week deux

I'm on week two of my vacay. It is so hard not being on shift today. I know I'm an addict because soon as I am away from the firehall I start to get the jitters and start jonesing for the smell of cinders and ashes and the wail of the sirens. I miss my brotherhood. And I'll be darned if they go and have a three alarm without me today!

ain't just fires no more

If it's one thing I've learned as an emergency services worker is that no two calls are ever alike. They may be similar in nature, but the situation and the nuances are far from identical. With fire, variances can depend on the building structure, the adjacent exposures, the fire load, the source of ignition, or the way the wind is blowing. Depending on the conditions, what is the beginning of a fire can either turn into a massive explosion, or simply self-extinguish. This unpredictability is what makes me passionate about my work and it keeps me on my toes. To me, every shift is like Christmas with the excited anticipation of what the day might bring.

If it's another thing I've learned as an emergency services worker is that calls can range from the traditional to the uhm...... not-so-traditional. Typically people call 911 because of fire, car accidents, major medical incidents, and the like. But we also get 911 calls that no matter how much training we've had, leave us gobsmacked. More than once we've been caught by surprise. Last night we responded to a 911 emergency medical call. Before we even entered the unit, we could hear a man screaming in pain, so we braced for the worst because judging by the agonizing groans, we figured he was pinned under something or had sliced a finger off.

Turns out the fellow called 911 because he was having difficulty passing a poop. Because fire trucks aren't readily stocked with prune juice and bran muffins, we did what we could: we took his pulse and blood pressure and made him as comfortable as possible whilst crammed together in the bathroom. And then we waited. And waited... for this fella's jackpot while hoping that we weren't missing out on a fire somewhere. I know my crew shouted a collective silent Hallelujah when the ambulance finally arrived and took over the call because none of us wanted to stick around to see if the story had a happy ending. Some things are just better left not knowing.

friday the 13th

Hey, just realized it's Friday the 13th. Kinda glad I'm off shift now to give my body and mind a chance to recoup but still secretly wishing I was working because things just happen on this date. I'd throw in a full moon as well and take on the werewolves. Goes to show you that we all have our addictions and a busy firehouse with crazy calls is mine.

more bad news

Last night we had what I think is one of the most horrible of calls: a hanging. When you get that call at 4 am your brain is having a tough time processing and you end up with a gruesome image of the scene as you brace yourself for what you're actually about to experience. I rode in the back of the truck prepared to cut the rope down with the utility knife I always carry in my bunker pants. Thankfully, police had already done that before we arrived so we got to work with the paramedics doing compressions. We got a pulse back after the first round of drugs and patient was whisked to hospital. Not sure if he made it. Not sure if I want to find out. Just hoping my next call is a happy call but frankly, what are the chances of that? People don't call 911 because they're having a great day. Maybe one day I'll get a call to deliver a baby. It would sure be nice to see a life enter this world instead of seeing someone exit it.

time to go

I see this phenomenon happen all to often when it comes to firefighters who are close to retirement: they seem scared and tentative when they should be taking the bull (or the red devil!) by the horns. They'll find ways to delay getting on and off the truck, park as far away as possible from the scene, or disappear at the scene altogether. They seem to do anything they can to avoid getting the job done... which annoys me to no end. I assume all of us become firefighters because we love to help the community, the challenges, and the hard grunt work but as the twilight years approach I see one too many Captains tell the driver to take their sweet time getting there. Besides the obvious legal implications and the simple fact that lost seconds can mean lost lives, I finally figured out why many of the-soon-to-be-retired within the fire department (and perhaps other emergency service divisions) are lollygaggers: they're scarred by too many memories of bad calls. They want to retire in one piece without any mental or physical injury, they're sick of seeing death and tragedy, and they are hanging back to bide the next few months until their last shift. I can understand their point of view but I think when you're no longer in the game, it's time to go because as a crew member, it is so important to have great leadership. I don't want them to hang on just to keep building up their pension. Money is not the reason to get this job nor stay on the job. I do not want to ever sense that my Captain is scared shitless because that is unnerving at a call... especially when the scene is blowing up all around you... I need to know that my Captain knows exactly what to do and take charge. I need to know that he is in control. That he will keep us safe. That he is not going to save himself at the expense of his entire crew. It is the most horrible feeling when the crew feels like we're on its own to make the decisions... it feels like you're being fed to the wolves. At this point I'm not sure who is looking forward to these Captains' retirements: us or them. Till then... let's just get through all the calls in one piece.

Be safe.

roller coaster ride of emotions

I'm in a bad way today. Maybe because my back is killing me from being stupid and lifting some dumbass weights the wrong way. Maybe because as always, I never get enough sleep and can't even put a dent on my spring cleaning even though the summer is almost over. Maybe because I saw one maggot too many on a rotting carcass as I was finishing up shift this morning. Maybe because I am still haunted by a call at our station..... the guys on my previous shift responded to a drowning. It was a hot afternoon church bbq/pool party when a guest noticed a boy at the bottom of the pool. Police/fire/paramedics arrived and worked on this little guy as his mother was trying to drag him away to the safety of her arms, as if holding him could make everything better. Paramedics got a pulse back and he was rushed to hospital then was airlifted to critical care. I am not even sure how to write this because the emotions are so raw. The attending paramedic came by later to our station to give an update and said that the child no longer has brain activity and his organ function is gone. And mom cannot say goodbye and shut off life support. So there he lies quietly in his hospital bed and the only noise is the whoosh of the ventilaor machines and the beep, beep, beeping. He is alive, but at the same time not. Forgive me for being so graphic. But some calls I can process. This one I am not so sure. My heart hurts so much for this mother that I don't even know.

I want to cry. But I can't. So I write. Her little boy is the same age as my son.... four. My Jacob, who in moments will be bursting through the door like a sunshine tornado. I finally understand what my own mother means when she says that it's good for children to be loud and jump around because that's what they are supposed to do.

Extra hugs and kisses and 'I love you's' tonight... that is for sure.

But my day hasn't been completely terrible. A crewmate that I worked with just received a new heart! This firefighter caught some weird virus that damaged his heart to the point it was like having an 80 year old heart stuck in his 40 year old body. It's quite possible he caught this virus on the job but it's hard to tell. In any event, he's been on disability for a few years waiting for a heart donor. And it came! And the surgery was successful! And even though he will probably never be a front-line firefighter again, he will certainly be back working for the fire department soon and be able to chase after his young daughter and enjoy many, many years with his beautiful wife.

So in some strange way, the greatest highs are able to cancel out the greatest lows. Thank goodness for that because I'd otherwise be out of my mind.

slow day

When things are slow at the fire hall we tend to get a bit antsy... and I hate to admit it, we start craving a good call. Last shift was a snore... we couldn't stop pacing so to kill time, one of the guys brought out his smoker from the back of his truck and we smoked 8 racks of spareribs... one rack per firefighter. Heck, if you can't get called to smoke, might as well create some. :) Paleo pals, I ate the entire rack by myself. :)


But alas, after we digested, we were still bored so what did we do to pass the time? This:
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And because I just couldn't leave well enough alone and simply had to get in on the action:
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TA DA!
The Chief would not be amused.

ice cream remedy

I have yet to figure out if my relationship with my crew is more akin to roommates or old married couples minus the sex. Just by constantly working and being together, we get to know each other quite well, in a bickery, intimate way. I don't know if it's the humidity but we've all been a bit grumpy with one another. Every call we had seemed to be the farthest from where we happened to be and traffic for some reason had no clue that when a fire engine is coming down the street lights and sirens you must PULL OVER AND STOP. PLEASE!!! That and the fact that we ran 5 calls after 11 pm didn't help.... especially since they were to the same place and all false alarms. I dragged my poor arse home trying not to fall asleep at the wheel.... and I slept my day off away..... from 9 am to 2:30 pm!

We all have our quirks and our moods and our idiosyncracies. Some days what one might find utterly charming, the next day it might be completely annoying. I can be abnormally sensitive to my crewmates moods. The guys know this and if I can't remedy the situation with a smile or a hug, then after the next call, while the truck is out, I'll make a stop for a huge tub of cherries jubilee ice cream. That and a big pot of coffee and us enjoying a break and some conversation gets us back to our cheerful selves in no time.

We had a big rain last night so things have cooled off, and hopefully some of the tempers..... We're back on shift tomorrow. Maybe I'll bring in a tub or two of ice cream for extra insurance. xo

so fun I can hardly sleep!

Holy smoke. Took a couple of days to come down off the high. Last shift was insane. We had not one but two fires. :) The first fire was a pot on the stove so one crewmate might win firefigter of the year for grabbing the pot and running outdoors with it. ;) After ventilating, and placing a smoke alarm in their home (folks..... PLEASE make sure you have working smoke alarms and CO detectors), the call was done. In the evening we had a 2 alarm fire and I felt like I was in a movie. I was driving the ladder truck and had the pedal to the floor. On the radio I could hear that there was one severely burned person at the front of the house and someone else in distress from a knife wound. Then I heard a firefighter yell 'everybody out!'. I thought maybe the floors had collapsed. Turns out it was a home invasion. Upon arrival, Command asked us to suit up and stand on deck to make entry. When I jumped out of the truck I saw the SWAT team running down the street a la Flashpoint. We were at a working crime scene and there were coppers everywhere. We were at the call for a few hours and when it was time to go we were jammed in because of all the vehicles and bystanders. It was impossible to turn a 40 foot ladder truck around so I had to back up the beast something like 5 blocks in the dark. Took forever but didn't hit anything and my Captain was all smiles. There was money on whether I could do it or not.... it was pretty tight. The toughest part was not being able to set up for the next turn because there's no rearview mirror in the truck and so I had to rely on my crewmate to be my 'eyes'. It was total teamwork and trust. The irony is that by the time we got back to the hall, it took me two tries to back the truck into the bay and I told my crew with a laugh that I had used all my magic backing up powers and there was none left. I was soaked with sweat down to my skivvies but still gave my crewmate a huge hug. I LOVE MY STINKING JOB!!! Can't remember the last time I had this much fun!

Can't wait to see what tomorrow's shift will bring!

truck maintenance

We're in the middle of truck maintenance this week. This is where we inventory each and every piece of equipment on board (one day I'll list every item but it is literally dozens of pages long and would take me and hour to type), and wash and lube, wax or whatever needs to be done. No one really likes to do this chore because it's so labour intensive but many hands make light work so once we all get into the groove it's not so bad and we end up with a clean equipment and truck that looks shiny new. And then we sit and wait for a good call to get it all nice and dirty again. ;)

firefighters have curves

I often get asked why I chose to become a firefighter when there are a plethora of jobs that are deemed more 'suitable' for a woman. The simple answer would be that I'm made for this job. I have the genetics that make me strong giving me the advantage of height and heft, I understand the physics of fire and have a knack for hydraulics and the mechanics of operating different types of fire trucks. I love working with the public and crews. You don't need to be a man to do these things well. But having said all this, there are some inherent challenges to being a female firefighter and living life in the firefighting culture:

No matter how new or how much seniority you have, as a female firefighter, you are always being watched and judged. You will often be questioned about your ability, either by your colleagues or by the public. Because females make up 2% of the firefighting population, we stick out like a sore thumb and as such, we are not able to fade in the crowd. Everyone knows your name and this isn't always a good thing. If there isn't a rumour about you already, one will be made up. Any mistake made is magnified ten times over. All the female firefighters I know have very thick skins. I wear mine like a badge of honour. Thank God I have a sense of humour and never really give a rats ass what people think of me on or off the job.

A guy can go with his crew off shift and party and act like a dumbass and no one will blink an eye. Should a female firefighter do the same, her actions may haunt her for the rest of her career. There is that fine line between friendliness and flirtation. And while you want to be friendly and easy-going with the guys you work with, taking things a step further isn't the wisest choice. Things are usually fine until the big breakup then camps get divided. And the guys will remember you for who you dated rather than the great work you do on the job. The saying never sh*t where you eat applies here. As much as I would love to socialize with the guys off the job, if it's at an event where there is tons of booze being consumed, I tend to pass. Once I saw a captain who was so wasted he stripped down to his tighty whities. To this day I have a hard time taking him seriously, let alone am I able to look him straight in the eye. The image of him dancing on a table in skivvieis enough to send me to therapy.

The physical demands of the job are demanding. On everyone. Male or female. Firefighting is tough and not gentle on the body. For the women, add a pregnancy or two, the body doesn't get much of a chance to rest. After some days on the job, I crawl back home bone tired only to continue with my work running a household. This I suspect will not get any easier as I age. I do not look forward to menopause. The day I fear breaking a hip dismounting from the firetruck is the day I hang up my helmet. But as bad menopause might be for the gals, it might be far worse for the guys while we unleash on them as we go through it. Or fight to lower the station thermostat. Dudes, payback is a bitch. lol

Even if I won the lottery, I would still go into work because I love the chaos, the dirt, and the unknown that comes with the territory. And there is no other place apart from my own little family, that I feel as needed, loved and respected in spite of the ups and downs. Female or not, firefighting is my dream job. And while I may never be the greatest, the strongest nor the best, I am darn good at what I do. And that's all that really matters at the end of the day... and to be able to include myself in this band of brothers. xo

manopause?

Like all families, the fire hall gang is not without its own dynamics. Not sure if it was a full moon but during yesterday's shift, one of the guys with the most seniority decided to show his alpha dog stripes and started barking and unleashing his frustration about something seemingly mundane... and totally not worth losing sleep over. Normally I don't have a problem with this.... after all, we all have our bad days. Except that this dude was freaking on moi. Because the fire department is a paramilitary organization, I should technically defer to anyone who has more seniority than me. And in normal circumstances I would.... BUT.... because this guy kept barking at me long after his point was made, I was starting to lose my cool. If it's one thing I've learned in my almost ten years on the job, if you don't stand up for yourself, no one else will. And unless you're yelling at me to hustle because your ass or someone's else's is on fire, when it comes to yelling, I'm just sayin' don't. Nothing gets accomplished and nothing erodes morale more quickly. So, as this dude kept barking, I finally just barked back. This mama bear's roar is bigger than any dog's bite. Maybe not the most mature way for me to handle things but it quieted him down anyway.

Geez..... and everyone was so worried way back when that women on the job were going to be the moody ones.

no references needed

There are some firefighters I work with who are on the brink of retirement. And this, breaks my heart. Because not only will I miss them terribly but a wealth of experience, knowledge and history will go with them. Some of the old timers have been on the job as long as I've been alive and can still wield an axe like there's no tomorrow and understand the fire ground like Einstein understands physics. These are the men who drove stick shift fire trucks, wore the tall rubber boots and long coats into a fire and knew it was time to get the hell out when their family jewels were starting to roast.

Some of the guys are set to fly south and have their retirements all planned out. Others are just taking their time to figure out the next phase of their life. I have, in somewhat seriousness, asked a few if they wanted to be my children's 'manny'. Hey, what's a busy mom to do? Who better to help babysit my kids than people I work with and trust and who can cook and know first aid? Besides, Jacob adores firemen. At least I got a few laughs out of the guys. Being a manny would keep them active and fit chasing after my kids and beats mall walking that's for sure.

things that go bump in the night

There are quite a few things I'm afraid of: zombie or any horror movie, wide open ocean water... whether I'm on it or in it..... cockroaches and horseshoe crabs, helicopter rides, and bad haircuts. I can avoid the previous pretty easily... which is good. The other things that scare me are actually quite silly and embarrassing so I can't be bothered to mention them here lest my crewmates find out and tease me relentlessly. But thankfully, of all the things that give me the heebie jeebies I am glad claustrophobia is not one of them. Nor am I afraid of the dark. Which is doubly good because I wouldn't be able to do my job. I love feeling coccooned by my bunker gear, face piece and helmet as I make my way into a fire, often feeling my way blindly because the smoke is so thick that I can't see my hand in front of my face. Even though I can't see, I can picture in my mind what the room is, and what it feels like because my senses are going into overdrive. I can quickly figure out if I'm in the kitchen, the bathroom or the bedroom. Sometimes I can get turned about and get stumped but as long as I haven't let go of the firehose I can always make my way back to safety since there are indicators on the hose line connectors that tell me which direction is toward or away from the fire. I love our training days for these situations. With our face pieces blacked out, we are put through mazes and tangled messes of wires, windows that we need to climb over, furniture to go under, and tight tunnels we need to go through. Some of the spaces are so tight we need to remove our airpacks and push them in front of us as we crawl on our backs or bellies making sure we don't ever, ever let go since that is our air source. It's game over for your lungs if your face piece is ripped off . It's always a relief when that air pack is secure on my back again. Because I am usually the slimmest in comparison to the other guys at fire calls, I'm the one who gets stuffed through the basement window or tossed up through the attic opening. More often than not, I'm the one who crawls through the windshield of a car to get to a patient, or I might even get underneath the chassis of a truck. It's a good thing that I love that sort of thing.

It's weird isn't it? I know that fear is all in the mind. But I find it easier to not be afraid of situations at work because I know the events are real, and in real time.... whereas when I try to scuba dive I keep thinking some twenty eyed sea creature is going to turn me into a snack. And if I'm in a helicopter I can't enjoy the stinking view because I think who is going to catch me if I fall? And while I KNOW that zombies don't exist, I'd just rather avoid thinking about them thank you very much.

the squawk box

There's this thing called a squawk box that resides in all firehalls and it looks like a brown speaker from the 70's. Apart from the firetruck, the box is one of the most important tools linking the firefighter to the call. They're mounted on the wall close to the ceiling in every room.... from the bay, to the kitchen, the dorm, even the bathroom. See?

in the bathroom:

in the dorm:

in the kitchen:

And so they hang, most innocuously and mostly unnoticed until the alarm goes off. In actuality, there's no alarm.... it's four beeps or rather, four 'tones' in quick succession that snaps you to attention no matter what you're in the middle of doing. The printer spits out the map, and more details and the dispatcher continues to give important information over the box with updates on the truck radio.

In the dark of night, the tones can wake the dead. It's a weird and slightly uncomfortable feeling getting jolted wide awake at 3 am and get your butt going to the call. Because we're a two truck hall, we train ourselves to hear the tones and see which truck dispatch is calling. If it's not our truck, we usually fall right back asleep with one eye or ear open.

Last shift I was on the ladder truck and the pumper went out close to midnight. I went down for some shut-eye and did not hear them come back. Nor did I hear the tones go off at 3 am for the pumper to go out, and didn't hear them come back again. So in essence, I slept completely through the call. Big no no. But I was lucky I was on the other truck so it didn't matter anyway but it's always a creepy feeling when you sleep through an alarm. I must have been really, really tired. Thankfully, I know that if it was my truck getting toned and I slept through it, the guys would have kicked my bunk to get my sorry ass out of bed.

too much information....

note to self:

Whilst on shift refrain from eating brussel sprouts with cheese sauce.

Shortly after dinner we had a call and I nearly smoked myself out. You see, bunker gear, while it can protect you from intense heat and flame, also works as the perfect dutch oven keeping my own gasses in. I just about died of suffocation along with everyone within 3 feet of me when I unzipped my gear when the call was over. Oh well.

tunnel vision

One thing they drill in your head when attending a call is to avoid tunnel vision. It's hard to do sometimes. The greater the emergency, the greater the chance of having tunnel vision. Stress and shock can do that to you. We're only human and we react in human ways. There was a call when a firefighter took the pulse of a patient when said patient had no head left. (Sorry for the gore but this is the stuff we deal with). When you get the details from the dispatcher over the radio as to the nature of the call, you are mentally preparing with what you might be facing. Sometimes the info given is correct, other times, it can come with a twist. The key is to be prepared for the call, but to be open the the possibility that the call can be completely different and to shift into a different head space in a second. I had a call where it came in as male with difficulty breathing. This type of call we usually get at least once a shift and it usually involves an older patient with cardiac history 99% of the time. And these calls are quite routine in that we take their O2 saturation, pulse, blood pressure, give oxygen, obtain medical history etc. And then wait for paramedics to arrive and help stabilize and transport the patient. So you can imagine our surprise when we arrived to a 'routine' difficulty breathing call only to find out it was a baby... and because I was on the medical bag (we're assigned either the med bag or the defibrillator at beginning of each shift) I had to kick it into high gear getting the pediatric equipment out and start assessing. Normally I would have had the equipment out and ready because I would have know ahead of time we were headed to a ped call. Thankfully the ambulance was hot on our tails to aid in help. I've never like any rescue calls involving children. And now that I'm a mother I like them even less. And if I'm driving the firetruck, my pulse is racing that much quicker and I have to do everything I can to not drive with a lead foot. After a bad call involving a child, the rest of the shift feels like days on end and I can't wait to get home to give my babies a hug. And those are the days when I know I've earned every cent on my paycheque and I'm begging one of my crewmates to just say something funny and make me laugh because deep down all I really want to do is cry.

cleanliness is next to godliness

There's nothing I love more than a hot, hot bath except perhaps a hot, hot shower. It gets a little tricky when it comes to work though because a shower at work can be touch and go.

The night before I head into shift, I take a shower since this way I can just basically roll out of bed and head to work. I can get through the day still feeling quite fresh until we get a stinky call or we've been running around sweating or I've just finished a work-out. Summers of course are obviously worse. Then I am wanting/needing a shower by the late afternoon. (Or rather my crew is wanting/needing me to shower). But Murphy's law has it where soon as you start to get all sudsy and feel like belting out a few showtunes in the shower stall, inevitably the alarms go off and you have to figure out how to get your undies, shirt, pants, socks and boots on, get on the truck and wheels turning withing a minute and a half. (Yes, we are timed from when the alarm goes to when we leave the station... has to be under a minute and a half and we are supposed to arrive at the call within four minutes). It's even worse when I'm driving because I should be the first one on the truck to figure out the map and see where we're going and I have to radio that we're on the way. So, some days I just can't shower at work. Not so bad if I haven't been sweating.... uber bad if I have. Good thing I have many uniforms and just change into a fresh one. And at least now that I'm in a newer station I do have my own bathroom and shower. In the older stations I'd have to share with the guys and take turns. And even though I am no prude, that was always a bit weird. Come to think of it, I don't think I ever showered at those stations.... ewwwww, I know but what's a girl to do? Thank goodness for deodorant is all I can say.

feeling it

Mwuwahahaha....... yesterday's shift was a freaking blast. I was on the pumper which is the busier truck and forty minutes into the shift we had our first call..... and then they kept coming. And they were good calls that sent us running all day with our last call 10 minutes before shift change the next day. We had some good medical calls, carbon monoxide call, a forcible entry, two car rollovers... oh... and I saw flame. One was just a pile of rubbish some guy was illegally burning in his backyard and another was a grassfire.... it wasn't a fire fire but man, it spanned about 30 feet wide and ten feet hight and it was sure pretty lighting up the night. I wanted to hold hands and dance around it like a night druid but the guys would have thought I lost it. But secretly, I know they wanted to do the same cuz firefighters just love flame.

sistas

Everyday I am meeting more and more women who are applying to become firefighters. They are intelligent and well-read women who are choosing a blue-collar career. That says something amazing about this job. Although we are not performing brain surgery, we do need to think quickly and react within seconds to a crisis. Managing water flow off the tower as a ladder operator does require skills of a mathematician and a touch that is both delicate and tough. I think women have an innate sense of balancing both sides. When I was hired, there were less than ten women in a department of close to seven hundred. Now we are close to two dozen so it's nice to see the sisterhood growing. :)

I still find the physical and mental aspect of the job challenging every day. Especially as I get older lol... the body doesn't respond the way it used to. And mentally, some of the stuff you see can haunt you for life. I know some guys with post traumatic stress disorder that ended their careers. :( Perhaps because we are women, and letting our feelings show is more accepted makes us more immune. I'm not sure though... these disorders tend to build up over time and what you saw or experienced 10 or 20 years ago may resurface. Some experiences can be pretty grisly. I turn 40 next month and hope to put in at least another 15 years in this career. I will stay on the job as long as I can perform it as effectively as I can today. The stats aren't out yet since women haven't been in the fire business that long yet but I have a sense that our careers might be shorter lived simply due to the nature of our physiology, menopause and all those lovely things. I hope I'm wrong though. I find that I have never been more tired in my life now that I am a mom but these are the challenges that make me tougher I guess. It's been 9 years on the job and although I feel stronger it takes me longer to recover.

I love it when gals get hired. It brings a different vibe to the crew. My crew is amazing and are very accepting of me. We are like family and I love them to bits and we would give each others lives to each other both on and off the job. We all have our strengths and weaknesses and as a group gel nicely and not a day at work goes by without us laughing our heads off. I'm one of the lucky ones. Some of the dinosaurs out there hate working with women and can make life a living hell.

Enjoy the process ladies. The beauty is in the journey and it's one helluva ride :)