Forty. Fat. Female.

The dreaded "F" word.    I'm two of those things.  And I'd like to fix one of those things within the next year and a half.   I was told a few weeks ago that I had type 2 diabetes.  Couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for my diagnosis, given the pattern of my eating habits over the past few years.  Food is my comfort, my crutch, my go to when I'm stressed, sad, angry, lonely.  My sweet tooth actually has a sugar coating on it I think!    The other part though, is my fathers side.  Strong genetic string of diabetes.  My nan, my dad, my sister, many aunts, uncles, cousins.  There's really no escaping it, however, I didn't have to make it so easy to find it's way into my life.

When I was pregnant for the first time, I was overweight.  I only gained 15 lbs, but with that pregnancy, I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes.  My son was 9 lbs 11 oz.  After giving birth, I breastfed for 3 months, exercised daily as I had a wedding dress to fit into.  I'd lost 50 lbs. The diabetes was gone from my body once I delivered, and all was right in the world.

2nd pregnancy, I was not as over weight, however I gained an astonishing 60 lbs.  That pregnancy, I didn't have gestational diabetes (although I beg to differ).  My 2nd son was born weighing a wopping 11 lbs! 

In 2013 I was at my heaviest.  I had many friends offering support.  I was depressed, hated the way I looked, was going through a bad marriage.  After a lot of prodding, I decided to give Isagenix a try.   I did the 30 day cleanse system for 90 days.  And I lost 50 lbs.  I felt amazing, everyone said I looked great (why no one says you look good when you're overweight is sad.  I try hard to look nice whatever my size, yet I only get compliments when I'm society's "thinner" view).  I had a good summer that year.  My mom & I took my boys to Florida at the end of August.  There I gained back 15-20 lbs.  Then there was thanksgiving, Halloween, gallbladder removal, Christmas... more troubled marriage stuff...  My mom & I went to Cuba in the winter and I came home another 20 lbs heavier.  Damn pina coladas! 

I lost my drive to continue the isagenix lifestyle.  And it showed me, that no matter how easy it was to lose the weight, if I didn't change my eating habits and daily exercise routine (or at least start a routine) than nothing would change. 

In May 2014 I finally decided to file for divorce.  What a sense of failure that comes with.  All these stupid MEMEs on facebook saying that no one decides to work on a marriage, they just walk away, blah blah blah.  Screw all of you.  I tried.  I tried for 8 years, longer than we were married!  I decided that I didn't deserve the constant verbal abuse I was getting.  I didn't deserve to be unhappy and in a marriage alone.  I decided that if I was going to be a single mother, while married and unhappy, I might as well be a single mother, and be divorced.  If I have to do it all, while the other is sitting downstairs doing their own thing, then well, I'll do it alone!  So I did.  Now that didn't come without a lot of heartache, a lot of fighting, a lot of stress, and a lot of eating.    I'd gained back all the weight I'd lost using isagenix, and then some. 

Fast forward to two weeks ago.  My doctor's office calls to tell me that I'm diabetic.  A phone call I take while eating a huge bowl of mint chip ice cream.  Ironic.  No wonder my blood is full of sugar.  That's my entire diet these days.  Box of cookies here, tub of ice cream there, throw in a few shots of reddi whip in my mouth on the way past the fridge. And don't forget the pop.  Who needs water when you've good this liquid gold.

That day, then and there, I decided to take my life back.  I decided that I was worth something, that my kids deserved to have a healthy mother.  I have tried every single day to get on the treadmill and run for at least 30 minutes.  The furthest I have gone is 2.5 km.  Slow and steady...  I've also found work out stuff at local thrift shops and have created a nice little "gym" in my basement.  No excuses.

I have a great support system around me who will give me the nudge when I just want to go to bed.  My kids are great cheerleaders too, running to get more water, turning on the fan when I'm a sweaty pig on the treadmill.  You name it, they're there for me. 

My goal is to initially lose those 60 lbs I gained back.  I am doing some isagenix stuff again, mainly the shakes as they are good for breakfast.  I am trying to run daily for 30 minutes and then I do weights/workout on arms/legs, etc for another... well until I'm weak lol.  After those 60 lbs are gone, we are going to reevaluate my need for medication for diabetes.  I'd love to get off all medication.  Fingers cross, I think I can do it!  If I can lose 100 lbs at least from where I am now, well, I'll probably walk around naked haha! 

Seriously though, I want to be there for my kids. I want to reduce my risk of heart disease.  I want to be able to play with my children and not just ask to sit on my butt.  I want it and I will do it.

One. Step. At. A. Time.

And when I'm 40, I will not be fat. 

Challenges and Triumphs

Well, I did it.  I completed another 5K obstacle course.  And I did it with my 66 year old mother.  We walked, we ran, I tripped and fell face first into the sand, we laughed, we panted, we finished.  It was hard, but amazing to finish.  It was a foam fest with inflatable obstacles.  It was fun.  However, it was held at a very sandy beach area, complete with never ending sand dunes.  Let me tell you, our feet felt like they were cement blocks once they were coated with that sand.  Still we persevered.  And we got a nice medal to add to our collection, and a funky colourful towel!

It has been a pretty productive summer.  We have gone on two four day camping trips, one without electricity and one with.  The second one we were SO glad to have electicity so we could have our little fan in the tent.  It was SO HUMID.  We have had such a dry and HOT humid summer thus far.  We love camping, and I love the memories my children are creating.  We used to have a huge 33 ft long travel trailer... complete with slide outs and bunk beds.  Alas, in the separation from my ex husband we had to sell it.  And take a HUGE loss on it.  So now we have a tent... and cots... and it's FUN.  My back sometimes says different! 

We also went to Blue Mountain for four days, we hiked, swam, listened to music, danced, rode the gondola, kids did high ropes... we smiled!  It was great fun.  I was so proud of my youngest who put on brave pants and tried the ropes course for the first time. Ok, so technically it's "low ropes" course, but it's freaking high!

I just want to give them so much in life, but let them know that things aren't free and you have to work hard for them.  We raised money for this last trip, and I worked an overtime shift on a stat holiday, so i was able to make double time.  Woot woot.  My kids now know if they want something, they best find some toys to sell!

I wanted to write so much more tonight, but now I'm just rambling, so I'll end it here.  For now.

You Can Be Anything!

Today my son had his soccer tournament.  He's 8.  Most of the time, the kids are chasing the ball for a bit, and then standing waiting for it to come to them.    It's quite comical to watch, really.  Over the past few weeks, I've seen such improvement in our team.  I've seen the kids grow with each other, become great team players.  I've seen fantastic passes, great defense, I've seen them overcome frustration when they played a stacked team, over and over again.  This one team, the dreaded yellow team, was rumoured to have a few 11 year old boys on the team.  This team is the under 9.  NINE.  but, because some kids want to play with their friends, they're allowed on the team.  Our team was killed by the yellow kids more than once, and boy were they getting frustrated.  Defeated.  Saddened.  At one point my son said he didn't want to play soccer again.  It didn't continue to be fun for him.  How could it when all you do is get beat up by the opposite team.

Well, last Thursday night, a fire lit under their little feet.  They lost again to that yellow team, but they found something better.  They found they had courage, drive, will.  They didn't give up.  My son is a bigger kid.  He learned he could play great defense, and charge the kids coming at him and every time he won, got the ball from that kid that was coming at him.  He felt powerful.  He felt important.

Today, during the tournament, they won one game and lost their other.  It's the end of the outdoor season, but my son has excitedly asked to be signed up for indoor soccer again this fall/winter.  I have a feeling in my gut he could become great.  He asked me if he could be a professional soccer player, and when I said he could be anything in the world, he said "well, when I'm a professional soccer player and I'm playing all over the world, I will get you tickets for free so you can come and watch me."  God I love him. 

I wouldn't miss it for the world!

When The World Hurts

I have an image in my head.  It's stuck there, because someone posted it on the internet, and it ended up in my facebook timeline and I saw it.  I wish I could unsee it.  It is SO sad, so heartbreaking. 

The picture shows a baby doll, laying beside a foil blanket, under which lies a poor innocent child who was run down and killed.  Killed by some asshole person who thinks, well, who the hell knows what he thinks.  He killed, 84 I believe is the number now, innocent people, including many children in Nice, France.  He drove his truck through a crowd of people, people who were celebrating, having fun, laughing.  Then, it turned to screams, fear, terror, gunshots.   They killed him dead.   I'm so glad they shot that bastard dead.

But I can't unsee that picture.


I can't stop thinking about that picture.

I can't stop thinking about the sadness, the anger, the fear, the terror.  WHY did this happen?  Why do bad, horrible things continue to happen. 

I hate it.  I hate that the world is a scary place.  I hate that NO WHERE is safe.  Not one place is safe.  This was a tourist area.   A place for fun, for making memories, for joyous laughter, smiles and love.

We need the love.

I try though to remember a quote I read online one day...

"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping." — Mister Rogers

I am a helper. 

My coworkers are helpers, my friends are helpers.  For 17  years I have been a helper.    Let's all be helpers and let's make this world a better place.

Shootings. Blood. Sadness. Tears. FEAR.

I fear that one day, in my job, I will be the subject of an ambush of some crazed lunatic with a gun.  I fear that I will not come home to see my children.  I fear that my boys will grow up without their mother.

This past week there have been numerous news reports with regards to shootings in the states.  It seems like an every day occurrence down there.  I don't understand why.  I don't understand why people, SNIPERS, would hide out, during a "peaceful protest" and shoot officers there to protect them.  I don't get it. 

Years ago, and I mean more than 10 years ago, a person called for help, the officer arrived and then he was shot dead.  My coworkers had to also respond to that call, now to try and save the life of the shot officer.  It was too late, he was dead.   Apparently this person had had plans to shoot to kill any more cops who arrived, but he was stopped, thankfully.  As paramedics, we wear black uniforms too, or dark blue, but still, they're dark (probably to hide the blood, or coffee stains), so we are often mistaken for police officers.  We are often yelled at for coming to help someone, until they realize we are paramedics.  Why the hate for the police is beyond me.  They have a job to do, just like the rest of us.

It's not a job I would want, but I have many friends that I have made over the past 17 years who are.  I know they will protect me in my time of need.    But still,, I worry.  I worry that one day I wont come home.

Lets stop the hate.

Doesn't Matter How Hard We Try

Sometimes nothing we do seems to work.  Sometimes we try so hard and end up with the same outcome.  It can be so frustrating when you give it your all, but you don't see any changes.  Case in point...  my oldest has been struggling with social issues.  I've taken him to counselling, we've done exercises, we've worked with teachers and school staff, yet we still get the same outcome.  I'm coming to the realization that it might be time for medication to step in.  You see, his teacher and now his counselor are concerned he may have ADHD.  They think once medication is onboard his issues will start to decrease and he will have a better experience in life.  This poor child has been dealt a tough life so far.  He has been exposed to a bad marriage where his dad belittled his mother, witnessed and has been the recipient of verbal abuse from that same man and also struggles with alienation from friends because of his severe food allergy.  It's no wonder he doesn't stay calm, or gets angry and lashes out when he's upset.  Because he has seen it.  First hand.

My hope for him is that once we speak to the doctor, and he starts a medication program, he will feel more at peace.

It's hard being a parent.  You want the best for your children, but always worry you're not doing it right, or that somehow, you're screwing them up.

Fingers crossed everything will work out in the end!

Death & A Paramedic

As a paramedic I have seen death.  A LOT.  I have heard someone take their last breath, I have pounded on someone's chest trying to save them.  I have shocked their heart and seen their muscles contract so much that their body moves.


I have held the hands of an elderly woman mourning the sudden loss of her husband.  I have hugged the husband sobbing in disbelief that his life long partner passed away in her sleep.  I have consoled children, parents, strangers, myself.

People often ask me, how do you deal with dead people?  Well, most often it's that I didn't know them alive, so their death means nothing to my life.  Cold hearted?  Maybe, necessary, yes.   If I stop to look around at pictures, in the homes where someone has died, then I will find myself thinking of them in their life they once had.  The heart strings start to tug and, well, we can't fall apart on a call.  We can't cry with them.  They called us for help.  We have to be strong.    It's just the way it is.


So after 17 years, I've sort of mastered the cold heart.  So much so, that when one of my own family members pass on, it find it hard to grieve.  Sure I'm sad.  Sure it sucks when someone dies.  And usually for the most part their death doesn't' affect my daily activities.  You see, my grandmother had 12 children.  Naturally we ended up with a large family.   Death was introduced to me at a very very young age.  I've come to accept that it's a part of life.  I've become the strong one that people turn to because they know I've dealt with death on a more regular basis than they have.  Between work and family, I've lost track of the death toll.

A few days ago my wonderful Aunt died.  It was an unexpected death, complications from surgery, coupled with declining health and old age.  I am sad that I never got to see her one last time.  It's been years since I've seen her, so long that my kids don't even recognize her by pictures.  That saddens me.  It saddens me that our family has gotten so big and so busy that we don't get together anymore, and then it's too late.  My Aunt was in her 70s.  She had no children, had been widowed when I was young, and found a partner to stand by her side since.  I believe she was happy, had such a kind soul, was rough around the edges, liked to smoke and liked to play guitar.   I have fond memories of Chirstmas gatherings at her home many years ago.

As we prepare to say goodbye to her at the end of this week, I'm struggling somewhat with my feelings.  I haven't cried for her.  I'm sure I will, when the time is right.  Right now, I'm trying to be strong for my dad, who is falling apart.  I am trying to be the voice of reason - she was unwell the past few years, her quality of life was declining, she wouldn't want us all to be sad.  She's up in the clouds having a blast with siblings and her parents that have gone before her.  She is at peace and she will always be with us.  Always.



I feel her with me when I speak her name, just like I feel my nan (her mother) with me.  Shivers run through my body and I know it's her.  That brings me peace, knowing we are not alone.  Knowing that they are watching out over us.  Knowing that someday we will see them again.



Until then, I keep my cold hardened heart and become the strength for those around me.

The life of a paramedic.

How My Dad Makes Me Feel.

tupid.

Inadequate.

Unable to think for myself.

Unable to make my own decisions.

This is how I felt tonight when I arrived home from working a 12 hour shift.  My dad has been helping me out with childcare since my regular babysitter was let go.  It's hard to find a child care provider for kids when the parent works shifts.  No one wants to work split shifts or shifts that long.  Thankfully my dad stepped up to the plate to help me out.   

Anyhow, back to today.  My kids and I are starting a little veggie garden.  My mom last year bought us a raised garden bed.  Today my dad and kids put it together.  Last week I told my dad I would be cutting up our pool liner (bought a used above ground pool from my cousin - it's still in my garage...) as it's probably got some holes in it from being dragged all over the yard, etc for the past 2 years.  I said I'd cut the liner to put in the bottom of the garden to stop the weeds.  My neighbour thought it was a great idea.  I guess my dad sees money going out the window because he tried to tell me that he would cut some wood, then lay down papers and then put plastic over it all.  He thinks I should use the pool liner in the pool when I put it up.  Like I'm going to install a pool liner that more than likely has some small holes in it and have a leak, then have to get someone to reinstall a new liner.  I'd rather spend the money now and get a new liner.  He is so goddamn cheap it drives me nuts.  

He also tells me, oh don't use those boards under the deck to line the garden box... uh, no Dad, those are DECK BOARDS.  Really, like I'm that stupid that I would use my left over deck boards.  Give me some credit.  It's like he thinks I'm five years old or something.  And when I question him on it, he gets all mad and defensive.  It's SO irritating.

I am thankful though, for all his help.  I just wish he were more like my mom.  Like my mom knows not to tell me how awful my children have been the moment I walk in the door.  She gives it some time.  My dad?  Nope,  seems as soon as I set foot in the house, he's all over why the kids missed their ipad time or whatnot.  He doesn't understand, no matter how much I tell him, that this stresses me out and if they didn't kill each other, I really don't need to know.  Seems like he can deal with them and then move on.  That would be ideal.

So now I have to sit back and think... pros and cons to having my dad around to help.  There are a lot on both sides...  but, in the end my kids are getting precious time with their grandpa.  And my kids are hopefully helping my dad stay sober since he has this important job to do now.

So to all you dads out there, please give your daughters room to grow, to be their own person.  Know that we can do it on our own, and we have brains in our heads.  Give us the opportunity to make mistakes and to learn from them.  Thank you for always being by our sides...

My Heart Strings Are Broken

It is always a sad time for me when my boys go away to their grandparents house to visit their dad for his weekend.  It's heartbreaking when they come home and tell me their weekend was full of anger & yelling.

You see, my ex father-in law was never a nice man when I was around.  He barks orders, expects children to be seen and not heard.  I never saw love from him.  He is harsh and quite frankly I couldn't stand the man.  My mom had the same feelings.

Always at night I ask my children about their happy and their sad for the day, or in the case when they're away for a weekend, I ask about the happy/sad for the weekend.  For the past while, they've always had more sad than happy when they're gone.  Tonight was no exception.  I speak to the boys separately, in their rooms, as they're tucked into bed.  I ask them about their buckets and how full they are.

I'll start with my youngest.  Little A tells me that Grandpa J yelled at him a LOT this weekend.  Told him to be quiet while he watched his TV shows.  He couldn't even make truck noises without getting scolded.  When I asked where Daddy was, he said sleeping.  I asked if Daddy slept a lot when they were up there and he replied yes.  Makes my heart sad to know that their dad only gets one full day if that to spend with them, and he chooses sleep over spending time with them.  He continued on with stories of sadness, and when I had asked about his happy, it was me.  Coming home and seeing me.  While I love that about him, I cry inside thinking of this poor sad child.  He told me he didn't want to go back again, and quite frankly, I don't blame him.

(image copied from a google search)


Oldest kid C tells me that he hates Grandpa J, that he is so mean.  He says he's told to go outside to play, when they don't have anything there for the kids to play with.  They don't have a yard, their cottage is built on a hill, full of rocks.  Sure it would be fun to play on, if a grown up went outside to play with them.  When I asked C where Dad was, he said sleeping.    I ask them about what they eat as well  - they tell me they had nachos and cheese for dinner and said when he asked his dad for something more/else to eat, his dad said no.  He told me he wanted something healthier.  Bless his little heart.  He also tells me he doesn't want to go back up there again, and would like for his dad to come to our house for the weekend.   What a position that puts me in.  I don't want this to happen, yet I don't want the kids going to a place that is full of anger.    They came back early today, but I was still at work.  C said that Daddy spent his time here on his phone and his computer, put his own shows on the TV and wouldn't let the kids watch their own shows.  He made them go & play, but ignored them the entire time.  He also told me he their dad was on my Facebook.  SO not cool.  Of course the dad will deny any and all accusations, as that's what he always does.  He does NO wrong.
When I asked C about his bucket.... he said pretty much empty.  But then said, but with you and grandma (my mom) it's overflowing.



This is when I hate the life of a shift worker.  If I didn't work every other weekend, I'd keep them home with me and give their dad day visits if he decided he wanted that.  I just might see if I can get my parents to do some weekend shifts for me, but I don't feel good about taking away their weekends.  My mom still works full time, so she likes her freedom on the weekend.  And looking after little boys is exhausting.  My dad might be able to handle it, but 12+ hrs is a lot of work for a 67 yr old.  I honestly don't know what to do.

It's been almost 2 years since I filed for divorce, and we are still going through the motions of our financial statements.  Mine was completed within the first few months, and we have been waiting on my ex to finish his since.  My lawyer calls him an ostrich.  He said he sticks his head in the sand hoping this will all go away.  It won't though and we need to move on.  My ex has had two years to save up for either a down payment, or first and last for a rental.  None of which he has done.  He belly aches that he has no money, yet he goes to the states for a mock prison riot every year and every September he takes a week off work and bikes from Niagara Falls to Ottawa for the police memorial ride.  Sure it's a great cause, but it's expensive to do. The bike was over a grand, and then each year you have your hotel costs.  I just don't understand his priorities.  He would have more time with the kids if he was closer and had his own place.

I could go on and on, but there's really no point.  I think I know what I have to do.  It will be hard, but I hope my family will stand by me.  Or perhaps I'll have to hire a live in nanny!  Oh wouldn't that be lovely!

I'm off now for two days and I plan on spending that time hugging and loving my boys, letting them know they are my everything.



So if you are a dad out there, please know that what you do affects your children.  How you treat them will and does make a difference.  This goes for mothers as well.  Our children are our greatest gifts, and they should be treated with so much love and kindness.  They are our number one, always.

*** please note pictures are not my own.  they are copied from google images ***

Realizing I'm FAT.

So there it is.  The never ending battle with body image.  I've pictured myself overweight my whole life.  Now looking back, most of that time I was just fine.  It's unfortunate that we grow up in a world that teaches us to be stick thin.

As a child I was very active in sports.  I did soccer, gymnastics, swimming and figure skating.  I became a life guard and also a swimming instructor.  Needless to say, I am content being in a bathing suit.  Now though, I'm more aware of the added rolls.  Looking through old pictures of myself, I shake my head.  I was a good looking young lady.  I was fit and I was healthy.  No I wasn't a small size like a lot of my friends, but man, if I could go back and tell myself what I  know now, geeze, that would be amazing.

My problem of late is that I have become a stress eater.  Or perhaps I've always been one.  After the birth of my oldest, I lost 50 lbs through exercise and breast feeding.  I felt great.  I looked great on my wedding day, yet I still felt heavy.  I'd gotten down to 170 lbs.  Which, by the BMI standards I was still overweight.   According to that damn thing, I should probably be 130 lbs!  Fast forward two years to when I was pregnant with my 2nd.  I gained... SEVENTY pounds.  70!  I honestly thought it was no biggie since I'd lost it so easy with my first.  WRONG.  With the second, I didn't have the energy or time to exercise (now with two kids), my infant broke his first two teeth through within the first 2 months, so that ended breastfeeding quickly.  I couldn't go through the learning phase of him not biting me while feeding.  So bottles it was.  And with that, the weight stayed on.

I also think the weight crept on and stayed on because of my emotional eating.  I wasn't in a good relationship.  Now my then husband had no issues with the size of my body.  He was always quite content with whatever I looked like.  But the sadness and anger in our relationship led me to food.  A few years back my friend introduced me to isagenix.  I did 90 days.  By. The. Book.  I lost 50 lbs.  I looked great, I felt great - now I was still 20 lbs heavier than on my wedding day, but 50 lbs lost made a world of difference.  I was full of energy, I felt good in clothes and I could breathe.  That summer we went to Disney, my mother and the boys and I.  Well, there I put on 20 lbs.  The happiest place on earth has THE best desserts.    Then Christmas came, and then my mom and I went to Cuba for a week... another 20 lbs gained.  IN A WEEK.  Brutal.  All those pina coladas, strawberry daiquiris, pastries for breakfast, etc. well they added up.  Pretty soon my pants were too tight again and I was back where I'd started.  Well, my friend that had introduced me to the products sort of turned his back on me because I wasn't interested in the business aspect of isagenix.  I wanted it just for me.  He didn't feel the need to offer support any longer I guess.  Eventually I gave up.  Fast forward a few months to when I filed for divorce.  They don't tell you that divorce not only costs money, but you gain weight too!  At least in my case.  I've gained and lost another 10-15 lbs.

Now, I am 10 lbs over where I was when I started isagenix.  I feel like dirt, I look like shit and I have zero motivation to do anything about it.  I know what needs to be done to lose the weight - eat better and exercise.  So why don't I do it?  No idea.  I'm hoping something will click inside me and jump start the fire that I know is there.

This August my mom & I and some friends have signed up for a 5 km Foam Fest obstacle course "run".  I'm going to attempt to NOT walk the whole thing like we did last year at the warrior dash.  I'd like to be fit enough to be able to do a slow jog even.  My kids have shown interest in working out, so I"ve been pinning pins to my fitness boards and my hope is that we'll actually come up with a plan to do it.  Now though, when I look back at those pictures, where I thought I was fat, what I wouldn't give to look that good now.

What the hell, today is my day.  I change NOW.

Hmmm....

I don't know what I want to write today, I just know that I feel like typing something.  So here goes and we'll see what comes up.

I've been back to work now for a few weeks and it's been going alright.  I don't find I'm panicked or worried much.  What I have found is that I realize how negative some people are.  I don't know if it was my month off that gave me the break, to let go of the negative... but now that I'm back, I hear it so much.  And not just from coworkers either, from family and friends.  It's really quite depressing to realize how unhappy so many people are.

I'm working on "letting it go".  It's my new mantra - LET IT GO.  I try really hard not to burst out in the popular song when I say it to myself, it's such a great and catchy tune LOL.  Even my boys love it.




Okay, to be honest, I've been interrupted about 4 times now by my 8 year old who is in bed & supposed to be sleeping.  I'm getting rather irritated, but am letting it go.  He has asked to be tucked in twice, and this last time he asked when we had plans to go to Canada's Wonderland.  I'm like, really child, there is still snow outside and it's not even open.  I reminded myself how lucky I am that he is my child, gave him a kiss and said goodnight, for the final time this evening.  Fingers crossed he'll go to sleep.  He is way up past his bedtime, which doesn't help, and that is mainly my fault.  I got a late call at the end of my shift tonight, which put me into overtime.  Thankfully it wasn't a long call, so I only got home about 30 minutes later than normal.  Still I wanted to spend time with them, and the boys were outside playing when I got home.  Who can turn down fresh air?!  We got to read stories, they told me their happy sads for the days and I had the biggest smile when I asked about their buckets.  My oldest said his was overflowing.  LOVE THAT.



My oldest has had the most trouble with my recent separation from his father.  It has almost been a year and a half since he moved out.  Truthfully though, he was having trouble when his father lived here too.  There was a lot of hate, a lot of anger, a lot of name calling.  The worst was when his father said to me "The sooner you're dead the better."  Nice, eh?  Right in front of the kids.  The day I knew that I had to be a single parent was after this, when my then 3 yr old son said, Mommy, we only need to have three people in our family.  It broke my heart, but I knew what I had to do.

You see, from day one I thought I should leave. FROM DAY ONE.  Why didn't I?  Well, for one, someone was paying attention to me. Someone showed me I was important.  And I liked that.   I thought things would get better, I thought I could "fix" him.  Wrong.  Very wrong.  So what did we do?  Well, we had a baby of course.  Then we got married, because, well if the baby didn't make things better, for sure a wedding would.  Nope.  Then I decided that I wanted to have two children, but I didn't want to have them have different fathers.  I didn't want a huge age gap in between them, and who knows had I left then, if I'd ever found someone else who wanted a child with me?  So I stayed, and had my second son.  I thought perhaps things would change then, but still they didn't.  He had a lot of issues, as I'm sure I did too.  But he was mean.  He called me names, especially the "c" word.  It rhymes with punt.  He was angry all the time and it didn't matter who was around either.  He didn't care.  I thought that moving to a bigger home would solve our problems, but alas they didn't.  I finally realized my worth and my kids worth and filed for divorce.  That didn't go over very well and it's been just about 2 years from the date of filing and we still aren't settled yet.  I just want to get on with my life, without being attached to someone so full of hate and anger.  Unfortunately we are waiting on him and his paperwork.

In the end though I am much happier.  Yes it's hard and yes there are times I question my sanity.  I cry sometimes, saddened that I am yet another statistic.  One I swore I'd never be.  My kids are learning their new roles and our new family.  I am so fortunate to have such a supportive mother.  She has been our rock.  I honestly don't know what I'd do without her.  She is our travel companion, our dinner companion and our go to girl.  She is amazing.  Also a single mother, so I guess the apple doesn't fall from the tree.  I learned my strength from her.  And I am so thankful.



**pictures are not my own, they are copied from a google image search.

Food Allergies?! Puhlease....

Food allergies?  Whatever.

This was me, 9 years ago before our lives changed.  You see, I was one of those people who felt that food allergies were over-rated.  Allergic to nuts, don't eat em!  My cousin was dating a fellow who had food allergies and I remember exchanging words with my mother prior to Christmas dinner... we always put bowls of nuts out, it's not like he has to eat them.  He declined our invitation and looking back knowing what I know now, he was right to do so.  We were assholes.



Call it a lesson, call it a smack in my face, call it Karma... call it what you will...  In 2008, we welcomed a beautiful baby boy.  A whopping 9 lbs 11 oz at that!  All through my pregnancy I ate peanut butter, PB on toast, on bagels and my favourite - Reese's peanut butter cups!  During the first year of my son's life, I ate nuts and peanut butter right next to him.  For three months I breastfed.  He had terrible eczema, cried A LOT and always had redness on his little face.   When he turned a year old, I introduced him to peanut butter.  I always read it was best to wait until they were one.  First exposure was a small amount of Kraft natural peanut butter.  It was uneventful.  About a week or so later, I decided to try again with the second exposure.  This time, we had no natural PB around so I used the Kraft smooth PB.  Still just as delicious!  I put a little bit on my finger and put it in his mouth.  I remember him sticking his fingers in his mouth as he tasted this new food.  Moments later he was rubbing his eyes, tired.  So, naturally I put him to bed and he fell asleep.  I went downstairs to check facebook (it was still pretty new to me and being a new mother, I was eager to see what was happening in the outside world).  About an hour later I had a sudden fear.  Oh My God.  What if he had an allergic reaction while he was sleeping, what if he was dead upstairs in  his crib?!  I raced upstairs as fast as I could, sick to my stomach that I could be so foolish and braindead.  I am a paramedic after all and should know these things.  Opening his door, I sighed with relief.  There my beautiful baby was, standing in his crib.  I looked him over and discovered he had swelling around his eye - the same eye he'd been rubbing when he was eating the PB.  He was coughing a bit too, sounded full of phlegm.  Naturally you'd think as a paramedic, my house would be stocked full of supplies... it sort of it, with first aid stuff.  Medications, not so much.  No benedryl, no epinephrine.  I called my then husband in a panic, crying, fearing the worst.   (It has come more to my awareness that I will ALWAYS fear the worst in every situation).  I didn't know what to do.  Do I take him to ER, do I call an ambulance?  Do I do nothing?!  


I decided to drive him into emerg, after all, I work on an ambulance and felt that the only time I'll call my coworkers is if I'm dying - this wasn't an emergency after all and that's what ambulances are for (contrary to popular belief, we are NOT a taxi service!).  They put us in the "yellow" zone, which I knew was for stable patients that weren't too bad.  Good sign.  We saw a doctor that I know well, and he assured me everything was alright.  They gave him benedryl and watched him for a while.  They suggested that his eye had probably been irritated from the PB being rubbed into it.  I asked for a prescription for an epi pen since we had an upcoming trip to Cuba in a few weeks.  Last thing I needed was something to happen while in another country.   We left with that and an appointment for allergy testing.


Allergy testing showed he was in fact allergic to peanuts.  Not just a little bit, but a LOT.  His levels were 75.  I asked if that was high, and the doctor said 30 is high.  Great.  Karma just bit me in the ass.  Cuba was wonderful, we kept him on his bottle and only fed him fruits and veggies there.   I decided I wanted to have the peanut component testing done as well - it's blood work which breaks down and shows the different levels in the peanut that one could be allergic to.  My son, was off the charts high for each Ara h associated with anaphylaxis.

(Reactivity to Ara h 1, 2, or 3 is associated with a high risk for systemic reaction, including anaphylaxis. Reactivity to Ara h 9 is associated with a variable risk for systemic reaction, including anaphylaxis. Patients who exhibit reactivity to Ara h 1, 2, 3, and/or 9 should be counseled to avoid peanuts, foods that contain peanut products, and foods that have been processed in plants that also process peanuts.) copied from http://www.questdiagnostics.com/testcenter/testguide.action?dc=TS_Peanut_Component_Panel

My son is now 8 years old and thankfully has never had an anaphylactic reaction. We have educated him and told him how to keep himself safe.  We hope he has listened.  We have struggled with some family members who just didn't get it and have been blessed with those who go above and beyond.  My mother has removed all nuts and peanut butter from her house.  I am so fortunate for her.  We have traveled a lot with my son, to show him he doesn't have to live in a bubble.  Disney is by far our safest place to go on holiday.  Their attention to those with food allergies is amazing.  Now though, my son is getting older and he has asked if we can go to the ocean.  Cuba, Mexico or the DR like he's heard his friends say.  The only problem is that I can't find a resort that I feel comfortable enough with to keep him safe.  We don't have baby formula to feed him this time.  My fingers are crossed that something (affordable) will come along and I will be able to see the smile on his face when I tell him the news.  I hate hearing him say "Mom, wouldn't it be nice if I wasn't allergic to peanuts?".  Poor kid.

Last year, he was really struggling with feeling different.  I found an amazing summer camp that promised they were a nut safe environment and that he would be free to eat everything served there.  With a deep breath, a lot of fear and heartache, I sent him away for 2 weeks.  He came back so happy, and so grown up.  We had won.

Looking forward, I hope to have him retested again and maybe look into options for OIT.  I've seen great success from my group members on a food allergy facebook page.  Their once allergic children can now eat nuts safely.  I can't even begin to imagine how life changing that would be for my son.
I'm hoping with each year that passes, with all the research being done, that something will come up.  Until then, we always have him carry 2 epi pens on his person at all time, I always have one in my purse as well.  We live life, to the fullest.


*** pictures are NOT my own.  They are copied from a google image search.

Easter Weekend... not for me!

The joy of a shift worker... holidays, weekends, family time are often non-existent.   This weekend for instance, I'm working nights Friday, Saturday and Sunday.  Most of my family will be back to work Monday, so we are celebrating the holiday the following weekend.  My kids are also away at their dads for the weekend, so that puts a damper on things as well.

I found joy today in hiding some eggs around the house for the return of my kids.  I'm eager to hear their squeals of delight as they find hidden treats from the Easter Bunny.  The weather is starting to warm up & we are slowing getting rid of all the ice from the recent storm.

Things are looking up.

So as I'm getting ready for night #2 of this holiday weekend, I ask you this - cherish your family time, hold those you love close and let them know what they mean to you.  Think of shift workers and their families who sacrifice their family time to help yours in your time of need.

Hoppy Easter!! 

Success

My first shift back after being off for a month of mental health rest was successful.  We only had to attend to one call, and oddly enough it was a mental health call.  My new temporary partner and I chatted quite a bit and found we had a lot in common.  It was a good day.

Now, since starting back at work, work nightmares have returned.  Not of calls that I have done, but just gory or scary events happen during my dream.  Last night during some downtime I had a dream that someone was intentionally run over and crushed by a dump truck, and the man driving the dump truck was pure evil.  I remember sobbing uncontrollably in my dream.  However, I also went camping during that dream, so who knows where my head is at.

One thing for certain is that the base pager still startles the hell out of my heart.  I swear it puts me into a tachycardia whenever it goes off, it's so loud.  Jolts you up fro where you're sitting.

I'm about to pick up the kids from the school bus and then tonight we are off to gymnastics.  I'm so glad I decided to enroll them as they look forward to it each week.  My oldest wants to be a ninja warrior, so this is great training!  We are supposed to get a wicked winter and ice storm tonight & tomorrow, so I'm expecting there to be a snow day and the kids will be home with me.  Then I work all Easter weekend.  I don't mind though, overtime shifts and so I get to bank my overtime to take days off later.

My family and I will celebrate Easter the following week and combine it with a little birthday celebration for moi!  It'll be nice for the kids to have Easter with their dad, but this will be his first time with them so I sure hope he plans for the Easter bunny's arrival.  otherwise, there will be some disappointed little boys.

Until next time!

Nervous Jitters Perhaps?

Well tonight I go back to work after a month of mental health "rest".  I will be working a night shift.  Last night I had some awful dreams.  Work related of course.  Not about calls I have done, but does one of those dreams where I'm at work and it goes on through the night like I would on my shift.  Started off with a call right off the hop at shift change as I was coming through the door and I was not ready.  Didn't have my bags with me, etc.  I hate those calls.  Always feel too rushed.  Then it went onto another call with a mother who looked like a vampire and a baby with blood all over it.  The baby was fine thankfully, but why my mind conjured up that image?  Maybe it had something to do with the abduction last night involving a baby.... who was found unharmed.  The mind works in mysterious ways.  In my dream I also told two people riding scooters that they needed their lights turned on because we couldn't see them.  One of them told me off, the other said thanks for caring.

Needless to say I woke up this morning to get the kids ready for school, and I felt like I hadn't slept a wink.  Crawling back into bed after the kids were gone, I laid down for some more rest.  Only it seemed like I was startled awake every 10 minutes or so.  My heart was racing.  My phone rang, that startled me awake, someone texted, that too got my heart going.  I gave up after a few hours.  I still feel jittery.

I don't feel nervous to go back to work.  Excited perhaps?  Wondering how I'll be received, what I'll say to coworkers who don't know the story...  wondering how the calls will go.  It's sort of like Christmas Eve I guess.  The anticipation of it all.

Soon I'll be in uniform, back at work and the jitters will be mostly gone.  I'm banking on sleeping great tomorrow morning!

The World Going to Crap

Tonight while watching the Wonderful World of Disney with my boys, an AMBER alert took over the screen.  It was regarding a baby inside a vehicle which was stolen.  Apparently the father ran into a flea market for a minute and left the baby (3 months I believe) alone.  The vehicle was stolen.  It feels like a movie when the thief turns their head to notice a baby in the vehicle.  My children wanted to know what the amber alert meant, so I educated them.  It's sad really, that this even happens.  Children being abducted.  A parents worst nightmare.  Thankfully the vehicle and baby were found and baby was unharmed.  Thank you to the thief for having enough of a heart to leave that child safe.
What erks me about all this is these people who think they can take whatever they want, whenever they want it.  Thieves, bad guys, low life.  Where did something go wrong?  What makes people think it's OK for them to take something that doesn't belong to them?  What makes them think it's OK to hurt others, to take their hard earned possessions.  It's so frustrating.  I work hard for what I have and for someone to come along and take that away, well, it would suck.  Yes possessions are replaceable. I get that.  But these people who just feel entitled.  Ugh.

It is then as a parent that I really worry.  I worry about my boys and hope that I am raising them properly to lead a good and honest life. These thieves, they have parents I assume and I can only imagine what their parents might be thinking.  I guess sometimes you just do the best you can and the rest is out of your control.

Onto brighter things.  It's SPRING!  We even have some tulips starting to push through the ground.  It's so lovely to see the grass turning green and hear the birds singing again.  This winter wasn't a typical winter for us, that's for sure, so it hasn't been too bad.  I wish we had've been able to ski a bit more - I don't even think we built one snowman!  Crazy.  Although, looking at the upcoming weather for this week, it looks like we could be getting one last (hopefully) dumping of snow.  Up to 15 cm.  Thanks to whomever put away all their winter gear.  My oldest asked me the other day when I'd put the snow pants away.  I said May! lol, don't want to jinx anything.

We had a great March break too.  The beginning of the week we went to the Science Centre and stayed for 2 nights at a hotel with a pool and slide.  My oldest got his brave pants on and took to the slide for the first time.  He discovered that he loved it!  I'm so glad he tried it!  My youngest discovered that he can in fact swim!  I've been telling him that for so long, but he hasn't wanted to try.  This hotel had a smaller pool that was shallow, so I think that gave him the courage to ditch the life jacket and glide through the water.  Fast forward to today's public swim and my youngest jumped into the deep end and swam all by himself.  Such a proud mom I am of these two boys.

The rest of the week was spent around the house, playing soccer and riding bikes.  Another first for my youngest.  He learned how to ride a two wheeler back in February during an unseasonably warm day.  He was afraid to try again, until this weekend when I found him on his bike, learning again on his own.  By the time yesterday rolled around, they were doing circles around me!  Winter is great, but  the warmer temperatures are so welcomed here!

And now the boys are tucked into bed, the laundry's been done and the dishwasher is humming.  Tomorrow will be back to the grind of school and work.  The kids will be sent off to grandmas house while I work the night shift and hopefully avoid the flu that is causing an outbreak in our town.

It still surprises me that people actually read what I've written here, so thanks to those who do!  I appreciate it.  I love that it's a little therapeutic release for me that I have found.  Just like a diary, only the lock is left open.

Till next time.

Visions of Sugarplums Sure Don't Dance in MY Head!

Over the years I've heard babies take their first breath, people take their last breath, children cry in horror as their parent has died, parents cry in horror that their child has died.  These memories bounce around in my head.  Some have more of a hold on me than others - like my first "VSA" (vital signs absent) call as a paramedic student.  We were called to a home of a young male, when we arrived, his SIX year old son was standing on the porch screaming, "my daddy's dead, my daddy's dead!" over and over.  We rushed into the home, down into the basement and found the wife trying to perform CPR on her husband.   I don't remember a lot about that call, the details, whether or not we transported, or pronounced him at the scene, but I do remember the sound of that child's voice.   That will stay with me forever.  It's been 18 years since that call... give or take some months/days.  It's amazing how something from so long ago can still seem so fresh.

People ask, how do you deal with all the stuff you see?  Well, you just DO.  My answer usually is this... for the people who die, their death means nothing to me.  I didn't know them alive, so their death doesn't change my life whatsoever.  It has gotten me through until now.  I have an 8 year old who is deathly allergic to peanuts and almonds.  We avoid all treenuts and anything that may contain a cross contamination of his allergen.  A few years back, we had a teenager who died of severe asthma and had a severe allergy to dairy.  We worked so hard, we got to him fast but it wasn't quick enough.  There was nothing we could do.  We transported him to the ER where the doctors and nurses, the RTs and anyone else could help the best they could.  In the end, he died.  His mother arrived during all of this and I looked at her, standing at the foot of her son's bed, watching the medical team try to save her son.  Images of my own son came to the forefront of my mind.  I didn't know this person, I didn't know this kid.  BUT, I am a mother.  I have a child who has asthma AND a severe food allergy.  I personalized the call.  I walked into the bathroom and broke down.  I cried for her, for him and for my son.  I thought, if this happens to my child, I'll be broken.  The worst thing ever.


From then on, if we got dispatched to a call where there was anaphylaxis, sometimes unconsciousness, I immediately began to think the worst.  The tears would well up in my eyes.  My partner would say, pull yourself together, we aren't even there yet!  I'd find myself doing a pep talk, taking deep breaths, anything to keep those tears from flowing over.  They called us to help in their time of need.  They sure didn't need a paramedic coming who was falling apart.

One of my more recent calls was for one of our "regulars".  I'd dealt with this particular patient over the past 4 years or so.  This last time, this patient died.  In. Our. Truck.  We pulled over on the side of a busy road and performed CPR, we tried all the drugs used in the ER, nothing worked.  So then what happened?  Well, to the morgue of course.  The MORGUE.  OMG, what an awful place.  And it was FULL.  We were taking up the last space.   A coworker joked "hospital was busy this weekend".  I started to think.  Think about all those body bags.  What and who was inside them.  Mothers, daughters, sisters, aunts, uncles, brothers, fathers, grandmas, grandpas, friends.  They were people.  Zipped up in a body bag.  With tags on their toes.  I started to think of their family and friends who were grieving the loss of their loved one.  I started to think of our patient who lay on our stretcher while we got the body bag ready.  Their body bag.  We couldn't find the toe tags.  We have to move this patient off our stretcher, onto this cold metal "bed", into a plastic body bag and ZIP IT UP.  I started to fall apart.  My supervisor looked at me and asked if I was alright.  I shook my head no and left.  I left him and my partner behind in that place full of death, because I couldn't do my job.
He came out a few minutes later to talk to me and I just started bawling.  How is this right, that we dehumanize someone so much by zipping them up in a plastic bag and put them to "rest" in a fridge?!  I let it out for a bit, talked to him, pulled myself together and got ready for the next call.


Fast forward a month and que the hoarder house.  This house smelled so bad, I could smell it from outside on the front lawn.  I thought, for sure, someone was dead inside.  Opening the door, I saw what looked like a scene from the tv show Hoarders.  Only this was real life.  After putting on a mask and spreading vicks vapo rub all over my nostrils, I took a step in.  AND FROZE.  The room just past the entrance way was piled about 5 ft high with junk, trash, dead stuff, you name it.  Now, if there's one thing to know about me, it's that I'm TERRIFIED of frogs, snakes, rats, mice, the list goes on.  There was no doubt in my mind that in this house lived many rates and probably hundreds of mice.  I could not move one step further.  I could hear our patient calling for help, so, I gave myself a little pep talk and looked to the ceiling... and started walking.  It was the worst house I have ever been in.  And I've been in a lot over my 17 year career.  If you can imagine it, it was there.  We called in help to extricate this patient, and after approx 30 minutes or so of me being in that house, I was saying I needed out. I needed a breather, a decompression of sorts.  My requests went unheard thanks to my thick mask and I found myself "trapped" behind the patient and the team who was pulling him out.  My only option was to follow as they pulled him up and over the mounds of junk in their way.  So, now you may be thinking, or not, where my mind was at this point.  Well, my mind was racing, I was panicking and thinking.... these mice and rats when they get run over, will scurry towards the path of least resistance, right towards ME.  I had to keep focused, breathing, looking up, trying NOT to think of the critters.  UNTIL I FELT ONE MOVE UNDER MY FOOT!!!  At this point I could see the outside, the front door, my partner, freedom.  Yet, it was beyond my reach.  I froze, terrified that this critter that just moved under my foot would start to climb up me, would call all it's friends and they would start attacking... yes I've seen one too many scary movies.  I could've easily walked around our patient to the outside, but then I would've had to step into that awful living room piled high.  All I could think of was no, that's where the critter went.  I finally said with tears in my eyes, I need out NOW.  Just pull him out!  they did thankfully and with that, I took a FFs hand and he helped me out.  I knew my partner was with others who could help load the patient on to the stretcher, and I booked it for our ambulance.  Coming up the side of the truck, I began sobbing, pulling my mask off, breathing deeply in the fresh air.  That same supervisor was there again and was taken aback, startled that I was upset.  He'd had no idea I was breaking.  I just needed a minute to compose myself.  I was safe now, I was outside.  I put a new mask on and climbed in the back of the truck and continued my day, thankful I was out of there.  I have vowed to myself that I will NEVER enter a home such as that again.  Someone can bring that patient out to me.  For days after, I would feel movement under my foot, like I'd felt in that house... only nothing was there.  It has finally stopped happening.

Enter in a few more terrible calls, calls gone bad, routine calls, and calls where I just wasn't sure.  It seemed as though I was finding tears coming too easily.  I was asking my supervisor a question and the tears began.  I started to unravel, only I didn't know it.  He did though, thankfully.  He took me off duty  and let my coworkers tend calls while I let it all out.  He knew about my personal stress, he's known me my whole paramedic career, and he's been with me on some very challenging calls.  He gets it.  Thankfully he saw what was happening and put things into motion.  He, along with a coworker from our peer support group, and another supervisor took me aside and sat me down.  As soon as I saw them I started sobbing again.  They cared about my mental health.  They cared enough to say, enough - you need a time out.  So that's what I did.  I called my EAP that night, and had an appointment booked for a few days (weekends...) and started my one month of "rest".  I worried for a bit what people would think, what they'd say.  I was embarrassed to even tell my family.  I still haven't told my own sister.  I don't talk about it much with them because I don't want to burden them.  I don't want to seem weak or small.  I'm a strong, independent and smart person.  I can't be the one to break when I"m the one who's always strong.  But I did break.  I talked to my doctor, I talked to my counselor and I talked to my coworkers.  I rested.  And after four weeks away, I think I"m ready to go back.  That's the plan anyhow.

So how does one go on?  How do you go back to work, knowing what you're bound to see again, knowing that there will be more death, more heartache and more blood?  How do you know you're going to be ok, that you'll be able to handle it?  Well, you don't.  You just do.   And you talk to your coworkers, your counselor, your doctor.  You take advantage of your EAP and your peer support group.  Because that's what they're there for.

Monday night, I'll be thrown right back into things, like nothing has changed. But it has.  I'm aware of the mental health dangers.  The dangers of holding it in, of personalizing it and not talking about it.  Of trying to be strong when it's ok to not be.  I know that my coworkers care for me and will be there for me.  I know I can do it, because I want to.


**pictures copied from google search.  They are not my own and I do not take credit for them.

Life as a Paramedic

So I'm not sure how much I'm allowed to write about my life as a paramedic, but sparing identifying details, I think I'm safe to write something.  More of a theraputic release for myself.  I'm just going to type, see what comes out and not really think much about it.  So here goes.

I started in the summer of 1999, at the young age of 21.  Back then I thought I knew it all.  Boy was I wrong.  In my first few months, I attended two calls where there was attempted murder.  I saw more blood than one should see.   On both calls, I ended up attending to the attacker.  The person who did the alleged crime.  Funny thing was, it didn't even cross my mind at the time.  You see, both these people were injured themselves,  I had a job to do.  So I went into paramedic mode and helped.
I had to go to court for one of those calls.  I didn't enjoy that at all.  Something about being up on a stand, in front of a lot of important and powerful people, you feel very small.  Very small.  I remember my voice went dry and I felt like I couldn't talk.

Another time I was finishing up a call at the ER and a child was rushed in.  A little bit later, the parent was standing outside of the room I was in and was making that awful phone call that their child had died.  I could hear the screams coming from the phone, from the person on the other end.  I can still hear them perfectly to this day.  It struck a chord with me then, and does so even more now that I am a parent.  I've had to be witness to many children's parents break down in sorrow with the news that their child has died.  It's such an awful feeling and no parent should outlive their child.  But sadly, it happens.  A lot.

Drunks, druggies and plain old assholes.  We do these calls frequently.  The overdoses, the passed out drunks, the people who turn into jerks or are just assholes to the core.  They curse at you, they swing at your, they try to kick you... they vomit on or near you ( you learn quickly how to get out of the way fast).  Some are the most ungrateful people I have ever encountered.  In my "old age" I don't tend to have a filter anymore, so these people usually get my "mom tone" voice.  Sometimes I just want to say grow the "f*#k" up.  

We are fortunate to work with some pretty great police officers.  Over the years we have built up friendships with a lot of them, so we know when we are going to certain calls they'll be alongside with us.  And they have our backs.  One time an officer grabbed hold of me and stopped me from falling off the side of a two story balcony.  We were dealing with a mental health patient who was fighting us, I tripped over another officers foot and away I went, until I felt the arms of my friend, the officer, grab hold of me.  I couldn't thank her enough.  That fall would've HURT.

Growing up in a small town and even smaller "hamlet", I've known these people for at least 20 years.  From the fire department to the police department, I've gone to school with many of them.  It is comforting to know you're working with people who call you by name, not because they've heard you say it, but because they know you.  They aren't strangers.  They're there to help.  And they do.

Just about completed my 17th year of working as a paramedic, I've built up a lot of memories.  Some good, some bad, some terrible.   With the growing awareness of mental health and the importance of being self aware, it's imperative you speak to someone if you are having difficulties.  I'm lucky enough to have coworkers to turn to - to talk about those calls that only they can understand.  You can talk to family, but why burden them with images of terrible things?  Coworkers understand, for they too have seen terrible things.

It will always be a struggle, it will always be a fight.  It will cause more stress than most, it will harden you, it can make you turn into someone else, just to survive.  However, it is a very rewarding career.  It's amazing when you actually make a difference.  To be that person who just saved a life.


I don't think I'd trade it for anything.

48 HRS and Counting

Being a single parent for a few years now, I've started to dread the weekends my kids go to their dad's house.  I miss them.  I miss their laughter, their hugs and smiles.  I even miss their fighting.  The house is too quiet.  Last night as I sat watching TV (as I rarely do), I found myself trying to be quiet to not wake the boys.  Laughed at myself, because I was alone.  Turning the TV off, I sat in silence.  Listening to the sounds of the country.  Quiet.  Then I heard a frightening sound.  Wails, barks, howls, yipping.  Sounded like a LOT of coyotes out back.  Sounded like a horror movie.  Then my mind began to play tricks on me.  I got scared.  Whenever I passed by a window, I imagined something standing on the other side of it looking in.  Creepy of course.  Scary movie type, of course.  Something like this...




I don't normally get frightened at home and I think it's because when the boys are here, I'm their protector.  It's my job.  However, when they aren't here, I'm all alone and I feel vulnerable I suppose.  No one to protect and no one to protect me.  With the fear in my head, I went to my room and shut the door.  There was safety in there, under those covers.  It's funny how things don't change from when you're a kid.  Hiding under the covers.



So with that, I went to sleep, feeling protected by my almighty duvet.  It's no wonder I had a few nightmares.  Finally morning came, and the sun was shining and the birds were singing.  My fear was gone and everything was right again.

And tonight I get to do it all again.

I can not wait for my babies to come home on Sunday.  To hear them scream MOMMY!!!  To feel their hugs and their love.  To listen to their stories of how much fun (hopefully) they had.   I will get to tuck them in, listen to their "happy sads" of the day and kiss them goodnight.  If I'm lucky enough, they'll let me snuggle in beside them for a short time.

The life of a single parent is not easy.  It's not something I wanted, or expected, but something I had to choose.  Learning to live this way definitely has its challenges, but we are surviving and will continue to do so.

Peace out.

And we're back.

After a bit of a hiatus I'm attempting this again.  Over the past year we have done a lot of things.  C had a successful 2 weeks away at camp & I survived.  It was harder than I thought having him away, mainly missing him at night.  We went on our annual summer trip with Grandma to Blue Mountain.  What a fabulous place.  C loved the low ropes course and even ventured up onto the higher level.  Next year we'll get A onto them.  We did the mountain coaster, mini putt, hiked up the ski hill and swam to our hearts content.

Summer ended and the boys headed off for another year at school.  C is in a 2/3 split class which hopefully will challenge his mind.  He is such a smart kid. I bought a pair of "bouncy bands" for his desk to help with his need to move constantly and they are a huge success.  Every desk should have one!  A is in SK this year, he's growing up so fast.  He has many friends and the girls are lined up to marry him!

Christmas came & went - I picked up an overtime shift on Christmas eve because the boys were to be with their dad.  Instead they ended up staying here, so I got to see them Christmas morning after all.  I made my first ever turkey dinner, complete with stuffing and a home made cheese cake.  I did very well if I do say so myself.  All thanks to pinterest!

This winter has been a weird one.  First we have snow, then it melts, then it's freezing, then warm again.  Needless to say we haven't had much skiing opportunities.  The kids did get out for a day of skiing on a PA day. A learned how to ski on his own and he even rode the chair lift!  C continued to excel on the slopes.  Me on the other hand realized how long it's been since I used my leg muscles!! 

Fast forward to today... March 9th.   I've had C home now for 2 days with a fever and cough.  Fingers are crossed that he doesn't end up with strep throat.  Lots of illness is going around the school.  March break starts for us tomorrow at noon.  Can't wait for the break!

That's all for today.  Thanks for stopping by.