I recently finished reading “Mark Owen’s” book No Easy Day. Tremendous read. I recommend it for everyone. Period.

I knew how the book would end, of course. We all do. It ends with bin Laden getting only a fraction of what he deserved, and the good guys winning.

One of the most poignant messages I got from this book, aside from how awesome America is, was how Mr. Owen made it through his ridiculously tough training.

“Just make it to the next meal” he would tell himself. All he had to do was make it to lunch, or to dinner, or whatever was next. I can’t imagine the mental toughness required to undergo such a grueling experience.

No Easy Day served to reinforce my faith in the military. The brave souls who are willing to die for me, just some schmuck watching Sunday Night Football. They don’t know me from Adam, but are literally willing to sacrifice their lives for me. And you. Those brave men and women deserve so much more than we could ever give them.

Hero isn’t a strong enough word.

I of course knew of the controversy surrounding the book. Frankly, I don’t care.

I don’t care if Mark Owen revealed “secrets.” It didn’t seem that way to me.

I don’t care if bin Laden was “unarmed and not fighting” when he was shot in the face. I don’t care. He deserved to die a horrible, miserable death a million times over.

I don’t care that one of bin Laden’s wives was shot in the raid. She deserved it.

I don’t care that bin Laden’s body was “buried” at sea. It was more dignified than any burial he ever deserved.

My hat is off to you, Mr. Owen, and to every one you serve with, and to every one who wears that beautiful American flag on their military uniform.

God Bless America.

Apparently I missed my blogiversary. My wife brought it up to me a few days ago when she asked how long I had been blogging. I figured it had been about 9 or 10 months. It turns out my first post was on August 20, 2011.

Oops.

But in all seriousness, blogging has saved my career. Let me explain.

Back in May/June of last year, I was in a bad place in my career. I was burned out, fed up, and all sorts of other things. This wonderful field is the only thing I have done serious with my life, though I have had other jobs. I was at a point where I was angry with EMS, and angry at myself for a myriad of other reasons. I was making serious plans to leave EMS.

Since I was a little boy, I have loved law, and wanted to be a lawyer. My mother says I would make a perfect lawyer, as I love to argue. She will tell you that I rarely argue emotionally, but rather I use a rational thought process in an attempt to sway opinions, or to lobby for a later bed time. The law just makes sense to me, and I truly love it. I like how the law continually evolves, and is a living thing. Much like medicine, law is always changing.

I frequently sit up in bed late at night reading court decisions, much to my wife’s chagrin.

So in early June of last year, I sat for the LSAT. I prepared a bit for the exam over a couple of months, mostly while at work in the ambulance. Preparing for the LSAT was a blessing in disguise. It allowed me to focus on something other than EMS work, and gave my mind a much needed distraction. I was able, while focusing on test prep, to fall in love with EMS again. After I sat for the LSAT, I took two weeks off from work to spend some time with my young family, and to evaluate my future.

Somehow I knew I wasn’t going to law school, and I knew I belonged in that ambulance. But I didn’t want to be there.

When my results came back, I was incredibly surprised. 156. While that is not a stunning score, it was better than I expected. Combined with my college GPA, I certainly wasn’t getting into a top-tier law school, but I would easily be accepted to a state law school.

Something clicked in my mind, and in my heart. I know I belong in an ambulance. There is something about this field, something that laypersons don’t understand, but my fellow EMTs and Paramedics just get it.

EMS is more than a job, and more than a career. EMS is a large part of how I identify myself. Husband, father, son, brother, Paramedic.

When I came back to work after my short hiatus, a coworker approached me and asked about a text document she found on the computer. I had run a particularly bad call that had a bad outcome. One of those once-a-year calls that just stays with you. I was having difficulty reconciling the events of this particular call. Almost two years later, this call still stays with me.

My coworker pulled me aside at the station that day after work, and asked me if I wrote that document. I sheepishly replied that I had, and expressed some remorse that I left that document on the computer. I had meant to delete it, but never did. The result of our conversation was the impetus for my blogging. We talked about that call for over an hour, and she made me realize that writing about the call helped my deal with the outcome.

So I started writing. I started taking my computer with me to work, with a backup spiral notebook. When I have down time, I write. I find that I don’t get writer’s block too much. Mostly, words flow through my fingers, and it has become remarkably therapeutic. My computer has a file with an inconspicuous name which is literally hundreds of pages of writing. I just keep adding to it. Occasionally, something is good enough for me to post here. Maybe one day I will do something with all those words, but for now, it is my therapy.

I received an email shortly after I started posting to my old blog site, which led me to Dave Konig, and EMSBlogs. He and I corresponded over a few days, maybe a week, and the next thing I knew, I was an EMSBlogs hosted blogger, getting thousands of views a week. I have made virtual friends, which are simply too many to name, and I feel like I have become a changed person. This has truly been an exciting ride, and I am grateful to have received a ticket. I don’t know where this ride is going, but I know that I belong in EMS.

I am extremely grateful for you, the reader, for being here with me. I feel honored to work in the same field as you, and am delighted to call my readers my brothers and sisters in EMS. I don’t have to physically meet any of you to call you friends.

This is the best career in the world, and I can’t imagine doing anything else. Thanks for being there with me in my journey. I still have my LSAT scores tucked away in a special spot in my office, but I’m not going anywhere.

CCC ain’t going out of service for a long time.

Penn State University should take down the Paterno statue.

Louis Freeh’s 267-page report into the Sandusky child sex abuse case is a terrible indictment of the culture of Penn State Football since 1998. The University President, Vice President, Athletic Director, and football Head Coach Paterno never went to authorities with their knowledge of what Sandusky was doing to kids.

That makes them people of low moral character.

They allowed little boys to be raped.

They knew Sandusky was raping little boys, and did nothing to stop it.

They didn’t stop it because of how it “might reflect on the football program.”

Joe Paterno allowed little boys to be raped.

Matt Millen, a man who played football at Penn State, described Joe Paterno as a “man of character” when he stated his disagreement with taking down the Paterno statue. My wife’s rebuttal was better than I could have ever delivered:

“ A man of character would not have allowed little boys to be raped for twelve years. What kind of man does it take to hide something like that because he is scared of what would happen to his football team? A horrible man.”

My wife is right.

Emergency response for a young female who “may have accidentally overdosed on her medication.”

This call sounds really, really stupid.

We are going with a fire truck, and according to the notes, local law enforcement. That doesn’t make the call sound any less stupid.

We arrive at a very nice home in a very nice part of town, in a good school district. Nicely mowed lawn, and two late model foreign luxury cars greet us in the front of the house before we walk in.

We find a very pretty, stupid appearing female in no apparent distress lying on a sofa in a living room. This is obviously her parents’ home, and her parents are obviously very productive members of society.

“So, what’s going on?”

“Um, I, like, took two of my Adderall today, instead of the, like, one that I normally take.”

“Do you have the pills with you?” I ask, as Slimm obtains some remarkably normal vital signs, with the expected sinus tachycardia noted on the monitor.

“Yeah, they’re like, right here, in my pocket.” as she hands me a tiny baggy with Batman logos on it.

I’m no pharmacist, but I don’t think Batman logo baggies are normally dispensed.

“Are these your pills?”

“No, I get them from, like, a friend at college, I buy them from a friend, you know? I’ve been taking them for about a year, and I just accidentally, like, took more today than normal.”

“You do know that you shouldn’t take medications that aren’t prescribed to you by a doctor, right? I mean, that’s pretty dangerous.”

“Yeah, I know, but they don’t do anything bad to me, and like, I need Adderall to help me get my work done and stuff.”

“Do you feel funny, are you hurting anywhere, or anything like that?”
“Like, yeah. My heart is like, racing and junk.”

The monitor says 120. Fair enough.

“Well, we should probably run you up to the hospital and get you checked out. I’m not sure what they can do for an Adderall overdose, but they know more than I do.”
“Um, I think I will be fine. Plus, I don’t have any insurance, so, like, I can’t pay, like, the bill or anything.”

To save time, and for the sake of expediency, I will fast-forward through the next ten minutes of patient encounter, where I strongly urged this doofus patient to go to the hospital with me.

“Okay, sign here, and make sure you call us back if you need an ambulance, okay?

The police officer, who I had barely noticed throughout the whole encounter, finally speaks up.

“She not going with y’all?”

“No sir, she isn’t.”

“Are y’all going in service from this call?”

“Yes sir, we are.”

“Okay, good.” To the patient: “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to put your hands behind your back for me now.”

“What?! WHY!?”

“Ma’am, you are under arrest for possession of a controlled substance.”

Priceless.

Lessons for my patient:

• Don’t take medication that isn’t prescribed to you.
• Don’t buy illegal drugs from your college friends.
• Don’t readily admit to felony drug possession in front of a law-enforcement officer.
• Don’t refuse to go to the hospital when the paramedic says you should.

• Management would love Tim Tebow. He may be unorthodox in his patient care, but he somehow seems to get the job done. He is quick to deflect praise on himself towards the other rescuers on scene. “I had a great team out there on that paper cut call.”
• Tim Tebow would never need dispatchers. He would ride around his zone, asking people if they needed to be saved today.
• His hospital turnover times would be terrible. It’s difficult to effectively proselytize and complete paperwork in a timely manner.
• He could never work for a Presbyterian, Jewish, Catholic or Methodist Hospital ambulance service. It’s strictly Baptist for him.
• He could never work for one company for longer than 6 months. He is the child of missionaries, after all.
• He would never have received his paramedic education from an accredited school, no. He hired Johnny and Roy to come homeschool him in how to be a paramedic.
• He would never wear the gold patch of the NREMT, unless he was allowed to wear cologne of frankincense, and gargle with myrrh.
• He would easily win Paramedic of the Year in only his second year on the streets.
• His stethoscope name-tag, instead of saying “Tim Tebow” would display a bible verse instead. Complaints from atheist patients or hospital workers would prompt his employer to issue a new “Tebow-Littman rule” banning bible verses from prominent stethoscope display.
• He would not be allowed to carry laryngoscope blades, as he is 167-for-353 on his intubation attempts, for a dismal 47.3% success rate.
• Despite his low success rate at intubation, he would have an extremely high cardiac arrest save rate, and his career paramedic rating would hover around 75, with his cardiac arrest rating being 125.6. At least he is rated better in a sudden-death scenario.
• He would make the cover of JEMS wearing a sleeveless uniform shirt and cutoff jean shorts. He is from Florida, after all.
• His on-scene times would be terrible, as he would thank Jesus for each successful IV start, or rhythm strip. His 12-leads would be delayed, albeit briefly, while he prayed to God for a normal axis without ectopy or ST-segment elevation.
• There would be no a-fib in Tim Tebow’s ambulance. Or v-fib for that matter. You can’t lie to Tim Tebow.
• He would have no problem conforming with Federal Specifications, specifically KKK-A-1822b, and ANSI Z53.1-1979, as his favorite colors are already orange and blue.
• He would hobble onto the hospital ramp with only half the lights working, with 3 flat tires and a busted radiator hose, doing CPR frantically, but the patient would have a pulse, and wake up in time to thank Tebow for saving the game his life. In reality, the thanks should be given to the kicker partner for arriving at the destination as time expired on the vehicle.
• Can you imagine Tim Tebow calling a report in a hurry-up mode? “Rampart, Rampart, MALE! Forty-two, Forty-two!” (punching his chest while looking at the patient) “Sinus, sinus on the 12, Watch for ectopy…Che….stPAIN! CAD! HTN! Aspirin, NITRO, NITRO, NITRO, in five, ready…HUTHUTHUT!”

Thanks to Greg Friese for the inspiration.  This was fun!

My supervisor finally gave me the yearly review. That’s good, considering it should have been done six months ago.

But the supervisors are busy, so that’s okay. Plus, as long as I still have a job, I figure I’m doing my job well enough.

Like they say, “pay me enough not to quit, and I’ll do just enough to not get fired.”

I was given high marks for “interpersonal interaction.” The review comments said “interacts well with customers and patients, and is always professional.”

I guess calling people stupid and ignoring people with anxiety attacks is doing things right.

Or my review was mixed up one belonging to someone else.

I think I’ll try hard this year to do even better, and get even higher marks for my next review.

I’ll give that 6 weeks.  Tops.

Following in the aftermath of the Volusia County debacle late last year, USA Today ran an article about the increasing numbers of employers that are refusing to employ nicotine users.

“Nicotine users” is my term, as most articles only reference smokers. There are many ways of using nicotine without smoking.

I still believe that the decision to hire, or not to hire a person rests with the employer. If an employer refuses to hire or employ a nicotine user, then that is their prerogative. While I can’t say that I would run out to go work for such a place, I do commend them for making such a decision.

The ACLU actually lobbied for “smoker’s rights” and caused 29 states to pass smoker-protection laws. Federal law, so far, is silent on the issue of nicotine-free hiring, because smokers aren’t considered a protected class.  But, if you live in one of those states in blue, and are a smoker, then you are afforded more rights as such.  I found that mildly interesting.

That decision to refuse to hire nicotine users is less about “you can’t use tobacco and work here” and more about “this job belongs to the employer, as opposed to the employee.”

Employers can have one of two reasons for a policy against nicotine users. 1.) Reducing costs of providing insurance, which would directly affect profit margins, and 2.) In the best interest of their employees. While most employers would like us to believe that option 2 is the impetus behind their policies, you can rest assured that it is really option 1. Employers who refuse to hire nicotine users would be better off by offering smoking cessation programs as opposed to just showing someone the door.

The motivation behind the policy doesn’t matter. The policy is set by the employer.

Eventually, employers are going to move to refuse to hire obese people. How they would set that bar, I don’t know. I guess if my employer ever decides to change their policies, I will be losing some weight. I would still choose to remain employed there, mostly because I enjoy my job, and especially like working for Local Ambulance. But if I were looking for a job, I would probably avoid such a policy.

I realize that my stance with employers who make these decisions is unpopular, I am still of the thought that the employer is the one who owns the job, as opposed to the employee. I also believe that if a person doesn’t want to follow rules laid down by an employer, there is surely to be someone waiting who is willing to follow those rules.

As a note, I am an admitted nicotine user. I don’t smoke cigarettes, but do occasionally use smokeless tobacco, and will, on rarer occasion, smoke a cigar during a round of golf. I am also mildly overweight. I stand 6 feet tall and weigh just under 100 kilos.  i am also well aware of the health risks associated with both.