Thanks...

To all you baahhsttahhds dreaming of a White Christmas.
We have it now.
You can stop dreaming. 'K? THANKS!

Response to the third request for my opinion on a survey

Look, if I wanted to leave feedback, I would have. I am adept enough in the use of computers to find your website, find the "CONTACT US" button and raise seven kinds of holy h-e-double hockey stick had I not received it, and you would have heard from me by now. If I thought the service was absolutely smokin'-hot-out-of-this-world, I would have written to your company to compliment you on a job well done.
Since I received my product through mediocre services(quite the delay, mind you), I didn't feel it was necessary to either compliment or ridicule you. Seeing as you are virtually DEMANDING a response with the second or third email requesting me to fill out a survey, I feel the need to contact you and ask you to STOP SENDING ME SURVEYS. Either that, I'm going to develop my own survey to send to you to ask you to rate me as a customer, and begin to ask you such questions as "Did my puchase of a 7.00 item improve your daily sales to the point that you would recommend me as a customer to other vendors?", "Was my credit card appropriate for your usage?", "Did you enjoy sending me my product via the slowest shipping rate possible?" and "Do you feel that Amazon.com is an appropriate location to start advertising the sale of groceries?" "How do you feel about global warming?"
If you feel these questions are utterly preposterous and time wasting, maybe you will begin to know how I really feel about receiving multiple requests for my opinion on a survey.
If you insist on sending me surveys and asking me for my opinion, beware, I may just give it to you, and it may not be the glowing praise that you are looking for. A satisfied customer will tell about 3 people they had a good shopping experience. A dissatisfied customer will tell 10. Not such a good ratio for your company.

It's not the purchase I'm dissatisfied with, it is the badgering for my opinion that is making me dissatisfied.
Thank you,
A Disgruntled Customer

Scary....

While on a break this evening at a local call center that receives orders for a popular outdoor retail store (making scarcely 10/hr (that's dollars)), I heard the following comment after listening to a comment on the news about the auto "bailout"
"I think I'm a socialist at heart. I don't think that people who have earned a lot of money should be allowed to keep it. They should have to give it to people less fortunate."
And this statement was made after the individual said "I support Barack Obama"

A long long time ago...

...I can't remember the rest of the post I had done.
It was all written and ready to publish and the computer pooped out on me.

On the meme side thanks to Medic Matthew
What you would tell your 14 year old self as a piece of advice from the you now...
1. Persevere. Not perseverate.
2. Just because you're moving, doesn't mean it's the end of the world.
3. Pay more attention in school, and go to bed.
4. Staying up isn't as cool as it seem because waking up in a puddle of drool in Spanish class just isn't ok.

Bart

Back many moons ago, when I was just starting college, my mom was helping my dad move a ladder.
The ladder slipped, and my mom's hand was caught between the rungs and the extension, shattering her 5th metacarpal into many bits which the surgeon couldn't find.
Her job as an EMT-Intermediate stopped.
Her way of life had stopped.
Both her kids were now in college
And she was literally hanging around in a sling with two nails sticking out of her hand, trying to get the bones to mend.
Needless to say, she got bored.
So for an early Christmas present, we decided to get her a dog.
An English Setter named Bart, who had already had 2 homes, one of which had little kids that would pull his tail and ears, and generally get in his face.
He didn't like that, so he went back to the breeder.
He went to a little old lady's house, where he promptly jumped up on the counter, and devoured her pot roast.
She didn't like that, so he went back to the breeder.
At 6 months old, he had been rejected twice, and needed some extra love and care.
This is what we got.

Quite the little prince.
And the ball was HIS.
And they had fun together, going for walks, playing "Stalk", he would run in and jump on my bed in the morning, and just a wonderful easy going animal.
He had the bladder the size of a teacup, but that was a genetic fault, and nothing that could be prevented.
Bart would always go for a ride when asked, and he knew when it was time to get me at school, because my mom would ask him if he wanted to go "get "
When I moved out of my parents house, I didn't go there to visit my parents. Nope, I went to visit Bart.
He was a huge part of my life.
A few years ago, he was having some trouble urinating, and my mother took him to the vet, where they discovered his bladder was full of stones.
He had surgery to repair it.
It was fine for a while, but my father went to a weekend event, and my mom noticed Bart having trouble urinating again.
He was whimpering when he tried to urinate.
Long and short of it, Bart's bladder ruptured, and could not be repaired.
He was put down on September 10, 2007. I miss him very, very much.
This is the dog my parents bought to "replace" Bart. His name is Isaac.

He's cute, full of piss and vinegar, but is in no way, shape, or form, Bart.
If there's a heaven, I hope that Bart is there, chasing balls and pointing turkeys that are already stuffed, basted, and fully cooked.
I miss you, Mookie.

More societal rants...

Not that I haven't wanted to write...
I haven't had the chance...we (the awesome hubby and I) went to NYC last weekend and have been playing catch-up ever since...
So the rant of the evening:

This
is what I'm ranting about.

A book introducing sexuality, sexual health, and information about STI's (Sexually Transmitted Infections) in cartoon-type illustrations of young people about sex.
Something that is "perfectly normal" and part of a "complete diet" of wellness. This, removed from the library of small town, rural America (where some people choose not to have TV's for the well being of their children)is my point of frustration.

When kids ask their parents about sex and where they came from(which they will do when the hormones start raging, and they begin to have feelings about the opposite (or same) sex), it's an appropriate book for parents to use as a reference point. It's on kid-level, so it's not using big medical terms, or pornography (which, by the way, is defined by Merriam-Webster as "material (as books or a photograph) that depicts erotic behavior and is intended to cause sexual excitement". This book is NOT intended to cause sexual excitement, rather, to educate our kids about it when it happens.

The thing about our country is we have freedom of speech and to practice our own religion, as well as to protest what we think is wrong. This woman is entitled to expressing her opinion, where she feels this book may have a negative effect on the children of today's society, and may be religiously amoral. If she feels it is a bad book, she has the right to choose not to purchase it, or show it to children she knows and feels are to young to read it.

However, she does not have the right to prevent other people from buying, reading, or signing this book out of the library, which, by theft, she has done (although many kind-hearted, intelligent, generous people have donated the same book in it's place)

It's not the book that is the problem.
It's not the shows on television.
It's not the 'other' kids in school.

The problem is parents not being ready to be parents because they were too busy screwing in the back of the bus and made said kids that they didn't want in the first place.
So who's responsible? Teachers? 4-H leaders/girl scout/boy scout leaders? Other kids parents? no
It is the responsibility of parents to teach their OWN children what is right and what is wrong.
If kids don't get the answers(the whole answers) to the questions they are asking, they will find the answers elsewhere, even if it is from Billy, the "cool" kid who has 5 girls hanging from his arms, and more than that in STI's hanging below his belt.
And if teaching them about sex will prevent the spread of HIV/AIDS, Syphilis, Gonorrhea, Chlamydia, Herpes, or whatever other creepy crawlies are scurrying through underpants, then so be it.
If teaching them about sex will prevent more unwanted kids in the world, then print all the books possible and give 'em out on street corners, because we don't need more unwanted kids.

Obesity

OK, so I work for a hospital.
I realize that there are many conditions for which people seek medical attention, one of which is obesity, and generally not capable of moving more than 10 feet without having a little red go kart tote them around.
I saw a blurb on the news that "by 2046, all Americans will be obese".
Whoa. Hold the Twinkies, the Ho-Ho's, and the Milkshakes.
Does that mean that the Atkin's diet, anorexic jackasses are going to be eliminated? Right, they will all have died as a result of clogged arteries and heart attacks. But at least they'll be easier to carry down the aisle to the altar in a pine box.
How about the professional athletes?
Laborers?
Marathoners?
Distance cyclists?
Well, that begs the question, what is "obese?"
Obesity is defined as being above your BMI, which is calculated by your height, weight and sex. MY weight should be no more than 170, max, to achieve a "normal" BMI. I haven't seen that since I had mono.
In another article, I read they are going to stop pushing the "BMI" or body mass index as a method of judging if a person is healthy, even though they may be considered overweight according to their BMI. Take someone who is active (may not get quite as much exercise as they would like, but still able to ride a bicycle for 2+ hours at 16 miles per hour), has "normal" blood pressure, "normal" lipid profile, and "normal" fasting blood sugar, but tips the scale a bit higher than the "average" person. They are told they are "overweight" and made to feel guilty, stress about what they eat, and attempt to change everything they do to try and fit into a cookie cutter image that the government would like to promote.
I went to see my doctor for my annual physical. Ok, I know that I'm NOT the posterchild for a bikini advertisement, unless they slicked up Baby Shamu and slid him in. I don't pretend to be. I try to wear clothes that are fashionable and moderately flattering, but I prefer BDU's and army boots, which are anything but.
However, my doctor looked at me and said, without gleaning any background info about what I eat, do for exercise, etc, that "You should consider joining Weight Watchers...Not that we endorse them or anything, but we've had patients that were successful at weight loss."
******WHAM*******
Unsolicited, blatant, telling me that I'm a porker (thanks, as if I didn't know that already, you jackass. I needed another blow to my ego...don't worry, it will bounce off the blubber), and need to start running on the treadmill. I hate running. My boobs hit me in the face, and I get more workout in my chest than my legs, unless i duct tape and saran wrap them in one place. Instead of "advising me" to join some shitty, dehydrated, chemical flavored, mail order food company, that I can't afford, why don't you do a little research? Barriers to prevention? (Cost, I like the food I eat (homecooked, mostly organic, thank you), need new sneakers (that I can't afford right now), can't do push ups because my wrist hurts and if you'd give me two fucking seconds to take a breath you might actually hear that, my back is giving me crap, and add to the fact that you were just a complete ass? Take your suggestion, shove it sideways where the monkey stuffed the nut, and go find a class on compassion, you useless, arrogant, deaf, waste of a copay and my insurance dollars. Go write more on your precious journal.

In some ways, I applaud the Dove commercials that are trying to promote a young woman's self image, but produced by a company that tries to sell firming creams and help women keep their "youthful" appearance? uhh...OK...

Something to laugh about

This evening, while I was changing into some lounge-y type clothing, I looked down and realized a close friend of mine was slowly dying.
It used to be so supportive, and separate, but it has grown old. First, it lost a rib. Then it lost the other rib.
It has conformed to me, even on bad days.
It's lived a good life, but it's slowly unraveling, and as I part with my friend because I could just kill someone with the way this unaboob swings from side to side.

More on laziness

Tonight's babble?
Abuse of the state system

Our lovely state has opened it's doors to immigrants, which has been done for hundreds of years. Irish, German, English, French, Canadian, and I apologize to anyone whom I have forgotten. Back when these people were immigrating, they brought with them sweat, tears, muscle, and lots of hard work. How is this demonstrated? Ever seen the buildings in your "downtown" with the years on them? I highly doubt that they were constructed with the use of cranes. Farms? Stone walls? Roads? Ditches? Railways? Mills (woolen, paper, wood, you name it), and they did it. Sure, you had some people in there who wouldn't carry their own weight, however, they were few and far between, and those that didn't, didn't live for very long like that. The "poor farm" was alive and well. It was an era when people knew the value of a hard earned dollar, didn't take anyone or anything for granted, and to help thy neighbor was a way of life.

Fast forward to our current state of affairs.

We have opened our doors to a population who has immigrated to the US because of drug wars, war lords, over population, disease, and nonsustainable living. Some of this population is trying really hard to climb their way out of the devastation and squalor they live in by going to school, farming, getting a job, and making a living. For these people, Kudos. I laud these people. To the ones who are given a car and have the license plate "UBOTIT"...I have a special place in my heart for you...and it gets colder each time I see my paycheck having more taxes taken out.

We have people who sit around the house all day and collect a "pay check" from the government. For what? Breathing? Changing the channel? On the claim that they have a "disability". I don't discredit the people who have a TRUE disability (missing a head). Paralyzed from the neck down. Vegetative states. I know there are other injuries that make it prohibitive for someone to lift, walk, or anything else. Some people who have a limited list of psychiatric disorders. Being fat is not a reason not to work. Maybe if you actually went to work and had some structure, instead of walking from the couch to the refrigerator (or just have one installed next to the couch), you wouldn't be in that predicament to begin with.

However, I don't feel that we should give people who have never worked a day in their life to pay into social security SSDI.

I don't feel that we should GIVE housing to people who refuse to work. Want housing? Get something you can AFFORD. If all you can afford is a tent, well, at least it's a roof over your head. May not be the best, but it's not a payment you can just afford per month while you are in search of the elusive American dream that you will end up paying for until 20 years after you die at the ripe old age of 95.

I don't believe we should hand out food stamps for someone to purchase chicken nuggets, Sunny Delight, soda, and chips (and spend $40 dollars on the EBT card) followed by beer, cigarettes, and a smut magazine, and leave in a brand new 40k truck. Need food? Grow your own. Work on a farm. Sell the bling. Rhinestone covered thongs do not count as necessities.

I don't feel that we should give out health care. If you need it, fine. But after you receive it, volunteer. You have some sort of talent. Sorting paperclips could be a job for these people. Walk from one end of the hospital to the other taking lost people to the place they're looking for.

I don't feel we should "provide" child care. If you need child care, and can't pay for it, don't have any more kids! If you can't afford the one you've got, why breed more? Why work just to pay for child care?

School should be a place for learning, and not for "free care" (that you pay for in taxes) for 6 hours (8 if you count the hour each way for the bus). It's not romper room. You can't bounce off the walls for 5.98 hours of the day, and the other .02 hours you're in the bathroom. If you do something wrong, there should be consequences.

This brings me to the news of the day that has me wound.
Matthew has posted this
If you do something wrong, there should be consequences.
Killing someone is wrong. Even if it wasn't intentional, your actions have consequences. When playing baseball and you hit the neighbors window, you had to pay for it, apologize, get grounded, and not do it again. It was still an accident, but there were consequences.

12 years is nothing. It's an era of school. In Kindergarten, we all imagined that we would NEVER graduate. We eventually did. In looking back, we postulate where the time went.
Make him do something productive. Stamp license plates. Build furniture. Sweep up dust chips. Collect garbage on the side of the road. Shovel out fire hydrants in the winter. Live in hell until death (no visitors, no "day passes", no amenities, nothing), and maybe, just maybe, it will be halfway equal to killing someone.

Instead of giving satellite or cable t.v., weight room, 3 squares, a bed, and clean clothes, make it something people don't want. If there wasn't a stigma attached, and the whole moral compass that I have, I would say, damn, I can get all of that without doing anything? Sign me up! The sheriff who did the baloney sandwiches, yurts, and had the whole chain gang thing had it right. People didn't want to do that, so the crime went down. Shocker.

We have become a soft society. A society that expects things for free, not willing to work for them, and not realizing a lot of hard work (of someone) goes into that "pay check" that you get once a month to sit, be a sack of shit and breed like bunnies.

I understand that mistakes happen. However, I shouldn't have to pay for other peoples mistakes.

My wonderful, loving husband works in a machine shop as a second shift supervisor. Because of the nature of my job (working day time hours), his schedule of 3p-1a is a little prohibitive of seeing each other.

I take dinner to him most nights, (and in the almost 3 months he's been on this shift , I may have missed 3 nights), and it's usually something homemade, even if it's leftovers. I eat with him, and go home. Sometimes I get ice cream for the other guys, but I'm not there for long. I have things to do (feed the dog, clean up my hellish mess in the kitchen, etc)
One of his employees has a girlfriend. Not that unusual.
What is unusual, is that he brings his girlfriend with him, sits her in the break room with a laptop, and she sits and watches movies or surfs the internet.

Now, when I was a kiddo, and my mother would get called in to work (as an EMT-I) and didn't have someone to watch us, we would go with her. We took books, crafts, anything to keep us occupied until she was done. It didn't happen often, but it happened a couple of times. If I remember correctly, I usually ended up helping do something in the office.

Back to the girlfriend. She has 2 kids at home. And she lives with her father. Her reason for going to "work" with her boyfriend? "It gets me out of the house and I don't have to listen to my father and my kids scream". (She's younger than I am, and I'm gradjiated high school and 4 year college, and a little life experience, but not ready for the old folks home yet).
Whoa. Wasn't that part of the job description when you got pregnant and squirted out those screaming little brats?
Why aren't you at home, teaching them right and wrong, feeding them, putting them to bed? Oh yeah, that's right, you don't know the difference yourself, feeding is a drive-by from the burger joint, and bed is where you go to boink, oh, I'm sorry, put sedated limp rags of kids because you can't handle them!
Solution? Get a job. Get a residence of some nature. Make a living instead of leaching off me and the rest of society, and stop bitching about how horrible the life that you choose to make for yourself isn't the "elusive American Dream".

cars trucks and SUV's

A long time ago, I posted about SUV's. I'm so excited that I had someone other than family comment on it (thanks EE)
I have to babble...
I have a tiny car. It gets me where I want to go, most days. The only days it didn't this past winter was when we had 2 feet of snow over the night, and it just warn't movin'
I love my car. It gets great gas mileage, I can put a backboard in it, 8 foot 4x4's, skis (downhill and cross country) and all my bike schtuff. Just not all at once.
Don't get me wrong, some SUV's have their purpose. Off roading and backwoodsy stuff, and for people who HAVE to get to work (nurses, MD's, paramedics, etc). But for soccer mom's who whip them puppies around like they own the road, and drive like complete retards in the middle of winter and then wind up doing the turtle on the side of the road because their top heavy vehicle slid on the black ice, I have no use for. Just because they are bigger, doesn't mean they are safer. I have seen SUV'ers with horrendous injuries (and dead) from driving stupid. In my humble opinion (that's what this blog is all about) It doesn't really matter what we drive anymore. There are so many big rigs out there, that if you're going to get hit, and hurt, you can drive your biggest baddest vehicle, but you're still going to be hurt. I've seen people driving compact cars walk away from a totaled vehicle, and people driving big vehicles not fare so well.
Choose your vehicle well.

More ranting

I do more than rant, honestly.
To give a bit of history, I'm an EMT-I practicing as an EMT, and have a day job working on data entry on trauma patients.
I have a BS in Community Health (READ: Prevention)
I have seen what happens when teenagers and others drink to excess (and more than I care to)
I was never a party animal in high school or college. I had other things to do. Like getting hurt.
Someone I know admitted to me today that she not only allowed, but purchased alcohol for her underage daughter and her daughters boyfriend, who were staying in one place.
Her philosophy "She's going to do it anyway. Why not let her do it? At least she's not driving." This is not the first time I have heard this philosophy, and it bothers me.
How about teaching your child some responsibility? That you don't need to have alcohol to have fun? That alcohol solves no problems, and usually ends up causing more in the end? Is a gateway drug, and can introduce a young malleable mind to start trying other things that may be less than legal?

How long is it before she decides, while at a party, wants to go for some munchies with a bunch of her friends and ends up wrapping her car around a phone pole and kills someone, or herself? People who drink and drive and kill/hurt people usually don't intend to do it (well, maybe some), and it's billed as an accident.

Why are we allowing our society to let this philosophy run rampant?
Why do we sit and wring our hands and say "How did this happen?" when someone dies from drinking and driving, or binge drinking, or stupid things that happen while drinking (falling off a deck and breaking a neck)?

Not that I'm in favor of prohibition, because then it just makes more money for certain groups.
I just wish people would be more responsible

GAHH!

I missed! I was supposed to post this weekend...but didn't have the opportunity. I was in the having a meltdown getting my new mattress and was supposed to be riding in the MS 150, which is my 8th Maine ride, but 9th overall.

So, on the first order of business...if you haven't checked what I'm referring to, maybe this
will help you understand. Well, I had to pass where it happened, and thought, well, I've done it for 3 years, I'll be fine.
Nope, thought I could do it, but il bastardo got the better of me that day.
Then, on Sunday, I decided, I would ride...It's not like I've never ridden in the rain before (All 4 Trek Across Maine's that I've done have been freezing cold and driving rain. I'm used to it). Besides, only once have I ridden either home or to work when it's been SUNNY! So rain wasn't a big deal. I left, and no sooner had I gotten down to the end of the road were people turning around and heading back. I thought "What a bunch of pussies, not wanting to ride in the rain, And then it started to thunder. And then there was lightning. Yes, boys and girls, I was riding an All metal bicycle on 700x23's and I was FEARLESS! Bring it ON, Mama Nature!
Then the event coordinators decided that having 500 people on a wet course, where visibility was not much more than your front wheel, and the thunder and lightning were cause for concern (Our spokesman is the local weatherguy...go figure) to turn us around! Grr...
So by 11 am, the weather had cleared, and the sun was shining.
If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes, it will change

The second order of business...
Our new mattress.
Yet another adventure!

I heard (or so I thought) an advertisement on the radio for a mattress company about 2 hours away having a 60% off sale on their mattresses. We were in the market for a king size bed, as our 15 pound Jack Russell Terrier had decide that our queen size just wasn't big enough for the 3 of us. I figured, hey, if we can get a 1000 mattress for 400 bucks, I'll get my arse out of bed at 0300 to be there by 0600! They even had a thing on their website.
I was very disappointed to learn that, in fact, was not the store that had the sale, but one that was 30 miles away, and didn't open until 8.
We walked in, laid down on a few mattresses (there were some that were really nice), and we found a couple that were possibilities. Unfortunately, they were not 60% off, and the salesman was not willing to come down any more than 10%.
So we left and went to a big store.
We got our king size bed for about 60% of what they were asking at the furniture store.
YAY!
Now the fun begins.
Our house, while quaint, is not very big. It was designed for little people. Not that there's anything wrong with little people, but when trying to get a big people mattress in, as the little rat on acid said "I theenk I neeed a beeger bawx.."
Furniture moving should be an Olympic Event. I never thought we could fit a 76x80" bed into a 70x 24" door, but with much more huffing and puffing and more energy expended than 2 bariatric patients spending a night on the Orgasmatron, we succeeded in getting the mattress in and set up.
We've decided it's not leaving that room until we move.

Societal rants

We have a Walgreens going in our town. Keep in mind now we have a Rite-Aid, Walgreens, and a local Mom and Pop type pharmacy with in an elementary softball players throw of each other.
We also have a Wal*mart, a Grocery store, and several other well known chains in town.

The question is, why do people have problems with "big box chain stores"

This is my response.

Take your blinders off and read the writing on the wall.
We can't be a sell sell sell society. We need to able to have goods and or services to sell. China isn't going to do us any favors by manufacturing everything. If it wasn't for "awful Corporate America" we wouldn't have half of the issues that we have. Since this is a capitalistic society, why is health care (something that everyone needs) such a lucrative business? While most health care facilities label themselves as "non-profits" you can't tell me that a physician must eat ramen noodles in order to survive. They make money. And why is that? Because insurance companies (who make oodles of money on patients who are healthy and do not use the services), and they contract to pay set amounts for certain services, and by doing so, drive the costs of health care up. So it's not the Mom and Pop's who can't afford to offer insurance because it is cost prohibitive and they can't financially justify it without passing it further on to the consumers. And it's not the big box chain stores who offer "health insurance" that will only pay for certain services that they approve, and only from providers that they choose. Meanwhile, they charge the poor shmucks who work for slightly more than minimum wage huge sums of money for the "benefits" they receive. This lulls people into a false sense of security and believing (because they don't read their policies) that if they are hurt or sick, they can go to the hospital and receive the care they need, and not be charged more than they make in a year. Apparently, people who have not worked in both big box chain stores and small Mom and Pop type establishments don't understand this concept (I have worked in both). The answer is not Dirigo Health, either, which is balanced on the soda/beer/flavored water/cigarette tax/anything else taxable, as well as siphoning off money from the money people in Maine pay into insurance to pad the balance. Nor is the answer socialized medicine, because you will still have the rich receiving the best care, because they can buy supplemental insurance while the poor and "nonsupplementally" insured sit and wait for appointments, hip replacements and knee replacements, usually dying from complications of said issue before it taking place.
Ask yourself, "Why are our taxes so high?"
Look at the social programs that we as a country have established, and how they are funded. Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac? How are they going to be bailed out? The government...and where did they get that money? That's right folks, every time you get paid and you see the "Federal Income Tax", we're paying for it. Because of questionable tactics and falsehoods made by eager homeowners (and not being a responsible, educated individual or couple), we have to pay for their stupidity.
If you spend more than you have, it's simple math. You'll be broke.
(a responsible) Mom and Dad won't bail you out. So why should the federal government and everyone who is paying taxes?

Rising to the Challenge

Medic Matthew has given me a challenge...blabbering blogging more than once a week.

So here we go.
I will insert my apology for the rant here.

Being relatively new to the publishing blogosphere, I don't want to offend anyone. But this is my personal opinion, and I'm protected under free speech, and I can say whatever I want. If you're offended, you don't have to come back.

I read Ambulance Driver and Crystal and have worked as an EMT-Intermediate for a transfer company.
I have also been hospitalized for mental health reasons.

So on one hand (the EMT hand), I have heard "Just another fucking nut run" when the pager goes off to transport a patient from Big City Hospital to the holding pen local psychiatric facility
I can't say that I have never been frustrated after the 10th psych run in an evening. But with each patient, I approached them all with the dignity and respect that I would give my grandmother on her deathbed.

On the other hand (JaneQPublic), I've been in the position to require a stay in a mental health hospital, given multiple circumstances that seemed to heavy to bear. And that's ok. If you broke your leg, would you go to the hospital and have it fixed (if the bone was poking out through the skin and the lower half of your leg were turning blue, and you begin to wonder how could you POSSIBLY have that much blood in your body??) Of course. So why is it that something unseen, unknown, draws so much stigma? "Well, he looked fine."

On one hand (the EMT Hand), I realize that out of 600 runs that I did in a year, 200 were for mental health reasons, whether it was for transfers or on scene interventions.

For some of those people, I question the validity of their "mental health" issues and whether or not they really required a very expensive trip in the back of an ambulance.

However, for some, I'm quite sure that an ambulance was truly the safest way for them to travel. Some of them, with a police escort.

On the JaneQPublic hand, I believe that the shear volume of people who cry wolf tend to make the EMS providers* care less and less about paying attention to what problem a psych patient may have, and thus, becoming callous towards them. Believe it or not, how we feel comes out in the comments we make to and around the patient, in body language, and in comments we make to each other.

As a society and as a profession, I think we need to watch what and how we say things because you never know who is listening, the experiences they have been through, and the impact of some seemingly insignificant verbal jab would have on someone who has almost completely given up on the human condition.
The converse of this is true as well. If we exude confidence as being someone who is trustworthy, a good listener, doesn't gossip, and can find solutions to problems (Note: Not Solve problems) then we are more receptive to meeting people where they are, and being compassionate towards all patients.

*Maybe this is a vast generalization of people I've encountered who have been burned by the system

Explanation

So I can't just leave and not explain...
On Friday the 13th, my friend Em had a bridal shower, that her sister threw. Well, think about an X-rated, uh, Tupperware party. Or Pampered Chef. Yes, boys and girls. You get the idea...
Well, her sister happens to work for a company that sends out the boys with the lights on top of their cars, and they're usually blue.
One of their fine (and I do mean fine) employees showed up to "crash" the party....
Whom I happen to have done some training with and I see time to time at work.
Em had a piece of, uh, vibrating "merchandise" which she promptly tossed into my lap.
So I'm stuck holding "the bag" as it were...
And my face turned about as red as a freshly washed fire engine.
I wanted to crawl under the couch, but well, it would have been a bit obvious. So my face just stayed a brilliant shade of crimson that would have made a cooked lobster envious.
Then we went out "bar hopping".
I don't drink unless I have a designated driver, and seeing as that wasn't really an option (I had cleverly volunteered as a DD), we went to a couple of "Popular" places.
I have some observations to make...
1. If you have anything more than fried eggs, REIGN those puppies in...Black eyes on you or your date just aren't cool.
2. If you have anything more than fried eggs, Tube Tops with no support should not find their way to your wardrobe
3. If you're so drunk you can't walk a straight line, there are chairs on the sidelines, have a seat already!
4. Men, once you cross the 50 and older range, please don't go to "dance" spots and try to pick up young girls. Boners on the floor are just not cool. Instead, go out on the golf course.
5. Girls, if you wear short skirts with nothing underneath, to the point that you can see the cheeks of your hiney, don't be surprised when a guy stands behind you in an attempt to "dance" It's called the horizontal Mambo, and usually results in regret.
6. To the over 40 crowd- Goth is out. It's for punks who are trying to rebel and be "independent" and "different" just like everyone else. Primarily, they are rebelling against your generation. It doesn't make you cool to dress like them.
7. Girls, I understand the buddy system, but going into a bathroom stall together? Come on...please don't tell me you someone to pass you the toilet paper
8. Kids, don't try to get in if you're under 21. You will be had, and we can spot you a mile away.
9. Musicians- please find more than two notes. Really. After the first 10 measures of 2 notes, it gets old. Very quickly.
10. Bars- When someone LOOKS drunk, please, stop serving them

ok, I think i've gone gone sufficiently on yet another rant.

Hi, my name is Random...

So, it's been a long time, again!
It's not the writers strike, nope.
It's not lack of desire, but maybe lack of material. A while ago, the bariatric office moved out of our area and our area got revamped. That's another story for another time. So I lost my primary reason for starting this blog. Since the last time I posted, well, not a lot has happened. I guess that's not entirely true. My husband and I took our one of our nieces and one of our nephews to the Shrine Circus. Then we took all of our nieces and nephews (save 1) to a Baseball game because Dylan had been nominated most improved student in his class, and was honored at one of Boston's farm teams. We got some pretty awesome pictures of him, but he was scared of Slugger, the mascot... He was so cute though!
We took the Grands to the Fuji, the scrumptuous place for Casco Bay Rolls. I want one. Mmmm and plum sake.
Gram tried SUSHI! She's like 75 and never tried it, and she LIKED IT! It was so cool!
Oh..And I forgot...
The voyage to King Arthur Flour. HAHAHAHA....Put 6 women in a van on the way to Vermont, from Maine and what do you get? Sore sides, from laughing so hard!
It was me, my mom(Mom1), my mother-in-law(Mom2), her mom(gram), my mom's neighbor(MN), and my husband's cousin's wife(HCW).
So, varied age ranges, but the common thread is that we all love to cook. I happened to have been listening to Meatloaf (of the "Paradise by the dashboard light" artist). Well, I asked if anyone wanted to listen to anything specific, I didn't get much response, and I said "Does Anyone mind Meatloaf?" To which Gram says "Isn't that what you cook for dinner?" So, naturally, I had to play "Paradise by the Dashboard Light", to which she quickly realized, the Meatloaf to which I was referring, was not a dinner option at all.
We arrive at Mecca, I mean, King Arthur Flour, where we proceed to spend a few hours perusing the treasures, and wishing we had a larger van for the loot that we had acquired. I know we came back with at least 125# of flour, and no one rode on the roof, amazingly! Since the middle of April, my house has gone through about 70 pounds of flour. There are only 2 people in our house. No, really, we live inside the house, not around it (by the way, home made bread costs about .40 per loaf. Why on Earth would you allow the stores to rob you blind and make you fat with High Fructose Corn Syrup, and BLEACHED FLOUR!??) We also went to the Vermont Country Store (Very cool store...check it out sometime!)
I digress.
So we're on our way back, and being fond of cycling, I pointed out that a guy was TOTALLY riding the wrong way. (he was about 50, with a backpack, no helmet, his seat all the way down and his knees out past the handlebars)
So, MN postulated that he was sitting on a couple of basketballs.
Well, that devolved into raisins and hotdogs based on Gram's suggestion
Which, of course, I supplied the Maine version of Viagra...A popsicle stick and Duct tape
And the van collapsed into hysterics...
And postulating that he was probably riding to get his bottle of Royal Crown for the night.
More hysterics.
Imagine a dorm room full of giggling teenagers.
That's what the van was like.
And I arrived back at my parents house to discover my husband had dinner mostly cooked (He truly is the King of the Grill. And don't let anyone take that spatula away! I'll chase them!)
Then I had my Birthday (More sushi!)
And we had a BBQ for Mother's day
And I took a week's vacation (and it didn't seem like it a bit!)
And we had a BBQ for Father's day...
More later. I have to back up...

whoa

So it's been a while.
I'll blame it on the writers' strike.
My hubby turfed off his bike, we did a lot of stuff, lots of birthdays, holidays, moved, worked a second job, and phew...here we are.
Oh yeah...
Now I'm doing a Pampered Chef business, and teaching a cooking class.
What can I say, I don't like to be bored...
And tomorrow, I have to go to a funeral of my best friend's father. Can anyone tell me where I fan find the faucet to turn OFF the waterworks?
Thanks...
Stay tuned