Showing posts with label challenges. Show all posts
Showing posts with label challenges. Show all posts
Saturday, April 4, 2015
RESCUE ME !!!! ( But Not like that....)
It was late. I don't remember how many calls we had already run that shift, but it was too many.
As we pulled up in front of the shabby little house, I grumbled into the mic, " Dispatch, 39's on scene."
I flipped on the scene lights facing the address, pulled on my gloves and headed to the other side of the truck to rendezvous with my partner. At the side door, we divided up the equipment we'd carry in, and started toward the house. No words flowed as we walked, no discussion or humor. Like I said, it was LATE.
The call was for hypoglycemia; literally, just low blood sugar. The answer for this problem is simple, swift and effective. On scene, we do a quick assessment that includes vitals and checking the patients BGL (blood glucose level ). If that confirms our suspicion that the patient is hypoglycemic, we administer an amp (large prefilled syringe) of Dextrose, 50% solution by IV. It works like a magic show most of the time. Most of the time, the patient feels so much better that they try to refuse transport. This really hurts our feelings. A lot. (Not Really. Most of us can't afford feelings...to expensive. I knew an EMT that had a feeling once. The thing was so expensive, he had to become a doctor just to deal with it. True story. )
This was precisely that call.Our patient lay on his back, slowly rocking side to side. He seemed to be struggling to open his eyes, and moaning occasionally.His BGL was a whopping "24" if I recall correctly.
My partner and I just sort of flowed into action. One of my favorite things about Fire and EMS, is that after you've done it a while, you develop this "knack" for working as a team. Whether it's deploying a hose line, or starting an IV, you know what your partner's going to do. He knows what you're going to do. It just flows. No talking or explanations necessary.
It can be a thing of beauty, born of necessity.
This is the situation we found ourselves in. It is vital to point out here that the patient was NOT the person who called us. People in this "semi-concious" condition have a REALLY hard time using the phone. The caller, the patient's room-mate; stood by watching us as we worked.
Perhaps it was because of the silent fashion we worked, or maybe because we didn't communicate to him exactly what we were doing, and what was happening. I really don't know. But at that moment, the room-mate said something I don't think I'll forget for a long time.
"Ya'll need to hurry up! You need to give him some insulin!" The room-mate turned to the messy dresser top closest to the door, and rummaging through the clutter, produced first a syringe, and then a small insulin vial!
For those of you who may not be associated with the medical field or a diabetic patient, let me explain that this is precisely the OPPOSITE of what our patient needed. In fact, giving him insulin at this point would have solved all of his future diabetic issues.... Permanently.
As calmly as possible, I advised the now adamant and excited room-mate what we were doing, and what giving him any insulin would have most likely caused. I informed him that in the pre-hospital setting, insulin is NEVER a treatment option. As our patient began to come around, I considered what had transpired, and what could have been the outcome if the patient had been alone with his well meaning but misguided room-mate.
Isn't that just like us though?
Have you ever prayed for God's deliverance, or intercession in your life, and then specified the way he should perform ?
" God, I can't do this myself. Rescue Me, Lord!!"
And then as he begins to work in our life...
" WHOA, WHOA WHOA!! NOT LIKE THAT!!"
I know I have.
The bible clearly states that as far as the Sun is above the Earth (92,960,000 miles), so are His ways above our ways. It also tells us in Proverbs 3:5-6, that we should " Lean not on thine own understanding, but in all thy ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight ( simplify) thy paths."
I was talking with another firefighter, and a trusted friend of mine at the gym yesterday about this call, and it occurred to me how often I do the same thing with God that the room mate did with us. I acknowledge that a situation is beyond my capacity to deal with, I hand it to him, and then as soon as I let go of it, I'm standing over his shoulder while he works... instructing him on how it should be done.
Sounds foolish doesn't it?
Just thought I'd share. I don't think you need me to "draw out" the lesson here. For those of you who are brothers and sisters in the field, it should be obvious. For those of us who are brothers and sisters in Christ, it should be even more so. God bless, and have a great Easter Weekend!!!!
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Diary of a Divorcee, Part 1
Even now, sitting here in front of this screen; I am unsure of EXACTLY what it is that I am doing. And I'm okay with that. I'm okay, because I have seen with my own eyes the elephant in the room.
ELEPHANT?
Yeeeessss, I guess it could have been a Gorilla, but I prefer to think of it as an elephant. A gorilla may or may not be out of place, depending on what kind of party it is, but an elephant? Elephants definitely DO NOT belong in the parlor. And even though he doesn't belong, the majority of us would be more content to distribute our guest's tea cups around the elephant, maybe cover him with a doily... anything to avoid discussing his presence. But he's not going away just because we refuse to deal with him.
So what is this Elephant, Phillip ?
I'm glad you asked. The Elephant is simply the number of real Christian men and women who, for whatever reason, suddenly find that they are now divorced. WHOAA!!!! Wait a minute... Stay with me. I'm not here to discuss the biblical obligations, or the ramifications of divorce. I'm not willing to get wrapped up in a debate about ethics
.
This is about people.
Maybe not "YOU", maybe it's other people;but it's people that no matter what side they were on, are REALLY hurting. People that want to know that someone else understands the way they are hurting, and has felt the same wash of anger, frustration, and bitter loss.
I have often thought someone should tell these people they are not alone, should NOT be concerned with how they themselves will be perceived. They should lower their guard, let people think what they will, and hope that their laughter, or tears, makes them feel a little less alone.They should understand this need, hear it begging to be filled, and step up to the plate. Someone should.
I didn't want to be that person. Not because I didn't want people knowing what was going on with Phillip or because I was worried what they might think about me.
Oh,..Wait -- It was for precisely those reasons.
Regardless, I will still do this, even if everyone I know hates it. I will not try to teach any lessons or show anyone how to do things better. This is my life. This is real. I've been there too. Draw your own conclusions. Let's begin with this date...... and boy was it a doozey
1/23/09
Today. Today began like most others, with a sunrise. The alarm goes off (mine really makes the MOST annoying set of beeps in the whole world.), It starts off at a low volume, a steady beep-beep, beep-beep. The beeps seem to say: "get-up, Phil -up". The longer it goes unattended the louder it gets... building to somewhere between the neighbor's dog barking, and a jet engine. BEEEP-BEEEP-BEEEP!!, BEEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP!!!! "GET-OUTTA- BED!" "WHO CARES-THAT-YOUR- DEPRESSED!!!". I lay there until there's a knock on the door. It's the neighbor's dog. He's annoyed because he's trying to sleep and my alarm is keeping him up.
So I get up. I go to my second job today, a job I took because I couldn't handle the days I was spending alone, and because it pays me money.
The night before, I had called the EX. She thought she had kidney stones and no longer has health insurance. She doesn't have health insurance because I refused to pay for her insurance after the divorce. We get along for the most part, but I (much to my chagrin) had taken her insurance away right after the divorce. I didn't take anything from our home and I let her have whatever terms she asked for. I NEVER wanted to be divorced, and the pain was too much,.. I couldn't fight her.
I carried enough guilt without that. I KNOW that for the last two years of our marriage, I did absolutely nothing to remind her how special she was, or to love her the way Christ loves the church. I had resented the fact that she stayed home with the kids while I worked two jobs, and still struggled to make ends meet.
I resented her, because everything I did was for her, and I knew that I wasn't getting it done. If I wasn't getting it done, it couldn't be my fault right? It had to be because of the demands I perceived were being leveled at me, to give more, make more, get better things, not for me, but for her.
Demands which, just by the way, she never actually verbalized. I found out later, these expectations were phantoms.When she pointed out that she had never asked me for those things, I could only reply "But that's what I FELT I had to do... I knew you deserved better than what I was giving."
When I found out that another man was in the picture, spending more time with my children than I did, I was furious. I stormed into H.R. at my job, and with a stroke of the pen, snatched away her insurance. I could have simply asked her to reimburse me. She would have. But I didn't. I was angry, and I reacted. And Now, I am Ashamed.
As I get ready for work, the conversation of the previous evening echoes in my head. Hearing the pain in her voice, my kids playing in the background. I had gotten on the phone with them, told them how much I missed and loved them, and then I cried... alone. I miss my children... A LOT. I know they don't understand, and they hurt too. I know WE are responsible for that, And I am ashamed. When we got off the phone, I had offered to take the children, even though I also heard her boyfriend in the background. I fought down anger, and then resentment, and offered anyways. Not a real sacrifice. They are my children. And even though I've had them 4 days out of the last week, I would take them again. The brief periods when they are with me are the brightest spots in my "divorced life."
She said she would call back and never did. So I called her this morning. No answer. I brush it off and go to work. I work part time for the family YMCA, in the water, four hours at a time, doing therapy with autistic children and patients with spinal cord injuries, or illnesses that make conventional land therapy impractical.I am NOT a therapist, but I work for one. The day is full, and just distracting enough so I don't really have to think much about the EX/SICK/KIDS situation. It's over quickly. I fill another hour or so working out in the gym before I go home.
On the way home, I see that I've missed a call from her, so I call back. She answers this time, And I am overwhelmed with sympathy. She sounds pitiful. I want to drive to where she is, and take her o the hospital myself. Instead, I get on the interstate and head home. She says she knows I have to work at the fire station tomorrow , and doesn't want me to get the kids. She has help she says. I hear him in the background. He's playing X-box with my stepson, and they are laughing and talking in excited tones.I feel like an outsider looking into the world that should have been mine, and I feel alone. So I ask to speak to Jaime (my stepson), and as he's telling me he loves me, I hear something else.
I can visualize what happened. My youngest (two) has strolled up to the television and displaying his knack for mischief has gotten in the way of the screen, or hit a button to change the channel. In a loud voice, I hear "this guy" say "UN-UH!".
He's correcting my son!! .my blood boils.
I try to hold it together, but when my EX is back on the phone I tell her what I intend to do if I EVER hear him raise his voice to my kid again. I ask her to handle the situation, but she hangs up on me.In my anger, I've completely forgotten how sick she is, how little she needs this right now.
A second later the cell rings, and it's her number.
I answer, but it is most definitely not her. "THIS GUY" is confronting ME, saying he didn't do that and now-- WELL-- Now it's on. Like Donkey Kong.
Trying to refrain from verbiage that could land me in jail, I inform "the guy" that I HEARD HIM say "UN-UH" to my child (is this sounding ridiculous to anyone yet?) and he had better never address me again, in any fashion.I'm so angry I'm shaking. I hang up.
What just happened? It was so quick, I don't even know. I know I'm angry, angrier than I've been in quite a while.
As my blood pressure returns to normal, I know something else.
I know that what I just did is sin.
Later on I pray, and ask God to forgive me. He lets me know that I have to ask the same of this man and my EX. So I text message an apology... it is all I can do at the time. I can't fix this, and I feel helpless, lonely, and ashamed.
I have just failed to be Christian in a situation where it could have made a world of difference. Why? Because he said "un-uh" to my kid.
WOW... Phillip, way to blow things out of proportion.
Tonight I try to remind myself that we all fail sometimes, and that God is merciful. But today, I know that I could have done better, and I am ashamed. I tell myself I am only human, and mistakes happen. It sounds lame, even in my ears. Today I confused emotions, allowed myself to be reactive, and severely crippled my witness.
Why?
Because someone whose presence I resent told my child "un-uh." Tonight I AM ASHAMED.
ELEPHANT?
Yeeeessss, I guess it could have been a Gorilla, but I prefer to think of it as an elephant. A gorilla may or may not be out of place, depending on what kind of party it is, but an elephant? Elephants definitely DO NOT belong in the parlor. And even though he doesn't belong, the majority of us would be more content to distribute our guest's tea cups around the elephant, maybe cover him with a doily... anything to avoid discussing his presence. But he's not going away just because we refuse to deal with him.
So what is this Elephant, Phillip ?
I'm glad you asked. The Elephant is simply the number of real Christian men and women who, for whatever reason, suddenly find that they are now divorced. WHOAA!!!! Wait a minute... Stay with me. I'm not here to discuss the biblical obligations, or the ramifications of divorce. I'm not willing to get wrapped up in a debate about ethics
.
This is about people.
Maybe not "YOU", maybe it's other people;but it's people that no matter what side they were on, are REALLY hurting. People that want to know that someone else understands the way they are hurting, and has felt the same wash of anger, frustration, and bitter loss.
I have often thought someone should tell these people they are not alone, should NOT be concerned with how they themselves will be perceived. They should lower their guard, let people think what they will, and hope that their laughter, or tears, makes them feel a little less alone.They should understand this need, hear it begging to be filled, and step up to the plate. Someone should.
I didn't want to be that person. Not because I didn't want people knowing what was going on with Phillip or because I was worried what they might think about me.
Oh,..Wait -- It was for precisely those reasons.
Regardless, I will still do this, even if everyone I know hates it. I will not try to teach any lessons or show anyone how to do things better. This is my life. This is real. I've been there too. Draw your own conclusions. Let's begin with this date...... and boy was it a doozey
1/23/09
Today. Today began like most others, with a sunrise. The alarm goes off (mine really makes the MOST annoying set of beeps in the whole world.), It starts off at a low volume, a steady beep-beep, beep-beep. The beeps seem to say: "get-up, Phil -up". The longer it goes unattended the louder it gets... building to somewhere between the neighbor's dog barking, and a jet engine. BEEEP-BEEEP-BEEEP!!, BEEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP!!!! "GET-OUTTA- BED!" "WHO CARES-THAT-YOUR- DEPRESSED!!!". I lay there until there's a knock on the door. It's the neighbor's dog. He's annoyed because he's trying to sleep and my alarm is keeping him up.
So I get up. I go to my second job today, a job I took because I couldn't handle the days I was spending alone, and because it pays me money.
The night before, I had called the EX. She thought she had kidney stones and no longer has health insurance. She doesn't have health insurance because I refused to pay for her insurance after the divorce. We get along for the most part, but I (much to my chagrin) had taken her insurance away right after the divorce. I didn't take anything from our home and I let her have whatever terms she asked for. I NEVER wanted to be divorced, and the pain was too much,.. I couldn't fight her.
I carried enough guilt without that. I KNOW that for the last two years of our marriage, I did absolutely nothing to remind her how special she was, or to love her the way Christ loves the church. I had resented the fact that she stayed home with the kids while I worked two jobs, and still struggled to make ends meet.
I resented her, because everything I did was for her, and I knew that I wasn't getting it done. If I wasn't getting it done, it couldn't be my fault right? It had to be because of the demands I perceived were being leveled at me, to give more, make more, get better things, not for me, but for her.
Demands which, just by the way, she never actually verbalized. I found out later, these expectations were phantoms.When she pointed out that she had never asked me for those things, I could only reply "But that's what I FELT I had to do... I knew you deserved better than what I was giving."
When I found out that another man was in the picture, spending more time with my children than I did, I was furious. I stormed into H.R. at my job, and with a stroke of the pen, snatched away her insurance. I could have simply asked her to reimburse me. She would have. But I didn't. I was angry, and I reacted. And Now, I am Ashamed.
As I get ready for work, the conversation of the previous evening echoes in my head. Hearing the pain in her voice, my kids playing in the background. I had gotten on the phone with them, told them how much I missed and loved them, and then I cried... alone. I miss my children... A LOT. I know they don't understand, and they hurt too. I know WE are responsible for that, And I am ashamed. When we got off the phone, I had offered to take the children, even though I also heard her boyfriend in the background. I fought down anger, and then resentment, and offered anyways. Not a real sacrifice. They are my children. And even though I've had them 4 days out of the last week, I would take them again. The brief periods when they are with me are the brightest spots in my "divorced life."
She said she would call back and never did. So I called her this morning. No answer. I brush it off and go to work. I work part time for the family YMCA, in the water, four hours at a time, doing therapy with autistic children and patients with spinal cord injuries, or illnesses that make conventional land therapy impractical.I am NOT a therapist, but I work for one. The day is full, and just distracting enough so I don't really have to think much about the EX/SICK/KIDS situation. It's over quickly. I fill another hour or so working out in the gym before I go home.
On the way home, I see that I've missed a call from her, so I call back. She answers this time, And I am overwhelmed with sympathy. She sounds pitiful. I want to drive to where she is, and take her o the hospital myself. Instead, I get on the interstate and head home. She says she knows I have to work at the fire station tomorrow , and doesn't want me to get the kids. She has help she says. I hear him in the background. He's playing X-box with my stepson, and they are laughing and talking in excited tones.I feel like an outsider looking into the world that should have been mine, and I feel alone. So I ask to speak to Jaime (my stepson), and as he's telling me he loves me, I hear something else.
I can visualize what happened. My youngest (two) has strolled up to the television and displaying his knack for mischief has gotten in the way of the screen, or hit a button to change the channel. In a loud voice, I hear "this guy" say "UN-UH!".
He's correcting my son!! .my blood boils.
I try to hold it together, but when my EX is back on the phone I tell her what I intend to do if I EVER hear him raise his voice to my kid again. I ask her to handle the situation, but she hangs up on me.In my anger, I've completely forgotten how sick she is, how little she needs this right now.
A second later the cell rings, and it's her number.
I answer, but it is most definitely not her. "THIS GUY" is confronting ME, saying he didn't do that and now-- WELL-- Now it's on. Like Donkey Kong.
Trying to refrain from verbiage that could land me in jail, I inform "the guy" that I HEARD HIM say "UN-UH" to my child (is this sounding ridiculous to anyone yet?) and he had better never address me again, in any fashion.I'm so angry I'm shaking. I hang up.
What just happened? It was so quick, I don't even know. I know I'm angry, angrier than I've been in quite a while.
As my blood pressure returns to normal, I know something else.
I know that what I just did is sin.
Later on I pray, and ask God to forgive me. He lets me know that I have to ask the same of this man and my EX. So I text message an apology... it is all I can do at the time. I can't fix this, and I feel helpless, lonely, and ashamed.
I have just failed to be Christian in a situation where it could have made a world of difference. Why? Because he said "un-uh" to my kid.
WOW... Phillip, way to blow things out of proportion.
Tonight I try to remind myself that we all fail sometimes, and that God is merciful. But today, I know that I could have done better, and I am ashamed. I tell myself I am only human, and mistakes happen. It sounds lame, even in my ears. Today I confused emotions, allowed myself to be reactive, and severely crippled my witness.
Why?
Because someone whose presence I resent told my child "un-uh." Tonight I AM ASHAMED.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
" Set your own Bar"
I am not a "Fire-God". No one will ever accuse me of being the most intelligent firefighter in America, or even at my department.I don't think I'm superior to any of my brothers, or deserve more or better than anyone else.I don't think I know it all, or have all the answers. So feel free to read this blog, not as an instruction, but as an observation; One firefighter to another.
A few days ago, I was talking with a couple of friends about an upcoming race we entered. This race is the Marine Corp "Ultimate Challenge" Mud run We were all excited about the race, discussing strategy,( For finishing, not neccesarily winning) Training routines, and naturally our mental approach to the obstacles we would face. One of the other firefighters asked me if I had ever seen the movie "Gattica." The plot of the movie in question is irrelevant, and most would find it boring. But when I replied in the affirmative, he reminded me of a scene I have included here. In this clip, the "genetically inferior" of two brothers reminds his brother that he had once bettered his brother @ swimming, and in fact saved his life during a game of " Chicken". In their version, they brave the cold waters of the Atlantic, and continue swimming out until someone "Chicken's Out". After swimming out as far as he can, the brother who is "genetically superior, pauses... gasping for air, and exhausted he cries out: " How are you doing this ?" How did you do any of this ?" His brother replies, " You want to know how I did it ?! This is how I did it Anton! I never saved anything for the swim back!"
I like that saying. WE hear motivational quotes all the time. And motivational quotes are good, we need them. They help us encourage each other, pushing ourselves to better effort by inspiration. These quotes allow us to reach deeper, push farther, stronger....
Quotes like: " Don't let your minimum be you maximum."
" leave it all on the field."
" Confidence is contagious. So is lack of confidence."
" We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence then, is not a trait, but a habit."
Ecclesiastes 9:10 " Whatsoever thy Hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; ...."
Colossians 3:23 " And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the LORD, and not unto men;"
A few days ago, I was talking with a couple of friends about an upcoming race we entered. This race is the Marine Corp "Ultimate Challenge" Mud run We were all excited about the race, discussing strategy,( For finishing, not neccesarily winning) Training routines, and naturally our mental approach to the obstacles we would face. One of the other firefighters asked me if I had ever seen the movie "Gattica." The plot of the movie in question is irrelevant, and most would find it boring. But when I replied in the affirmative, he reminded me of a scene I have included here. In this clip, the "genetically inferior" of two brothers reminds his brother that he had once bettered his brother @ swimming, and in fact saved his life during a game of " Chicken". In their version, they brave the cold waters of the Atlantic, and continue swimming out until someone "Chicken's Out". After swimming out as far as he can, the brother who is "genetically superior, pauses... gasping for air, and exhausted he cries out: " How are you doing this ?" How did you do any of this ?" His brother replies, " You want to know how I did it ?! This is how I did it Anton! I never saved anything for the swim back!"
I like that saying. WE hear motivational quotes all the time. And motivational quotes are good, we need them. They help us encourage each other, pushing ourselves to better effort by inspiration. These quotes allow us to reach deeper, push farther, stronger....
Quotes like: " Don't let your minimum be you maximum."
" leave it all on the field."
" Confidence is contagious. So is lack of confidence."
" We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence then, is not a trait, but a habit."
Ecclesiastes 9:10 " Whatsoever thy Hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; ...."
Colossians 3:23 " And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the LORD, and not unto men;"
Monday, January 30, 2012
All About Heroes
01/30/12
Tonight, I have just returned from assisting with the instruction of a basic firefighter class in a neighboring county, the topic of which was "hands on" primary search with an entrapped victim. This is something that is very close to the hearts of all firemen ... and most would say it's what we sign up for.
In fact, if we are truly honest with ourselves; I believe that all firefighters begin this career in the hopes that one day they would become a hero. And maybe we're the kind of guys ( and gals) that need that. I don't mean to be disparaging. I don't think that necessarily means that firefighters are glory seekers, adrenaline "junkies", or reckless "hose monkeys". For me, It only means that I must aim my life at a greater good; something extraordinary, in order for it to have meaning.
"Why do you want to be a hero?" I have asked many rookies why they wanted to be firefighters, But I don't think I've explained my own reasoning to more than a few. While I was still a young man, I lost a cousin in a structure fire. Katrina (blackwood) Walker was only 13 when she died on July the 1st, 1991.
In the early hours before dawn, she had woken to flames consuming her home. My Great Aunt Betty and uncle H- had made it safely to their agreed meeting spot, but Katrina wasn't there.
Katrina had fled to the bathroom, stuffed a towel in the crack of the door and waited for help.She had been taught (correctly) that this was the best thing to do if you couldn't get out of your house during a fire.
Her home was less than a mile from a firestation... the response was direct and timely, the firefighters there did their ABSOLUTE best. It wasn't enough.
Katrina had an infectious smile.She had been born mostly deaf, but somehow she was still teaching herself to play guitar. She had a pet skunk. She was 13.
Katrina's incident has always been, and always will be; in my mind. It's something I carry with me out the door to every shift. I can't imagine what those firemen that were there felt... But the fear of feeling it? Well... It makes me want to be a hero.
Talking about "Heroes" tonight made me remember this story.
. I want to share it, because to me, heroes are not defined by the status their actions may bring them, but instead by what action they will willingly give themselves to... for the sake of another, seeking nothing in return. This one event created a lasting impression on me, and here for the first time in a long time; I saw what I think heroes truly look like.
I've had to change the names, but I promise the story is true... I hope it blesses you.
6/10/11
"She's Gone."
Just moments ago, I received that simple text message. Two words, simple and expected, but devastating.
" Jasmine", who would have been five years old in little more than a week, had finally lost her fight with Cancer. I had met Jasmine through my girlfriend, and at the beginning of our relationship, we took the picture you see above. She had met Jasmine and her family while volunteering at Duke University's Oncology department. She had helped the girl's family that day, and the picture above is from the simple dinner they prepared for us, their way of saying " Thank you."
Despite the best efforts of the medical professionals, the child grew worse. I vividly remember the night the child's mother called, panic in her voice as she begged my girlfriend for help. We had to be on a plane at 4am the next morning, but still ( at my girlfriend's insistence) we drove to their house and picked them up, mother and child, so they would have a way to the emergency room. I have never felt so helpless as I did that night, listening to her whimper in the back seat, her tiny voice saying, over and over; " me duele, me duele." ( it hurts me, it hurts me) I asked later what it meant, but there was no need... somehow I already known..
Earlier today, my girlfriend rushed out of class to be with Jasmine and her family, stopping only long enough to pick up dinner for them. She called me on her way, and I was moved by the genuine concern I could hear in her voice as we talked. Mary ( the girls mother) had called her earlier in near panic, begging her to come. She had not been there long when I received the text. " She's Gone."
My girlfriend didn't go because she had to, or because she would get some satisfaction from going. She didn't go because everyone would know what she had done. Until this post, only a very few knew the story. No one was watching, and there was no medal for her to carry away. She owed those people nothing, would profit nothing to suffer with them, but still she went. Her motive was simple... Love. Not fleshly temporal love, but the love that each of us should nurture in our own hearts, love that seeks no self fulfillment, but is simply an echo of the Love shown us by Christ. This was heroism. This was Christianity, and this one event taught me more about Christianity than any of the time I spent in bible college.
As firefighters we are blessed to be in a position of "helping", being there for those crisis moments when no one knows what to do.We assist those in desperate need, making sense of it all. This too, I believe; is very Christ-like. However, we are also very isolated from the reality that exists outside of each "scene." When our work there is done, we go back to station, clean the gear, do the reports, and move on. This is our refuge. If we were unable to disconnect from the tragedies and trauma, I don't think our careers would last very long. We cope, we grow; distancing ourselves further from the pain, but perhaps also further away from our reason for being here in the first place. Maybe the callused, distant veteran doesn't even remember the "hero" he wanted to be.
This one event however, was something I was forced to see in it's totality. I saw it up close and personal, and I learned what heroes really look like.
They don't always look like a "Rescue". The guys in Katrina's yard that night, dejected, exhausted... they were heroes. They don't always look like superman in a "10-10". Because to this firefighter heroes don't always look like the guy who saved a life, or put out the most fire.
Sometimes heroes look like people who didn't have to be there. People who couldn't change the outcome. But People who were there anyways, and gave it everything they had.
Tonight, I have just returned from assisting with the instruction of a basic firefighter class in a neighboring county, the topic of which was "hands on" primary search with an entrapped victim. This is something that is very close to the hearts of all firemen ... and most would say it's what we sign up for.
In fact, if we are truly honest with ourselves; I believe that all firefighters begin this career in the hopes that one day they would become a hero. And maybe we're the kind of guys ( and gals) that need that. I don't mean to be disparaging. I don't think that necessarily means that firefighters are glory seekers, adrenaline "junkies", or reckless "hose monkeys". For me, It only means that I must aim my life at a greater good; something extraordinary, in order for it to have meaning.
"Why do you want to be a hero?" I have asked many rookies why they wanted to be firefighters, But I don't think I've explained my own reasoning to more than a few. While I was still a young man, I lost a cousin in a structure fire. Katrina (blackwood) Walker was only 13 when she died on July the 1st, 1991.
In the early hours before dawn, she had woken to flames consuming her home. My Great Aunt Betty and uncle H- had made it safely to their agreed meeting spot, but Katrina wasn't there.
Katrina had fled to the bathroom, stuffed a towel in the crack of the door and waited for help.She had been taught (correctly) that this was the best thing to do if you couldn't get out of your house during a fire.
Her home was less than a mile from a firestation... the response was direct and timely, the firefighters there did their ABSOLUTE best. It wasn't enough.
Katrina had an infectious smile.She had been born mostly deaf, but somehow she was still teaching herself to play guitar. She had a pet skunk. She was 13.
Katrina's incident has always been, and always will be; in my mind. It's something I carry with me out the door to every shift. I can't imagine what those firemen that were there felt... But the fear of feeling it? Well... It makes me want to be a hero.
Talking about "Heroes" tonight made me remember this story.
. I want to share it, because to me, heroes are not defined by the status their actions may bring them, but instead by what action they will willingly give themselves to... for the sake of another, seeking nothing in return. This one event created a lasting impression on me, and here for the first time in a long time; I saw what I think heroes truly look like.
I've had to change the names, but I promise the story is true... I hope it blesses you.6/10/11
"She's Gone."
Just moments ago, I received that simple text message. Two words, simple and expected, but devastating.
" Jasmine", who would have been five years old in little more than a week, had finally lost her fight with Cancer. I had met Jasmine through my girlfriend, and at the beginning of our relationship, we took the picture you see above. She had met Jasmine and her family while volunteering at Duke University's Oncology department. She had helped the girl's family that day, and the picture above is from the simple dinner they prepared for us, their way of saying " Thank you."
Despite the best efforts of the medical professionals, the child grew worse. I vividly remember the night the child's mother called, panic in her voice as she begged my girlfriend for help. We had to be on a plane at 4am the next morning, but still ( at my girlfriend's insistence) we drove to their house and picked them up, mother and child, so they would have a way to the emergency room. I have never felt so helpless as I did that night, listening to her whimper in the back seat, her tiny voice saying, over and over; " me duele, me duele." ( it hurts me, it hurts me) I asked later what it meant, but there was no need... somehow I already known..
Earlier today, my girlfriend rushed out of class to be with Jasmine and her family, stopping only long enough to pick up dinner for them. She called me on her way, and I was moved by the genuine concern I could hear in her voice as we talked. Mary ( the girls mother) had called her earlier in near panic, begging her to come. She had not been there long when I received the text. " She's Gone."
My girlfriend didn't go because she had to, or because she would get some satisfaction from going. She didn't go because everyone would know what she had done. Until this post, only a very few knew the story. No one was watching, and there was no medal for her to carry away. She owed those people nothing, would profit nothing to suffer with them, but still she went. Her motive was simple... Love. Not fleshly temporal love, but the love that each of us should nurture in our own hearts, love that seeks no self fulfillment, but is simply an echo of the Love shown us by Christ. This was heroism. This was Christianity, and this one event taught me more about Christianity than any of the time I spent in bible college.
As firefighters we are blessed to be in a position of "helping", being there for those crisis moments when no one knows what to do.We assist those in desperate need, making sense of it all. This too, I believe; is very Christ-like. However, we are also very isolated from the reality that exists outside of each "scene." When our work there is done, we go back to station, clean the gear, do the reports, and move on. This is our refuge. If we were unable to disconnect from the tragedies and trauma, I don't think our careers would last very long. We cope, we grow; distancing ourselves further from the pain, but perhaps also further away from our reason for being here in the first place. Maybe the callused, distant veteran doesn't even remember the "hero" he wanted to be.
This one event however, was something I was forced to see in it's totality. I saw it up close and personal, and I learned what heroes really look like.
They don't always look like a "Rescue". The guys in Katrina's yard that night, dejected, exhausted... they were heroes. They don't always look like superman in a "10-10". Because to this firefighter heroes don't always look like the guy who saved a life, or put out the most fire.
Sometimes heroes look like people who didn't have to be there. People who couldn't change the outcome. But People who were there anyways, and gave it everything they had.
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