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.

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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.

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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!