The other night my crew and I were invited to take part in a ceremony at work honoring the garbageman who performed CPR on a man in cardiac arrest. (I wrote about it in a previous blog.) By the time we had transported the man to the ER he had pulses back so it was what we call a "code save". Over 90% of the time that means that we deliver them 'alive' but they die in hospital from the initial event or the many complications that arise from suffering cardiac arrest. However, once or twice in a career you get the chance to meet someone on whom you have performed CPR. The first time this happened for me was about 10 years ago. We had been called to a local YMCA gymnasium. Someone had collapsed playing basketball. My crew was second in on that one. We helped package and transport. A year later the man came by with his family to say thank you. Let me tell you it is quite a moment when you are looking the family in the eye and they are so grateful at their second chance in life!
Now, as I said, the ceremony was for the young garbageman who performed CPR. I had not seen his face because when we switched over and I took over doing compressions for him I only saw his back. From that point on I was 'a little busy' and so only learned who he was much later. Well, the man who had suffered cardiac arrest not only lived to get to the ER - he walked out of the hospital on his own! From what Eric, (the garbageman) told me, there had been one cardiac artery that was 98% occluded and another that was 90% occluded. Now he was home recuperating with a good chance at living a normal life. One of my crew told me that the family had come by the station to say thanks (though I was not at my station that day as I was Acting BC so assigned to a different station). There is a real satisfaction at experiencing this kind of outcome even though it is so rare. Now my second time in nearly 28 years of involvement with the Fire service...and a lot of CPR done in that time. It is all down to how quickly someone starts effective compressions after the arrest occurs. Do you know CPR? You could save a life if you do.
Thursday, 17 May 2012
Monday, 7 May 2012
I see dead people...
Yesterday I pulled a shift at a station different than my own. I am a Hazardous Materials Technician and the station that houses our techs was one short. So I was 'detailed' to fill that spot. It was a beautiful warm, sunny day; quite a bit different from the cloudy rainy patch through which we in the NW were slogging. After a call around 2 p.m. we discovered that we were going to have to go to the station in which I usually work to conduct a tour. After the tour we returned to the Haz-Mat station via a circuitous route. It was while we were returning that we were called to a MVC involving a motorcycle and a car. The initial report was that CPR was being performed on the motorcyclist. We were not first on scene but we made the scene and supported the first in crews in their CPR efforts. Sadly the cyclist was DRT (dead right there) and all resuscitation efforts were stopped. Now, every FF will tell you they see lots of death. I always find it a bit sad when someone who was enjoying the same sunny day as me suddenly, and before they could say "Oh No!", was now dead. A great way to die but it sucks for your family and friends as no chance for goodbyes exists. Guess it's one reason to keep short accounts!
Later in the day we were called to a local AFH (Adult Family Home - the fireservice is chock full of acronyms!) to confirm a death. When someone passes away outside the hospital we are called to confirm asystole (flat line - no heart action at all). Then the Sherriff's officer has to come to do a basic investigation and then contact the medical examiner so the body can be realeased. In this case, a sad one to boot, the deceased had been living in the AFH for some time. No family, no relatives apparently alone in the world... he had been hospitalized with kidney failure and had begged the Dr. to be allowed to 'come home' to the AFH to die. Someone paid to care for him would be the last person he would see in this world. It was kind of the owner of the AFH to allow him back - a kindness not often seen - and it was a bit sad that he died without anyone to mourn him.
Glad to be home now for 5 days so I can go back again. Now I will see live people...
Later in the day we were called to a local AFH (Adult Family Home - the fireservice is chock full of acronyms!) to confirm a death. When someone passes away outside the hospital we are called to confirm asystole (flat line - no heart action at all). Then the Sherriff's officer has to come to do a basic investigation and then contact the medical examiner so the body can be realeased. In this case, a sad one to boot, the deceased had been living in the AFH for some time. No family, no relatives apparently alone in the world... he had been hospitalized with kidney failure and had begged the Dr. to be allowed to 'come home' to the AFH to die. Someone paid to care for him would be the last person he would see in this world. It was kind of the owner of the AFH to allow him back - a kindness not often seen - and it was a bit sad that he died without anyone to mourn him.
Glad to be home now for 5 days so I can go back again. Now I will see live people...
Tuesday, 24 April 2012
Some gifts keep on giving
In 1988, through a series of circumstances, I ended up working for some friends of mine. At the time they owned a company called "Omar's Built-In Vacuum Systems". I was hired in the late fall and my first job was to man the front desk, answer phones, take orders and learn the ropes. Later I was brought into the warehouse section and taught how to manufacture the vacuum itself. That was the part that came into play yesterday.
You see, I considered it a gift, the chance to work for these friends of mine. I was working construction but as winter approached I could see clearly that my misery index was going to go up in proportion to my income index. The chance to work inside and also learn a new craft was a gift.
We have an Omar's in our house. It was also a result of working with the company and we have had this built-in system in every home in which we have lived since the late 1980's. Just this past month it was clear that the vacuum motor on our system was failing. I had changed the brushes once in the past and I was pretty sure either the armature or the motor itself was starting to go from the horrendous noise. So I ordered a new motor and was determined to do it myself.
So yesterday the motor arrived from UPS and I took the power unit down and brought it outside. (It was a beautiful warm and sunny day!) Once I got the cover off and looked everything over I cut the wires I needed to cut to get the motor free. I then peeled off the old gasket, placed the new one on and put in the new motor. OH NO!! I discovered there were two small electrical connectors that I did not have and would definately need to make things work. So off to the local hardware store I went telling myself there was little to no chance that these little parts would be there... surprise! They had them!
I then returned home, applied these little connectors and sealed everything up and plugged it in... the moment of truth.... everything worked! I was transported back to the shop in 1989 where I first learned to assemble these things. It was a gift that kept on giving right down to today.
It is nice when those gifts received many years ago return to bless our lives. It was so nice I vacuumed the house just to enjoy the 'brand-new' vacuum system once again.
You see, I considered it a gift, the chance to work for these friends of mine. I was working construction but as winter approached I could see clearly that my misery index was going to go up in proportion to my income index. The chance to work inside and also learn a new craft was a gift.
We have an Omar's in our house. It was also a result of working with the company and we have had this built-in system in every home in which we have lived since the late 1980's. Just this past month it was clear that the vacuum motor on our system was failing. I had changed the brushes once in the past and I was pretty sure either the armature or the motor itself was starting to go from the horrendous noise. So I ordered a new motor and was determined to do it myself.
So yesterday the motor arrived from UPS and I took the power unit down and brought it outside. (It was a beautiful warm and sunny day!) Once I got the cover off and looked everything over I cut the wires I needed to cut to get the motor free. I then peeled off the old gasket, placed the new one on and put in the new motor. OH NO!! I discovered there were two small electrical connectors that I did not have and would definately need to make things work. So off to the local hardware store I went telling myself there was little to no chance that these little parts would be there... surprise! They had them!
I then returned home, applied these little connectors and sealed everything up and plugged it in... the moment of truth.... everything worked! I was transported back to the shop in 1989 where I first learned to assemble these things. It was a gift that kept on giving right down to today.
It is nice when those gifts received many years ago return to bless our lives. It was so nice I vacuumed the house just to enjoy the 'brand-new' vacuum system once again.
Sunday, 15 April 2012
Don't even think about it!
In early April my wife and I traveled to Florida to visit my parents. The travel east is tough because of the 3 hour time difference from west to east coast. We left Seattle around 0915 and arrived in Tampa, FL just after 10 p.m. EDT and by the time we drove to Bradenton, where my folks live, it was nearly mid-night. Now that is only 9 p.m. PDT but we were tired and were able to go to bed and sleep right away.
We spent a pleasant week visiting family, taking in the Ringling Art Museum in Sarasota on Monday, Busch Gardens on Wednesday. We returned to Seattle on Easter Sunday. All in all a successful trip!
What was amazing even in the age of wonders was the flying. The planes hold nearly 200 people (all sitting in neat rows in a long metal tube) with all their luggage. You are easily 6 or 7 miles high, traveling at a speed in excess of 500 mph able to look out a window not much bigger than the computer screen you are looking at right now but the most amazing thing to me is this: most people don't even think about it! They want to know when the drink cart will start. They want to know if the Captain has turned off the seat-belt sign so they can find the bathroom. Some are reading. Some are watching their personal CD players or computers. For most of these people the plane is just a time machine: in about 4 or 5 hours they will be 2,000 miles away from where they started. In fact, the trip from home to the airport was more perilous than this incredible journey.
Another incredible thing is the complete disregard for the time of day. These aircraft have no need to see where they are going. They follow coordinates and computers guide them to the proper spots. It gets dark and it matters not. Are there thunderclouds ahead? No matter they just turn and go around them sometimes with a light show for the amazed passengers. They fly in complete darkness and you watch the lighted cities slide by underneath the plane (by the way - where does all that electricty come from?) and then before too long the plane is floating gently toward earth and you see the ground rushing by and realize that you really are going quite fast. Then the wheels bump and engines roar and the brakes are applied and once again you are a huge car with wings.
Why does everyone immediately stand up even if they are in the back of the plane?
Why do they load the front of the plane first and then finally the back?
Why do babies that are flying always sit by me?
Don't even think about it.
We spent a pleasant week visiting family, taking in the Ringling Art Museum in Sarasota on Monday, Busch Gardens on Wednesday. We returned to Seattle on Easter Sunday. All in all a successful trip!
What was amazing even in the age of wonders was the flying. The planes hold nearly 200 people (all sitting in neat rows in a long metal tube) with all their luggage. You are easily 6 or 7 miles high, traveling at a speed in excess of 500 mph able to look out a window not much bigger than the computer screen you are looking at right now but the most amazing thing to me is this: most people don't even think about it! They want to know when the drink cart will start. They want to know if the Captain has turned off the seat-belt sign so they can find the bathroom. Some are reading. Some are watching their personal CD players or computers. For most of these people the plane is just a time machine: in about 4 or 5 hours they will be 2,000 miles away from where they started. In fact, the trip from home to the airport was more perilous than this incredible journey.
Another incredible thing is the complete disregard for the time of day. These aircraft have no need to see where they are going. They follow coordinates and computers guide them to the proper spots. It gets dark and it matters not. Are there thunderclouds ahead? No matter they just turn and go around them sometimes with a light show for the amazed passengers. They fly in complete darkness and you watch the lighted cities slide by underneath the plane (by the way - where does all that electricty come from?) and then before too long the plane is floating gently toward earth and you see the ground rushing by and realize that you really are going quite fast. Then the wheels bump and engines roar and the brakes are applied and once again you are a huge car with wings.
Why does everyone immediately stand up even if they are in the back of the plane?
Why do they load the front of the plane first and then finally the back?
Why do babies that are flying always sit by me?
Don't even think about it.
Wednesday, 21 March 2012
Who will remember?
Some of the monumental questions we ask ourselves is: Who will remember me after I'm gone? Will it matter that I was here? Will anyone care? These questions can haunt us and cause us to worry and wonder and, sometimes, do crazy things in an effort to be remembered.
My Dad's grandfather on his Dad's side, my great-grandfather was named Erik Olson. He was born in Sweden in 1851. He grew up in Stroms Parish, Stromsund, Jamtland, Sweden. It is fairly certain he was an only child. I don't know how much school he completed. He married in 1875 a neighbor girl named Maret Martensdotter. They had 9 children together. Sometime in 1892 (or perhaps earlier than that), when they were pregnant with the 9th child, they made the decision to migrate to America. It appears the decision was motivated by the Swedish government's policy of requiring military service of every male Swede. Maret did not want her sons to face this requirement. So in April 1893 they started the long process of packing and moving. I can only imagine what that involved.
A family sponsored them in northern Minnesota. Toward the end of the summer they moved into a one or two room 'shanty'. On Halloween that same year Maret died. Once again I can only imagine the feelings that must have swept the man as he contemplated this new life in America with 9 children, the youngest only 6 months or so.
Faced with this difficulty he did what countless of folks have done, he gritted his teeth and did what had to be done. The younger children were cared for by the older. The baby was 'farmed out' to another family. (He was actually adopted by that other family and so had a different last name than his brothers and sisters!)
They got on with the business of living. Reading 'between the lines' as they say you have got to admire a man who could take what had been handed to him and make a life for his family in this new, and sometimes strange, new world.
My father remembers this grandfather. He categorized his grandfathers as 'the singing Grandpa and the grouchy Grandpa'. This one was the grouchy one... I must remember that my father was just 6 years old when this man passed away. It seems harsh to judge a man through the eyes of a 6 year old! He died in 1937. There are pictures of him throughout his life that I have in a 'book' compiled by one of my aunts. She had contracted ALS, Lou Gerhig's disease, and this was a labor of love that helped her get through things. What a gift she gave to all of us! A chance to know something about your forebears.
I will write more about this later. Right now I am in awe of a man who moved his family to America when he was he was in his early 40's and took what came and handled it.
I named one of my sons after him.
My Dad's grandfather on his Dad's side, my great-grandfather was named Erik Olson. He was born in Sweden in 1851. He grew up in Stroms Parish, Stromsund, Jamtland, Sweden. It is fairly certain he was an only child. I don't know how much school he completed. He married in 1875 a neighbor girl named Maret Martensdotter. They had 9 children together. Sometime in 1892 (or perhaps earlier than that), when they were pregnant with the 9th child, they made the decision to migrate to America. It appears the decision was motivated by the Swedish government's policy of requiring military service of every male Swede. Maret did not want her sons to face this requirement. So in April 1893 they started the long process of packing and moving. I can only imagine what that involved.
A family sponsored them in northern Minnesota. Toward the end of the summer they moved into a one or two room 'shanty'. On Halloween that same year Maret died. Once again I can only imagine the feelings that must have swept the man as he contemplated this new life in America with 9 children, the youngest only 6 months or so.
Faced with this difficulty he did what countless of folks have done, he gritted his teeth and did what had to be done. The younger children were cared for by the older. The baby was 'farmed out' to another family. (He was actually adopted by that other family and so had a different last name than his brothers and sisters!)
They got on with the business of living. Reading 'between the lines' as they say you have got to admire a man who could take what had been handed to him and make a life for his family in this new, and sometimes strange, new world.
My father remembers this grandfather. He categorized his grandfathers as 'the singing Grandpa and the grouchy Grandpa'. This one was the grouchy one... I must remember that my father was just 6 years old when this man passed away. It seems harsh to judge a man through the eyes of a 6 year old! He died in 1937. There are pictures of him throughout his life that I have in a 'book' compiled by one of my aunts. She had contracted ALS, Lou Gerhig's disease, and this was a labor of love that helped her get through things. What a gift she gave to all of us! A chance to know something about your forebears.
I will write more about this later. Right now I am in awe of a man who moved his family to America when he was he was in his early 40's and took what came and handled it.
I named one of my sons after him.
Tuesday, 13 March 2012
Oh yeah...
Oh yeah...
- if you don't post stuff on your blog people will stop reading it.
- life is short, enjoy it. Went to a memorial service last week for a friend from college years. She found out she had colon cancer that had spread to lungs and liver. She died 20 days later. Could I go to the Dr. for what I thought was a small problem and be dead inside a month? Why not? Life is short, enjoy it.
- As I am writing this at my computer the computer table is strewn with toys...my grandsons and their mother are visiting. This is what it was like living with children.
- in our town this past weekend a child, 7 years of age, was shot by her 5 year old sibling. They were in the family van while Dad and Mom were just outside the vehicle talking to a friend. The kids were rummaging through the vehicle and found a loaded handgun in the glove compartment. Now I work for a fire department though not the one in our town... Is there anything in your training that teaches you how to deal with taking care of a gunshot wound (GSW - how I hate those three letters in that combination) to a 7 year old? To their credit they got the child to the nearest hospital who then transfered her to the Level 1 trauma center. As has been my sad experience when children are wounded by guns the child died the next day. So... is it worth having a gun for protection? Pretty steep cost.
- On Sunday our Battalion did a drill, one station at a time, where much of the hose/equipment was taken off the engine. I was Acting BC and so I was evaluating each station. Six times on Sunday I helped re-load the engine. I was whupped by the end of the day... oh yeah... I remember... I ain't 35 anymore!
- I started this blog in the hopes that it would help me to write more...here's hoping you are still a reader!
- if you don't post stuff on your blog people will stop reading it.
- life is short, enjoy it. Went to a memorial service last week for a friend from college years. She found out she had colon cancer that had spread to lungs and liver. She died 20 days later. Could I go to the Dr. for what I thought was a small problem and be dead inside a month? Why not? Life is short, enjoy it.
- As I am writing this at my computer the computer table is strewn with toys...my grandsons and their mother are visiting. This is what it was like living with children.
- in our town this past weekend a child, 7 years of age, was shot by her 5 year old sibling. They were in the family van while Dad and Mom were just outside the vehicle talking to a friend. The kids were rummaging through the vehicle and found a loaded handgun in the glove compartment. Now I work for a fire department though not the one in our town... Is there anything in your training that teaches you how to deal with taking care of a gunshot wound (GSW - how I hate those three letters in that combination) to a 7 year old? To their credit they got the child to the nearest hospital who then transfered her to the Level 1 trauma center. As has been my sad experience when children are wounded by guns the child died the next day. So... is it worth having a gun for protection? Pretty steep cost.
- On Sunday our Battalion did a drill, one station at a time, where much of the hose/equipment was taken off the engine. I was Acting BC and so I was evaluating each station. Six times on Sunday I helped re-load the engine. I was whupped by the end of the day... oh yeah... I remember... I ain't 35 anymore!
- I started this blog in the hopes that it would help me to write more...here's hoping you are still a reader!
Saturday, 25 February 2012
Computer Problems
It has been nearly a month since I have been able to post anything. Our computer was shutting off at random times, right in the middle of whatever you were doing. No warning, no messages just "Boink!" at it was gone. I began to despair that we had lost all of our pictures, files and such that weren't backed up. I have a device but hadn't actually done any back up for well over a year! My bad.
So, in discussing the problem with my oldest son he seemed to think it was an overheating issue. Then in the mail this past week a local company was advertising 1 day repairs. So I called to find out what they needed me to bring in. When asked for a description of the problem the tech felt it was a hardware issue and that was more than one day and pretty expensive (in-other-words - buy a new computer!). I decided to take the tower apart and see if it was dusty/dirty... and it was! So I vacuumed extensively, blew dust out of parts the vacuum didn't reach and generally tried to clean it up. When I put it back together and re-attached all the plugs/wires it came on and has worked seamlessly since! I had all but decided to buy a new computer today and now have received a reprieve!
Now, while I cannot promise that blogging will resume in earnest I have at least explained why there was no change for so long.
Sorry.
So, in discussing the problem with my oldest son he seemed to think it was an overheating issue. Then in the mail this past week a local company was advertising 1 day repairs. So I called to find out what they needed me to bring in. When asked for a description of the problem the tech felt it was a hardware issue and that was more than one day and pretty expensive (in-other-words - buy a new computer!). I decided to take the tower apart and see if it was dusty/dirty... and it was! So I vacuumed extensively, blew dust out of parts the vacuum didn't reach and generally tried to clean it up. When I put it back together and re-attached all the plugs/wires it came on and has worked seamlessly since! I had all but decided to buy a new computer today and now have received a reprieve!
Now, while I cannot promise that blogging will resume in earnest I have at least explained why there was no change for so long.
Sorry.
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