hi ho, hi ho...

... it's off to work I go. Hope this tour is crazy busy! xo

ack!

.... started going over my study material while on shift yesterday and there are over three thousand pages!

Holy crap. This exam is gonna be a doozy.

wish it could be forever

I am the first to admit that once I get in a comfortable spot, I like things to stay that way. I do not submit readily to change. I love this stage of motherhood where I cannot believe that my daughter could be any juicier or more delicious. And my son more fascinating in his development. They are both too cute for words. I get into a bit of a panic if I think too far into the future... like what they are going to be like when they are teenagers but this is why I don't think far into the future because I prefer to live in the now and enjoy every sweet moment. It applies to work as well. In my near decade on the job as a firefighter, I have never felt happier, more accepted, more sure of myself than in this moment. I give lots of credit to my crew for creating this amazing dynamic and synergy that I have never seen among any fire crew I've worked with before. We truly are a family. Which is why I feel a big panic attack coming on because our Captain will be retiring in January and our Acting Captain will be promoted in the new year and moved to a different station. And my senior crew member will be retiring in the summer and with his retirement I will not only be losing a mentor, but a great friend at work. I know we will be able to connect off the job but still, it's not the same as running a call together. If I could take my work situation and freeze frame it as a moment in time, I would. I would be happy to live out the rest of my career this way. But alas. That's not how life is. Life constantly changes. It has to. Whether I like it or not. For example:

Yesterday I was informed that there will be a promotional process in the spring and I am eligible to write my Acting Captain exam. If I don't write, I won't be eligible for promotion for another five years. I have been waffling for ages about whether or not I want to put over half a year of my life into studying for this position or if I even want this position. I love being a boot. I love driving the rigs. Acting Captains don't normally get to drive. And if I continued with the process and became a Captain I would never get to drive to a call again. But more than that, do I want to be in charge? Do I want to call the shots? Can I live with a bad decision made at a call because we're all human and mistakes happen. I don't know. Part of me has to write this exam to push myself into another challenge and continue growing. Part of me knows I can do it. Part of me is scared shitless. But my crew and my husband have been giving me the pep talk of a lifetime so....... beginning tomorrow I am going to start hitting the books. Exam is 7 months away. Pass or fail the worst thing that could happen is that I've gained a whole lotta knowledge on fireground procedures which as a firefighter it doesn't hurt to know stone cold anyway. And I won't be left wondering whether or not I can do it because it will all unfold the way it's supposed to naturally... as life does anyway in its natural ebb and flow.

So much for staying in that nice comfy space. Wish I wasn't so darned A-type. Wish me luck. xo

September 11

I've been mulling over what to write about September 11... and now, a day and nine years later, I am still at a loss for words. I cannot think of anything that I could possibly write that could take away the horror of that day, let alone the images we saw in the media, or the pain of those who lost loved ones. And I cannot take away the disturbing fact of knowing that there are people so full of violence and hate that walk among us.

There are a multitude of theories as to who was responsible for that day. Be it terrorists, or whoever the conspiracy theorists think it may be, the fact remains that close to three thousand people lost their lives. And for what?

We're all still looking for answers.

As a mother and a person who wants to believe in the good of mankind, it burdens me to think that there are people who want to hurt others to any extent. My children are still too young to know of 9/11. Have I been lying to them in telling them that bogeymen don't exist? The sad thing is that I think I am. A liar. And possibly a hypocrite. Because I tell Jacob that I will always keep him safe and be here for him. And when I drop him off at daycare with Maiya, I always say, 'see you soon, Mommy always comes back'. Yet I run into burning buildings when everyone else is running out because this is the work I love and do. But in doing so, I might not come back. These are the calculated risks of my job. If 9/11 happened in my city I would have gone in. But knowing the outcome would I? Could I leave my children motherless? Could I still call myself a firefighter if I balked going in choosing my own life to raise my children over saving the lives of strangers? I don't know. These are the million dollar questions that are unanswerable until the split second the decision needs to be made.

The odd thing is when I think of 9/11, I do not feel anger or fear... there is enough of that already. Rather, while there is sadness, my heart is filled with love when I think of the men and women who faced that day because they were braver than I think I could ever be.

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.

if Obama can become president then I can...

Hmmmmm. A friend just emailed me about my previous post and asked me at what point does one give up on the firefighting dream if it may not become a reality? A very good question indeed. On average for every job hiring, two thousand people apply for a possible 15 to 30 career firefighter positions. It doesn't take a mathematician to see that the competition is stiff. Still, I think it's do-able. Someone has to get hired... why couldn't it be you? I find it ironic however, when talking to my senior crew members who have been on the job 30-plus years tell me that back in the day it was a job you couldn't give away. It was dirty and dangerous and you could get on with a grade 10 education. And all you did was put out fires and there were only 2 breathing apparatuses on the truck and only sissies used them. The medical bag wasn't for the public but to patch up firemen after a call. And the O2 bottle was there to bring 'round those fire breathers who took in a bit too much smoke. One legendary retiree used to run into a house on fire while still smoking a cigar. These guys were tough as nails. We've come a long way since then, with better gear and technology, and better knowledge of long-term health and safety. We now encompass first response emergency medical care, high angle and water rescue, hazmat calls, extrication, do inspections and educate the public. Although not necessary, most departments won't even look at your application unless you have some form of post-secondary education, fire college often preferred which can cost you to the tune of ten thousand dollars and up before you even get to apply. In addition, you will need your CPR and first aid certification, your truck license and air brake endorsement, and be in kick ass shape... again... this is all before they will even hand over an application to you. Then you need to score tops in the entrance and physical exams, pass background checks and sweat through a series of interviews. But I digress.

Getting back to the question at hand, 'at what point do you move on?'. I think that is highly personal. I know some people who landed the job after their very first try, while it took others seven years. For me, it was a 'whichever comes first' thing. I was in the midst of preparing to go to paramedic college but got the call to become a firefighter in the meantime. Either option was good for me and I wouldn't have been disappointed either way. I don't advocate anyone to give up their dream but I think when the dream becomes all consuming at the expense of your family and friends, bank-account, and the things you love then you should reconsider. I think when your entire self-worth is dependent on whether or not you get the job, or if you think you cannot be happy until the day you are hired, then that is not reason enough to keep at it. You are not the job. And the job is not you. Firefighting is an extension of who I am, but I am not defined by it. However, working as a firefighter is an amazing bonus in my life, just like being a mother. It helps shape who I am and is very much a part of me, but it is not what I am.

So I have no clue if I've answered my friend's question properly but there you have it. My 2 cents. :)

dreams come true

I am often asked the question 'How did you become a firefighter?'. To which my answer would be 'Fake it till you make it'. That's not to say I randomly ran around wielding a garden hose looking for house fires to put out. Instead, as ridiculous as it sounds, I would imagine myself driving the firetruck every time I heard a siren go by. I would picture myself in bunker gear and shiny new helmet, trudging up a million flights of stairs, imagining the weight of the equipment on my shoulders, seeing the smoke, feeling the sweat and smelling the stench. In my mind, I already had the job. It was only a question of when. And the firefighter make-believe games I had in my head made the vision all that much more clear. I would visualize different scenarios of myself as a firefighter while going on another boring run in preparation for the physical entrance exam. It kept me from getting discouraged, or worse, kept me from being totally bored. Keeping my eye on the prize got me to where I am today because what you think about, you bring about. I also had a plan B that if things didn't pan out the way I wanted to in the time frame I had set for myself (because if I didn't get on by a certain point my body was going to say 'heck no' because of the physical demands), I was still going to do something that I loved. Either way, it was a win-win situation and having a plan B took the pressure off of my plan A. Thankfully, I never had to go to plan B... although when I walked in to write my entrance exam and there were close to two thousand people waiting alongside me, I had to muster all the courage I had not to turn around and walk out the door. But then I caught a glimpse of the Fire Chief... with his gold braid and bars and stripes and flashes.... and I just had to be part of the magic. Because when the Chief spoke with pride of his fire department and said that firefighting is the best job on earth and thanked us for taking the time to apply, I was convinced more than ever this was the path I wanted to take. And even though everyone sitting beside me was competing for the same darned position and seemed bigger, taller, stronger and male, well, I felt like I had my all to give and nothing to lose. And at that point I wasn't going to be a shrinking violet against the wall at the high school dance and was going to give these big boys a run for their money. And I wrote that exam and later did the physical like it was my last day on earth.

Three months later I got the call. And I was like a kid in a candy shop when I reported to headquarters and they handed me my shiny new gear with my name on it. And although our beloved Chief is no longer with us physically, he was the person who inspired me that day of the exam with his genuine words that to me were as powerful as Martin Luther King's. I knew at that point I no longer needed to feel insecure about my abilities. Leaders like my late Chief are hard to come by. I am grateful I was able to tell him that before he passed.

The most amazing things happen when a tiny seed of an idea from one's imagination becomes reality. Add some inspiration and some hard work and I believe any dream can come true. Mine certainly has. xo

first day of school

Well, here we are. Jacob started junior kindergarten today. Normally this rite of passage can be full of tears for both mom and child but nope. Jacob as you can see was thrilled to go. And I, while excited that he will be beginning his 'formal' education, don't feel all that different because I shed all my tears when he started daycare 2 years ago. And we're all used to it by now. So thankfully, today is a normal day and we're in our normal routine. And I am even more thankful that he is not at that age yet where he is fussy with what he wears to school so there was no 'must have' back-to-school fashions we needed to buy.

Still blows my mind that he is no longer a baby but this fantastic little person full of hope and promise. I wish I still held on to that childlike exuberance.... where along the way into adulthood did I lose it?

So no tears today for anyone so that is great but then again, I am not a mother who pines for the past, or misses babyhood. Don't get me wrong, I LOVED the infancy and toddler stage but I find with each and every stage of childhood development, it becomes more exciting and gratifying. The only stage that makes me a bit nervous is the teenage years but that is years away so no point in trying to think that far into the future. All I know is that I am really loving the present. I am still amazed that my children, although such a part of me, are these amazing separate little human beings with their own thoughts and views. And the fact that I am their mother is icing on the cake.

monotony of marriage

If there is one thing that is without a doubt more challenging than being a mother, it's being a wife. I've been completely bored.

Lately my husband and I have been tiptoeing around on eggshells trying not to set the other one off. It hasn't taken much lately to get me to the boiling point. The umpteenth Blackberry call my husband must take during dinner makes me want to toss the darn thing out the window or better yet, stomp on it till it's in smithereens. An empty fuel tank makes me want to leave the car in the middle of the road and charter a limo. His wayward socks and tardiness leave me in utter despair. Sometimes I choose to simmer quietly but more often than not, I will burst forth with a verbal assault only to give way to a multitude of tears. The children have not noticed too much but I don't fool myself into thinking that they are unaware. I grew up in a household where my parents never openly fought but I knew there was a bomb ticking beneath the surface. I do not want to be that bomb so I choose to get my feelings out, as my feelings happen. Both children are sensitive enough to know when their mama is having a rough day: Maiya will come over and wipe my eyes and Jacob will climb on my lap and give me a hug. He has even offered me a band-aid to fix whatever boo boo ails me. Because no grown-ups should ever burden the lives of children, I have sat Jacob down and explained that people sometimes get mad at each other but it doesn't mean they don't love each other. And explained that it's kinda the same when he and his sister are fighting over a toy or who got more snacks or whatever. I prefer that my children know that parents can and do have disagreements as it is part of any growing relationship. I do not want them to grow up thinking that a marriage is a perfect place. I would be setting them up for a trap otherwise. I think it's ok to fight.. as long as you fight fair.

Part of my frustration with my marriage these days is that we've both been consumed with the children and with work leaving us very little time or energy for each other. Plus we live in an open concept loft so needless to say, we're not swinging from the chandeliers on a Friday night. Besides, by 10 pm we can barely keep our eyes open. So I am totally and utterly thrilled we are FINALLY going on a date night. This Friday the kids will be sleeping over at my parents', giving us the opportunity to reconnect. The last time we had a date night was, oh, exactly the night Maiya was conceived... which was 22 months ago. So we are overdue for a night out on the town. And as long as I don't get pregnant again, even staying home and having beer and pizza will be a treat. But we're going to do it right. It will be nice for me to put some heels and make-up on and have a dinner at a restaurant that doesn't have booster seats and paper placemats and crayons. It will be nice to not have to be in bed early knowing that the kids will have me up at the crack of dawn. I will be able to sleep in for the first time in years. And if we don't sleep in too long before it's time to pick up the kids, we may even go for brunch! Hallelujah, I think my marriage has been saved. ;)

blogger

A blog is a weird thing. Weird because I'm a really private person and here I am broadcasting very personal things about my life at home and at work. I find it easier that complete strangers read my blog as opposed to my colleagues, probably because my 'work face' is so very different than the feelings that I have inside. I hide my worries and fears behind humour and often a false sense of bravado. I can be very guarded with people I don't trust and come across as insular or jaded and hide behind a facade that I am infallible and nothing bugs me. But what I don't hide are my genuine feelings of gratitude and appreciation (and ok I'll go as far as love) for the people I work with. I would never say that I love them to their faces because that would be more than slightly awkward (lol) but I do in the sense that through thick and thin, and when the shit hits the fan they always have my back. I trust these guys with my life so that I get home safe and sound in one piece. How many people can say that about the people they work with? I am one of the lucky ones. I care about my colleagues like they are my own family. And I share their hopes and dreams as if they were my very own.

I sometimes worry if I am offending anyone with what I have to say or if I am embarrassing any members of my crew or the fire department or even city I work for. But provided I write from a place of truth, then no one can judge me or take that away from me. I blog because it is a cathartic process and it helps me work through things that are racing through my head. Blogging slows me down and for this A-type personality that is exactly what I need. I suppose I could always journal or scapbook but my handwriting sucks and well, scrapbooking is just not me. Plus I love the way a blog looks.... all clean and tidy and so accessible. And it's an incredible way to keep all my experiences in one neat and convenient place where perhaps one day my children can look at it and gain a better understanding of their mother and realize that I'm human (and not crazy!) and have always just done the best that I can. And even though this blog is open for everyone to read, I take comfort in the fact that this blog is all mine and that I do it just for me. xo

as the red light turns

I've always wanted to write some type of soap opera based on fire house living called 'As the Red Light Turns' or something like that. There is constantly an interesting, gossipy, or disturbing happening going on usually filled with high octane drama. What I find truly interesting as a female observer at our fire house is that men can and do gossip with the best of them. I've mentioned the saying before that if you want to spread some news around you 'telephone, telegraph or tell a firefighter'. I've tested that theory. And it works better than smoke signals and morse code. What is ironic is that most often the guys who dish it out the most are the ones who can take it the least. I have had my fair share of ribbing... and the way I've survived apart from growing some shoulders and some teflon skin, is to not show any chinks in the armour. Because once they know what gets to you, they'll pick at your scabs until you yell mercy. But I think the only thing worse than getting picked on is not getting picked on. When you're being ignored that's when you know you're in trouble. To be ostracized at the fire house would be an unimaginable fate. You do not want to get kicked off the island. I have seen it happen at other stations and you do not want to be that guy having to put your own flame out 'after the tribe has spoken'.

day at the beach

Saturdays are Jacob days when I'm not on shift. This past weekend I thought we'd pack some snacks, take the train, and play tourist and head to the harbour. To our delight there were a zillion things to do:

Canoeing in a man-made pond:


Taking part in a drum circle: (Jacob had a blast and didn't want to stop)


After walking around for a few hours and watching the tall ships dock and the street buskers I was starving. Jacob wanted a hot dog but I convinced him we needed to sit in a fancy restaurant and enjoy the view. We found a nice Italian restaurant overlooking the lake and J had fun watching the chef make and cook his pizza in a wood oven. It was cute when he reminded the chef that he forgot to put on the pineapple. Here's J fine dining. Don't worry, the honkin' large glass of vino is mine, not his... :) He was as good as gold during the entire dinner and I was a proud mama when other diners commented on how well-behaved he was.


We walked off dinner and came across the police marine unit...


...and a man-made beach plunked above the shore-line with a great view.


We made it home with a very tired Jacob. He fell asleep in our hallway on the floor soon as he walked through our door. lol


Looking forward to when Maiya is a bit older and we can all spend entire days romping around exploring the city but she naps 3 hours a day and besides, she is enjoying her Daddy time. Just love the post-nap hair and look on her face.... lol

laughs and giggles

Well, it hasn't been all doom and gloom at the firehouse. After a rash of bad calls and even worse moods I feel like I'm back to my old self again. Although I must say the guys may sometimes prefer me when I'm a bit more serious (and not pulling pranks!). For some reason when I get the giggles I can't stop laughing. For. Hours. And it gets contagious. I just have to look at a crewmate and the giggles will set off. There were a few times when I literally had to step into the bathroom to try and gain my composure. The only thing that will wipe the grin off my face is when the alarm goes but inside I'm still grinning and doing the 'happy-fire-dance'. But anyway, for whatever reason one of my crewmates and I couldn't stop laughing while we were in the kitchen and I managed to grab a picture. My crewmate is gonna kill me if he sees that I posted his face but there is nothing more I love than sharing a big laugh and his grin is cute to boot so I hoping he won't mind too much. If I'm ever having a bad day I can just pull up this pic and it will set off the giggles again. Laughter IS the best medicine. xo

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.

even Xena takes a break

I was looking at my recent flurry of posts wondering when did I get so darn sensitive? I used to wear my toughness as a badge of honour. Bad calls phased me as much as a grade 9 science experiement. So when did I lose my jaded attitude? Not sure. Maybe because now that I'm 40 I feel like I don't have anything to prove to anyone other than myself. Maybe because I embrace the fact that this firefighter does have curves and knows that she doesn't have to be a man to do a man's job. Maybe because for the first time in my life I am allowing myself to feel and it's all whooshing out of me. Maybe because I know that even Princess Warriors sometimes need to take their armor off and take a break. And still be able to do the job just the same albeit with less machismo and more of a softer side. xo

my continuing journey

I don't think I truly thought this whole firefighting thing through when I decided to take on this job. One of my blessings that is also a curse is that I don't think too far into the future and I make decisions based in the now. This helps me in the fact that I don't worry too much about what's going to happen a decade from now, but is also a hinderance because my choices can create some problems. For example, I am not the first female firefighter who is a mother, nor will I be the last. But I have to say that it has been a challenge and a juggle and I have had to make a lot of compromises in my life. It is not easy being a woman in the fire service. The gals I know on the job make it look easy but trust me, it's not. It is certainly fun and satisfying in so many ways but it is a tough, challenging job that takes its toll the more years you have under your belt. I pray menopause doesn't hit me for another 10 years and osteoperosis never kicks in. There are days that, mentally and physically, I do not thrive. As much as I am determined to keep my two 'lives' of motherhood and firefighting apart, recently, my two worlds have been colliding and I have been spinning on my axis at warp speed. I have been bringing my job home which is something I rarely ever do. Some of the calls have hung over me like a dark cloud and some decisions made at the scene by others have left me shaking my head in frustration and left me irritable beyond words. Normally I doff my firefighting job the minute I don my civilian clothes. And normally when I get to work I can push aside the responsibilities I have at home and just enjoy my 24 hour tour at work. But lately home 'stuff' has been nagging me: I've been snapping at my husband and children and feeling resentful at the lack of 'me' time. I know these feelings are normal being a working mother but still...... there are some days I wish I were superhuman and could do it all with a smile and nary a complaint. The guys at work can see the wrinkles beginning to fracture my face. At least I can talk to them about what I feel. They've been a great sounding board.

Not sure why I'm writing this post but perhaps it's because I met a gal who was bubbling over with enthusiasm about wanting to become a firefighter. I was faced with making the decision of telling her the truth of the uphill climb and struggles she will face or of painting a rosy picture. I could tell her the benefits are great, uniforms cool, shifts are decent, or I could tell her she will see things that will rattle her to the core and be under physical duress that is at times unbearable and the intensity of the heat and physical exertion will make you want to throw up in your mask. I decided to tell her my truth... that firefighting is as much a part of me as the children I birthed and the air I breathe. And that I have fire for blood. I told her my truth because looking back a decade ago, I was exactly this young woman. And nothing would have stopped me anyway no matter what anyone could have told me because my journey to becoming a firefighting mother was my own to discover.

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.

awake

Can you believe it? Exhausted as all f#ck and still awake. What is going on? Don't you just love insomnia?

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.