Things I have learned this week . . .

How to direct traffic. For four hours.

I look dead when I fall asleep sitting up. Or at least that's what I'm told.

No matter how hard I try, I look like a prisoner in all my departmental photos.

Men's uniform pants fit me better.

The probationary firefighter assigned to my Lt. and I is kind of different. I don't think there's a whole lot we can do to change that unfortunately.

If caffeine and chocolate does not fix it, sleep will.

The best thing ever is going to breakfast after work with your buddies to decompress.

You never know what kind of a difference you can make . . .

Greetings! . . . You are now screwed.

Part 2 of Sgt. Traffic's amazing class.

"You rednecks don't have K-9s out there. You probably have a rabid raccoon in your trunk."

"Look. When you get a letter from the courts or the government it should say this: Greetings! . . . You are now screwed."

"Here's a list of some of the more obscure laws for you, break these out when you're so pissed your eye is twitching."

"I had someone ask me to post-date a ticket until after their court appearance for DUI. Seriously."

"NO. They do NOT get a warning for that. If I have to complete THAT much paperwork, somebody is getting a ticket. Press hard, three copies."

"What the hell are you talking about? That's not even in my statute book! If you write somebody for that I will wear you out!!"

"THAT is grounds for a TASER. NOT handholding. I should use it on YOU."

Rollovers, telephone poles and you . . .

An hour before shift change we get toned out mutal aid to assist a neighboring FD with a semi truck rollover because their squads are tied up. Upon arrival we discover one downed telephone/electric pole and another broken off half way up. The semi is lying on its side and the cab is in pieces. No one from the neighboring FD is paying attention to the fact that the cracked pole could break and drop live wires on everyone at any time. We yell at them to get the hell out of the way before we all die, and move the patient to a safe location. We then discover half of the other department's personnel has walked through the diesel leaking out of the truck. What the hell?
It was like everyone on scene took a vacation day and forgot any training/scene safety they had ever learned.
The other genius moment came when our patient started coughing up frothy blood. EMT of the Year candidate (note the obvious sarcasm) from the other FD tells me this . . . "He's fine he just bit his tongue." WTF?! No jackass. He has a hemopneumothorax. Which was confirmed by our assessment, and the ER. He went to the trauma center against EMT of the Year's best protests of, "You guys are so paranoid, he's just a little banged up." Yeah. About that. That's why we had to intubate and assist ventilations en route. Because he's fine. God, I hope this kid never treats me.