Where is the line

between ignorance and bliss?

I asked that question and received "Prudence and common sense" as an answer. Good point, but doesn't the question beg the point that ignorance is not truly bliss?

Hmm.

Anyway, I am a released EMT. I am responsible for a crew, a patient, a scene, an ambulance and pretty much all sorts of things that should terrify me, but, oddly enough, don't.

Another thing on the list of oddities: pediatric calls are fairly infrequent. Since I've been running as a released provider I've had three patients. They ranged in age from 6 days to 11 years.

Wanna see something funny? Send a girl who's terrified of infants in the first place into a pediatric office where she's expecting to find a 6 month old patient [eek!] and instead present her with a 6 day old actively being suctioned with a bulb syringe. {EEK!!!}

Ok, I know that suctioning mucous and junk is not a big deal for the most part. Babies throw up all the time, and they get gunky and need to be wiped up after, but this was kinda different and rather nervewracking. Fortunately, we transported and arrived at the hospital safely, but it's not something I'd like to repeat any time soon. Afterward I was emphatically told by both the medic AND the senior EMT on my crew that I can no longer run Thursday day shift.

I'm exhausted and wondering why I love this stuff so much......

....and I'm happy.

W. T. F.

For real!? Truly and honestly and....just REALLY?!?!???

Ok, so it's not like I ever had any illusions of being the only girl he was dating. And I didn't really think that it was going "work out." And I knew that I shouldn't be dating a nonChristian/nominal Catholic/whatever it is that he is.

But a kid?? He's gonna have a KID?! And I find out on Google. This is great. Juuuuust great. The irony is simply dazzling, and I feel sick.

I feel sick for me, in a way, just because....I was vulnerable to something like this. Oh my gosh. But I feel more sick for her. For that poor woman who is in a relationship with him, all happy and excited and planning a nursery and preparing to go through the most painful physical experience known to all womankind. How can he do that to her? She doesn't deserve to be two-timed. Nobody deserves that. And quite honestly, I'm pretty sure it's not two-timed. It's more likely something like 5 timed or worse.

What am I supposed to do? I finally talked to him about it, and he got toooootally pissed at me. Told me that I don't really have a whole lot of life experience to go on and that looking people up online is a bad idea because you might find out things that you "just don't need to know!" Said he'd "talk to me later" at the end of the conversation, but I'm not counting on it.

Why do I care? This hurts so much. My heart is breaking for a woman I've never met and the son she's going to meet next month. My heart is breaking for him, too. That he could become so emotionally detatched as to actually....oh, God. I'm a messed up cookie, for sure, but at least my screw ups don't hold intense attachment to a series of other people.

Or they didn't until this.

I knew from the moment I met him that my life would be different as a result, but this is beyond, by far, ANYTHING that possibly would have gone through my mind.

Now what?

Hey, God.

uh...You're supposed to say "hi" back now?

Hello?

*sigh*

Look, I know that things have kinda...sucked...lately. And I know that's my fault. I'm a person and imperfect and all of that. I'm sorry.

Ok, so I'm not REALLY sorry. Not in the "I hereby repent of all my wickedness and shall sell all of my belongings and move to deepest darkest Africa to pray for the pagans" sense of the word.

I'm not even sure what sense of the word I DO mean it; come to think of it. It's just...the thing to say when you're friends with someone and haven't talked in a long time. And, well, we haven't really talked, so, You know. . . .

Are you even there, or am I talking to Your answering machine? My dad's there, isn't he? He's listening to this whooooole thing and laughing at me.

Maybe he's missing me? Cuz I really, really miss him, God. I miss him like . . . like there's no description.

Every time I try to talk to You these days, he comes up somehow. And that hurts. So, uh, that's kinda why I haven't been talking to You. If I don't think, junk doesn't come up, and so it can't hurt.

At least not perceptively.

Until now, when I find my heart so simultaneously hardened and eroded that I don't recognize it at all and it scares me.

Where did the hope go?

Where did love go?

.....where the heck did YOU go???

GOD!!! ABBA!!!! I'M TALKING TO YOU DOWN HERE, DO YOU EVEN CARE?!

*pants*

That's an honest question. I'm not saying it to be cliche. I mean it. Do You care? Do You give a flying fig?

I cuss sometimes; does that horrify You?

Does that guy horrify you?

Are you horrifiable? Maybe horrify isn't the right word, but it's what's in my head right now. It seems that's the reaction I get from people who claim you.

Well, actually, it's the reaction I expect to get. Lots of them don't know. A few of them just look at me like I'm the little lost sheep. Poor silly Naomi, went astray and found a briar patch. Tsk tsk. Let's pray her out of it, boys and girls.

Yeah, pray me out of this while you stay in your happy little bubble of nonreality, where your love is ineffective because it bounces back in your face off the spring loaded smiley faced trampoline walls you build. Pray harder, everyone, because that version ain't gonna cut it this time.

Ew. Ok, God, I really am sorry about that one. Bitterness is something You don't appreciate, that much I know. And it's not supposed to grow in me. I don't think I knew that was there....at least, not like that. Yikes.

.....the artifice has gotta get to You too, though, right?

Now and Then

The thought that the person I was 3 years ago would be horrified by the person I am today is something that's been on my mind quite a bit these days. Since I haven't really been able to explain it satisfactorily to people who ask me what I mean, I thought I'd write it out and see if that helps.

The me of three years ago was at enrolled in a yet to be accredited conservative Christian college. She was convinced that God brought her to the east coast from the midwest for reasons yet to be revealed and that loving a guy who didn't love her was her calling in life. The me of three years ago was something of an emo drama queen sometimes. Three years ago, I was working on the campus of the college I attended. I continued working there because I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to find - or handle - a job anywhere else, even though I was entering upper level course work in a government policy degree and attaining the highest GPA I'd ever achieved at that college. Three years ago, I was striving for independence. Rescue Squad was nonexistent in my world and I drove around in an Oldsmobile.

I knew a grand total of...zero...nonChristians. My world was a safe little bubble all wrapped in pretty paper.

Today . . . I still have emo drama queen tendencies, but they tend to drive me up a wall, so I crush them rather than embrace them. No longer attending or working at the conservative Christian college, no longer convincing myself to be in love with someone (though there are a host of questions in that area of my life right now that I'm just sort of mulling over) Government is something I hiss at and avoid like the plague. My grades while pursuing a degree in nursing are better than any I got while studying policy. I drive a Dodge and Rescue Squad practically owns my soul.

The me of today counts people who don't love God among some of the most amazing individuals she has the privilege of knowing. And they're PEOPLE to me, not projects, or things to put on a prayer list.

I think that's the thing that would rock the world of three years ago me more than anything else. That, along with the fact that the shiny paper got shredded, the bubble was popped, and reality doesn't look anything like the distorted gauzy picture we paint from behind the plastic stained glass of modern Christianity. Life is tough out here -- but it's ALIVE.

Better

"I'm getting better!"

And not in the Monty Python sense, either. It's an amazing thing to realize that God infuses us with hope we can't control - or kill. More amazing is the fact that He places people in our lives to truly love us when we're at our lowest sludge point.

(oddly enough, realizing this makes it easier for me to be a decent EMT...)

Now I just need to figure out how to carry on a conversation with a non-drunk, non-crazy person....

I write in poetry when I can't say what I mean for real. It's probably some sort of coping mechanism, evidenced by the fact that poetry generally happens when I'm working through some sort of crisis or other less than deliriously happy experience.

The thing is . . .I find this annoying. What I write has feeling, yes, but I don't want to write painful or hopeless sounding trash, so the hopefulness that gets expressed often feels tacked on or obligatory and thus, I hate it.

Besides that, my brain and style are stuck in the SAME METER EVERY TIME. Do I know that poetry doesn't have to rhyme? Yes. Yes, I do. But it doesn't matter, because if I write something that doesn't rhyme, it drives me nuts, and so I search around for just the word to fit my syllabic cadences. Then I FIND the word, and the fact that I found it drives me nuts, because I didn't have to, darnit, I was just writing.

Hmph.

Anyway. I am not doing well these days. Admitting this is probably indicative of a pending betterness, but honestly, I'm not holding my breath. Surface level is ok; keeping busy and getting rid of last week's beyond nasty sinus infection. Beyond that...well, let's talk about something else, shall we? I got mad at God and didn't talk to Him for a while and now things are in such a state that I don't feel as though I have any right to talk to Him. So, of course, I yell at Him. That definitely helps. Until I realize that I have no place to be doing that and so shut up again.

For being female, my communication skills are abysmal.

There wasn't too much to me
When you walked into my life
You asked simple questions
The answers were concise
But minutes turn to hours
Hours turn to days
Your presence became something
I expected in some way

Our tastes in music were so different
Our age and history, too
But you seemed to like my presence
And the fact my eyes are blue
So the minutes became hours
Hours turned to days
And your ever-prolonged glances
Flattered, in a way

Now it's six months later
And glances became more
You wrapped your arms around me
My heart didn't feel so sore
Strength is an anesthetic
When it's not my own
I'm addicted to the numbness
The pretense of a home

A call tonight from someone
Who's known me many years
Made me realize something
That should render me to tears
It's a disturbing thing to notice
In the middle of the night
You never really loved me
And I can't make this right

keep on breathing
keep on bleeding
though no one sees the wound
looks like a scar
but do you care
to know real life this soon

yes, keep on breathing
please stop bleeding
pain like this can't last
time will heal it
truth reveals it
shadows overcast

if i could just stop bleeding
must i stop breathing?
no, He did that once

He kept on bleeding
then stopped breathing
and kicked death's sorry...*cough*

if You kept on bleeding
so i can keep breathing
why does it hurt so bad?
i feel i don't know You
Your truths are just virtues
like life is a joke - time to laugh

but i'll keep on breathing
eventually stop bleeding
and You'll hold me close
safe
not alone

What's Love Got To Do With It?

Is it possible to love too easily and yet somehow not really at all? Sometimes I think there's an invisible wall just below the surface of my heart. A person gets in and starts to feel the warmth but then lightly smacks into this immovable resistance. The warmth is soothing and pleasant at first, but like a shallow bath, cools all too quickly and you find yourself wanting to get out or plunge deeper - the sooner the better.

Love, by definition, is not self seeking. So why is it so hard to tear down so-called defenses?
The whole process makes me simultaneously cagey and lonely, excited and terrified, analytical and emotional; to the point that I wonder if sanity is something that I can actually claim.

And why is it that I can't seem to really write what I mean these days?

Ok, I'll say it.

QUIET!

AAGGGGHHHHH!!!!!

I went out to an east end station to precept today with the idea that I'd actually get some calls.

Ha.

One little old lady and six hours later....

Patientless Call Sheets

So now I'm precepting. Last week my Virginia Certificate arrived in the mail and so I'm spending every possible moment [within a slight degree of reason] at the station, simultaneously anticipating and dreading calls. I know that they're not going to throw me out there without any backup, that's why I'm precepting, but still. It's kinda daunting at times if a girl thinks too much.

The majority of my precepting experience has come in the form of patientless call sheets. We get dispatched and then put back in service while en route, or we arrive and discover that there's no patient, and no door to be unlocked because the kid woke up and unlocked the car already.

Sometimes, I tell ya . . . .

I won't actually SAY the "q" word, but it seems like it could apply to the western front these days. At least when I'm running.

In other news, the new job is going quite well. They decided to use me as a tech, instead of a secretary, so I get to wear scrubs and deal with patients on a face to face level, rather than sit on my butt all day and answer a phone for 8 hours. I'm happy. (besides that, there's the whole three twelve hour shifts a week aspect, which isn't half shabby when you're looking at going back to school . . .)

Last week I finally "went out" with a group from the station. It was fun. I had a few drinks I'd never heard of, successfully dodged attempts at getting me wasted and basically had a good time. While I don't understand how people find the money to do that on a regular basis, let alone why anyone would want to drink their brain away into oblivion, I'm glad I went. Buddies are good to have :-)

Passage

On Saturday, June 14, 2008 at approximately 1300, I passed the test to become a Loudoun County EMT-B. My partner and I nailed trauma, medical, BLS skills and airway practicals the first time through. The one we didn't get - AED - can be attributed to nervousness combined with lack of equipment in the scenario. When your adrenaline's going, it's hard to remember that there's hypothetical oxygen to hook up. As for the written, I missed my goal of a perfect 100 by one measly point. Hmph. Yet another lesson in critical reading skills on multiple choice tests.

State testing is on Thursday. Tonight's my first shift back at the station. Life is crazy busy. And somewhere, somehow, I know:

I was made for this.

Loneliness

Feeling lonely is sort of a choice, I guess. But there are some degrees of it that cannot be worked away.

For some reason, my heart wants to find a buddy. I don't want to fall in love, and all interaction with males of the single persuasion is not really convincing me to change my mind on that topic. I don't even really want a best friend, though I'm seriously missing my macadamia these days.

No, I think my heart is wanting church. Not the "put on your happy face, sing the songs, plunk you butt in the pew and then leave for whatever activity of your choosing" version, but the "let's live life together, tell me what's up, or let's just sit and let God talk to us together" version.

And I can't find it.

Maybe this is on my mind because they keep telling us to prioritize our personal safety on scene, because, after all "each of you is someone's favorite person." Ha. That's true for several people, but I know it's not the case for me. Sure, I'd be missed, but it's not like anyone would be devastated. . . . death has a way of making a girl cynical, I think. Besides that, my brainwave's lonely. Dad's been off it for over two years now. I'm still kicking, but nobody quite gets it.

I don't think I'd want to know if someone did.

Good grief, this is not coming out the way I mean for it to. No more late afternoon musing under tired stress!

A Day in the Life

of absolute insanity.

In the words of my native land: Uff da.

Yesterday I got up and went running in the morning, which somehow gave me tons of energy for all of Monday -- enough to get through an insanely boring lecture and then go shopping afterwards.

Today, I slept in and felt like I was going to fall asleep at my desk every time I sat down.

Anyway, while boxing graduation supplies and other various bookish supplies that the Publications Department handles, I got a phone call. I went inside to speak with the background investigator handling my friend's application for work in the intelligence field. While speaking with said investigator, the chain on my bullet broke. It was rather sudden, and I didn't have opportunity to display sadness. Because the chain is now so short, it's hanging from the rearview mirror of my car.

After the investigative discussion, I returned to the trailer and continued sorting emails and boxing packages and hauling packages to the mailroom and making an overall mess of my work space. There were a lot of orders and many items to restock, meaning many empty boxes. They started adding up after a while.

And I was still tired, so I took lunch break to go retrieve caffeine.

It didn't really help.

But I kept working. And people came out to be trained and package things and the pile of boxes got bigger.

And then there was this whole thing about being set up on a blind date, and the conversation I had with my mother as a result, which involved being informed that I must have inherited my lips from my dad. . . .

Now I'm sitting in a chair at home, waiting for the internet to come back on so that I can finish a conversation with a friend and post this ridiculously disjointed blog post. Katie's making bread, because she's amazing that way, and I'm going running in the morning with the hope that it will give me energy to get through the day. Energy is going to be in high demand, because I have to finagle my way into an entrance exam with the community college and then go to EMT class... There's lots of stuff to study these days, and now I have a job interview at the hospital on top of it.

Good grief, God, I need sleep.

Interestingly enough, I was thinking about Him today and realizing that I've been tending toward going through the motions of relationship rather than just . . .living it . . . recently. He's working me out of it, thankfully, but I hate that it's so easy to get back into that formulaic mentality.

Sitting at the Station

And the whole addiction to coffee that the rest of the world seems to have finally begins to make sense. My body is getting more and more accustomed to being up early, but the whole being awake part? Not so much. Caffeine is an amazing thing, but I really hope to keep ingestion of it to a minimum.

There have been a variety of thoughts running through my head over the past couple of weeks. A whirlwind trip up north got me thinking more about family relationships and how much things change over time. It's so weird to realize that it's been almost 2 years since Daddy died. A year ago it seemed like yesterday. Now it seems like another life.

We've entered the medical portion of EMT class. Lectures on the differences between administering and assisting with medications and what our protocols allow us to do abound. As do skills sessions in which the evaluator attempts to confuse me . . . and succeeds. Note to self: even if the station is named "medical" and the entire focal point of class for the past week has been medical scenarios, consider the possibility that your patient may be a trauma case. :-P

There's a potential job opening in a local hospital that will pay for nurse's training in addition to a regular pay check. God never ceases to amaze me with how He just provides for needs at the right time. There are times when I feel as though there's almost an excess, and times when it seems as though there's no way anything will work, but when it comes down to it, everything is taken care of.

Kinda crazy. We'll see what happens over the next couple of weeks. Between placement exams, application exams, ER rotations and class, I'm not sure how much time I'll really have to think about what's going on. But I know that it will be good :-)

"I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead . . ."
~Lifehouse, "Broken"

It's too late for me to be awake and typing coherent thought. I got up and ran at 5AM today and just confirmed that I will be getting up and running at 6AM tomorrow. This song is good...Nat and I make good non-bakey pies...and now I have cool sneakers that were FREE.

That's all. :-P

Insomnia

I cannot get myself to sleep. Today started before 5 AM and my body will not just SLEEP. What is wrong with me??

Maybe there's just too much in my head to get out. Ok, fine, here's what's in my head*:

EMT class is amazing. I want to do medically related work all the time. I love it. For years, I swore off the complete dedication bordering on addiction that results in having no life, and it's finally to a point where that doesn't matter any more. This stuff is AWESOME! As incredible as the level of excitement I have is . . .heh, it's not like we're actually doing anything all too wonderfully thrilling. We just went over patient assessment some more this evening, as well as a couple of specific skill sets - MAST pants and special soft tissue injuries (yay for making donut rolls out of cling! do you know which types of wounds require a moist dressing? :-P) I'm getting to know some people in my class, and one of my classmates asked me to cover for her later this month while she's gone on a business trip. Hopefully that works out, because getting some time in at different - and busier - stations would be great.

Of course, all of this comes at a cost. I don't know what is happening with my life at all right now. Hopefully I'll go to NOVA and get into the nursing program, and I really believe that'll be the smartest thing to do, long term. But at the same time? Man, I'd really just like to get into Recruit school and do Fire/Rescue (ok, so mostly just Rescue...) for the rest of however long. Part of this probably stems from being less than thrilled with my current job. No discredit to my employer is meant by this, it's just the way it is. I've had the same job for almost 4 years, and there's really nothing there to challenge me anymore . . .aside from being steadfast and patient and other good things. Which are all . . .good things. So yeah, I'm not complaining, just...yearning for further mental stimulation.

It's annoying to need to have a job that pays money. Honestly, if it weren't for my car...or the fact that I need to pay rent...or that whole insurance thing...or tuition...life would be a lot simpler.

And then there's the whole guy thing. Which really isn't all too confusing, I guess. At least, I don't THINK it is. And so, I should just not think about it, until further interaction proves me wrong, which I don't think it will. Bleh. Whatever. I just don't like feeling potentially confused.

All of this, of course, is further confused by this stupid sinus infection. I HATE my sinuses! Ok, so not really, but seriously. Every time I get truly horribly sick? It's a sinus infection. I'm on antibiotics for the first time since highschool and they're making me sick to my stomach. Yeah, so the whole pressure in my head thing is decreasing, but does it really have to occur in such a way that makes me think food must be the invention of Satan?

God's been teaching me an awful lot about love and trust lately. Of course, I always say that. Those are sort of the themes of life, as far as I can tell. But when you think about what it means to truly love those around us, it's rather intimidating. When God says everyone, He means just that. Sometimes, I can convince myself that I'm getting better at that, but when I step back and really look at the situation, it's pretty obvious that I'm not. In some ways, there has been significant growth -- I'm a lot more accepting of people being who they are and not expecting them to meet a certain set of guidelines for acceptableness as a human being. Having said that, however, actually presenting the truth and reality of my relationship with God in such a way that opens doors for further dialogue is something that needs some serious work. *sigh*

And I have amazing friends. That's enough for now. :-P

*to be taken with a grain of salt . . .or several grains. it's after midnight, after all

Unknown

Heard a voice on the radio
It made me think of you
Wonder what you did today
Everything that you've been up to
Do you miss me
Do you think
I do enough of that for both of us

Heard a voice on the radio
Strong and deep and sure
You make me laugh
And that reminds me
Sometimes real love is pure
Do I miss you
Do I think
You stopped enough for both of us

Heard a voice on the radio
Maybe someday I'll hear yours

The Great Protestant American Work Ethic

The USPS heralds it: neither rain, nor sleet, nor wind, nor . . .whatever. . .will keep them from getting the mail through. Hooah, oorah, and whatever other manly sounding buck up and face the storm sort of expression you can come up with, the idea of working and making it to the office regardless of the obstacles in your way is a grand American precept.

The forces of nature we are supposed to endure and slog through also contains sickness.

Nevermind the fact that, if you stay home for a day when you feel slightly gross, your body will have a chance to recoup and ward off the forces of infection assailing your valiant immune system. Go to the office! Demonstrate your commitment and fortitude to the cause of data entry and other tasks that simply would not get done without your dedicated presence at every given opportunity. While you're there, your coworkers will provide unwillingly welcome little havens for the rapidly growing family of infectiousness inhabiting your upper respiratory system.

Of course, upon infection, a reasonable person may decide to remain at home to give their courageous leukocytes a chance to build more effective defenses. This person will be simultaneously pitied and unspeakingly scorned for their weakness. Then, because said person really isn't a slacker, but a legitimately interested employee with a desire to aid their department, person will figure out a workable solution for doing some mildly irritating task from home.

Person will rejoice via text-based communication to a fellow employee and fellow employee will then inform person that some policy, somewhere, deems person not able to do said mildly irritating task from home.

Welcome to the American workforce.

Dropping Out

Withdrawing. Retreating. I prefer to think of it as advancing to a more strategic location.

It's amazing how something that evokes an initial reaction of disappointment or chagrin can actually be good.

Over the past couple of weeks I've learned the reality of steps determined by God as opposed to the ones planned by me. Yesterday, I withdrew from Regent University, and I don't regret it one bit. When I think back on my time with them, it becomes rather obvious that I was grasping for security in the here and now and my own understanding, rather than trusting that God did indeed have the master plan.

It takes me a while to learn these things. PHC was the same way at times.

Anyway, I'm no longer a student, and by all initial external appearances, there's nowhere for me to go.

But that's not the reality of it.

Never before in my life have I really felt as though I'm living confidently in faith. Sure, I've had moments of clarity, but these past few days have just been SO amazing! I want to write down every moment and capture it to look back on someday when it doesn't seem really possible, but in order to live it out, I can't stop and reflect for as long as that would take.

As sudden and seemingly random as all of the changes in my life as of late seem to be, I should be freaking out. But I'm not. At all. In a way, dropping out of school is kinda like an eaglet getting dropped out of nest . . . and discovering what it means to fly.

Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. ~Hebrews 4:16


[nursing school, here i come!]

Great Expectations

Somewhere along the line, I gave up expecting anything.

Anything, that is, save disappointment.

The realist in me requires some sort of disclaimer: disappointment is part of life.
The cynic says that's all there is to it.
The optimist says "disappointment means you hope!"

And the rest of me is sick of labels and analyzing and just wants to be me.

Basically, God's been teaching me to expect Him. I spent so much time constructing this model of how I think that life should work. And as I live, it becomes increasingly apparent that my plans aren't necessarily the ones that He has for me. From college to career to the confuddlement of relationships, nothing is as I thought it would be.

But it's good.

Huh?

So I've crossed that invisible line that I avoided thinking about for so long.

Last week, I went on a date.

It was fun.

It was also weird. I don't date. Come on; I'm...me. Me doesn't go out with some random guy who just decides that he possibly likes me. This is completely foreign. I've heard of people doing things like this, but God, I'm finally in a place where I like my life. It's not bad. Seriously. You let me do what I want, when I want, and I like it that way. Men just complicate this really nice arrangement we've got going, and I don't want any complications. The last few years have been plenty complicated and I'm ready for quiet simplicity.

I think I need to change my expectations.