Dear Hubby,
Holy crap! Eight long years have passed. It's been a remarkably hard, long, amazing, fun, laughter-filled, anxious, tearful, annoying, precious ride. And we've only just begun. Are you ready for the next eight? How about the eight after that, and after that...
I don't think either of us was prepared for what it meant to be married. We've made some mistakes, and we've each had to eat crow. We've loved hard and cried even harder. You've picked me up, dressed me, carried me, encouraged me, held me and loved me. You've suffered through my hormonal swings, my uncertainty and my constantly changing decorating ideas :) You've continued to become a man of God, and to persist in letting Him change and mold you into the man and the husband He's calling you to be.
I am so proud of you and of the decisions you are making. I pray that I can be the wife that He calls you to have for the next 88 years, starting right now, the first day of our ninth year of marriage. Lots of changes are coming our way, and I know that with Christ at the center, we will continue to succeed. He has great plans for us, and I can hardly wait!
Love, me
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Where have I been?
30 years is a long time to pass. In December, I will celebrate surviving 30 years. And there's a million things that I should have accomplished by now. I actually thought I'd have done it all by the age of 25, but when that didn't happen, I pushed back my date to the age of 30. Ready to join my pity party? On my list:
*Becoming a kick butt secret agent that puts the bad guys away
*Living in a foreign country
*Partying with famous people
*Getting a college degree
*Having children
*Loving my job
*Saving the world
*Promoting world peace as an ambassador for like UNICEF
*Performing on stage
*Being a garbageMAN (ok, so that's from when I was like 2, and that was my career aspiration.)
*Seeing the 7 Wonders up close
*Meeting mysterious men in every country I traveled to
*Finding a cure for cancer
*Making so much money that all I can do is donate it to others
*Finding world peace
*Rescuing people from themselves
*Running for office
*Taking a road trip with no destination
*Feeding the homeless
*Saving the whales
*Own a Corvette/Ferrari/some expensive sports car
And a million more things. I have less than 3 months to accomplish everything. Think it'll happen?
Nah.
Think I'll still turn 30?
Yup.
Guess I'll have revamp, and come up with a new list of what really matters and of what I really want to do before I turn 40.
*Becoming a kick butt secret agent that puts the bad guys away
*Living in a foreign country
*Partying with famous people
*Getting a college degree
*Having children
*Loving my job
*Saving the world
*Promoting world peace as an ambassador for like UNICEF
*Performing on stage
*Being a garbageMAN (ok, so that's from when I was like 2, and that was my career aspiration.)
*Seeing the 7 Wonders up close
*Meeting mysterious men in every country I traveled to
*Finding a cure for cancer
*Making so much money that all I can do is donate it to others
*Finding world peace
*Rescuing people from themselves
*Running for office
*Taking a road trip with no destination
*Feeding the homeless
*Saving the whales
*Own a Corvette/Ferrari/some expensive sports car
And a million more things. I have less than 3 months to accomplish everything. Think it'll happen?
Nah.
Think I'll still turn 30?
Yup.
Guess I'll have revamp, and come up with a new list of what really matters and of what I really want to do before I turn 40.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
There's No Place Like Home
After the baby died, there was another tragedy in town that I had to work. However, I've now made it through a couple of rotations where nobody has died a tragic or traumatic death. In fact, nobody has died on my shift in about 3 weeks. This is good. It's been long enough that while I'm still remembering the important things in my life, everyday irritants are coming back.
I'm tired of living in a construction zone. It's a million degrees outside, and nobody but the millionaires have air conditioning in their homes in Podunk, so all my windows are open. All I hear are big trucks.
Yesterday I dragged myself home and tried to go to sleep. The construction was beginning before my head even hit the pillow. I was then fortunate enough to have workers hollering back and forth at each other (before 0800 I might add). To top off my morning, as I was finally drifting to sleep, the County began beating on my door. I dragged myself down the stairs (after fighting off the puppies that wanted to go to the door with me) and flung open the door to greet someone with my hair sticking up in interesting positions, my pajamas slightly twisted to one side and my eyes barely open. The man wanted to trim my trees. Then he wanted to cut down my trees. I finally said to him, look, bucko (okay, I didn't really call him that), I just got off a 12 hour graveyard shift at the police department. He says, oh, so you're tired? Can you be any slower to catch on????!!! I said cut down the bleeping trees (again, I didn't really say that). Then I had to wait and listen to the chainsaws.
This morning my neighbor began calling at 0700. I had finally gone to sleep at 0300. I call her back and she proceeds to share that she's coming over so we can discuss terminating the condominium. I'm again, in my pajamas. I did brush my teeth for her. She then tells me she wants to file this today with the County Clerk. So I have to put on clothing over my non-showered-non-hair-washed physique, go to the bank where I HATE going inside, and obtain a notary seal. I understand that nobody will secure a home loan for a condominium in Podunk right now, but that's really her problem and not mine, and I just wanted to sleep late and then take a bubble bath and shave my legs that haven't been shaved in over 2 weeks. They resemble a forest, and any day bugs would take up residence. But whatever, I'll help her out.
Now the doggone dog won't stop licking my finally shaved legs. The other dog keeps climbing in my lap because since I'm up it must be play time. The construction workers are using beautiful language at tones that are carrying throughout my house. The neighbor is beating on her walls. And I really just want to go to bed, but I still have a meeting that I said I could be at no problem because I was planning to sleep until now.
I wish I had ruby red shoes and could chant "there's no place like home" but I am home.
I'm tired of living in a construction zone. It's a million degrees outside, and nobody but the millionaires have air conditioning in their homes in Podunk, so all my windows are open. All I hear are big trucks.
Yesterday I dragged myself home and tried to go to sleep. The construction was beginning before my head even hit the pillow. I was then fortunate enough to have workers hollering back and forth at each other (before 0800 I might add). To top off my morning, as I was finally drifting to sleep, the County began beating on my door. I dragged myself down the stairs (after fighting off the puppies that wanted to go to the door with me) and flung open the door to greet someone with my hair sticking up in interesting positions, my pajamas slightly twisted to one side and my eyes barely open. The man wanted to trim my trees. Then he wanted to cut down my trees. I finally said to him, look, bucko (okay, I didn't really call him that), I just got off a 12 hour graveyard shift at the police department. He says, oh, so you're tired? Can you be any slower to catch on????!!! I said cut down the bleeping trees (again, I didn't really say that). Then I had to wait and listen to the chainsaws.
This morning my neighbor began calling at 0700. I had finally gone to sleep at 0300. I call her back and she proceeds to share that she's coming over so we can discuss terminating the condominium. I'm again, in my pajamas. I did brush my teeth for her. She then tells me she wants to file this today with the County Clerk. So I have to put on clothing over my non-showered-non-hair-washed physique, go to the bank where I HATE going inside, and obtain a notary seal. I understand that nobody will secure a home loan for a condominium in Podunk right now, but that's really her problem and not mine, and I just wanted to sleep late and then take a bubble bath and shave my legs that haven't been shaved in over 2 weeks. They resemble a forest, and any day bugs would take up residence. But whatever, I'll help her out.
Now the doggone dog won't stop licking my finally shaved legs. The other dog keeps climbing in my lap because since I'm up it must be play time. The construction workers are using beautiful language at tones that are carrying throughout my house. The neighbor is beating on her walls. And I really just want to go to bed, but I still have a meeting that I said I could be at no problem because I was planning to sleep until now.
I wish I had ruby red shoes and could chant "there's no place like home" but I am home.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Serious Moments
This was the first shift where a baby has died.
I realize that I'm very fortunate that in six years as an emergency dispatcher, I've never lost a child, much less a baby. I've lost many adults (and some that were children of the caller), and I've had to begin CPR instructions several times. I've heard terrible scenes unfold over the radio and the phone. But I've never lost a baby.
I didn't even take the call. My partner, a fairly new dispatcher, rocked the call. She was amazing. Great poise, great control. She's a single mom of a small child, and I know it was really, really hard for her. She was fantastic.
I obviously didn't respond to the scene. Three officers, two with children, and one without, responded. Multiple firefighters/EMTs/paramedics, some with and some without children at home, responded. The first officer was greeted with the mother and the not-breathing, not- responding baby, and escorted the ambulance and fire engines to the hospital. The fire department didn't even pause at the house; they simply grabbed the child and transported to the hospital, working all the way. All the responders were fantastic.
I simply handled the radio traffic and the subsequent calls. As I tried to explain to the chaplains tonight that were debriefing us, I really thought I was fine until I heard from one of my responders, and I knew he was not fine; he was devastated. And that devastated me.
The whole chaplain/debriefing situation is fairly new to us. We spend most of our careers at the worst point of people's lives, and once one call is finished, there's another call waiting. We don't always have the chance to recover from one call before something else rolls in. And in my part of the field, I don't get to know the outcome of the call, or what really happened. All I have is my imagination, based on what the caller told me, the caller's tone of voice, the officer or firefighter's tone of voice, and past experience. And in calls like this call, my officer's voice over the radio told me immediately that he was shaken. It wasn't his words (he just said he was with the mother), it was the tone and hours I've spent with him, talking with him and building a relationship with him so that past experience told me it was bad.
I don't know how many of the officers really wanted to be debriefed. It goes against everything we've been taught--the old school just be callous and roll on train of thought. The fire department is great about debriefing, and the chaplains had already been with them after the call. It happened at our shift change(both my partner and I and my officers), and the chaplains came back for us when we reported back to duty. The officers trekked into dispatch, where we and the chaplains had already talked for about a half an hour. One officer was open, and the other two were silent. Pain rolled off of them in large waves. They didn't say much, but just the act of them responding for us--and I really do believe that they responded to check on my partner and I--spoke volumes. We've had some disagreements with this team of officers, but in a moment of crisis, it's all gone. When it was said and done, I know that they care about me, and that our "family" is back. Out of so much pain, anger and ultimately death, comes strength and love.
I hope this never happens again. Unfortunately, it will. As will many other, terrible calls. And I have so much respect for those that choose to work in this field. We are truly blessed to have each other.
I realize that I'm very fortunate that in six years as an emergency dispatcher, I've never lost a child, much less a baby. I've lost many adults (and some that were children of the caller), and I've had to begin CPR instructions several times. I've heard terrible scenes unfold over the radio and the phone. But I've never lost a baby.
I didn't even take the call. My partner, a fairly new dispatcher, rocked the call. She was amazing. Great poise, great control. She's a single mom of a small child, and I know it was really, really hard for her. She was fantastic.
I obviously didn't respond to the scene. Three officers, two with children, and one without, responded. Multiple firefighters/EMTs/paramedics, some with and some without children at home, responded. The first officer was greeted with the mother and the not-breathing, not- responding baby, and escorted the ambulance and fire engines to the hospital. The fire department didn't even pause at the house; they simply grabbed the child and transported to the hospital, working all the way. All the responders were fantastic.
I simply handled the radio traffic and the subsequent calls. As I tried to explain to the chaplains tonight that were debriefing us, I really thought I was fine until I heard from one of my responders, and I knew he was not fine; he was devastated. And that devastated me.
The whole chaplain/debriefing situation is fairly new to us. We spend most of our careers at the worst point of people's lives, and once one call is finished, there's another call waiting. We don't always have the chance to recover from one call before something else rolls in. And in my part of the field, I don't get to know the outcome of the call, or what really happened. All I have is my imagination, based on what the caller told me, the caller's tone of voice, the officer or firefighter's tone of voice, and past experience. And in calls like this call, my officer's voice over the radio told me immediately that he was shaken. It wasn't his words (he just said he was with the mother), it was the tone and hours I've spent with him, talking with him and building a relationship with him so that past experience told me it was bad.
I don't know how many of the officers really wanted to be debriefed. It goes against everything we've been taught--the old school just be callous and roll on train of thought. The fire department is great about debriefing, and the chaplains had already been with them after the call. It happened at our shift change(both my partner and I and my officers), and the chaplains came back for us when we reported back to duty. The officers trekked into dispatch, where we and the chaplains had already talked for about a half an hour. One officer was open, and the other two were silent. Pain rolled off of them in large waves. They didn't say much, but just the act of them responding for us--and I really do believe that they responded to check on my partner and I--spoke volumes. We've had some disagreements with this team of officers, but in a moment of crisis, it's all gone. When it was said and done, I know that they care about me, and that our "family" is back. Out of so much pain, anger and ultimately death, comes strength and love.
I hope this never happens again. Unfortunately, it will. As will many other, terrible calls. And I have so much respect for those that choose to work in this field. We are truly blessed to have each other.
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