So, I had an excellent update started yesterday all ready to go when a call dropped. Naturally, my phone lost the entry when I clicked off and now I've forgotten all the clever crap I wrote. Thus is life.
Anyway. YESTERDAY BLEW. It was horrible. All day just sucked.
First, Tuesday night, I got into a pretty huge fight with my best friend of five years, who--by the way--HAS CANCER. How horrible am I, to be so mad at someone, all the while she fights for her life? I really am that awful.
This is what happened: Sunday was my birthday. Not a big huge deal, just another day really, but still I should expect a little love coming my way--or, at least, this is how normal people perceive birthdays. Well, she didn't call. She didn't message. She didn't even send out a two word text message. No word from her at all. And me, I didn't even really notice until around six when I was driving home from my mom's. It hit me pretty hard, and honestly, I was so angry I couldn't even think about it. The next day, even, no word. She updated her little blog where she keeps everyone updated on her struggles and how she's feeling. No word about anything to me. So, I basically didn't even care about her existence for two days. Like I said, I took it pretty hard.
It didn't help, you know, that Chetara forgot too. Or that I haven't heard from another friend or two that they are happy I am alive. Thanks guys, sincerely. Thanks for being there.
Anyway, let's try not to be bitter.
So, Tuesday night, I was still livid but I couldn't not think about it anymore. And, I couldn't just drop it, or her, like she was no one, because she isn't. If she were no one, I wouldn't be mad. So, I text messaged her and laid it out that I was angry. She sent several texts back, apologizing and excusing her behavior, but I had nothing else to say at that point, so I didn't. I just couldn't say more than I already had. So I went to bed.
And then I didn't sleep.
And then I had to be at work at 04:30, because I'm some sort of masochist or something.
And then I was stuck on a truck with the most stubborn, arrogant, know-it-all paramedic orientee, that I almost hit a bitch.
She wouldn't give me directonal. She didn't know HOW to give me directional. First call, she suddenly couldn't read the map book she'd been using for ELEVEN rides. So, I was like, whatev, pulled up the map on the MDT and told her to map it from there. SHE COULDN'T USE IT. She didn't even know which direction was NORTH. Hint: the direction in which we are currently travelling!!! You know, because the address that dropped is three miles NORTH of post. THE FUCK?
Yeah...call, after horrible call, bitch couldn't give me directional. She couldn't get it through her head that what I needed wasn't vague "it'll be on 11th between Mingo and Garnett" but, "take a left onto (street name) from 11th, then first right." Yeah. Apparently, directional is below her. Until she is out on the streets alone with a partner who has as much directional experience and she does. And then, directional is everything. And, guess what? Sup hears you're not giving your partner directions, you've got some 'splainin' to do.
Anyway, last call of the day, we had it out. First, she never hit the en route button, so dispatch was screaming at us for the fifth time that day to stat ourselves en route. But, instead of answering them, she just kept fucking around with the PILES of shit and the protocols she was looking up on her iPad. So, I grab the mic and apologize and then tell her I need some directional. So, she starts looking around in her map book, which takes a good SEVERAL minutes for her to even locate the right page. In the meantime, dispatch reads our call and I have to copy the address. I don't really have an issue with this, but she had no idea they were even talking to us. Let alone any idea how to map us in to this high priority call. Someone is actually dying and she can't get her shit together. So, I get us to the call, but in the process, I let her have it. Because, I am right, she needs to get her shit together.
We run the call and head to the hospital, but I can't help but feel like crap. Not because I blew up at her, but because I was right and I don't want this situation to come down on me in a bad way. She had a problem with my attitude, but I just have to say, when you talk down to the woman driving you around and doing all your shit for you, when you treat her like she's a dumb kid instead of the full-grown, responsible woman, who has A LOT more field experience than you do and may actually KNOW what she's doing, you probably have a bad attitude too, bitch. So, yeah, I shouldn't have blown up, I should have talked to her FTO, my partner of the day. Except he was never alone and both of them decided I was hung over and generally bitchy from the start. So, sorry, I didn't really feel comfortable talking to you about it, FTO.
So, it was sucky. It was all sucky. Just sucky. When I got back to the truck after we dropped off the patient, I called the FOS, praying it was my former partner suping and not someone I wasn't very familiar with. It was her, and she graciously took the time to hear my woe and dole out advice. She even called up my partner and talked to him about his orientee. And, then when we made it back to corporate, he talked to me about it and was very cool. I apologized and went home feeling okay, but damn did I need drink.
I was just glad it was all freaking over.
You know, when I try to talk to you about something, it's because it's important and we need to hash it out. Don't be a stubborn, arrogant bitch and refuse to even talk to me.
Yesterday also sucked because we had a few weird calls.
First, a DOA. Not weird, in itself, and nothing that bothers me. But, my partner and the cop were standing in the living room, dead guy in the middle of the floor, talking about the elk he'd killed and mounted on his wall. His ex-wife was there, and, apparently, she found him the night before but had left him on the floor and gone home. I dunno, I guess to sleep on it. So, she came back that morning, saw him still laying there, and called us. Then stood there, with my partner and the cop and CHATTED CASUALLY about the elk. What? Too weird for me, and I have a high tolerance for the abnormal.
Then, we had a DHS call. Three little girls neglected and, probably, abused.
So, yeah, sucky day.
This morning, I woke up and I decided I wasn't going to let anything break just because of a birthday. So, I drove to Nancy's. And now I am here. And nothing is broken. Well, a lot of things are broken, but we repaired the relationship and that's all I can do today. I'm taking the victory and leaving it at that.
Do You Even Know How You Make Me Weak?
Happy Birthday BTW. *shields self behind arm*
ReplyDeleteThere is nothing wrong with "aggressive verbal counseling" especially when patients are involved. Mapping is rapidly becoming a lost art, damn gps. The paramedic STUDENT needs to remember that patient care begins when the call gets toned not when you get on scene. Just because they are going to P-school does not mean they are a Paramedic YET or for that case ever will be. It takes a long time to be a good in the medical field no matter what your level of certification or degree says.
But as a reminder honey and vinegar. The carrot and the stick. There are times for both and there are certain people who are more receptive to certain approaches than others. I could go ad nauseum on the whole subject.
We need to figure out how to exchange emails somehow. 'Cause my comments are getting longish, preachy and one sided.
You're right. Super preachy. ;)
DeleteYou CAN email me. Either thatbloodygirl@gmail.com or theskeletonfriend@gmail.com. Bloody girl is the quasi-professional one, wherein I get all my work emails and junk from school, but I will answer either account.