So we stopped a girl the other night, check points, oh how the public *loves* those. And she refused to give the officer any of her information. Flat out refused. Great way to start. Officer keeps asking her why and she eventually tells him because she can't find her license. Great. Officer asks her to step out of the car. She does and promptly falls on the ground. Officer asks her if she's ok. Big ole yup. Officer then asks her to get up and she sits up, leaning against her car. At this point we have another member coming just in case this thing turns. The senior member wants her to stand up and starts asking her questions but she can't answer them. Questions like what her name is. When asked why she couldn't her reply, and I quote "I am so fucking drunk I don't hella know. Why are you bothering me?" End quote. Needless to say someone lost their car and got a free tip downtown to the Ironbar Hotel. She was a crier too, cried and yelled all night long, booking officer was thrilled.
Apparently I am jinxed when it comes to equipment. I always seem to sit at the terminal when it's just about to blow up. It's come to the point where the tech knows me by name and when she comes to our center she comes straight to me and ask me what I did. Well today we discovered it is not limited to the terminals, oh no. I was just sitting there minding my own business, talking to a guy about a suspicious person (who turned out to rob the joint) when I felt a pain in my neck and heard a click sound.
Do you know how hard it is not to holler out when you are on a taped line. I could only imagine how that would sound. "So this guy was wearing a black bandanna around his aaahhhh!" I was able to wait until my call was done and to see what had hit me. I can already tell something is wrong with my headset because it feels a lot heavier. Turns out the little clipy thing that connects my headset to my shirt broke, whipped through the air and hit me. Got a big old red spot. Apparently though this does not count as a 'work place injury' and I have to continue to work to get my pay. Sigh. Oh well. With my luck I'll prolly get electrocuted next ...
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Trip to the Hospital, thank you very much Crohns
Alrighty, where do I start ... Crohns sucks, big time. Wednesday afternoon I decided I was going to have baby carrots, may sound innocent enough but my condition means I have to be careful around raw veggies. Some I can have and others can tick off the ole crohns. Well I figured I'd try three , three stupid little stick of carrot wrecked havoc for 4 days! By Wednesday night I was in pain and not sleeping. Thursday I blamed the upset stomach on the heat, it had been sweltering so I tried to take a cold shower. Instant barf and back pain so my dad drove me to work and I watched tv in the A/C. That night I still wasn't feeling any better but tried to sleep it off. To skip the gross parts I will say I spent most of the time worshiping the porcelain god until about 2:30 when I couldn't take it anymore and checked myself into the hospital. I told them all I wanted was for the pain to stop which literately felt like a basketball with knives jutting out, dribbling inside my gut. There was no way I could see my specialist as she books so far in advance and my family doctor, way out in another county is the same. Hospital, only option. *Sighs*. While I was waiting in the waiting room, hunched over and swaying I could see a little boy about five or so walk over to me. He looked at me, tilted his head to the side and just stared. I meant to say what or something to that affect but the only thing that came out was this weird groan. Needless to say, 911 operator/freaky lady scares the shit out of little kids will be the headline for the newspaper. He took off so fast and stayed by his mother the rest of the time. Little punk, lol.
I was taken to the Emerg pretty fast and got to sit in one of their beds and wear their stupid little dress thingys that I hate! I was in too much pain to complain so I just sat there again, hunched over, daring any punk kids to stare at quasi modo. Nurse came took my blood, thankfully I had Emla, which is a little patch that freezes your skin so you don't feel a needle. Works wonders for me because I have a serious phobia of needles. Got a bunch of tests done and their conclusion was my crohns and those god damn carrots gave me a partial obstruction. That guaranteed me a night there. They put an Iv me and by this time I am in no mood to do anything. I'm just sitting there. staring at a wall. Iv in, no problem. Then comes the Morphine, Oh my hell I hate that too. It shoots fire up your back and feels like your body is being sucked into your spine. Well I flopped back and scared the damn nurse. Apparently she was new. She got someone to check on me. I was fine, just very uncomfortable at the moment. My abdominal pain did go away and finally I got to relax for a little. The same nurse came back and put something else in my IV, not sure what that was. Anyways she came back later to check on me and my hand was swelling up, with these blister like things on it. So I scare the same damn nurse again. (So sorry Jacks, I am ruining the mental health of your NS counterpart) She goes off to get the senior nurse again who tells me everything is alright and to go back to sleep. Apparently that was ok for me and I passed out again. It's amazing how accepting you can be in the hospital.
So sleep came off and on for a little while. I'm cranky as the devil on roids and the scared little nurse keeps checking to make sure I'm alive. Whoever you are out there, if you are reading this, please don't quit. You were very nice and told me my nearly swollen eyes and fuzz ball hair didn't look that bad. A liar, but very nice. . The surgeon told me she didn't think surgery was necessary (good cause I wasn't getting it) and that the roids/random drugs would be enough to fix it. But I would have to be admitted over night. Then came the waterworks. I wanted to work the next day, it was the Hurricane I had been waiting all summer for. Okay in my defense, I blame the tears on tiredness, drugs and pain. I was admitted and brought up stairs where I bunked with an elderly woman. Eventually the roids, random drugs and morphine was enough to make the pain all go away. I looked at my roommate briefly she was getting injections into her gut, mine were going in my iv and we both had the same look, there was a silent understanding. Then I passed out again. FYI passing out sucks because you wake up feeling like shit and you don't remember the thought of going to sleep.
Being out like a light for 5 hours or so I woke up at eight that night and we talked. She was funny for an old lady, lol. Turns out she has something twacked out on her back and she needed serious pain meds every 4 hrs to cope. sucky. That night we ended up watching a mystery/murder movie on tv, sitting on our beds, wrapped up in blankets with our lovely 'ice chips and water.' The nurse comes in and scares the shit out of us. It's ok. I figured I had it coming and the ER nurse sent her to get me. We stayed up most of the night, cause come on really, they had to check our vitals every view hours and that would keep us awake for awhile. They'd chat, we'd chat with each other and fall asleep to tv. Ended up getting awake by 5 and having cold showers. I'm talking about glacier water being dumped down.
The rest of the day was spent wondering around the hospital, her hobbling, me walking in my lovely shit hospital dress and Iv pole. The power was out so that meant no tv for us as it reset her subscription when the power came back on. We entertained ourselves and I was curious to where the morgue was. No easy way to find it but we weren't looking that hard. I met my floor doctor person for the first time who was a military doctor working there temporarily for some reason. Didn't matter why, he was freaking hot. Brush cut, ripped and damn those blue eyes. I could stay in there forever. He got a prescription for me for my roids and let me go home. Woo hoo! My roommate said she was glad I came in, apparently she had 5 before me and out of all of them, they were either in so much pain they couldn't talk to her or they died. Oh, glad I was made aware of this.
All and all I am feeling better, exhausted still but better. No pain now. I have learned that Emla is freaking amazing and that the true enemy, is carrots.
P.S. side note. How many officers and a call taker does it take to colour a picture? The answer, 3!
The last night shift before I was colouring with our new crayons in some printed out colouring sheets when two came up behind me. I was trying to figure out what these squiggly little things were on the drawing officers formal uniform was. They were helping me, telling me what they were, the colours, the story. My boss walks by and shakes his head. He said I needed to have police supervision.
I was taken to the Emerg pretty fast and got to sit in one of their beds and wear their stupid little dress thingys that I hate! I was in too much pain to complain so I just sat there again, hunched over, daring any punk kids to stare at quasi modo. Nurse came took my blood, thankfully I had Emla, which is a little patch that freezes your skin so you don't feel a needle. Works wonders for me because I have a serious phobia of needles. Got a bunch of tests done and their conclusion was my crohns and those god damn carrots gave me a partial obstruction. That guaranteed me a night there. They put an Iv me and by this time I am in no mood to do anything. I'm just sitting there. staring at a wall. Iv in, no problem. Then comes the Morphine, Oh my hell I hate that too. It shoots fire up your back and feels like your body is being sucked into your spine. Well I flopped back and scared the damn nurse. Apparently she was new. She got someone to check on me. I was fine, just very uncomfortable at the moment. My abdominal pain did go away and finally I got to relax for a little. The same nurse came back and put something else in my IV, not sure what that was. Anyways she came back later to check on me and my hand was swelling up, with these blister like things on it. So I scare the same damn nurse again. (So sorry Jacks, I am ruining the mental health of your NS counterpart) She goes off to get the senior nurse again who tells me everything is alright and to go back to sleep. Apparently that was ok for me and I passed out again. It's amazing how accepting you can be in the hospital.
So sleep came off and on for a little while. I'm cranky as the devil on roids and the scared little nurse keeps checking to make sure I'm alive. Whoever you are out there, if you are reading this, please don't quit. You were very nice and told me my nearly swollen eyes and fuzz ball hair didn't look that bad. A liar, but very nice. . The surgeon told me she didn't think surgery was necessary (good cause I wasn't getting it) and that the roids/random drugs would be enough to fix it. But I would have to be admitted over night. Then came the waterworks. I wanted to work the next day, it was the Hurricane I had been waiting all summer for. Okay in my defense, I blame the tears on tiredness, drugs and pain. I was admitted and brought up stairs where I bunked with an elderly woman. Eventually the roids, random drugs and morphine was enough to make the pain all go away. I looked at my roommate briefly she was getting injections into her gut, mine were going in my iv and we both had the same look, there was a silent understanding. Then I passed out again. FYI passing out sucks because you wake up feeling like shit and you don't remember the thought of going to sleep.
Being out like a light for 5 hours or so I woke up at eight that night and we talked. She was funny for an old lady, lol. Turns out she has something twacked out on her back and she needed serious pain meds every 4 hrs to cope. sucky. That night we ended up watching a mystery/murder movie on tv, sitting on our beds, wrapped up in blankets with our lovely 'ice chips and water.' The nurse comes in and scares the shit out of us. It's ok. I figured I had it coming and the ER nurse sent her to get me. We stayed up most of the night, cause come on really, they had to check our vitals every view hours and that would keep us awake for awhile. They'd chat, we'd chat with each other and fall asleep to tv. Ended up getting awake by 5 and having cold showers. I'm talking about glacier water being dumped down.
The rest of the day was spent wondering around the hospital, her hobbling, me walking in my lovely shit hospital dress and Iv pole. The power was out so that meant no tv for us as it reset her subscription when the power came back on. We entertained ourselves and I was curious to where the morgue was. No easy way to find it but we weren't looking that hard. I met my floor doctor person for the first time who was a military doctor working there temporarily for some reason. Didn't matter why, he was freaking hot. Brush cut, ripped and damn those blue eyes. I could stay in there forever. He got a prescription for me for my roids and let me go home. Woo hoo! My roommate said she was glad I came in, apparently she had 5 before me and out of all of them, they were either in so much pain they couldn't talk to her or they died. Oh, glad I was made aware of this.
All and all I am feeling better, exhausted still but better. No pain now. I have learned that Emla is freaking amazing and that the true enemy, is carrots.
P.S. side note. How many officers and a call taker does it take to colour a picture? The answer, 3!
The last night shift before I was colouring with our new crayons in some printed out colouring sheets when two came up behind me. I was trying to figure out what these squiggly little things were on the drawing officers formal uniform was. They were helping me, telling me what they were, the colours, the story. My boss walks by and shakes his head. He said I needed to have police supervision.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
The Erratic BOLO
Okay so last night was going by fine, Saturday night in Crazy Town woo! Was doing my thing, 911 and non emergency smoothly, should have known something was coming. I get this call about a black 2 door car that could be driving erratically all over the road, crossing double lines, what have you. Caller was being an idiot though and didn't want to give me the plate, didn't want to tell me what part of this amazing long road it was on, and didn't want to give me the guys name or a better description of the vehicle because it was his brother. He also didn't know when exactly it would be on the road but that his brother would be going out and he always drives like a maniac. Wanted us to 'accidentally' find him. He then hangs up and where it's on my non emerg line I don't really have the ability to trace it. Whatever, what I do is send out a BOLO, which is a typed message that goes on the mdt's to all the cars. Typically when there isn't enough for a call we at least have to do a BOLO, even as a matter of CYA. All I could give was my limited description the area that it might be in and what it was doing. Well wouldn't you know it. My peaceful night went up in smoke and I must have turned five shades or red. This is what I wrote for my BOLO.
"Bolo for a blk 2 door car u/k plate, that anon caller suspects may possibly be driving erotically along LongestRoadPossible St sometime this evening. Driver male, u/k name, u/k desp. Caller unwilling to give more information."
I only knew of my typo when I got easily 30 messages from officers on the road, laughing at me. That and just about everyone on the floor. Sigh, damn fat fingers. At least everyone pays attention to my BOLO's now.
"Bolo for a blk 2 door car u/k plate, that anon caller suspects may possibly be driving erotically along LongestRoadPossible St sometime this evening. Driver male, u/k name, u/k desp. Caller unwilling to give more information."
I only knew of my typo when I got easily 30 messages from officers on the road, laughing at me. That and just about everyone on the floor. Sigh, damn fat fingers. At least everyone pays attention to my BOLO's now.
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