At what point did you deem that appropriate?

So last week I was at a three day training on drug laws. It was not required to wear your uniform during this. My department has a strict policy about what you wear to training. Business casual. Period. Don't ever let a supervisor hear about you or see you in a t shirt, jeans, tennis shoes or other inappropriate items.
Enter the other people. First of all as a female in law enforcement I am hyper aware of how I dress. I don't want people to think I'm a skank, a badge bunny or an idiot. Apparently the other six women didn't get that message. I had to tell one well endowed girl to pull up her shirt, because parts of her anatomy were showing that were illegal. Two others had pants so tight I thought they'd split when they sat down. At least one had inappropriate undergarments that showed through. I did not see one female with a shirt that my supervisor would have approved. Mine would have told me to go home and change, then come back to training and sign my disciplinary action.
Various officers had jeans, t shirts with sports teams and other random things on.
People please. Khakis, polo shirt. Write it down.

Wherever you go . . . there you are

After a union meeting several days ago, that ended poorly to say the least, my coworkers and I came to a conclusion. We can sit around and say "they (the administration) are going to do what they want" and "why bother it won't do any good." OR we could be proactive. I don't really give two hoots if the union shreds my ideas in front of God and everyone. I don't care if the administration laughs in my face. The SO, like any political agency, has its pitfalls. There are days I feel like I'm beating my head into a brick wall every time I try to prove a point. But you know what? I love my job, (for the most part). I dearly love the people I work with, and even some of the people I work for. I trust the Sheriff.
So here's the deal. I have had ideas shot down more times than I can count. But the last time I checked, I didn't get anywhere sitting on my ass. You never know unless you ask, sometimes you might be surprised. And if you never try to change your surroundings, you'll be looking at the same thing forever. So get up off your butt and do something. I don't just mean if your union is in negotiations. I mean make your job a better place. Make a difference in someone's day.

BROTHERHOOD

Miranda angina and other things not to teach your kids . . .

Apparently there is a small percentage of my coworkers that has the same mentality of a five year old. And by small percentage, I mean roughly half.
Much like small children you should not say things around them that you don't want repeated. An all time favorite squad "diagnosis" after calls is "Miranda angina." For the non-public safety people out there let me translate; allergic to arrest. The chest pain has an onset directly after arrest or shortly after arrival at a correctional facility. I wish I could take credit for how amusing that phrase is. I cannot. It belongs to "Words that should be in the EMS dictionary but aren't." A favorite column of mine in JEMS that disappeared.
Enter me sharing this with a few co-workers at the jail. Then imagine my surprise and sudden panic attack upon seeing it written IN A REPORT. What the hell?! I immediately called the misguided officer who typed said report, and told him that was probably not appropriate in a legal document. His argument? "It's in quotes, so it's funny."
Thank God he did not quote me.

It's a joke people. Enjoy it. Try not to get us all fired in the process though . . . There's some things you should just keep to yourself.

I remember . . . Never Forget

This morning as I enjoy the quiet darkness of my neighborhood, I only ask one thing of you today. To say a prayer for those who we lost, those who survive and those who are serving.

The FDNY's 343, the men and women of the NYPD and PAPD. The countless emergency service workers who served at Ground Zero, the Pentagon and in that Pennsylvania field.

Your men and women of the armed services who fight for our country. Those who have come home, those who will never come home. KIA, MIA, POW, you are not forgotten.

For those who wear memorial bracelets, and permanent scars on their hearts.

"Let's raise a glass to those that have passed / Raise them for the finest that we knew / Going Home's been played / And the pipes all put away / Let's hear it for the boys and girls in blue"
- The Moonshiners, Boys and Girls in Blue

I love bacon . . . and could you pass the butter?

Recently, and by this I mean approximately three hours ago; my best friend in intake and I came to a realization. We love bacon. Eggs, grits, coffee with or without cream and sugar, pancakes and butter. Apparently we have an addiction to breakfast food. I mentioned this before in my post titled Bacon and Doughnuts. Now, however I have recruited more people to my side of thinking. Pass the sugar, its been a crappy night. Debriefing sessions in the form of breakfast are now held regularly for mental health.
Luckily for my cardiac health, I have still been working out with my team from the academy. Which is a good thing . . . Alright boys, scoot over; the home fries won't fit on my side of the table. Good eating to y'all, and have a good morning.

Thanks Lt . . .

Occasionally in passing in a post I will mention my all time favorite fire Lt. to work for. This is the man that got me started at my first "real" fire dept., who helped get me my job at the SO and who once saved my life (literally). Labor Day weekend he invited me and some of the boys from the FD to come have a beer at his new house. As we sat on the back deck watching the kids play, there were some reflections.
I have been at this FD for five years, I was getting horribly burnt out for a variety of reasons. My Lt. had the wisdom to temporarily give me up to another unit day with brand new firefighters. Not just any probies, but a girl willing to learn and a guy that catches on quicker than most. I will never know how my Lt. knew that the way to combat my disgruntled and tired self was to give me hope. Hope in the form of probies. Who knew teaching them to cook their first firehouse meal or helping them with the EVOC could change my feelings. I miss working my Lt's unit, but I know why he did what he did.
Two years ago, my Lt. saved my life. I would not have survived without his intervention. You can never repay that debt.
This Labor Day as we sat on his deck and traded stories I thought of all the people I have ever worked for. He is by far one of the best supervisors and leaders I have ever served under.

Thanks for everything Lt.

No you do not have swine flu . . .

As I've mentioned in some of my earlier posts, my department happens to serve the campus of a fairly large university. Apparently, since there have been multiple confirmed cases of swine flu; everybody and their brother thinks they have it.
Case in point: Our squad is dispatched to "female ill" in one of the academic buildings. Of course we are eating lunch, so the engine proceeds to laugh their asses off at us as we leave. Upon arrival we find a girl in the fetal position in the hallway. Assessment reveals vertigo, weakness, nausea, abdominal cramps and the last oral intake was yesterday. Hmmm. My assessment sixth sense along with my law enforcement bullshit meter kicks in. "When was your last menstrual period?" "Uh, right now. Started this morning." Hmmm. "You don't think this is related?" "No, I'm pretty sure I have swine flu."
Are you f'ing serious? (No, I did not say that out loud.)
No fever, chills, sweats or anything else. ER result? Menstrual cramps . . . How 'bout that shit?