Come out wishing star. Come out, come out. Where ever you are

Catch a Falling Star

Catch a falling star an’ put it in your pocket,

Never let it fade away!

Catch a falling star an’ put it in your pocket,

Save it for a rainy day!

For love may come an' tap you on the shoulder,

Some star-less night!

Just in case you feel you wanna’ hold her,

You’ll have a pocketful of starlight!

There's a meteor shower tonight that the Jennifer Broome from channel two said I would be unable to see because of cloud coverage. Instead, I had a magical night. For a moment, I wasn't me anymore. i didn't have to be awake in 5 hours to pull on my work boots and get to work. I didn't have to worry about the laundry I hadn't folded, the dishes I hadn't washed or the bags I hadn't packed. For a moment I was in a world where the only thing that mattered were the falling stars.

I grew up with many theories.
Shooting stars were angels' tears. This made me sad. Angels shouldn't ever be sad.
Tears were hello's from the proverbial "other side" - That's creepy.
Other theories I'd heard was that shooting stars were signs that someone just came to Earth.

As a kid, I wanted nothing more than to catch one of these other-worldly splendors. I wished to be transported to another world. A world of magic.
For just that moment, I was in that world, created by the mind of 5 year-old Dibe. Full of Unicorns and Wangdoodles and other copyrighted creatures that took residence in this world.

That old song by Winnie the Pooh - Come out moon. My heart sings that out.
Come out moon Come out wishing star.
Come out, come out. Where ever you are.
I'm out here in the dark, all alone and wide awake
Come and find me.
I'm empty and I'm cold and my hearts' about to break
Come and find me
I need you to come here and find me,
cause without you I'm totally lost.
I've hung a wish on every star. It hasn't done much good so far.

Turning a new leaf.

Today I started my campaign for better health. I spent a bunch of money on healthy food. I spent an hour at the gym and I sent up an actual menu.
I'm actually pretty excited. When I changed schedules I put on weight that I had worked so hard to lose two years ago. So, now I'm back to the grind. I don't have many specific goals, other then to lose the 10lbs I put on.

At the end of this, I want more energy, I want to make all areas of my life a little less chaotic.

I guess now is a good time to drop a bomb, I'm going to Iraq. I'm going as a privately contracted EMT. I'll be on the military base catering to the men and women out yonder. It's a twelve month contract. Now I just need to wait for the Department of Defense to decide that I'm indeed safe to be around America's Finest. So in preparation, I'm learning Arabic (Thank you, Rosetta Stone!), I want to learn some popular traditional Iraqi food. International night anyone?

So, this gym is pretty awesome. So far. All one day that I've been a member. The personal trainer isn't a drill sergeant, he wasn't cruel about the busted knee. All in all, a good experience



In other news, it's Christmas season! I love the Christmas season. People are happy. People are kind. I wish the Spirit of Christmas lasted all the time. I love that. I initially thought that I would be in Iraq for Christmas, and while I don't expect a White Christmas, I'm excited to spend this Christmas with my family. Well technically, I work on Christmas Eve and Christmas day. But home enough. Maybe that's why this Christmas seems so special.




Sunday we're expecting snow and fourteen degree weather! Bring it Mother Nature, bring it! :)

فرح

Joy

There is so much going on right now. So many good, a few not so good, some sad and everything in between.

Grandpa died on September 18. Even amid all the heart ache, I can't believe the number of blessings that came from that.

On the 14th, I was working AMR 01 that day. It had been a relatively busy day. Eventually, we got toned to a psych patient, who was off his meds. Dispatch advised us that every time he's been transported before, he has been hobbled. Greeeeaaat...
Sometimes I have the ability to calm people down and somehow with this guy I worked magic I didn't possess and kept him calm the whole time. He was a doll with me.

As we dropped him off at the ER and we were walking in the door, I inwardly mocked the parking of Estes Park ambulance. Their one ambulance had managed to take up an entire ER bay. Impressive. New guy..... I thought.
Later as I walked from the patients' room, the 8 police officers that made up our motorcade offered their congratulations for having not gotten the crap kicked out of me.

I saw my favorite registration crew on, so off I went to chat with them. As I said my hellos and chatted, I noticed behind the desk was Grandma. And she looked terrified.
"Grandma, what are you doing here?" I asked.
"They brought your Grandfather in. They think he had a stroke." She said, voice shaking.

It was a challenging time. But still we were blessed.

• my supervisors were not only kind, but incredibly supportive. checking in on me, providing caffeine and meals for the family. It was incredible.
• The Hospital staff knew me, and so my family was treated with the utmost respect.
• The nursing staff was great about keeping me informed and tolerated my questions and micromanaging their medicine.
• My partner would check on me, everytime he was at the hospital
• Marshall, Katie and Olivia came to visit us. And I got to see Olivia walk. and then Mom and Dad walking like Olivia. My abs still hurt from the laughter.
• I got to use my family transport on Grandpa. That meant one less bill for Grandma
• I got to be the one to transport Grandpa.
• I got to be reconnected with family. The map on the family tree is challenging to follow, but their family.
• Usually it was Grandma and I that stayed at night. During the day, everyone else was there. Grandma always had his Right hand, and I always got his left hand at night. I'm so grateful for those nights. I'm so grateful that while Grandma slept, when everyone else went home, I got to have time.

It was tough, and it still is. But I'm grateful for those 4 days. I know those four days can't make up for a lifetime of almost no contact with family. But it was worth the shot.

Life is good. Even when it's bad.

Never giving up

There is a lot to be grateful for this month. There's a lot to be grateful every minute of every day. Even when I forget that. Even when the world forgets that. Even when I'm temporarily devestated. Or when I feel like the only reasonable thing to do is cry.

Tonight, I am particularly grateful for the statement made by Elder Jeffrey R Holland:

Don’t give up

Don’t you quit.

You keep walking.

You keep trying.

There is help and happiness ahead

–a lot of it–

You keep your chin up.

It will be all right in the end.

Trust God

and believe in good things to come.’

I forget to trust God. And I forget that there is help and happiness ahead. I forget and I hold on to my pride.

 

 

But there IS happiness ahead. And God will not lead us astray. Sometimes, I wish that all I had to do was know God. How simple is that? You can study Him in His word. Through His prophets. With inspiration from the Spirit. But then you have to DO. I'm not always good at the doing part.

 

 

So here's to the future. To the help and the happiness ahead. Here's to the good things to come.

Time to lace up my boots and DO.

November: Gratitude month

This month has the potential to be very interesting. There are a lot of possibilities around each corner that I am itching to see their outcomes. But as my life picks up, I'm reminded that this month is the month of gratitude.

My goal this month is to take a few minutes out of each day to simply be grateful.

So today, on day one.

I am grateful for my family. For my mom who enough good couldn't be said about. To name a few, the woman who worked however jobs necessary to keep me healthy and happy.
Who loved me when I was mean, when I was bratty, when I was down right difficult to love.
Who stood beside me while my life fell apart, and then picked me up again
The best praise is in the name itself "Mom." I love that lady.

My siblings. Alex and Tess. Alex who grounds me and willingly is my sounding board. Who is my all-around fix-it guy. Who lets me nerd out and still likes me. Who throws my laundry in the drier when I forget. Who that one time chased the girl away with a broom because she wanted to fight me. And Tess. Who is the other half of me. Who speaks my level of nerd and loves it. Who will understand that when I'm upset or pissed, I need ice cream and movies where zombies get violently killed. Who tolerates my incessant talking and calls me on my crap. And the honorable mention of Seth, the brother-in-law. Who at first I thought hated me. And now I truly cherish as a brother. Who cooks better then anyone I know and is good at pretty much everything he's ever tried. Ever. Who found out I had never been given flowers before, so on Valentines a few years ago, got the sister unit flowers and got me some too. I'll keep him

My Aunts and Uncles. Uncle Johnny. He and I have been buds since I was born. He's the rock, the comedian, the family wise guy, both in sarcasm and in wisdom. Who supports my crazy dreams, knowing that I need to do my own thing. Who protects me, and supports me. Who loves me, even when I'm not sure I love me. Aunt Marsha. Crazy, silly, funny, loyal. there are so many adjectives to describe her. My favorite: mine. ha. Take that world. She's MY Aunt. Wouldn't trade her for anyone. And the 90 other Aunts and Uncles (we reproduce like Mormons. Like Catholics. Like Bunny Rabbits) I love you all. Even if you didn't get your own section.

Grandfolk. Most are dead. But what gives me comfort in that, is they will be there so it's not as scary when it's my turn to walk through the veil. I miss them terribly. Grams, who I was closest with is never far from my thoughts (And really, she could speak 8 languages, and swear in 13. or something in that ball park. People wonder where my sass comes from.) Mama. Whose faith led me to consider that maybe there was something more. Who helped shape my idea of what faith meant. And living that faith. Grandpa John. Who bought me my first bike. Who always loved me, no matter how many years seperated us.
Grandma Blenda. There aren't enough words to describe her spunk. She's got the strength of an army. The love of a nation. The compassion of a saint. She is truly incredible, I am just the luckiest person to call her my grandma
Grand-dad. He lives in Spain. and he's awesome. The kind of awesome they write legends about! And I love his wife too. Tricia is British and I love when she talks.
Papa, he is a GIANT! I love that.

And the various people who have become family, even though they aren't mapped on my family tree. Who have stood beside me, who have guided me. Who have lifted me when I've been too weary to keep going. Who have caused shenanigans, mischief and tomfoolery.

I am grateful especially this year, that through the crises, through the devestation that this family has endured this year, distant relations grew stronger. Family bonds grew deeper. Through tragedies and good times and distance, we are ever learning to hold on.

Yes, today. On day one. I am grateful for one of God's greatest gifts. Our families. My family.

I'm standing outside a SNF in town and a worker comes out who must have been old enough to have taught Noah first aid.

Well, he tells me that he started working there when his wife got diagnosed with dementia so he could be with her, about 10 years ago. Doctors told him she wouldn't regain her short term memory.

He starts telling me about a time years ago. He heard on the news about his home being bombed so he signs up for the Army.

He fought hard but one day, his platoon came under heavy fire. He watched as his friends fell to the ground. He and two others survived and were taken to a POW camp. There he was beaten and starved. He dreamt of going home but feared he would never make it.

Several weeks later, he woke in a French military hospital, unsure of how he had come to be there. A nurse sat with him everyday after her shift and would explain again and again that he had suffered a severe head injury but he would probably never regain his ability to make short term memories.
One day, the nurse returned and he called her by name. Slowly he made progress and was eventually shipped to New York. He kept correspondence with his nurse when he discovered she was engaged.

The old man stopped his story there and smiled ruefully.

"I made a sorry nuisance of myself." He said as he described the first few weeks his nurse came home. "I brought flowers everyday. I called to her house almost as often."

Then he looked back at the building, "My nurse died 3 years ago. But I keep working. The day before she died, she looked me in the eye and she called me by name. Told me she was married and to remember her"

As this guy walked away, he saluted my ambulance and I asked him why "Miss, before my head injury, I was a POW and I never thought I'd see my flag again. I got my flag back, just like I had my wige back. I never pass either one without showing  proper respect."

Then he hugged me and walked away. ...

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.9

Retiring Anne Frank

"Who is Anne Frank?" 9 year old Dibe asked her mom.
"Yeah. Why does she have a book?" Dibe's friend Patricio asked.
They sat in a circle in the elementary school library, friends and parents. Dibe had just received a lack-luster book about Anne Frank.
Dibe's mom looked over at the teacher then over at the other parents, deciding to answer the second question first, and from it, a leason I never forgot.
"Anne Frank has a book," Mom explained as the whole circle stopped talking, "because somebody once said that if you don't learn from the past, you are doomed to repeat it."
A dozen confused faces returned her statement.
"A long time ago, a whole group of people were hated. And there was a man who he could fix the problem by killing them all."

I looked at the picture of the girl on the book cover, She was hardly older then me. She couldn't have done anything.

I glared at mom, "that can't be true."

Other parents chimed in, affirming that indeed it was true.

"Why?"
Questions tumbled around from the multitude of 4th graders.
Slowly the parents described the horrors of the holocaust and Anne Franks' involvement. It was a sad conversation, one I never forgot.

Well, several years later my family was going to Europe on vacation. I had two destination requests, Auschwitz death camp and the Anne Frank house in Amsterdam. At 12 years old, perhaps I was morbid. But mom refused the former, and agreed to latter.
The tour of the Anne Frank house was intense. Heart breaking and devestating. And life changing.
Mom bought me the Difinitive edition of the Diary of Anne Frank. Since then, I have read and reread the book over a dozen times.

This weekend, I went to open my book again and found the binding almost torn apart from a lot of use. So, I finally retired the book and decided to replace it with the edition I've been eye balling since 2003, the Revised Critical edition. To say I'm excited for its arrival would be an understatement. Yes, I am a nerd

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.9

picture update!

See some things I've been up to!

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.9

It's been a while, here's a list of things that have happened lately.
• Got home from Mexico
• bought a car! (08 suby forrester)
• slept on a bus
• snuck onto a train
• slept in a train station
• switched to a 12 hour shift
• survived weekend number one of cu students being back.
• decided to write the stories I grew up with to get them published
• ran 2 more 5ks, the AIDs memorial and GetDrenched.
• started training to run a half marathon... yikes!
• got asked to be a bridesmaid in Lance's and Kristen's wedding!
• lived in Loveland, Longmont, Westminister
• read some books
• said goodbye to Joe, who went to be with his family up northward
• worked with some fun people
• met some cool people
• changed a tire of a stranded family. By myself. In a white skirt. Without it getting trashed!

It's been an... eventful few weeks!

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.6

Happy

I wont spend too much time here, because there is a teenage girl who is shooting daggers at me, silently demanding use of the internet. Fortunately, the language barrier prevents a polite asking.

I managed to lose my passport this morning, well, sometime between Saturday and today. So. I am now in a hostel in Cancun, near Kilometer 0. I am not dead. Or kidnapped. Both bonuses. I am however, going to lose about 80 lbs in water weight. Or gain 80 lbs in water weight. Whew. Sweating bullets without AC, and drinking bottled water by the gallon. As soon as Im home, I will retell the adventure of today, but suffice it to say, it HAS been an adventure.

Mexico has been an adventure.
I got to witness the most beautiful sister get married to the best man out there.
I got to travel and room with Katie, who is one of my favorite people. Ever.
I held a monkey. While that could be considered a euphamism. It isnt. I held a primate. It was cute.
I went to a Vegas style night club where we danced on the bar for 2 hours.
We snorkeled.
We ate food.
We did things, we saw stuff.
I lost a passport.
We ordered room service!
Some drunk, toothless meth head tried to kiss me.
My spanish has improved. Marginally. Mostly my pronunciations have improved.
I left the world of drama and troubles behind and enjoyed sand and beaches and good times and great company.
I managed to stop the resort from kicking the wedding party out before the wedding after some illegal dolphin time.
We saw lots of live critters. Geckos. Lizards. Fish, turtles, crabs (the antibiotic clearing kind and otherwise)
We rode public transportation
We bartered in the flea market
We danced
We met the fire department and an ambulance crew. That was stinking awesome.
Life is good.
God is great, Beer is Good, People are crazy. Amen.

Alright, I could get shanked, time to go explore downtown cancun at night!

Hopefully tomorrow Homeland Security will decide that I am not a threat to national security and let me back in the country. If not... I can dig staying here longer.

I ran in Color!

What a weekend. What a month. As always, life has been a little crazy. (Read as, a lot crazy). True to normalcy for me, there's been drama and fun and shenanigans. I've lost friends and I've made friends. And I procured a place to live. Yay!

On Saturday, Kristen and I decided to run a 5k. Technically we decided a while ago, but the run was on Saturday. And holy wow. This was the Color Run. Proceeds go to The Children's Hospital in Denver. Volunteers throw colored cornstarch at you and you run. It's stinking awesome. Well, my training consisted of, eating junk food. Running when I wasn't too lazy (which really means I ran a total of twice. Yikes) and ignoring the training plan I had taped to my mirror. Then it hit. Tomorrow's the race! Blast... I hadn't trained, even a little bit. Still, I packed my bags to go crash at Kristen's and I was ready to go. Morning came. I was sure I'd end the race on a stretcher. Still, I was willing. Once at the start line, I knew it was time. I had my goals, •Run at least one full mile • Finish in less then an hour • Don't need the paramedics. I am happy to report that I ran, not only a full mile but I ran (read as quickly shuffled) 3.5 miles without stopping. My finish time was 42:06. And the only paramedic involved was Lance, who came to support us. Success! And a week later, still Q-tipping blue out of my ears. Attractive. Life otherwise has been interesting. I am grateful today.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

Girl's night, flowers and health fairs

Ah, life. As always, never dull and never boring. Story of life. On Friday we had a massive throw back night. Dave and Busters for Jenna's birthday (which, let's face it, that's just an adult version of Chuck E Cheese's) and then an old fashioned slumber party. Complete with cookie dough, talking about boys and those horrible Squeez its. (Sugar water... yum....) It was awesome. We stayed up late. We laughed and giggled. We had a ball. I thought it would be a great idea to pick up a shift the next day. So, after "galavanting and performing acts of general tomfoolery, it was 2am, and I needed to be up in 3 short hours. Try as I might, sleep was elusive. I forgot to leave a forwarding address for the Sandman. At 430, my feet were ready to start moving. So off I went, ending the best slumber party I've been a part of!

Off I drove, out of the sunrise and into the easiest 8 hour overtime shift ever. 9news health fair where they had sufficient phlebotomists. So my companero and I sat and talked for 8 hours. It was brilliant!

That night was the blood draw car. Eventful? Yeah, you could say that. I played at city dispatch, stuck a couple of people, then, true to Dibe-form, locked "myself out of the ambulance and my keys inside said ambulance. As I shut the door, a sinking feeling sickened me... in the ignition sat the only keys. And the door was locked.

Oh no... try to break in, or blood draw? Try to break in... or blood draw?! Blood draw... so I draw the blood, fill out the paperwork.

"So...." I say in my oh-so-calm voice. "Hypothetically speaking, for no reason at all, how are you at breaking into cars?"

Officer *sighs* Am I going to have to arrest you?

"It depends on your answer to me...." (intimidating!!)

"Uh....." *unintimidated*

"Okay listen, I locked myself out of my ambulance... can you get me back in?" I smile. I bat my eyelashes. I give up in resignation.

Nothing.

"Do you have a car kit?" I ask the officer I draw for the most. Nothing.

And so my questioning continued. Not one cop in the entire jail had a slim jim!

I stood at the ambulance door. Do I break a window? Do I walk back to the station?

A new officer walks by.

"Hey!" I hollar. "Do you have a cell phone I can borrow?"

The officer gives me the once over. Deciding that I'm friend, not foe, he hands me the phone just as I realize. I don't know the number to dispatch.... blast. I call the Springs dispatch, the number that used to be Denver's number.

"Thank you for calling. Where is your emergency?" The voice says to me.

"Hey Mike, this is Dibe from the Boulder division. Can you patch me over to Boulder?"

"Sorry, our system can't do that." He apologizes.

"Okay... I need you to do me a huge favor... Can you call Boulder dispatch, tell the dispatcher (who happens to be one of my best friends) and tell him that he has a crew member locked out of the ambulance at the county jail."

I hang up, hand the phone back and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Colorado State Patrol wanders by. No slim jim. Lafayette PD. Nothing. Sheriff? No sir. Boulder PD, negative. And then the Cavlery arrives! Another crew!

"Bad news... A back up key doesn't exist."

Blast

So. 6 cops, 2 crews and shenanigans later. I finally got back in.

My life is anything but dull.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.4

I get a little bit Stronger

Life takes a bunch of crazy turns. Some you expect, like a mission. Some you don't, like PTSD. But all inevitably will lead you through this life. Right?

I am abundantly blessed. And just like that song "Stronger" (Sara Evans?) Even on my weakest day, I get a little bit stronger.

Work has been a never ending ball of chaos and ridiculousness. I mean really. Full of crazy. No seriously, between a paranoid schizophrenic who liked to talk to the voices and sing songs, to the teenager who enjoyed the taste of writing utensils and thus had a strong fascination of swallowing them. Whole. Strange. Otherwise, work has been just dandy. My partner is stinking hilarious, which makes my life easier. It's a lot nicer working 48 hour shifts when I don't hate my partner. I've been blessed with all 3 of my 48-hour shift partners. My supervisors have been inordinately kind to me lately. I wonder whether or not this is a ploy to be kind before they can me for something. Yikes.

The Winstons were kind enough to give me a bike! It's so much lighter than my current bike. It's also a giant bike. For a small Dibe, that makes things a little challenging. I mean, the seat can down sufficiently, however, the seat to handle bar distance is a little farther than I can usually handle. Ha ha. Get it.... Yeah... It's great going down the hill on South Boulder, I feel like I'm flying. Yikes! And awesome.

I've been working hard on preparing for a mission, which seems to be extraordinarily more and more difficult. Between finances and getting my brain shrunk, it's been a ride. I'm ready to get on the road, I'm ready to get in the field. Which frankly, is a foreign feeling for me. To go from "I don't want to go" to "I'll  go...I guess" to "Alright, get me out there!" All the while, being stuck with "this is a baaaaad idea!!!" But here we are, a few months out, and I'm ready to go.

I've been toying with the idea of sharing more of the deep stuff around here. I have a paper journal, that I write in almost daily. But on the other hand, I wonder what it would be like to just be honest. Not my version of honesty where I tell people what they want to hear, or what I assume they want to hear. Not the version of honesty where it's sunshine and daisies all the time. But the real stuff. The hard stuff. I am ambivalent, simply because to put my thoughts out there is far more vulnerability than I ever allow myself. Always in control all the time. That's how I live. But then I think about how I've looked to the internet for answers for my problems. Like when I was told that I have PTSD. My first stop, Interwebs. Blogs. I wanted to read about others and their ideas, their thoughts. I wanted to know that I wasn't the only person fighting this stupid disorder. I did what any red-blooded 21st century brat would do. I googled. I traipsed through countless blogs written by combat soldiers, by childhood abuse survivors, by assault and rape survivors, and I'm struck that I'm not fighting this alone. While I may not be ready to tell the world my story. Because really, my story is still mine. Still something that I don't know how to pull out. Something I'm not willing to pull out yet. But, I'm not afraid right now. I'm not afraid to admit the truth. I have PTSD and I go to counseling. And eventually, I won't be broken anymore. So, you know what, world? Deal with it.This time is now my time. To heal. To grow. and I am so ready for it.

The Rocky Mountains disappearing in the night, classical music wafting through the air. Stories of untold splendor. That is the Music of the Night.

ENGAGED! Only not really.

(1/6) Sitting out at the pool with Tessa, reading an American classic (The Three Musketeers) and enjoying the 80's weather. I sure can't ask for much more.
Life has been, as always, a bit crazy. I've been filling my days with lesson plans that range from topics like Sustaining those whom the Lord sustains to Pediatric Medical Emergencies for the BLS provider. Then of course, there's work itself, where no day is ever a dull day. Why in fact, let me share the good news. I am engaged!
But Dibe, you've not been dating anyone! you might be thinking to yourself.
Right-o. But with an offer like this, how could a girl refuse. Let me introduce you to my fiancee.

We met on an 80 degree afternoon, he sat on a bench just outside of the gas station with 'Mary'.
"She ain't my girl friend!" He assures me, endearing himself to me more than his improper use of english, with a drunken wink. "It's not like I sleep with her!"

Whew, dodged a bullet with that! Wouldn't want a fella who's already sleeping with a gal. A gal who 'ain't his sister'. Or with a gal who is.... I suppose the latter is the most frightening. But I digress.

We began our courtship with the usual dialogue, you know things like,
"Why have you called me here today?" and "What seems to be the problem?"
His ever coy response of, "I done drank too much, and I have the chest pains again." This, my friends, is the start of something lasting, I'm sure.

"Well, why don't we get you out of a here." I smile, typical pick-me-up.
My new fiancee, he doesn't conform to social norms. Oh no. In 84 degree weather, he's wearing 8 layers. And showering? That's a ploy from the man to dictate our lives. He doesn't listen to the man. And who can blame him, really? I wouldn't call my fiancee stinky... He just has the aroma of Boulder.

"Sorry bud, the layers have to go. You see, our ambulance, well, it's a lot like menopause. It's either too hot in the summer, or too cold in the winter. With nothing in between."
He chuckles as he removed 4 sweaters and 3 pairs of pants. "Turn on the AC, then!" He suggests, slurring his words for effect.
I slide the side window open and turn to meet his bewildered stare. "What? We're from Boulder, we don't believe in air conditioning. That destroys the environment!" My fiancee glares.
Our first fight. I rush to make amends.
"How about this, we get you to the hospital, THEY have AC!" He ponders for a moment
"Okay, that's probably best."
We tie up some loose ends, and I start driving. As we pull in, I hear my husband-to-be commenting about women drivers. This could be a real source of contention for us, but I let it go. It's all about compromising, right?
"So" he slurs slowly as we pull the wheeled bed he's laying on toward the doors of the hospital. "Are you married?" Ahh, that creepy wink I love so much...

"No sir." I respond, holding my breath (anticipation, not the lack of ability to breath in the confined space with a boulderite)
"Do you want to be?" Wink.
"Are you proposing?" I ask, nonchalantly, I'm sure.
"You betcha!"

I pause.
"Did I just hear right? Are congratulations in order?!" My buddy and coworker asks as he climbs out of his ambulance when we walk by.
"Apparently!"
"You couldn't have picked a better guy!" My buddy tells me. "And you picked the right girl." He tells my fiancee.
"Hey, she's pretty." My fiancee says.

So there you have it. I'm engaged to a man who may not remember he proposed, but it's okay. He thinks I'm pretty.

What a bizarre couple of days it has been. I had just been told by a buddy of mine that I don't accept compliments well. I tried to explain that it was because of my personality. I am a kidder. A joker. Full of shenanigans if you will. Compliments don't come my way very often, because I rarely have a serious enough conversation to warrant one. And that's fine. I don't need compliments, and typically, I don't want them nor do I particularly like them, they make me feel weird.

Everyday since then, I have received one compliment or another. My theory is God's messing with me. Ha. Joke's on me this time! 90% of those compliments have come from intoxicated parties or someone coming out of sedation. Of course.

Everything else is going swimmingly. I've picked up my soda habit again, because it's either that or Meth. These 48 hour shifts without sleeping, yeah they're killing me slowly. Unfortunately, I've also picked up about 6 pounds from my soda drinking. I only drink it on shift, but I drink enough to cause heart palpitations and arrhythmias in full grown men.
Time to really get serious about my calorie intake and working out again. Which is cool, that's one of the few things that I really have a good amount of control of in my life. Time to put some order back in. Been to the gym every day this week. And not just to watch the TVs that they have there!
Woohoo!

Not much else is happening, I saw a movie, Antwone Fisher. I recommend it. I think. It's tough to watch. I almost cried. So if you're one of those who cries at movies, better have a box of kleenex handy. You'll need it.

I finally read The Help. What an incredible story. I think about my family. Years ago, I was given some family history information, and one thing I received was a Last Will and Testament. This was from a family from Illinois (I think) and they had slaves. I remember at 12 or 13 being sick at heart. How could they have had slaves? How could they have disregarded human lives. And then I wondered if my ancestors were rolling over in their graves when they thought of me, their namesake, standing up for the things that I stand up for.
I remember being extraordinarily grateful for a mom who taught me to love everyone, and to leave nobody out. I was grateful for my Grams, who in the late 50's had dated an African American boy (man. I don't know how old they were) and how she was the greatest example of caring about the person.
All in all, I'm grateful to be alive now. I'm happy to have to deal with the Mayan's end of the world, rather than that racism. Sure, we still have fights we're fighting now, but I'm hopeful that equality and humanity and compassion will win.


This weekend is General Conference. I'm thrilled to get to hear the voice of the Prophets. I'm excited to hear what they have to say. What they have to advise us. Yep. So excited. Also, I have the weekend off. WOOHOO! Who's excited? This girl!

Lastly, I broke my computer. Sad. I know, but I don't have the money to replace or repair it. Blast it! I already feel disconnected with the world and it's kind of driving me to distraction!

Royal Arch!

This weekend we finally had some nice weather. With promises of temperatures in the 70's, blue skies and little wind, an adventure to the mountains was in order. But where to hike, we wondered. Easy, the best hike in chatauqua, Royal Arch!

"I should warn you, there will probably be ice." One of our stalwart hikers, Keagan warned. 

uh... Did I hear you correctly? Ice? Me? Yipes!

And off we continued. 4 of us. Allison, Dan Keagan and myself. We were ready. ... sorta. 

We met at the ever early hour of 0800 and drove to the trail head. Up and up we went. We climbed and climbed. And then, there it was. The ice. A lots of it. We slipped and slid and scurried up the mountain, clinging desperately to rocks, trees and roots to shimmy our ways to the Arch. 

And the mountain was winning. 

At one particularly terrifying portion, the trail seemed vertical with no visible footing and sheer ice. About 20 yards below, the boys had stopped at a cave to explore and talk about... caves? I'm not sure. To enjoy some man-moments. Allison and I decided to continue and let them catch up. Ha. 

Allison, who is much more sure footed, much less clumsy, opted to be the leader. And I would follow. 

"Dibe, there are NO foot holds. There's no footing at all!" She warned as she clung to the rock beside us. 

"We got this..." I gasped, praying I wouldn't fall and slide to my death. I took another step and my left foot slid. I reached to grab something. I grabbed ice. Basically useless. I went down. Hard. With about 40 feet we had already ascended, I knew I was in for a ride. Particularly because if I continued in the trajectory my body was hurtling, I would go right off the side of the trail, and down the side of the mountain. 

A shriek, comparable to that of a banshee, erupted from my mouth and I flipped myself over onto my back. I dug my left heel into the snow, slowing my left side down and shoved with my right hand to straighten my fall. Success! 

Oh... crap... right into the path of rocks. Rocks barely covered by ice and snow. This was going to hurt. I tried to relax, (think, floppy fish) as I hit the first rock. When I bounced, hard, I switched tactics. protect the head! The bounce did it, I slowed considerably until I was at the bottom of this rocky ice slide. 

"Dibe!" Allison shouted from her precarious perch halfway up this slide. "Say something. Let me know you're not dead!"

I lay there mentally assessing my injuries. Head? uninjured. Neck? just fine. Back? May end up peeing blood, but spine alright. knees? ow. Overall, alright! I looked up and saw the boys sprinting up and slowly sat up, wiping tears from my eyes. "I'm okay!" 

After a few moments of recollecting, off we continued again. Finally, we reached the top! Slowly, but we made it! 

 Keagan and the Arch

Boulder!

Goooorgeous

Dibe and Dan. Dan is giant, Dibe is not

pretty

As we rested, we chatted. We chatted with each other, we sat and just enjoyed the view. We chatted with some other hikers. One fella, sitting above us said:

"I don't mean to eavesdrop, but are you guys from the CU ward in Boulder?" He asked timidly. 

"We are indeed!" We replied

"That's awesome, I got married out of that ward in 2003" He told us. And we chatted. Finally, it was time to descend. Dan, the adventurer that he is, decided to scout out a new trail, one less icy. With promises to return, we sat and basked in the sun and the warmth. 30 minutes later, no Dan. 45 minutes later, several texts and phone calls. No Dan. 

"We better go after him" We decided, hoping not to find a broken Dan. So we went trail blazing. Down steep litter-layered earth. Surrounded by Cacti, possible poison ivy and who knows what else. Danger Will Robinson. Danger!! 

Finally, we made it. We climbed down this: 

 Icy rock wall. you can see my head at the very bottom. YIPES

We made it down to the Mesa trail and hiked back to Chautauqua, where we found Dan working on homework. Survival!!! 

Those boys sure earned man moments by getting us down the mountain (and up for that matter) without serious bodily harm!!!

In other news, this is what I got to deal with this shift, like my partner says: Welp... Can't fix stupid.

9 car accident

Honorary text of the blog today:

Him: We ran 9 calls all together... 1 dog food on fire... 

Me: dog food on fire?!

Him: Oven on... dog food next to oven... smoldering... When they made entry small dog with small dog complex came bolting out of the apartment building and latched on big dogs back leg and wouldn't let go... cop almost tased little dog... be like you latching on (in an angry kinda way) to Ryan's leg and poor big dog was sad and scared and like what the flip.

Nothing like bursting out in the kind of laughing that makes you cry on public transportation. I'm cool (read as, I'm full of shenanigans!) 

Next week on the ambulance is St. Patrick's day. We plan to be Irish all day, and having Corned Beef and Cabbage. Be ready City of Boulder. Ready or not, here we come!

The truth about partners: starting anew

So, the new guy (who has earned a name around here, it's Ryan, for all who are curious) and I are going to work out, I'm thinking.
Mostly because he is hilarious! We laugh, we rock out to shenanigan music, we amuse PD when we do our legal blood draws. We are C -shifts 10p to 6a status 1 posting fiend! Meaning when one of the other cars go save a life, we go and protect their home base from robbers, thieves and thugs. (Read as, we park in the same vicinity as their home base, ignore all hooligan-like people, turn off the lights and sleep.)

Importantly, we are noticing where our strengths are as a partnership and where we have to opportunity to improve.

 Example: We are great at coaxing people who don't want to go, but who need to go to the hospital to buck up and come with us.

We are greatly improving our scene times.


Also, I knew he must be a keeper when he was welcomed to the shift with an all-out nerf war, and he didn't turn tail and run for it. Welcome partner!
Here's to plenty of shenanigan music, middle of the intersection dance parties, and a some tomfoolery!

Trust. yikes

I feel like in every direction, my ability to trust has been attacked. Well, just questioned. I am an extremely private person. My problems are just that, MY problems, something that nobody else need hear about. And that's always been fine, that's always been me. Determined to be a lifter and not a leaner. Until I acknowledged that I don't trust people. 
It's not that I don't LIKE them, I genuinely love people and genuinely like people, but I've learned that you can do that without trusting them. I am a master of pushing people away. In a way that they don't realize they're being pushed away. They just know that they aren't close to me. I guess there are people out there who say I come across and snobby and rude. For that, I apologize, I never thought that that's how it would come across. 
I've described it before, most people throw up walls to protect them. I built walls, and then a fortress, and surrounding that is a crocodile-filled mote (with a black night for good measure), and surrounding that is a giant field full of land mines and other obstacles to discourage anyone and everyone to WANT to get close. I haven't wanted to even consider getting across these defenses. I was happy in my fortress. Or rather, I was safe. Then I caught a glimpse of real life. And fortress life wasn't enough anymore. I dreamt of days outside those walls. Where people could see me and things would be swell. But I himed and hawed and decided I knew where it was safest.


Then I decided I really wanted to be out and about in the world. But by then, I didn't know how to start. I've pushed people away so long, that most people just stay away now. Can you blame them? I can't. It's like the friend you constantly ask to hang out and they always say no, so finally you just stop asking. People have finally stopped asking. And that's fine, I made my bed, now I either have to lie in it, or change it. 


But that requires trust. A trait I do not possess naturally. To trust people enough to be vulnerable is really kind of terrifying. If I give someone else my heart, I have to trust that they aren't just going to rip me up. Chew me up and spit me back out. Scary? I think yes. Especially since I don't know if I've ever actually trusted someone with that before. But, when the Spirit speaks (or if it's a 2X4 moment ***) you kinda gotta listen. And that's when I realized that I wasn't limiting that trust to people. I guess I figured that if I was going to be proud and stubborn, I would make it count. 


Being an adult and recognizing these things and knowing I have to fix it, if I want it fixed... I wouldn't have thought myself mature enough for that. 


Quote from Evan Almighty


Let me ask you something. If someone prays for patience, you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If he prayed for courage, does God give him courage, or does he give him opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for the family to be closer, do you think God zaps them with warm fuzzy feelings, or does he give them opportunities to love each other? 






When I've asked to Trust, I expected to feel trusting. But now I get it. I'm being given the opportunity to trust.


Lead Kindly Light


Lead Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom
Lead thou me on
The night is dark and I am far from home
Lead thou me on
Keep thou my feet I do not ask to see
The distant scene, one step enough for me


I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou
Shouldst lead me on
I loved to choose and see my path; but now
Lead thou me on
I loved the garish day, and spite of fears
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years.


So long thy power hath blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till the night is gone
And with the morn those angel faces smile
Which I have loved long since and lost a while




Man, this song should have a dedication: Written for Dibe Hall - who needs to swallow some pride. 
You see, I don't give up control. Ever. For anything. 
Every situation. Every day. Every moment, I need to be in control. Who knows best to protect me, than me? It's my job to protect me and to keep me happy. Nobody else's. But the thing is, I don't know best. This world is full of darkness. I am not the light. The Light is Christ. HE knows what's best. So why have I tried to take control from Him? That's just silly. He knows best. 


I sense a lot of change coming. And I feel like it's going to hurt. But the night IS dark, and I am far from home. But He will lead me on, if I just stop and let Him. 


I like to see all the answers. All the steps. But you know what. One step is enough.


Proverbs 3:5-6


Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thin own understanding
In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.


So - be patient. I'm learning. I mean it when I say I've never done this before. So i'm not really sure how this works. Patience and understanding (and a healthy dose of extra loving) would be great!

The end of an era

Me: Ahhhh, best season of all!
Buddy: *looking horrified* you hate the snow. And the cold
Me: Oh, I do. *distastefully glares at the 16 inches of snow outside*
Buddy: So why is this the best season of all?
Me: Oh. No. Not winter... Girl Scout Cookie Season!


Today at 7:01, (okay, so more like 0730) Lance and I finally transitioned from partner-friends to real-life friends. Bittersweet. Truly. When you have someone as a sounding board, as your partner in crime, your confidante, they become, in many ways, more than family. The dynamics of a partnership are hard to explain. Because when you explain something with "oh well he's my partner." If the person you're talking to doesn't know. They don't get it. no matter how hard to try to explain.

Let me try to pull the curtains back on this one. It's important to understand these dynamics to really understand why a partner change is a tough pill to swallow. And of course, this is all contingent on if your partner and you jive.

Imagine, if you will.
You are having a really rough day. You've been up for 26 hours, you've only eaten food the hospitals have in their meager lounges (stale chips, another ham sandwich on soggy bread and if you're lucky, some apple juice), you've been berated by nurses for being too early, too late, just on time (but they were expecting way late or way early). Your patients have verbally assaulted you. Family members of patients have barked orders at you, cried, screamed, and in some cases, required your attention as well. And all through this, you have to remain cheerful, professional and understanding. You look at your partner and roll your eyes, knowing that they know what that eye roll meant. "If she doesn't stop talking, I'm going to blast polka music the whole way to the ER." or "If I don't get some real food soon, I may become homicidal."
Your partner and you get so close that your partner knows to keep talking to you, lest you fall asleep driving on your 6th blood draw of the night.
When all hell has broken loose, when a patient is actively dying, you and your partner have to become the same person, in 2 bodies. Able to function for the other person in the space that no other profession would work in. Always 2 steps ahead of the step you're on, to know what the other person is going to need.

Your partner knows you well enough to know when to pry, and when to let you silently cry. They know when to let you vent, and when to plot revenge with you.

Now imagine you've just seen some of the worst things you can imagine. The kind of thing that normal people would never be able to stomach, and having to get up and do it again tomorrow. The kind of thing that can literally break a person. And know that you can't tell the people at home, because you have to protect them. So when you go home and your family asks how your shift was, you tell them simply "It was fine." Your partner is the one who understands that. Who knows what you went through, because he was right there next to you. Watching the woman die. Explaining to that wife that her husband of 50 years is dead. Dreading the report and explaining all the bruises you saw on the 7 year old. They become your therapist. Often those relationships are described as work marriages. You fight like an old married couple, because after a year and a half, you've been through more together, than many marriages will see in a lifetime. You know exactly what buttons to push to annoy the other, and exactly how to make them laugh.
The bond between a good partnership is hard to describe, because there's really nothing else like it.
Your lives intertwine so much. Lance's girl friend, one of my very best friends. His whole family knows me. And my family all knows him.

So, while I'm super excited for Lance, it's sad to see that go. Because we won't be the same person anymore. He's going to Golden. He'll have his own calls. A whole new partner, and new adventures. It's hard to see that go. He's more than just my friend, he's my partner. A brother.
Strangely, I'm not panicky like I thought I would be. I don't handle change well. I don't like when things get different on me. It makes me feel like I'm losing control of my life.

But this time. I'm not panicked. I'm excited for some change. I'm excited for the future. That in and of itself kind of freaks me out, I'm not that mature. I him and haw at anything new and gripe about it. So to be excited. Wow. Weird. But, anyway, here's to the future.

My new partner is a giant! Lance and I had him for a day in training. He brought with him the 3rd rider cloud. Which meant, no calls for 12 hours. It was glorious. But I got along with him really well personally. He's a giant! Like 9 feet tall or something like that (9 feet really means something like 6'5" or something equally tall) I don't know what it is with putting me with giant medics. But it seems like I will be Mutt and Jeff again. Time to break out those comics again. Lifting will prove to be a challenge, I see us getting really close to fire, really quickly.

As they say, when God shuts a window, He opens a door. 

I wouldn't trade the last 18 months for anything. I've learned so much about life, about medicine and about myself. Like saying hello to police officers on the PA, and watching them climb halfway out of their window to wave back. at 2 in the morning. 

Taking command of a fire, as an ambulance isn't necessarily a good idea, but having a size-up with "serious flammage" would produce free dinner for... forever. 

Dibe's can be measured by the Broslow tape... 

Don't click the mic when you're talking about going emergent to Childrens'. 

"Welcome back guy" was a nice guy. We miss him. But niner guy is pretty hilarious too. 

Random dance parties at city intersections (and people wonder why we got a long so well)

Lance is the nice one, I'm the intimidating one. 

During the C0R, get rid of extra noise... 

Never leave your phone unattended and unlocked!

I can't fully describe how grateful I am for the last 18 months. For the friendship I've built and the color that's been added. From K*Love to Blink 182. From Shenanigan music (you know you loved it, Lance) to Sunshine matches. Avista command and 3 day vacations of coloring. One of the big things I've learned in the last 18 months, that my partner was an example of: Adversity, if handled correctly, can be a blessing in our lives. We can learn to love it.

So here's to the future. Come what may, and I'll love it. 

Rule number 1, Cardio

I've decided to step up my game! Which really means just to knuckle down and take care of myself.

Two days in, I've run! Yesterday was 2.75 miles on the elliptical, and then today with Sue, a mile at the Davidson Mesa Trail. Everything is pretty sore from my workout yesterday. My calves and my shoulders especially. But nothing compared to Crossfit days. Those sucked. (PS. Don't ever do Bulgarian squats. They were designed for torture. 3 days later, I could still barely move)

I don't necessarily have a goal weight loss. I just want to be able to lift people into my ambulance better, and my goal is to run a 5k this year. and it's nice to have the motivation of not wanting to wump out, and not wasting someone else's time. So. I dig that.

Also, when the Zombie apocalypse happens (Mayan Calender anyone? It's happening), I would like to survive, thanks to my newly acquired ability to frolic like a Gazelle. 

So far, my favorite part of running is getting to come home and take a nap. Which, of course, I live for!

Strong enough

Strong enough

I know I'm not strong enough to be
everything that I'm supposed to be
I give up
I'm not strong enough

~~~~~
I'm not strong enough. I never will be. I act tough. I talk a big game. I am independent. I am stubborn. I am weak.
~~~~~~
I am broken
Down to nothing
But I'm still holding on to the one thing
You are God
And you are strong enough.
~~~~~~

The Savior promises to be there, He is strong enough. and after I do all that I can do, He'll make up the rest.
I don't have to be strong enough.

Blessings

He could calm a storm and heal the blind 
And I bet he'd understand a heart like mine






How grateful I am for a Savior who truly does understand a heart like mine. Who knows me way better than I know me. I experienced one of the neatest experiences with work this last week.


Dispatch: Medic 6 for a medical. RP reports that her baby is dying. 

Us: Medic 6 copy, en route. 

Dispatch: Medic 6, for update. CPR is in progress. 

(About here, we get nervous. Nobody likes to deal with kids. Especially dying kids)

Medic 6: Copy update. 

Dispatch 4 minutes or so later: Medic 6 for additional. PD is on scene. Baby is crying. 

Giant sigh of relief is felt through the city. 

Medic 6: Communications, Medic 6 is on scene. 

Lance heads in with one kit, while I grab the rest of the equipment to deal with a possible dead baby. As I walk into the room, I hear a screaming child. (yay!) note 4 younger children and dad crowding around my partner, 3 firemen and a police officer. Lance looks at me, points at me, than at Dad and says simply and succinctly, "Spanish, go!"

I took that to mean that we had no information as to what had happened. My mind was completely empty. Then all of a sudden he and I were carrying on a conversation. One that I was able to follow! I knew what he was saying to me, with no idea what it was that I was saying to him. I've heard of those kinds of blessings occurring to missionaries, and I was floored. I had just received a moment of being blessed with the ability to understand a different tongue!! 

In case you're wondering, baby wasn't dead. We think he choked a little. But he was okay. Very cute baby. 

What a blessing!

2012, what?!

Thanks Danny for this idea!
These are not goals for 2012, this is what is going to happen. But written past tense, because it's happened in my mind already, now it's time to translate it to outside my head. 2012 is going to be good!

Here's what went down in 2012 for me:

• I figured out, once and for all, who I am and where I belong
• I went on a date with a guy who didn't leave me in Denver, in the middle of a blizzard, and you know what? I had a good time!
• I felt prepared before I gave a lesson, and left it feeling confident. 
• I made more friends than I lost touch with
• I mattered to someone
• I made a difference to someone
• I can actually remember serving someone
• My testimony grew
• We caught a baby at work, and didn't drop it!
• I grew a pair, and finally told him how I feel. 
• I wrote a story and finished it! 
• I decided what I want for my future
• I laughed a lot, and smiled even more. 
• I worked hard
• I ran a 5k! 
• I didn't break a single bone.
• I didn't hurt anyone maliciously
• I sang to more than just my handle bars. 
• I trusted more and loved more
• I magnified my callings and was someone that could be relied on. 
• I stood as an example of the believers. 
• I became the master of my thoughts, and through that, became ever more positive and optimistic. 
• I became the most optimistic and friendly person I could be. 
• I loved 2012

Dibe: 3 parts shenanigans, 1 part tazer-crazed

Random tidbits from the short one:

Me (what the text was supposed to say): Sorry for being a crab yesterday. 

Me (what the text actually said): Sorry for being a Arab yesterday

Fail...
(This will result in you receiving a Qur'an for your birthday. Just so we're clear! haha.

***

Local FD: We're onscene, and we'll take Big Daddy Command.
Dispatch: Alright, I have you as (snicker, snicker) Big Daddy [awkward pause] command.
Lance and Dibe: /bust a gut laughing

***

***

How can you not love stickers on produce that encourage shenanigans and fun?! I dig that, even if I don't like to eat bananas

***

Tess and I, in November, went to a Murder Mystery dinner - We convinced our table that we were Taxidermists. Well, they couldn't tell which was true, EMTs (too glamorous) or taxidermists (too weird)
Clearly, we can't be trusted.

***

Birthday present to me, a creepy hand print in my picture!!! Thanks sister!

***

I almost had to ride my bike to work in this. I am a lucky lady - my partner came to the rescue! Thanks Lance!

Go listen to the song, Watch the Lamb!