Confessions and Ghosts

 

For those of you who have known me for a while, you know that if I get rattled, especially at work, I’ll rarely show it.  I laugh things off, make jokes and do magic tricks, its how I cope, most of the time.  Sometimes though, things carry with you.  I’m not immune to what I do.  I do bring things home with me and I have my “ghosts”.  I’ve been realizing more and more recently that it is getting harder and harder to hide everything, whether it is an injury or just feeling out of sorts.  Lately, things have really rattled me.

 

When I talk about ghosts, I’m not talking about a haunting spirit in the traditional sense.  My ghosts exist within my mind.  They’re the images and voices of calls (both while on duty and occasionally while assisting off duty) that don’t let you forget.  I still remember the face of my first patient, over 5 years ago, I can still tell you his vital signs, what happened and the fear I felt.  In the end, he had a few bumps and bruises, but his ghost haunts me.  I can still see his face, I can still feel the panic and fear that comes with the “First call”.  He doesn’t haunt me often, and its not an overly negative experience, its just the “First”.  I’m not quite so lucky with others.  Over the years, as expected in this line of work, I have been a party to death.  There is something very eerie about knowing that you are “Bearing Witness”, you’re watching somebody’s last breath, you were the last person they saw.  These things stay with you for the rest of your life.  Pleas of a dying young man, not wanting to leave his mother alone, the silence of a child lost far too young, the heart wrenching agony of a family that lost their grandmother.  These things don’t ever go away. 

 

I don’t walk around all the time with strange feelings and voices.  Quite far from it, actually, most of the time these things are about as far from thought as they could get.  Every so often though, something happens that reminds you.  You begin to remember these things, the ghosts come back. Sometimes when you close your eyes to sleep, you see the faces and hear the cries.  Its not an easy thing to deal with.  Eventually you get used to it, eventually the voices are quieter, the faces fade, but never truly gone.  As old ones fade, new ones appear, every year brings something new.

 

I recently had an uncanny experience.  While transporting a patient who was terminally ill, I realized that he bore an incredible resemblance to one of my relatives.  He looked and sounded like a cousin of mine (who is also of somewhat ill health) and it rattled me.  Seeing the doppelganger of a relative lying on your cot can bring into question your whole existence and purpose.  I wish I was exaggerating the impact that an even like this can have, but sadly, for a number of days afterwards I was questioning my choice of work.  In the end I let it pass from my mind, but these things never go away completely.  Shards of every call and experience accumulate in piles deep within the psyche. 

 

It has been a few weeks since I began to write this, and as I re-read to finish it, I still feel similar feelings, though not as deep, but I do begin to wonder if all of this is just a dream, or if I’m just crazy.

Respect

 

I had the great misfortune today of being told that I’m a dumb kid.  It wasn’t told to me in such blunt and straightforward manner, rather, through a systematic deconstruction and critique of my life choices.  This has lead me to a simple question.  How old do I have to be before I am accepted as a fully functioning human being and as such are respected by fellow adults. 

Today’s saga began with a rejection letter from Saskatchewan Student Loans.  I was told that I had too many assets that could be disposed of, so therefore, I didn’t qualify for a loan.  There are a lot of calculations, legalities and complex financial processes that are still a mystery to me, so I can’t totally explain why I was rejected, but I can give the basics. 

I bought a car this spring.  After my last car had some major transmission and cooling problems, and I was unsure if I would be able to make it to and from work without a tow truck, the decision was made that I needed something newer and more reliable.  As an EMT, getting to work is important, not just because I have a job and I need to be there, but sometimes my not being there can cost people lives.  A little dramatic I know, but I think you follow my meaning.  I paid a good price for the vehicle, but, being the second owner, I lose a significant amount of resale value the second I sign the paperwork for it, so it is now worth less then the amount it is financed for (as is the norm with vehicles). 

Saskatchewan Student Loans told me that my car is worth too much and I should sell it and take the profits to pay for my education.  A noble idea, but, unfortunately, it doesn’t work.  If I sell the vehicle, I’ll stand to lose about $2500 due to the depreciation of the vehicle at point of sale to me.  

When I got my letter, I called and asked what I can do next, and they said because it is so close to the school year (it starts today), they would be willing to let me sit down with somebody to discuss an appeal and possibly approve me right away.  This is where my issues began. 

My process began with a “can I help you?” in a rather surly and sarcastic tone.  I gave her my name, my paperwork and my drivers license.  She looked and asked where my Schedule 1 form was.  The Schedule 1 is the form that you get when you are approved, which I was not.  I said I did not get one, and she told me to come back when I did, that nothing could be done until I had one. I pointed to the letter in front of me that said that I wouldn’t get a Schedule 1, because I didn’t qualify at all.  She seemed unhappy that I didn’t simply vacate her office, so the process continued. 

I was asked why I believed I was special.  In those very words.  I simply said that I was unsure the calculations were correct and that my current assets were not liquid, and I was unable to secure funding if I did attempt to liquidate them.  She rolled her eyes and asked what I meant by that.  I stated that I was unable to sell my vehicle for a profit as it had been recently financed and purchased, so therefore there would be no leverage-able asset value within the vehicle.  She simply told me that if I cared about my education I wouldn’t have spent so much money on a car.

I was unhappy.  I was very unhappy, but I was still diplomatic and I explained my situation, as to the need for a reliable vehicle and such.  She told me that it was my problem that I worked elsewhere and that there are plenty of jobs within the city that I could be doing that did not require similar transportation, if I was too “important” to purchase a more “reasonable” vehicle.  My car was just over $10,000, I didn’t find that to be unreasonable in the least. 

The conversation began to turn into a lecture.  I was lectured for 20 minutes about how I should have planned better and that since I have a job I should be saving for school and not wasting my money (on trivial things like food and rent), and that being a casual employee was no excuse for not finding full time work like all the other good little girls and boys out there.  I was told that I was wasting taxpayers money and that I really had no right to burden the average Saskatchewanian with an education I didn’t really care about. 

I was mad.  Fortunately, I am lucky enough to have a backup source of lending to pay for this semester of school, but I was angry.  On my way home, as I wondered what I did wrong, I realized, I was toast from the moment I walked in the door. 

This lead to my question.  I figure for 24 years old I’m doing alright.  Living on my own for 5 years, engaged to be married next year, good job, good life and a fair contribution to society.  It also made me wonder about other people I deal with and the respect I get.  I thought the choices I made were reasonable.  I’m not saying that I did everything right, I probably could have worked more in the summer, I probably could have found a way to save more, but things were tight for the most part because of the expenses that life throws at you. 

I wonder when I’ll have reached the magic age in adulthood when I will be respected as an adult.  I know that if maturity is a factor, I’m getting close, yes, I have fun now and again, yes, sometimes I do enjoy things that are “immature and frivolous” but I think I live in a fairly good fashion. 

I get respect at work, mostly because of the uniform and everything it stands for.  I don’t have to fight to be respected because its for the most part implied.  I don’t mind sometimes that my life choices are questioned, its good for a person, it keeps you thinking about your direction and how to make things better.  What does bother me is the assumption that I’m young so I don’t know any better.  I don’t like having to fight for equal respect, I respect people, regardless of age, the same way I would like to be respected until such a time that a variance is indicated.  I don’t know if I’m just an idealist, nor do I know if I’m just plain crazy, but I’m 24 years old and I’m an EMT, I’m not some dumb kid anymore.

Pants: The odyssey of a Fat Man.

 

So there I stood in the largest mall in North America.  I needed some new pants.  For Reference, I measure the following:

Waist: 39 3/8” (actual) 40 (size)

Inseam: 31 7/16 (actual) 32 (size)

I was happy I was in a mall that was this massive, it meant I had choice, I had options, I could get something stylish.  And then, it hit me.  I’m too fat for pants. 

I’m not grossly overweight, I carry a beer gut but I’m in relatively good shape otherwise. I’m a size 40 for the most part, small variances may lead me to buying a size 38, but right now 40 is what I’m looking for.  You would think that with all of these documentaries and studies about the nation being overweight that it would be easy for a fat man to find clothes, think again…

There are Big and Tall stores, but, most of them start at a 42” waist, where “Traditional” retail seems to leave off (occasionally at large department stores up to a 46” can be found).  Unfortunately, there is a gap that is forming. 

I’ll start off with a list of stores, these stores are not fat-man friendly, no, these stores are built for skinny people and skinny people only, occasionally you’ll find a pair of pants up to a 38, but they aren’t cut for a big guy, they’re a supersized version of some emo-kid’s ass-huggers.

The List:

Gap, H&M, America, Calvin Klein, Underground, lululemon, Le Chateau, Buffalo, Lacoste, Abercrombie and Fitch, Hollister and Zara. 

I walk right past these stores because I know, nothing fits.  These are absolute no-go stores, because the largest label size is 36 (and these are relative, they fit like a 34).  Now, all of these clothes are expensive, and for those that know me, I have one suit over $1800 and the rest of my clothes are happily bargains.  I live in a uniform for the most part and I don’t care about looking “hip” “trendy” or “cool”.  Although I wouldn’t normally shop at these stores, it cuts down the options significantly as to what I can wear. 

Now for the other list, stores I can always walk into and find something that fits:

Eddie Bauer, Mark’s Work Wearhouse, Old Navy

Sad, but in an average mall, those are the only 3 stores I can bank on. Now, I can also shop at the big department stores, as they do have a wide selection, but lets face it, when is the last time there was something decent to wear at a big-name department store. 

So what happened to me on my trip?  I went to Old Navy.  I rarely shopped there before, but I was opened up to a new world of clothes that work for me.  I have 3 criteria for clothes, and it all must balance out no matter where I shop: Economical, Durable and Figure Flattering.  I want to look good, yea, I’m fat, but it doesn’t mean I can’t wear something nice. 

As for Old Navy, I found for under $50 2 pairs of pants that fit well, seemed quite durable and looked good. I found shirts that fit a guy who is broad in the shoulders and in the waist (with a barrel chest), and I found an array of clothing that was right for me.  They have a decent enough array of styles to fit most of what I’m looking for and they’re economical.

Eddie Bauer is also one of my standbys, but they don’t fall into the “economical” category.  They are durable and they look good on a guy like me, but they are expensive.  It is, however, nice knowing I can always bank on Bauer having my size. 

As for Marks, they’re the cornerstone for me.  Tough clothing, mid-ranged prices but, they don’t look anywhere remotely “cool”.  Its clothing for middle-aged guys, which I’m okay with most of the time, but every so often its nice to have a bit of style. 

So here I sit with some new clothes for a new semester of university, ready to take on the world.  Remember, it aint easy being fat.

A Ballad

Standing in the rain, sirens wail again

I don’t know what I’m going to do

Another one down, the silence breaks

A cry in the night for the dead to wake

I do what I can, but I don’t often win

Wait for my chance to go at it again

Never make promises, those you can’t keep

The voices they haunt you as you lay to sleep

I can’t show my feelings, my eyes cannot cry

To wait for the rain and a silent goodbye

My heart fills with ice, no feeling breaks through

A rock I become to help see me through

I crack and I stumble, sometimes I fall deep

I long for those arms in which I can weep

I’m not a cruel soul, I feel these things too

But as long as I’m here, I’ll never show them to you

Dinner for One, Part 11

 

There I stood, standing in a strange bookstore, open late, in Grande Prairie AB. It was around 10:00pm, and I was bored with strippers and beer, so I wanted to go for a walk.  When I stumbled upon this establishment, I was unsure of what to make of it.  It was a small store in a somewhat run-down strip mall in Downtown GP, books about UFO’s and Vegetarianism dotted the window display, beaded curtains hung above the door and the unmistakeable odour of incense wafted through the air.  It brought tears to my eyes… mostly because I was somewhat sensitive to the incense.

 

When I entered the store, I expected to find a woman in a tye-dye t-shirt and sweatpants greet me, wish me well, ask about my karma, comment on my aura, offer to take my dogma for a walk…something along those lines. Instead, I was greeted by a young woman wearing a very nice looking chic outfit.  I was immediately thrown off balance by the complete unexpected nature of what was unfolding before my eyes.  I couldn’t have been browsing for more then 2 minutes when  she offered me a cup of tea, and we struck up a conversation about Hemmingway.  She commented that I was far too well read to be a rig hand, and I said that she looked nothing like a hippie.  She asked what I was doing out so late, so I told her about the drunken debauchery taking place just down the street.  We laughed about how neither of us fit.  We talked for almost an hour until the store closed and my colleagues decided they wanted to move on to the local meat market for more drinking and partying.  She and I parted ways, a cordial kiss on the cheek, exchanging of pleasantries about the evening and then we went our separate ways.  There were no names, no expectations, no guilt and no regrets. 

 

As the evening progressed, we went to the local “nightclub” known as the Corral.  A large warehouse with overinflated drinks, loud music, flashing lights and far too much testosterone.  I was most certainly out of my element. As the pack “Dispersed” to go find mates for the evening, once again I found myself in a strange and awkward place.  I was sitting at a table off in a relatively quiet corner when a woman came up to me.  She was maybe in her early thirties, nicely dressed and thankfully sober.  She said she thought I looked like a bourbon drinker and offered to buy me a drink.  I always found it hard to turn down a free drink.  She sat down beside me and introduced herself.  She was an office administrator and the “Girls” decided that they wanted to go out for the night and have some fun.  I mentioned that I was in the same boat with my co-workers and that I really wasn’t in my element.  We drank to shared feelings and got to talking.  She said that she wasn’t interested in “hooking up” or anything, but she thought I looked like I would rather be elsewhere and that misery loved company.  Once again I seemed to have stumbled upon an excellent partner for passing some time.  My conversations with her were less intellectual then those at the bookstore, but they didn’t need to be.  We chatted about whatever came up, work, personal lives, etc… It was somewhat of a joint therapy session.  As the night went on, we shared stories of home and our reasons for searching out better opportunity in the green pastures of the oilfield.  She remarked that this was the first time she had a chance to just sit and talk with a stranger for the sake of talking.  Once again, we drank to shared feelings. 

 

As the night wound to a close, the bar began to empty and I was reunited with 2 of my colleagues.  They asked where our other comrade was, and I remarked that I was unsure, I hadn’t seen him since they went out hunting.  We decided to wait outside until the bar closed to find him in the crowd of people leaving.  Much to our dismay, as the bar emptied, we were unable to find him.  After waiting another fifteen minutes, we decided to leave, assuming he had found alternate transportation to an alternate bedroom.  When we returned to the crew house, we found him, sleeping face down on the sofa in the living room.  The next morning he asked what time we got home, we told him that we waited for him until after 2:30, and he was nowhere to be found.  He seemed shocked and surprised, and briefly glanced underneath his blanket.  He didn’t know what time he got home, or for that matter, how he got home either. 

Almost a year gone...

So, its been nearly a year since I last posted. A lot of things happened in my life that changed me. I got a new job, left the Oilfield, got a nasty case of PTSD and ended up engaged. I've gone through some rough times lately, but I'm back. I know nobody really reads this anyway, but I figured since I'm going to link from my facebook to it, I might as well have some new stuff here. So, what can you look forward to from me? Well ladies and gents, I will have the anticipated installment 11 of Dinner for One, a commentary on Facebook, Morals and Ethics and still more. Stay Tuned...

Canada Votes 2008

So, its been a while, but I return with a political message this time. As some of you may know, Canada recently had a Federal election. The incumbent party was the Conservative Party, with a slim minority government. They just returned to power with another minority government, this time holding 143 of 308 seats in the House of Commons.

The Prime Minister, Stephen Harper stated Canadians "Voted to move our Country forward". The party is hailing the result as an indication of increased strength and the desire of Canadians to move toward a Conservative majority. I personally see quite the opposite. I believe that today's result is far from a decisive victory, rather a narrow defeat.

The main opposition to Stephen Harper's Conservative Party are Stephane Dion's Liberals. Although the Liberals lost a number of seats in this past election, they can claim their 77 seat opposition spot as a major victory.

Ever since the last election, the Liberals have been in a state of upheaval and disarray. They have lacked strong, decisive leadership since the retirement of Jean Chrétien. Although Paul Martin lead them to a Minority government, his role as Leader and Prime Minister was transitional. In the wake of major scandal and a political fall from grace, Martin was seen as part of the "Old Way" and would be fighting an uphill battle to win over Canadians.

Enter Stephane Dion. During a controversial and scandal ridden leadership convention, he emerged as somewhat of a surprise winner, the Heavyweights Bob Rae and Michael Ignatieff being the two favored to take the top spot. Vote-splitting amongst delegates from other hopefuls lead to Dion securing the popular vote.

After the dust settled on the convention, there was shock and awe. Many members threatened to quit the party and great divisions began to grow within the ranks. These divisions went all the way up to the highest level of the party. People were not confident in the abilities of Stephane Dion, and furthermore noted his difficulties with English. These difficulties were reminiscent of the days of Chrétien and his notorious mangling of both of Canada's official languages.

So the infighting began. Mud was slung within the party, divisions ran deep and the party was in a state of total disarray. Even long time party supporters refused to back their leader (and still refuse to this day) because of their concerns for his policies and what most insiders consider to be one of the worst platforms ever devised.

So on one hand we have the Liberals in a state of disaster, scrambling to try to form some semblances of unity to try to conduct a successful campaign. On the other hand you have divisions within the Left. Jack Layton, leader of the New Democratic Party (NDP) became embroiled in scandal when he told the media that he refused to attend a leaders debate if Green Party leader Elizabeth May was allowed to attend.

Both parties targeted similar demographics, but with a distinct difference, the NDP has a chance of winning seats. These divisons destroyed what could have been a powerful venture. Although no chance for either party to form a government, with the elimination of Vote Splitting on the left, they would have stood a better chance of gaining more ground against the Conservatives.

My conclusion about this Election is that the Conservative minority is a clear message that Canadians aren't comfortable with the direction that Harper wants to take the country. The opposition parties were in a total state of disarray, there were no hard fought battles. The ads were uncreative and really disappointing, and there wasn't the strong spirit that usually gripped an election. Partially shadowed by economic slowdowns and the US presidential election, the election brought about a surprise. When Stephen Harper should have rallied his party to a landslide, instead, he limped them into another 4 years of Minority Government. I think the message is clear, Canadians aren't willing to take a chance on Harper, they want to keep him in check.