I'm Not a Fortune Teller

Well...here I am: twenty-four. Yay me.

I've survived twenty-four years on this planet. Here's to surviving one more.

I asked off of work today, which, considering how much yesterday sucked, was a good idea. For some reason, every person we ran on yesterday was...well, they were just nasty. 

First, we had a wonderful-way-to-start-the-day case: the guy with chronic back pain, out of meds, wants drungs now please, oh, and also, I can't hold my bladder for anything. So here's to seven am urine, all over my cot. Awesome.

Then, we ran the wonderful call of the day: low income housing, very sick man on hospice, falls and rolls around in his own fecal matter for twelve hours before someone notices he's down. Forget possible infection, we're talking the last infection he may ever know. Antibiotics, now. No, no wait, dude doesn't think he needs a doctor to get those. Plus, he takes super good care of himself. *headdesk*

We were there for two hours. My partner, the patient man that he is, had no problem being all kind and polite and reasonable. I was reasonable, but I was also impatient, and I had no issue laying it out that this guy could die if we left him to his own devices. Eventually, good cop/bad cop worked--with a final push from bad cop that we were leaving, so he needed to decide, but really his decision was to get his ass on the cot and go--and we took him to the hospital, where I proceeded to clean every inch of our equipment because everything about his apartment and his body was just...infectious. 

Third call was a code. In an apartment the size of my fist. With sixteen firefigthers on scene. When we got there, I noticed we had a very full response, which was great to see, but SIXTEEN?! So, I politely said, "some of you guys can clear, we don't need this many people for this call." They all, each and every one, gave me the evil eye. Sixteen pairs of masculine man eyes just glaring like I'd killed their station puppy. Seriously?

About half-way through the code, one of their seniors finally cleared half off them back into service, which was nice, but I mean REALLY? I told you when it started we didn't need this many people, and I am pretty sure everyone should have agreed since our code protocol only calls for SIX. Me and my partner, a single fire crew, we're golden.

Whatever, I love the bastards anyway, even if every one of them hates me.

So, we saved her ass. Now, I have never seen ROSC before, which basically means all of my patients who have coded have died. I mean, it is cardiac arrest, folks. But, yeah, she's probably still alive today. 

It was pretty cool to watch the monitor as she came back, the rhythm jumping to v-tach, then to sinus, bradying down and beating irregular until it steadied out. Pretty interesting stuff. She was down for at least half-an-hour, though, so I doubt she'll be waking up.

After I cleaned and restocked, and my partner barely finished his report--plus, dispatch yelling at us to come out for a call even we weren't that much closer to--we hopped on over to the Salvation Army at around closing time for a BS chest pain. I mean, okay, they're closing and you don't want to go home (because you don't have one), but that doesn't warrant an ambulance ride, yo. But, whatev, I'll take anyone to the hospital. And we did. And she proceeded to actually shit her pants.

Yeah.

We were literally about to walk her into the hospital when she started sobbing--"I didn't make it!!!"

You're a grown ass woman. You, and everyone else who has been conscious and incontinent on my cot, CAN HOLD IT. Because, let me say it again, YOU ARE A GROWN ASS WOMAN.

And you don't have an excuse.

Luckily, we were not level two and could move on with our day which ended with a final refusal--from a fairly hygienic lady, naturally--and clocking out on time, thank the gods. And it was OVER. My partnership with Boomer and the day and the week.

I'll miss Boomer, he's been a really cool partner. Sad. But, I need the schedule and Bonnie is as fun as Boom. She moves a little faster at the hospitals--seriously, fifteen minute drop times, what the hell??--but I can deal.

Especially since I just made my first payment on fall semester classes. Yeah, no going back now, I put money down bitches.

So, anyway, today is my birthday. Gotten a few nice salutations and even a Starbucks gift card from Boomer and a free meal from Bonnie. Nice. Now I am eating pie on the couch after sleeping until ten. Nice.

I kind of confronted someone last night, and I am worried about the consequences.

Story:

He and I worked together, but in different departments. We were never friends--ahem, I was never friendly--until I spotted him on the same lame internet dating site I was using. Anyway, I tried to make amends and we kind of started "talking". You know what I mean. We carried on a flirtation. (There, I said it, happy?!) So, we planned to hang out, you know, to further the flirtation or whatever, but he canceled due to family matters. Okay, cool, no problem. Any guy who takes care of his family, no matter how much it sucks for him to do so, is a good guy to me. So, all forgiven. And we flirted some more. And then we made more plans, scheduled for the night before he left town for three weeks, just to grab a bottle of wine and hang out. The night before said plans, I couldn't get him to solidify them with me. The night of said plans he didn't even talk to me. And then he left town. How sweet.

So, I was pissed. And then I was unconcerned, because man can suck it anyway. And then I was chilly. And then I was upset. Now, I have to say that I invested more into the flirtation than I originally intended, but we got pretty close there to starting something up, and anyway, I'm a girl. We have girly parts and they make us do stupid girly things that we want to kill our girly selves over. BUT, I will also say that I never actually cried about anything. Just felt hurt. I don't like being walked on or treated poorly. It doesn't sit well with me, and I get a little cranky. So, I was cranky, but not crying. I just want to know, was it something I did, was it something he needed to think about, or was it no big deal and if I want to continue a relationship with this guy, do I just need to handle it better when my texts/calls go unanswered?

I mean, surely I'm not really that awful?

So, Friday night I got fed up. Fed up with his silence and fed up with myself, so I texted him "so, what the fuck, dude?"

To which he didn't reply until yesterday, which is about the time I got annoyed again. I don't know if he had no idea what I was talking about, or was just playing it off that way, but I kind of laid it on hard and I am afraid I went about it the wrong way. But, I don't actually know HOW to go about it, because I don't usually confront guys like this. I usually just let them be assholes and I move on. But, I kind of like this guy more than I would like to, and he was really sweet last night, even if he didn't really text me back that last time....

I HATE MYSELF.

I don't really know what to do or think, because I don't want to fuck anything with potential up, but I also can't go around on pins and needles wondering if I am too crazy for anyone to love. So...what the fuck, dude?

I like to consider my birthday as my own personal New Years. Mainly, because it falls in the summer and I am on a perpetual academic calendar, but also because it's a new year of my life. A whole year to be twenty-four. Aren't I lucky?

Anyway, this year I would like some things for certain:

- to get my lazy, overworked ass into shape. If Nancy thinks she can be the only sexy one with a boob job, she's got another thing coming! ;)

- to get a 4.0 this next semester. I am scared, because I haven't been full-time in six years, nor have I ever been full-time and worked sixty hour weeks on the side. But, hey, it's community college, right? Anyone can do community college. Right?

- to get my butt out of town! Seriously, Seattle or bust. I'd like this year to be the year I finally, once and for all, get out of Oklahoma. Even if I have to ride a tornado to do it.

"I don't think we're in Oklahoma anymore, Toto."

"Oh, THANK GOD."

- to have a real, adult, human relationship. Yeah, that bullshit is on my list. No worries, it's at the bottom, so that if it doesn't happen--fingers not crossed, 'cause it ain't likely--I can just snip it off at the end and no one will be the wiser. Well, except for the four of you who read this. I know who you are...watch your backs.

So, that's it. I'm another year older, another year wiser, another year closer to a miserable death. How exciting.

Now, I am going to find something frivolous to watch, eat some more pie, and hopefully have dinner with my mother tonight. Hell, live it up, right? You only turn twenty-four once!

I Don't Know What to Tell Ya