When David and I met, I made it pretty clear from the get go that cowboy boots, dirt, messy hair and animals were just part of the package that was me. He 100% knew what he was getting into….ok maybe only 40% knew but still… I grew up following my Papaw around in the earliest hours of the morning to milk the cows. I grew up learning how to tell when the tomatoes were ripe enough to bring in to can for the winter. I grew up knowing what it’s like to get thrown in the dirt…over and over again.
Life is amazing. If you really REALLY break it down to a microscopic level-it is pretty freaking amazing. I believe in science-it’s my job-but I also believe in a mighty powerful God. I can’t look at how many variations of cellular structure there and think “gosh, I bet there was one tiny molecule that just happened to exist indefinitely and POOF here are gazillions of cell derivatives” . I would sound pretty ignorant wouldn’t I?
I see my God work every day in thousands of ways but I still find myself doubting him.
I had these huge dreams. Medical school. Kids. Horses. So many big things that now are only a fragment complete. I have an amazing husband and two screaming toddler terrors who are the most amazing little humans ever. I have a farm. I have animals. I have it all…but then I doubt Him.
I spend more time on my knees begging God to help me then I do walking. Maybe it’s because walking is ridiculously hard these days. You see, I’m not getting better-I’m getting worse. My disease really really stinks. I’ve been to the hospital six times in four months. I woke up yesterday with pitting edema in my legs (imagine 42 week preggo woman with cankles) and it took me TWO HOURS to even get dressed and feel halfway normal. My house is a disaster and let’s not even talk about baseboards…
I want to trot a horse into a showring again. I want to have energy to not cancel friend dates. I want to run with my kids outside. I want to feel like a wife to my husband.
My point in all of this late night rambling isn’t to ask for sympathy. I have cried more in self pity and anger than anyone else could do for me. Yes I want to educate-I want people to realize that I’m 28 and SICK. Not little sick but big sick. I want people to know that young people get sick too.
Perhaps my bigger point is- we are all sick in some way shape or form. We all have days where we absolutelly want to give up. Today was that day for me. The kids were crying because they saw a toy they lost like a year ago, my supervisor was mad at me because I forgot for like the tenth day to do something that I really should have done but my brain doesn’t remember things anymore, my Crohn’s was in full force and I can’t hold down anything and I clean one room to realize every other room looks like a crime scene . …it NEVER stops.
So what do I do…I cry ALOT. I pray ALOT. I get up, take a hot shower, get my planner out , read a book, write, watch greys anatomy 💁, the list goes on.
You have to rise. You can’t just dwell on all of the crappy cards you’ve been dealt. Things will change one day.
I know full well that my body will get worse. I get it. I may never show a horse under saddle again but I will be on the rail watch my kids show. I will go to PA school even if I’m 50 when I get in lol. I will continue sharing my story, and maybe, just maybe I can help save someone else and help them realize that in their darkest hour, God is there. When you feel no one and you are overwhelmed hit your knees and RISE. God will be there to help you stand.
The yearly candy fundraiser. The delectable, tasty, melt in your mouth chocolate that every school teacher sends home, with a smile, to the yoga pant clad mother. It is our first year selling candy and at first I was super excited to finally get a go at this whole “school mom” thing…then I got home…I got to my house, already exhausted, and I had two rambunctious toddlers bouncing off every wall of my too tiny home. I NEEDED ENERGY. I started looking for caffeine…there was not a single drop in my house (this is due to my husband clearing out my sodas while I was deployed to world equestrian games💁) and there were no sweets because I haven’t went shopping yet….but then my eyes fall on that very full box of fundraising chocolate … I refrained for an entire ten minutes…
In those ten minutes, Connor stripped naked and peed in the floor, Wesley got put in time out a gazillion times, one of the dogs peed in the floor, diaper got taken off AGAIN…I NEEDED chocolate.
I gave in…I have thoroughly enjoyed a caramel bar and a crispy bar…and LET ME TELL YOU…those 30 seconds of scarfing down a chocolate bar hiding behind the pantry door was the highlight of my day.
Now… I’m begging you…please buy a chocolate bar from me before I buy the entire box…
One very very very tired toddler mom
I’m just a Paramedic. I say it all the time. I don’t mean it to sound as derogatory towards my profession as it does….but it comes out that way. Maybe it’s because I always had my eye set on that white coat-I still do. Maybe it’s because I came into this field because God threw me into it and I had NO clue what on earth EMS was.
Today I finally got a chance to sit down and think about the history of today-September 11. Today I was able to reflect on what it means to be “just a Paramedic”.
Seventeen years ago, paramedics (among so many other public servants) checked off their truck and went to grab breakfast. They probably ran a few stubbed toe calls or maybe even a heart attack call. They cleared those calls and went to the station, propped their feet up, turned on the TV to drown out the day and started working on their call reports. Then the tones dropped. They probably perked up a little more because fire and supervisors were all dispatched…then structure support …then more higher ups…more agencies…then the dispatch came through: A plane has hit one of the twin towers. Their heart hit their stomach. They began to shake as their adrenaline spiked. Some may have had a third person riding along that they told to dig out the triage kit that they never use and get ready. They drove towards the smoke as people ran away. They grabbed their partner’s hand in a silent way to say be careful. They climbed the stairs. The towers crashed- they never came out.
Ten paramedics died. Many firemen were also EMTs or paramedics . I’m sure the count is higher but this is what my research gave.
I started my journey in 2011 as a EMT basic at Gaston Lifesaving Crew. I obtained my Associate degree in EMS as a Paramedic in 2014 and my Bachelors degree in 2017. I have seen many people take their last breath and I have seen many more get a second chance. I’ve seen things I wish, with all my heart, that I could unsee.
This weekend we are prepping for a potential category 5 hurricane to come directly our way. Destruction and devastation are guaranteed…we just don’t know to what degree . Ironically, on 9/11/2018-today…we sent out a group of EMTs and Paramedics to the coast to help care for those affected. Many of us will be working in our county this weekend no matter how severe the storm.
On this day-historically- and today (due to the storm) I have never been more proud to be “just a Paramedic” . I work with some of the most amazing and medically gifted people. I have learned more doing this job then I ever could going straight into med school or PA school. It has also taught me the meaning of selflessness.
“Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I. Send me!” Isaiah 6:8
Every morning I get greeted by this sweet sound. Don’t you just love it!
We have offficially had Pappy for a week now so I decided it was time that we have an actual lesson. This week we have spent a lot of time just exploring his personality and gainibg trust. He is by far the most loving and affectionate creature. He has never once offered to kick , bite or rear. He is pretty nonchalant about everything and doesn’t ever get excited -so I figured it was time for the next step.
Today he eagerly searched my pockets for carrots and lowered his big ole nose into his halter. As soon as the stall door opens he shakes his head and does a little halfhearted buck of excitement. Once out to the paddock area he gets rather annoyed at me when I dont turn him loose to graze.
I pick up my 15 year old carrot stick (parelli term for a hard stick with rope on end used like a lunge whip) and started rubbing him all over with it…he didnt even give me a sideways look so I pushed further by flapping it on the ground and swirling above his head like a helicopter- he snorted- went back to eating…guess he wasnt impressed.
I pushed him out into a circle and he reluctantly jogged two laps both ways before coming to center in search of more treats- hes a very food driven donkey…
I finish the lesson off by giving him a good brushing and picking up his front feet for 30 seconds each. This wasn’t his favorite thing but he tolerated it which is awesome. We will need to get him trimmed soon because his feet are absolutely awful. The vet said his toes were curled upward when he got him, like elf shoes. They trimmed him some when they gelded him so it is buying me time.
At this point I got a lesson in donkey . They are like cats, if their head fits, the rest will fit too…
Pappy decided it was breakfast time and he was over my shenanigans so he started trotting towards the gate…it was shut but not latched. He grabbed it with his teeth and OPENED IT. How smart is this creature? So the remaining 30 minutes involved me following him around our entire pasture all while he would wait for me to get within arms reach and he would nonchalantly walk a few steps out of reach…tell me that wasnt on purpose….
We finally agreed to be done and walked back to the barn together…one happy donkey and one out of breath, exhausted donkey trainer…
At the end of the day, who really trains who?
I would love to hear your training stories!
Eat, Bray, Love ❤