting you. Sometimes you really don't know when he's joking or not. Of course the girl asks why. The OM said with a straight face. "Because, they keep stealing our women when we let them in." Which ... I dunno ... we only have 3 .. 5 or so that are married to cops. Well I can only think of 5 married to our boys and four are married to fire fighters. The other girl from Crazytown with me couldn't argue, her husband was the Sergeant!

Of course we had 'lovely' training devices. They played an audio file of a call taker using the language line and how it worked. It was only a reenactment but you had a woman underneath the bed whispering and the call taker keeps asking her louder and louder 'MAME CALM DOWN!' Was kinda of funny. Highlight of training.

The other girl from Crazytown who was with me, we do not get along but we try to act civilly. I brought my own lunch from home both days just because I don't really trust catered or new food all that much. It's just not worth having a reaction over, possible hospitalization, steroids, surgery and 6 weeks off work. Not for melon. However she kept at me both days to just have a little of the food. Uh ... no? Melon or possible hospital? She didn't get it though. Yeah the melon probably wouldn't have hurt me but right now I'm not willing to risk new foods.

Had lovely weather for walking home. Rain, then hail then a big gust o' wind. So far the day wasn't exactly great so I had to perk it up a bit. Chinese. :) Chow mein, something I have had for many many years as an 'ahhhh' food.

Wrapped up in a blanket, writing my book and having some Fresca. Cat is on my feet, got some tunes and a pillow calling my name. Life does not get much better.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Goodbye and Goodluck

I had a lot of fun doing the dinner party up and I looked forward to seeing everyone. I spent the morning cleaning and the afternoon cooking. The beef wellington came out perfect, which was great cause the slab of meat cost about 36$. Very nice and tasty cut though. Made some chicken soup to start, where the carrot was a no go, too ... yucky (tried it the week before). Then had a salad and then the main course. People were stuffed, which was a good sign, ushered them into the living room, had the fire place (fake) going and some candles on. Settled them in and got them some coffee and desserts. Banana bread and pumpkin roll was a hit, didn't have time to make the dumplings. It was very good but like how I found most things in life are ... it doesn't last. I thought I had escaped it this time, I had hugged my dad goodbye, both my brothers and then it was just me and my mom and her boyfriend (he's sweet). We chatted for a little bit but I knew something was up. She had bought me a little wolverine lunch box for my kid bin. I've got this huge tupperwear bin thing that I house little things I want to give to my kids, whenever I have them. Like jean lookin kinda diapers, how cool is that? They might not have them when I have my kids. Anyways, I thought it was cool, cause wolverine is my thing, I collect a lot of the stuff, but that wasn't it. She hadn't let me touch it most of the night and I figured that was her playing keep away, like she likes to do.

When she held onto it this time, there was something in her eyes. She touched Bill, (her boyfriend)she touched his leg and then looked at me. She was crying and still holding the lunchbox. Now I'm worried. If the strongest woman I know is crying ... that's enough to make me cry right there. I simply said to her. "Tell me."

She said that I had asked her to tell me when I was home. And then I knew. My dog was gone. I had a shepherd mix growing up, called Sheba. She was my dog. She was the most awesome dog ever. Never really liked anyone out the family that much but she was so sweet to us.

Growing up we were told we would never get another dog. We had one before but I don't remember that well, I was too little. My BroBro and me always went into the pet store in the mall because we liked to look at the animals. This day they had the shepherd/Keeshond/lab puppies. They looked like straight up sheherds with curly tails, we loved them. We loved them sooo much. Mom went looking to find us but always knew where we were. She looked to me, to my BroBro and then the dogs and said No Way. She herded us out of the store and we eventually went home. All the way home we talked about the dog, how we wanted one, how cute they were and the millions promises to take care of it. My father was away for a few months during this time, he came home a bit but worked most of it. There had been a serious multi agency disaster that he had to be on site for. She called him because we kept at her long enough. His words. "No. Don't you ..." Which lead to "....fine." We drove all the way back to the mall which is in another city and went right back to the pet shop. Our hands on the glass windows we looked over each of the little bundles, knowing one would be ours. I had been 11 at the time and my brother was 13, but we acted like 5 year olds giggling and laughing, the dogs had their paws up on the glass looking right back at us. They all were running around, like they knew it too. All except for one. One was curled up in the corner and had her back to everyone. She didn't want to play with them and didn't want to see us.

The store clerk told us that the puppies had been abandoned and all of them had been rescued during a storm. We determined that one was bitter about it, probably didn't trust people and wouldn't come to see us. It was the first time I heard this quote, it was something along the lines of "Those who are the hardest to love are the ones who need it most". That dog needed us. It needed to be loved. We wanted her. The clerk asked us if we were sure and said she'd bring it out just in case. She brought it out and the dog didn't look at us. She looked away and was shaking. I held her, this little fur ball that shook like she was crumbling. We spoke softly to her, and patted her. This was the dog for us. She wouldn't walk on the leash, well ...she wouldn't walk at all. We were advised to give her a choke chain for her as she'd be a big dog. We did and it has ALWAYS been very loose on her. It was her bling, her necklace. She hated any collar we put on her so she'd always just have the chain. She squatted her butt down and wouldn't move. So we picked her up again and carried her to our van. Of course between two kids she had to sit in between us. She was very scared in the van, she didn't like it and whined. We took her home and let her see it as hers too.

Over time she softened up and began to run around foolishly and to bark and play. She would run to greet us and lick our faces. She never trusted people who came to the door and would bark at them to protect her turf. I remember when I was home alone, which didn't happen a lot at that age. I had an overactive imagination and before long I envisioned terrible things happening. I was afraid of the house burning down or that someone might break in. Sheba and I sat in the middle of the living room, I had a bag packed just in case I had to run out the door. She never let me though I'm sure she was confused as to what I was afraid of. She spent almost every night on my bed and managed to push me into the crack between the bed and the wall a few times.

I have a memory of waking up to the sound of her growling. I was afraid cause I could see her head, her teeth, she was snarling and the hackles were raised. I looked up at the door and my mother had just closed it behind her. Sheba stopped growling but watched the door for as long as I could remember before I fell asleep. I asked my mom what she was doing the next day and she told me she was just putting one of my shirts back into the room. She had decided against it when Sheba growled. I felt very safe from then on, knowing that if anyone ever did break into our house and tried to come in my room, she would protect me.

These were the memories that came back to me in a flash. I almost couldn't hear my mother talking tonight. I knew Sheba had bad hips, that things were getting harder for her. She was peeing in her sleep and a hard time getting up. Today, this morning she couldn't get up at all. She was in pain. When my dad tried to help her up she tried to bite him. All of her hurt. Sheba was 12 almost 13 years old. Today was the last day she was going to suffer. Mom and dad got her in the car, and they took her to the vet. They said it was very peaceful, and I have to believe that.

As I opened up the lunchbox, her chain was coiled at the bottom. I cried. They soon left and I was alone with it. My cat, Lee, sat on my lap and I patted him for awhile. Then I drank a lot of wine while cleaning the dishes going over the memories.

She was a good dog. She was my best friend growing up. I told her all my secrets, my dreams and my confessions. Good luck girl. Goodbye and good luck.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Training and trashing the place

My BroBro came over tonight, which was a great idea on days off ... not so much tonight. Found out that I have to come in early tomorrow for a 6 hr training exercise, lovely 4:30 start time just means an early night tonight. Glad the last Monday is under my belt, I do not like them and they do not like me. It's been accepted. Got called into the Assistant Manager's office right off the bat, and I'm freaking out slightly in my head because on days off I dreamt that this had happened and she threw 2 cycles worth of calls on her desk and said not acceptable then tossed me outside into a snowbank. Thank goodness all she wanted to say was that I forgot to submit my payslip, (again, whoops!) and to do that first thing. Right away! Just don't toss me in a snowbank, I uh ... had to explain that to her.

Two feet from her office my supervisor, JP called me in to his office and shut the door. I believe Mama Fargo said it best in her post, http://mommafargo.blogspot.com/2011/01/its-just-words.html 'Fuck me in the ass!' aragh. That is actually a saying up here as well. This was not starting out great. Turns out he just wanted to ask me how I was, cause apparently I was upset looking when I left last night shift, that were his words. He wanted to make sure I was ok. I was fine, just the office politics get to me some nights more then others. All good.

Well ... I broke four things today, sigh. I was harassing/playing with Dispatcher Grumpy, poking him, pushing the movable light around his desk and then I leaned against the half wall. No sooner had I done that, a loose half wall panel fell off and broke onto the floor. "Whoops."
Thrown out of the pod, yet again. Broke my computer, my pencil (right in half) and my shoe lace.
We had this call about a cat. It was sad. I hated the human race that moment. This ... can't even call her woman, this female human like life form, had been evicted and moved out of her apartment. She left behind her cat inside a carrier. When the maintenance people came in to change the locks, they found the cat screaming. There was blood in the carrier underneath it, it's face was bloodied and I could hear it over the phone. She hadn't been there in days, maybe a week. It was starving, sitting in shit and injured. That human like life form is lucky it wasn't dead. Or there would be one pissed off call taker on a rampage. I couldn't do anything but I'd rampage. I hate violence/neglect/sexual assault on animals and children, god those break my heart. We had a sexAssault case on a cat last year ... I wanted to sooooo do something more then curse under my breath.

Onto different news I have training next cycle as well ... yey ... sorta. It's 2 days of sitting in a room for our 911 refresher training. It's going to be painful. The 911 training was painful, like you're looking at your pencil wondering how much it would hurt to shove that in your eyes. The refresher is going to be so boring. Another call taker was trying to make me see the good in it, at least it's 2 days you don't have to be here. 1, I like here, 2, it's 911 training! 3, god I'd rather take a robi! At least then I know I won't fall on my pencil and skewer my eye 'accidentally'.
All good all good. I was making my breakfast and lunch for tomorrow and my brother laughed at me. I put them in two reusable lunch bags that I got free from subway. I don't know if he was laughing at my breakfast or that fact that I kept it separate from my lunch. They're two different meals, two different bags. Breakfast, banana, half baggy full of cheerios and a half peanut butter sandwich (1 piece folded in half).

Got to go, it's late and it's a long day tomorrow

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Well endowed snowman and future plans

Last night shift was filled with people getting on each others nerves so I bunkered down and tried to wait out the storm. We have a good group of people working but up in dispatch we're mostly women and I think some how they all start PMSing at the same time. It's chaos. If there were weapons we'd all be dead. One dispatcher has the ability to snap at someone beside her, turn in 1 second to be sweet on the radio and then snap back and continue yelling at the other peson. It's talent, the voice is like a roller coaster going up and down so fast. I'd laugh but uh ... the lying low part.

The night sort of goes like that too, we'll all be laughing and then the next second someone is trying to murder the other with their eyes. Poor, poor Fire Dispatcher, retired FireChief, he's one of two guys on our shift and he's hiding in the fire pod. The other guy is Dispatcher Grumpy and he can fling shit with the best of them.

On one particular leveling out of the hormones, we had a funny call that had two of them in tears laughing. Turns out somone was getting creative out there in that fresh batch of snow. In the midst of this 'snow storm' (right) someone built a snow man with some man parts. Hee. The officers who went said it was a six foot penis. HA! The people even coloured it pink and had branches for hair. Oh god that was creative. But it had to be be smashed cause it was causing a disturbance. The person who made it said the guy who called it in was just suffering from penis envy.

Of course, someone, somehow goes and gets a picture of it before it is ... disassembled(can't say how in case someone from my ... management comes across the blog and goes after that person). That caused another laughing spree up in dispatch and a few giggles to come across the air. I had to double check the address cause my first thought was, damn BroBro this ain't the RedNeck Town where you can get away with it.

Alas what goes up, goes down. I took a call about a manhole cover that had lost it's lid and a 11 year old kid fell in it but thankfully was caught before he went too far. Ouch, so I got a hold of the city to go fix it. Sure they'll go right out. Cool. All done. Was not to be. They called back and said it was a private road and they'd have no part of it. What? Your kiddin? Ok. Plan B. Only other person would be the housing authority, by popular request of my podmates. I give them a call no answer. I am lost now because we have no one else to go. I put in a police call cause hey maybe we can find the damn thing or put cones around it so that nobody else falls in while we're looking for someone to call. I know the dispatcher it's going to is ... well, let's just say she's opinionated and overheating. I call our Watch Commander, someone who is in charge of the entire police force for Crazy town and I ask him what he thinks. He's a nice guy and says to enter a call and have a member look for it, makes me feel better cause that's what I was thinking. Well no sooner then I me putting down the phone did that Dispatcher have a fit. She demanded me to tell her why police would be going. "Uh? City won't respond, no answer at the housing authority and the Staff Sergeant agreed with me putting a call in." Thank god I called him so I'd have something to back me up at least, this guy would do. He wouldn't change his decision just because it was unpopular, I admire that about him. She again demanded, at a loud voice just exactly what I wanted police to do? Starring at her blankly I look back down to my call and read verbatim what I had written. She again stated that this wasn't a police call. I admitted it wasn't our normal function but an 11 year old barely avoided serious injury if not death, those things are deep. Her only response was that would be the city's fault. I am fortunate enough to know when there are words building up inside that could get me in trouble so I held most of them back. I simply told her the Watch Commander also thought this was appropriate and sat down. I wasn't fighting with her anymore, if she didn't like it she could take it up with him. She never did and an officer was sent. The lid was broken in half. Calls were made, the city decided they would go out anyways because of the potential for danger. It wasn't what I needed that night, my head was killing me.

Sometimes I feel in that place there is a constant demand for you to explain yourself and every single action that you do. I don't mind giving my reasons but there comes a point where if we are going to work together you have to trust me. You have to trust that I can make a right decision. My age has come up a lot. I started there when I was 20 and now I'm only 23 and the youngest by about a decade, most of them are late forties and have been doing the job a long time. I don't know, I can only keep telling myself, do a good job, do good work and they'll eventually trust me or retire. Either way, problem solved.

I'm having a dinner party on the 22 and am super stoked for that. Making carrot soup, salad, beef wellington, stuffed double baked potatoes, steamed broccoli and carrots. For desert pumpkin roll, banana bread and apple dumplings. A lot of work but it will be good to see the family again.

Also plans on getting a house soon. Sooner then I had first thought. My mother is building a duplex out in Crazy town but essentially it will be two 2 level houses stuck together. I'd get one and she'd get the other. We've been going over designs and got it tweaked just right. The next choice is do I want to pay rent of 1000$ a month or pay a mortgage and own my side? We're going to talk to the bank to see what's best and what we can do. I have good credit and have had loans before. So getting a vehicle this summer and might be in a house by December. Exciting stuff. When I get a house I am getting 2 dogs, not at the same time, but one will be for sure a German Shepard, maybe 2 of them.

Well that's all for now, on days off, which is a welcome break.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Monday dayshift fun

Not a bad day at all today, second day shift, minus the fact it was a Monday day which can make it crazy. Everyone and their dog calls in. For ever 10 calls we get, about 1 goes in so when our queues start filling up it means we are flat out on the phone. Joked with an officer about whether I was going to log him off or not, when he asked I just said. "hmmmmm nope." Threw him for a loop which was fun. However he will mail me a muffin and come in for my shift tomorrow if I would so I did. I am expecting my muffin lol though I won't hold my breath. I came in early for a shift today and I was logging a member on, I knew he was tired and I was feeling particularly mischievous.

Officer: Can you log me on?
Me: No.
Officer: Can I go home then?
Me: Nope.
Officer: Oh ... can I ... hmm ...
Me: Nope.
Officer: You're mean. Did you get your coffee?
Me: Going to tell the Sargeant on me? Big bad call taker won't log you on?
Officer: I might, he's cranky too, he'll get you.
Me: Threat! Threat! Taped line.
Officer: Crap. Can't prove a thing.
Me: Taped line.
Officer: Crap
Me: Totally.
Officer: What if ... I say please?
Me: Works for me!
Officer: Miss calltaker up there in the sky, can you please log this tired officer so he can protect the stupid public from their own stupid mistakes?
Me: Aww ... miss calltaker ... hee. Sure. Officer number?
Officer: 12345
Me: Unit number
Officer: UnitCoolcar
Me: Phone number?
Officer: 333-3333
Me: Portable number?
Officer: T111
Me: Credit card number?
Officer: 345 ... hey! You are mean!
Me: Can't blame a girl for trying.

Had a little bit more fun with him and sent him on his way. I have no idea what the officers will face in a day so try to make them laugh when I can. If nothing else I will be the 1 friendly voice they call. I don't know what was in the air today I had a streak for mischief. Moving cups around, hiding books, moving stools and I took the straps off a guys back rest. He's a funny older guy and he looks at me and says. "One of these days you are going to piss a guy off and he is going to marry you."

"What???? But then he'll leave the toilet seat up! And get cooties everywhere. And ... and then he'd have to live with me." I remembered the line from the Home Alone movie, "When I grow up and get married, I'm living alone!"

He shakes his head and throws a chocolate at me. At least now I know where they were coming from all this time.

Few frustrating calls but mostly good ones. Oh and Kennyo your shift didn't want to work my first day eh? Thanks for trying. Good day all in all. Lots of laughs, and lots of pranks that no one will ever know who did them ... hee.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Phobia 1 Kat 0

I have to get a 2 hr infusion every 2 months, which really isn't bad when it enables me to be pain free and have the ability to walk. The only thing is my phobia can't seem to get a grip of that. I have this major fear of needles that you would think would go away with 50+ easily last year. Nope, worse then ever. It's not even that 2-3 second prick, it's the entire thing. About a week before it's time I have trouble sleeping, frequent nightmares and progressively stopping eating until the day of I've not eaten at all. I force myself to be well hydrated, 4 litres the day before, 2 the day of. Slight glitch this time around, the last time I was in the hospital they killed my good vein. I mean it's dead. Not coming back. It's time of death is etched out on my knuckle, alongside RIP, you will be missed.

This morning I see that every vein in my hands read the memo the body sent out, beginning last week. They know it's coming and promptly buried themselves so that no one can get them and hopes that the prick can't find them. I start to freak out slightly, I say slightly because outside I calm however inside I am waiving my arms, running in circles, screaming and doing the hokey pokey. I get the idea to put gloves on, will keep it warm. So I go first to put on my emla cream. I've been used to the patches and this is my first time with cream. I dump a whole crap load on, and spread it evenly, then put on the little clear bandage wrap thingy I got from the hospital. It's stays but I become worried it might fall off so I put scotch tape all around it. Feeling good. Then I wonder if they might want to use the other hand, I wouldn't have time to prep it as the Emla takes an hour. So I do the second hand too but I run out of scotch tape ... I found packaging tape and wrapped my hand. Now my hand won't open, oh well, still got one good hand. Both hands have gloves on them, cool ... but what if the veins wont come up? What if this wasn't warm enough? I text Jacks ... 'help me!!!!!!!!!!! code red! veins have gone awol!' Her suggestion was a magic bag to warm them up but I dont's have one. They might have had one at the clinic but would they want to wait to heat my hands up? But, but, I have rice!

I go to the cupboard ... no rice. Ah! Text my dad, do you have rice? Do you have a magic bag?
He wasn't in Crazy Town today ... dammmmmnnn. Okay ... corn nibblets in a baggy ... yeah. Fill two baggies full of corn and tossed them in the microwave. Heat them up and stick them on the back of my hands. Feeling proud of myself a moment ... then I realize, how am I going to keep these on? I was just about out of packing tape too .... Mittens! I go and grab mittens and put them over top, so now they are holding the corn baggies on.

Call a cab, very hard by the way, I don't recommend it with this handwear. I go to Subway first to see my BroBro as it is right next to where I have to get my infusion. I get a sandwich and drink , then I realize .... I can't open my fresca! :( Good BroBro, he opens it for me, my hands are like pincers. Sandwich also hard to eat but manageable. My bro reheats my corn in his microwave and I stuff them back in my mitts.

I walk into the clinic and sit in the big comfy chair, the nurse at first was happy and said, 'you wearing mittens? It's plus degrees out there?" I explained the contents of my mittens and she shakes her head. "Why scotch tape and packing tape?

"I couldn't find the duct tape."

"I take it you have a slight phobia of needles?"

"Slight ... I keep having to remind myself I'm not going to die."

"You look so calm."

"It's a gift. Calm on the outside, freaking out in chaos on the inside." It's amazing, I can handle robberies, suicides, homicides, seen dead bodies splattered about or decomposing but a little needle, nope, no go. Once she unpackaged me she pricked the needle in, my veins were up!!!!!!! And I was on my way.

P.S. I thought I kicked the phobias ass, alas it was not to be. Needle was taken out and there was a heat blister on my hand and both were numb for hours. I bend my hands back at the wrist, going towards me, and it felt like I had beanbags on the back. Oh and they were swollen, and I had these imprints from the tape ... and a heck of a bruise. My mom said afterwards, at least you didn't pass out again. I fail to see how that is a plus ... last time I passed out when I woke up the IV was in and it was all done. I figured that was pretty easy and painless for both of us. Okay ... phobia 1, Kat 0.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

A good end to a not so pleasant start

Third day off my brother was in a car accident, where his veh was badly damaged and the other was a write off. Both drivers went to the hospital on their own. My brobro is okay, bit of whiplash and lower back pain. Apparently when the officer came on scene, the first thing he said to him was

BroBro: Do you know Kat Rhett? She works in Dispatch.
Officer DP: Uh ... yes. (he's not my watch now but I worked every watch for almost a year so I know most of the guys at least by name)
BroBro: Don't tell her.

He later called me while he was driving his car to the hospital while it was all busted up. I walked down and met him there. We spent most of the day there and we had this talk. I want to say it was talk that wasn't like our normal ones. He's always the jokester, it's where I learned from but he is the king. Now he was serious and we had a good talk about how short life is. I told him that we die when we are supposed to and not before.

4th day off, I was at my computer, my cat, Lee, was asleep on the second bed. I go into the kitchen to start supper and not five minutes later I hear him scream. I mean it sounds equal to someone taking his leg and snapping it in half. I run to him of course but he is hissing, rolling on his back and still screaming. I call the emerg vet and they say to bring him. He starts crying and rubbing my leg, almost like he's begging me make the pain stop. I didn't know what was wrong with him, I checked him over, no blood or anything. I was scared out of my mind, he is like my kid. I rush him to the vet, via taxi and they take him. While we're waiting in the office, out of the waiting room, I am holding him and he is shivering. I'm near tears at this point, just holding him and trying to sooth him. The vet checks him over and figures he has a bladder infection but that I'd have to collect his urine to be sure. She didn't know why it hit him so fast and hard. I took him home because he was so stressed. He calmed down and I had to force feed him pills. Owner of the year award, right here! He seems better today and they ran the tests on his urine, an infection so his pills will help him. One to get the infection, the other for pain. The bastard is pretty good at not taking his pills. I even put them in shrimp and he eats around it. I essentially have to sit on him, crane back his head, pry his mouth open, shoot them down, and close his mouth with head up so he doesn't spit them back out. He was getting pretty good at it this morning. He could even shoot them back into my hand. Talented bastard. I didn't think it would take me 40 mins to get him 2 pills so I was late for work, didn't get my breakfast didn't sleep well, still had my headache and shakes and now my neck was killing me. I was in a super mood.

Ended up eating my lunch for breakfast so when my lunch time came around there was nothing. It was all good because my dad ran out to take my cat's bottled pee to the vet so they could test it so there wasn't time to eat. My stars though when I came back after lunch the officers had brought up this ham dinner. I was confused, since the one who brought it up couldn't cook ... at all, i mean toast is like as far as he goes. Turns out it was a hotel restaurant chainy thing, Ramda Inn or something that donated it. Cool! We had two tables of officers on the dispatch floor eating this ham dinner with scalloped potatoes, veggies and cheesecake. Of course it was for us too. Score! Lunch!

After lunch our supervisors hands out chocolates donated by a towing company? What why does everyone love us all of a sudden? Are they poison? I was suspicious but not enough to resist one. My podmate was also cranky (in the morning) so we spent the afternoon having a 'bitch session' about things that pissed us off. We both felt better after it and no officers or dispatchers were harmed during it, (can't promise the public). Came home tonight, still full from the ham dinner. Sat on my cat, hurled the pills down his throat and then fed him his supper. I must say I'm developing a technique. Day is winding down and it is far better then what I thought it was going to be. Hey, I don't mind being wrong now and then. :)