I have a new blog http://www.testthisis.wordpress.com.
When I comment on a blog it directs you here...but I'm actually over there.
Thursday, December 09, 2010
Thursday, July 08, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
(I'm going to talk about poop...if such things make you squeamish move along) This darling girl here...POOPS IN MY HOUSE...A LOT!!!!
And it's wearing thin with me.
I'm all about loving them in their golden years. Creating a comfortable world for them. Feeding, petting, loving...you know, all that crap.
I asked Kim on the phone the other day, when she was also complaining about poop...or barking. Her pug Bobo is about a year older than my old ladies. I asked her, "Can you remember when they were young and cute and fun?". Yeah, me neither.
Actually I can. I remember hours of frisbee, the longest walks at the dog park, the day she swam out in the river chasing the really big goose and the day she chased my Dad's cow through the fence and went nose to nose with a HUGE bull. She had spunk.
The thing is she's still spunky. She doesn't have any trouble getting around, has no medical problems, she's funny, likes to have her ears rubbed, takes her treat into Amanda's room before she eats it. It's not the time. That time...we all know what I'm refering to.
But I can't stand the poop.
We can't leave her out because she barks. Just enough to make us, and the neighbors, want to shoot her.
I'm thinking diapers.
Posted by Jenn at 2:47 PM
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
I'm going to change the names to protect the innocent (stupid people...not really so innocent) and also not to get my arse in a sling for talking about work on the Internet.
We had some weird calls on a recent shift. Some days are just like that.
Call one. Dirty house. One of those you want to shower and change your clothes after. Complicated pregnancy, overly dramatic symptoms with a story that changed enroute...hot...to the hospital. Hospital not patient friendly. Weird...I don't think her water broke...I think she wet her pants.
Call two. Mother with 3 kids. Kid 5 yrs old has flu symptoms. The kind that the only thing to do is hold her and try to keep her hydrated. Kid wants to go to the hospital. So mom calls ambulance and they get a ride to a local hospital.
Call three. Prank phone calls. Have to send fire truck to investigate due to certain verbiage used. Dad yells at us that the neighbor kids are hoodlums. And that there are no kids at his house...all the while...four little girls are standing behind him flipping us the middle finger.
Call four. Chest pain. Pain scale of 9. Pain so bad that it woke him from a sound sleep. I'm getting info from very anxious girlfriend who says, over and over, "I'm so scared. We were having sex. I'm so scared. We were having sex." We get to the ambulance and patient continues with story of being awakened from a sound sleep. I write large on piece of paper. "They were having sex" and hold it up for the EMS guys to see. Turns out pain was being caused by a bad chest cold. It wasn't the sex at all.
Call five. Vehicle fire. Pickup truck. Burning on the front end and the back end. No fire in the engine compartment. No fire in the passenger compartment. No fire in the inside of the bed cover. It looked like someone had poured something flammable on the truck and lit it on fire. At 5 in the morning. Don't criminals sleep?
At 4:15am when we returned from call 4...I know I shoulda just made some coffee and been up for the day. Tossing and turning for 45 minutes until we caught the car fire just made me grumpy.
At shift change we were talking about our runs with the oncoming crew. We got to brainstorming ways to identify stupid people who call ambulances or fire trucks and shouldn't. Joe suggested cattle tags. Every time you call 911 for a dumb reason you get tagged on the ear and have to wear it for 90 days. Kind of a "I was a dumb ass and called 911" scarlet letter.
I think I like it.
Posted by Jenn at 11:58 AM