The phone rings.
Dispatch tells us where to go, and the patient's complaint.
Sometimes, the flight is to my home town,
population.......less than 10,000.
I've been fortunate that I've never had to transport a close friend or family member, but I HAVE carried close acquaintances.
In flight, headed to my home hospital, I wonder what we'll encounter when we get there.
Some years ago, we were dispatched to my home hospital
to pick up a 7 year old boy that had "fallen down a flight of stairs".
Alarm Bells!
I shut the aircraft down and proceeded to the E.R. to check out the situation.
Outside the E.R. door were two clutches of people,
each containing 5-or-so folks.
One of the groups was Black,
the other White.
The tension was thick enough to slow your walking speed.
These folks weren't looking at one another.
Here's the story:
The White Mother of our patient was previously married to a Black man.
Our patient is the result of that marriage.
Now married to a White man, Grandparents and other members of the respective families constitute the two groups in the hallway outside the E.R..
A White man approaches me, obviously under a great deal of stress,
puts his index finger within a few inches of my nose
and says emphatically,
"That's my stepson you're flying. He's a REALLY special kid!
You take damn good care of him!"
Strange.......
Inappropriate.
My crew wheels the kid out........
he's that beautiful "coffee and cream" color of many mixed race kids,
with an innocent, almost pretty, face.
He's unconscious, bruised, with a terrible closed-head injury.
I followed up:
He lived a week.
StepDad was arrested an hour after accosting me.
Charged with murder after our patient's death,
tried,
convicted,
sentenced to 40 years in the Pen.
The Alarm Bells were justified.........
My gut said "GUILTY" when I suppressed the urge
to break off his finger and hand it to him!
22 September 2005
20 September 2005
Times Beach, Missouri, Volume II
Do you remember the story of Times Beach?
In a nutshell, the town was built on Old Route 66,on the bank of the Meramec River.
In a nutshell, the town was built on Old Route 66,on the bank of the Meramec River.
The Meramec flooded frequently.
I'm unsure of the exact date, but sometime in the late 70's the river overflowed it's banks and the residents were forced to evacuate their homes.
Residents were generally poor, and most didn't have flood insurance,
so there was a great clamor for the Federal Government to help people rebuild their homes and lives.
And the U.S. Government responded and spent the $$$$$.
Now, the residents of Times Beach were logical people, right?
They got the help rebuilding their homes.
But they STILL lived alongside a river that flooded frequently.
So to make sure they were never in that predicament again,
they took EVERY action possible to avoid a recurrence,
to include buying flood insurance, right?
Wrong, Bunky!
In 1982, the river rose again, and once again forced people out of their homes.
And again, there was a great cry for Federal help.
My thought was, how can these people expect the U.S. taxpayer to pull their stones outta the fire this second time?
But this time, there was a twist.........
In the early 70's, residents had hired a waste oil hauler to spray oil
on their roads to control dust.
This DIRTBAG had taken a contract to dispose of waste oil that contained high levels of Dioxin.
And where did he dispose of the Dioxin-tainted oil?
Oh, Bunky, you are quick!
Times Beach.
Now, Times Beach residents didn't need to say,
"we were flooded out again, help us".
Instead the clamor was: "we have poisons all around our homes.......help us!"
And the U.S. taxpayer responded again, buying out homes of people that didn't have the sense to buy flood insurance,
although they lived alongside the oft-flooding Meramec!
You see where I'm headed with this, right?
Flooding.......toxic waste..........flooding again.
Katrina delivered a powerful punch to New Orleans,
and now Rita may be on the way.
And what about next hurricane season, and the next.............and the next?
Is New Orleans STILL under sea level?
Yes, Bunky, I believe it is!
If we spend BILLIONS and BILLIONS and BILLIONS rebuilding and detoxing
New Orleans over the next years,
will New Orleans be under water again in the future?
Am I truly on a rant here?
Right on both counts, Bunk!
There WILL be common-sense talk about using the BILLIONS to build the city somewhere else, and allow the Mississippi to reclaim New Orleans.
Folks that take this stance will be called racists,
and worse.
I have NO DOUBT we will spend the BILLIONS this time.
But it will happen again,
just like Times Beach.
And then..........better decision making may prevail.
IN$ANE!
19 September 2005
Pirate Pitchpull!
In honor of "National Talk Like a Pirate Day",
I bring your attention to
This
When you click on my "Pirate Pitchpull" blogroll,
you find they have done it with ALL the links!
Questions:
Who?
Why?
How much work did that take?
"Unusual Attitude", Me beauties!
Shiver Me Timbers!
I bring your attention to
When you click on my "Pirate Pitchpull" blogroll,
you find they have done it with ALL the links!
Questions:
Who?
Why?
How much work did that take?
"Unusual Attitude", Me beauties!
Shiver Me Timbers!
18 September 2005
A Problem With Gas
Over at Aviatrix's blog,
Cockpit Conversation she asked why they didn't publish "maximum endurance" figures on cars the way they do for flying machines.
With gasoline being sold at $3 per gallon and higher, it's a valid question.
I posted a comment in answer to her question which I will share with you, along with some further thoughts on transportation costs today.
I used to be a "member" at National Public Radio and Public TV.
I quit contributing to NPR when they became a broadcast arm of one of our political parties, but I freeload by continuing to listen to some of my favorite programs.
As an auto enthusiast, I enjoy "Click and Clack, The Tappet Brothers".
Some time back the boys discussed the point at which a car will get the best gas mileage. This happens when the engine is turning at the slowest RPM in it's top road gear..........4th gear in a 4 speed transmission. At this point you are using the least fuel to cover the most distance. Go faster, and you incur higher wind resistance, (drag), and mileage will decrease.
This speed is easy to discover in a car with an automatic transmission......accelerate slowly and watch the tachometer (or just listen) for the transmission to make that last shift, and note the speed.
With a manual transmission you need to consider the slowest speed your car will go without bogging the engine down.
Tire pressures are also an important factor. Higher pressures mean lower rolling resistance and better mileage, but also mean a sacrifice in ride quality.......the car will ride rougher.
I've been experimenting with our car on the way to work. My trip is 35 miles, with a small town about midway where I have to make 3 stops at stop signs.
I found that our 4300 pound car with automatic transmission shifts into top (4th) gear at 40 miles per hour when I am accelerating gently.
I also found that if I tried to drive at that speed, when I encountered a hill along the way, the tranny would downshift to third to climb the hill, therefore less miles per gallon.
Adding 5 m.p.h. to the speed.........45......... precluded this from happening.
I reset the onboard computer as I drove away from home.
When I got to work, the computer indicated 32.8 miles per gallon!
Not bad for a 4300 pound car with a 253 horsepower, 3.5 liter V-6!
Of course, driving at 45 m.p.h. needs to be factored into my plans for making it to work on time, but at $3.00 per gallon, I have the incentive to take the extra time!
An electric car would be an attractive option. I could recharge at home, then plug in at work and recharge for the drive home.
There are cars that can range out as far as 35-40 miles at 50 miles per hour, so that wouldn't be a problem.
But the kits for these automobiles run about $7,000, and for that money I can buy a lot of gas, even at $3 per gallon!
I've also been looking at Diesels. They get better mileage than a comparable gasoline auto, and the old complaints about them.....noise, vibration, and smell........are less and less a factor with the newer vehicles.
But I found an interesting thing: you can run them on vegetable oil!
Many penny pinchers are now going to restaurants and offering them a win/win situation: Let me have your old deep frying oil, and instead of having to pay to have it hauled off, I'll do it for free!
But as usual, there is a catch here too:
Diesel engines won't start on the vegetable oil.
The solution is to have two fuel systems on your vehicle.
Start the engine on Diesel, then switch to the vegetable oil system.
BUT, you must remember to switch back to the Diesel system before shutting the engine down in order to be able to start the engine the next time!
Vegetable oil conversions can be purchased for less than $1,000, if you decide you'd like to cut back on costs this way.
Another viable alternative is Natural gas/Propane.
Any gasoline fueled car can be converted to burn Natural gas or Propane. Adjustments need to be made to the fuel injection and engine control computer, and the fuel storage system needs to be adapted to your individual vehicle.
Costs will vary depending on how much your vehicle needs to be modified, but the cost of using Natural gas/Propane instead of gasoline at $3 per would make the changeover worthwhile in a very short time!
Gas prices are headed back down as I write this, thank goodness!
But fuel costs are now on everyone's mind, and I suspect we'll see a change in attitude when people go to buy a new car/truck in the future.
As for me, until I'm ready to buy my next new car, I'll be driving to work at 45 miles per hour!
With gasoline being sold at $3 per gallon and higher, it's a valid question.
I posted a comment in answer to her question which I will share with you, along with some further thoughts on transportation costs today.
I used to be a "member" at National Public Radio and Public TV.
I quit contributing to NPR when they became a broadcast arm of one of our political parties, but I freeload by continuing to listen to some of my favorite programs.
As an auto enthusiast, I enjoy "Click and Clack, The Tappet Brothers".
Some time back the boys discussed the point at which a car will get the best gas mileage. This happens when the engine is turning at the slowest RPM in it's top road gear..........4th gear in a 4 speed transmission. At this point you are using the least fuel to cover the most distance. Go faster, and you incur higher wind resistance, (drag), and mileage will decrease.
This speed is easy to discover in a car with an automatic transmission......accelerate slowly and watch the tachometer (or just listen) for the transmission to make that last shift, and note the speed.
With a manual transmission you need to consider the slowest speed your car will go without bogging the engine down.
Tire pressures are also an important factor. Higher pressures mean lower rolling resistance and better mileage, but also mean a sacrifice in ride quality.......the car will ride rougher.
I've been experimenting with our car on the way to work. My trip is 35 miles, with a small town about midway where I have to make 3 stops at stop signs.
I found that our 4300 pound car with automatic transmission shifts into top (4th) gear at 40 miles per hour when I am accelerating gently.
I also found that if I tried to drive at that speed, when I encountered a hill along the way, the tranny would downshift to third to climb the hill, therefore less miles per gallon.
Adding 5 m.p.h. to the speed.........45......... precluded this from happening.
I reset the onboard computer as I drove away from home.
When I got to work, the computer indicated 32.8 miles per gallon!
Not bad for a 4300 pound car with a 253 horsepower, 3.5 liter V-6!
Of course, driving at 45 m.p.h. needs to be factored into my plans for making it to work on time, but at $3.00 per gallon, I have the incentive to take the extra time!
An electric car would be an attractive option. I could recharge at home, then plug in at work and recharge for the drive home.
There are cars that can range out as far as 35-40 miles at 50 miles per hour, so that wouldn't be a problem.
But the kits for these automobiles run about $7,000, and for that money I can buy a lot of gas, even at $3 per gallon!
I've also been looking at Diesels. They get better mileage than a comparable gasoline auto, and the old complaints about them.....noise, vibration, and smell........are less and less a factor with the newer vehicles.
But I found an interesting thing: you can run them on vegetable oil!
Many penny pinchers are now going to restaurants and offering them a win/win situation: Let me have your old deep frying oil, and instead of having to pay to have it hauled off, I'll do it for free!
But as usual, there is a catch here too:
Diesel engines won't start on the vegetable oil.
The solution is to have two fuel systems on your vehicle.
Start the engine on Diesel, then switch to the vegetable oil system.
BUT, you must remember to switch back to the Diesel system before shutting the engine down in order to be able to start the engine the next time!
Vegetable oil conversions can be purchased for less than $1,000, if you decide you'd like to cut back on costs this way.
Another viable alternative is Natural gas/Propane.
Any gasoline fueled car can be converted to burn Natural gas or Propane. Adjustments need to be made to the fuel injection and engine control computer, and the fuel storage system needs to be adapted to your individual vehicle.
Costs will vary depending on how much your vehicle needs to be modified, but the cost of using Natural gas/Propane instead of gasoline at $3 per would make the changeover worthwhile in a very short time!
Gas prices are headed back down as I write this, thank goodness!
But fuel costs are now on everyone's mind, and I suspect we'll see a change in attitude when people go to buy a new car/truck in the future.
As for me, until I'm ready to buy my next new car, I'll be driving to work at 45 miles per hour!
13 September 2005
Creatures of Habit
One of my paramedics and I were having a discussion the other day. He is working toward becoming an RN, and we were discussing a class he was taking on aging and senility.
He discussed the fact that more and more, we are learning that
"use it or lose it" is really true.....
People that do active things with their minds like reading, solving puzzles, going to museums, conversing with interesting acquaintances..........
maintain their mental acuity longer than "couch potatoes".
(Eat your heart out, Dan Quayle!)
We then got into a discussion about what creatures of habit we are, and how slight changes in our routines may help us to stay mentally sharp longer.
One of the suggestions he studied was that changing simple things, like the route you take to drive to work or home, would establish new nerve pathways and would stimulate your brain in ways that would help it stay healthy.
Any area of your life that requires you to do routine things........
tie your shoes, make coffee, write notes, etc...........
if you make minor changes in the way you pursue the task, will help to stimulate your brain and help keep it healthy longer.
(Can you write with your weak hand?)
This evening I put our discussion into action:
I noticed that when I take a shower, I do EXACTLY the same things each time! I am right-handed, so this evening I decided I would use my left hand to bathe myself, with the exception, of course, of things that are impossible to do with my left hand, like washing my left arm!
Try it yourself!
What an alien feeling, trying to use my left hand to make the wash cloth go into tiny areas of my right ear, or between my toes!
And the immediate relaxation when I returned to the comfort zone, using my right hand to wash my left arm!
Seems silly, doesn't it?
Well, you'll be surprised when you have a go at it!
But I'm surprised and enlightened by this experiment, and I'm gonna try to put little changes into my life everywhere I can!
So, readers..........all THREE of you!.........I challenge you:
Make little changes in your life too, and when you are surprised, pleased, or confused by something, share it with the rest of us!
P.S.
When I published my last three posts, I was thrilled to immediately get a comment!
When I read the comments though, they said something like,
"Your blog rocks! If others share their ideas like this, the world will certainly be a better place!"
Neat.
But then the next line..........
"come check out my blog, www.comevacationinHaiti.com"
Computer generated Spam!
So if you try to comment, you'll notice I have installed a verification process to try to eliminate spammers.
I'm sorry to make it more difficult, but I don't want my site taken over by mindless comments.
He discussed the fact that more and more, we are learning that
"use it or lose it" is really true.....
People that do active things with their minds like reading, solving puzzles, going to museums, conversing with interesting acquaintances..........
maintain their mental acuity longer than "couch potatoes".
(Eat your heart out, Dan Quayle!)
We then got into a discussion about what creatures of habit we are, and how slight changes in our routines may help us to stay mentally sharp longer.
One of the suggestions he studied was that changing simple things, like the route you take to drive to work or home, would establish new nerve pathways and would stimulate your brain in ways that would help it stay healthy.
Any area of your life that requires you to do routine things........
tie your shoes, make coffee, write notes, etc...........
if you make minor changes in the way you pursue the task, will help to stimulate your brain and help keep it healthy longer.
(Can you write with your weak hand?)
This evening I put our discussion into action:
I noticed that when I take a shower, I do EXACTLY the same things each time! I am right-handed, so this evening I decided I would use my left hand to bathe myself, with the exception, of course, of things that are impossible to do with my left hand, like washing my left arm!
Try it yourself!
What an alien feeling, trying to use my left hand to make the wash cloth go into tiny areas of my right ear, or between my toes!
And the immediate relaxation when I returned to the comfort zone, using my right hand to wash my left arm!
Seems silly, doesn't it?
Well, you'll be surprised when you have a go at it!
But I'm surprised and enlightened by this experiment, and I'm gonna try to put little changes into my life everywhere I can!
So, readers..........all THREE of you!.........I challenge you:
Make little changes in your life too, and when you are surprised, pleased, or confused by something, share it with the rest of us!
P.S.
When I published my last three posts, I was thrilled to immediately get a comment!
When I read the comments though, they said something like,
"Your blog rocks! If others share their ideas like this, the world will certainly be a better place!"
Neat.
But then the next line..........
"come check out my blog, www.comevacationinHaiti.com"
Computer generated Spam!
So if you try to comment, you'll notice I have installed a verification process to try to eliminate spammers.
I'm sorry to make it more difficult, but I don't want my site taken over by mindless comments.
11 September 2005
Where is the Rewind Button?
In an earlier post, titled "When Chihuahua's Attack!" I wrote:
Little Bubba has this same spirit. He thinks he is the meanest Mutha around, and a great hunter to boot! Rabbits easily outdistance him. Squirrels enjoy it when he gives chase, and then they turn and taunt him from halfway up the tree! When he is on one of these "quests" he is a blockhead with selective hearing... he may as well be deaf! Forget thinking you have any control over him! Of course, I've grown quite fond of having "blockhead" around... can't imagine coming home and not having him meet us ecstatically!
Friday was a beautiful day... 85 degrees, cloudless. I was puttering around, tending to honey-do's. I had replaced the thermostat on my work car... was satisfied I had the problem licked, and was in the process of putting my tools away.
Little Bubba was supervising, in addition to insuring the ferocious squirrels didn't try to come too close to me while I was working.
He was doing a great job!
One last squirrel tried to approach, and Lil' Bubba went after him. The squirrel went up, then twice around the Cottonwood, then hit the ground about 5 feet in front of Lil' Bubba. They both made a headlong run at top speed toward the road, just as the first car in 20 minutes headed Eastbound on our street. The squirrel escaped in front of the car, and I watched in hope that the car was going fast enough to clear the road before Little Bubba crossed. But he was too fast, and ran full speed into the front wheel.
I saw him thrown 3 feet in the air like a rag doll, then lie motionless, perfectly parallel to the road, on the gravel alongside our yard. He quivered a little, but there was "nobody home" in his eyes.
Mercifully, neck completely broken... He was gone.
A three year old Red Dachshund, in perfect health... slender...
a beautiful specimen.
Gone.
I'm devastated.
No sleep the first night, and for two days now, I've been lookin' for life's "rewind" button, to go back to 5 minutes before the incident and take Little Bubba in my arms.
At safety briefings while I was in the Army, they frequently showed us a chart which had the stressors of life listed. Each of the stressors had a numerical value, and Commanders and safety officers were supposed to keep an eye on their Aviators for cumulative stress in their lives. At the top of the chart was "Loss of Spouse or Child", and let's say that value was 10.
Divorce was up there too, with a value of 9 or so.
Loss of employment was high, as was serious illness and financial complications.
Managers were to use the chart as a guide... if total stresses exceeded a certain value, and it would have been in the neighborhood of 9-10, an Aviator could be grounded until his personal situation was more under control.
Loss of a beloved pet should also be high on that list. It is Sunday night as I type here, and I am starting my work shift. I'm still easily reduced to a blubbering, incoherent blob when I think about no "Little Bubba" to greet me when I get home in the morning! If I had been scheduled to work on Friday or Saturday night, I would have called in "sick".
I think I am now at the point where being at work will be therapeutic... being away from home with a task to pursue will help me to get back to a routine.
But at home... I hear sounds like his bark, I see his little head at the door, begging to come in after he has been out to "take care of business"... when I sit down I expect him to assume his normal position on my lap.
Sara Jean has not been able to force herself to clean his nose prints off our front door.
How does anyone survive the loss of a child, or a wife/husband of 60 years?
Little Bubba, (Frankie) was a bigger part of our life than we could have realized...
It's gonna take a while to recover, folks.
Little Bubba has this same spirit. He thinks he is the meanest Mutha around, and a great hunter to boot! Rabbits easily outdistance him. Squirrels enjoy it when he gives chase, and then they turn and taunt him from halfway up the tree! When he is on one of these "quests" he is a blockhead with selective hearing... he may as well be deaf! Forget thinking you have any control over him! Of course, I've grown quite fond of having "blockhead" around... can't imagine coming home and not having him meet us ecstatically!
Friday was a beautiful day... 85 degrees, cloudless. I was puttering around, tending to honey-do's. I had replaced the thermostat on my work car... was satisfied I had the problem licked, and was in the process of putting my tools away.
Little Bubba was supervising, in addition to insuring the ferocious squirrels didn't try to come too close to me while I was working.
He was doing a great job!
One last squirrel tried to approach, and Lil' Bubba went after him. The squirrel went up, then twice around the Cottonwood, then hit the ground about 5 feet in front of Lil' Bubba. They both made a headlong run at top speed toward the road, just as the first car in 20 minutes headed Eastbound on our street. The squirrel escaped in front of the car, and I watched in hope that the car was going fast enough to clear the road before Little Bubba crossed. But he was too fast, and ran full speed into the front wheel.
I saw him thrown 3 feet in the air like a rag doll, then lie motionless, perfectly parallel to the road, on the gravel alongside our yard. He quivered a little, but there was "nobody home" in his eyes.
Mercifully, neck completely broken... He was gone.
A three year old Red Dachshund, in perfect health... slender...
a beautiful specimen.
Gone.
I'm devastated.
No sleep the first night, and for two days now, I've been lookin' for life's "rewind" button, to go back to 5 minutes before the incident and take Little Bubba in my arms.
At safety briefings while I was in the Army, they frequently showed us a chart which had the stressors of life listed. Each of the stressors had a numerical value, and Commanders and safety officers were supposed to keep an eye on their Aviators for cumulative stress in their lives. At the top of the chart was "Loss of Spouse or Child", and let's say that value was 10.
Divorce was up there too, with a value of 9 or so.
Loss of employment was high, as was serious illness and financial complications.
Managers were to use the chart as a guide... if total stresses exceeded a certain value, and it would have been in the neighborhood of 9-10, an Aviator could be grounded until his personal situation was more under control.
Loss of a beloved pet should also be high on that list. It is Sunday night as I type here, and I am starting my work shift. I'm still easily reduced to a blubbering, incoherent blob when I think about no "Little Bubba" to greet me when I get home in the morning! If I had been scheduled to work on Friday or Saturday night, I would have called in "sick".
I think I am now at the point where being at work will be therapeutic... being away from home with a task to pursue will help me to get back to a routine.
But at home... I hear sounds like his bark, I see his little head at the door, begging to come in after he has been out to "take care of business"... when I sit down I expect him to assume his normal position on my lap.
Sara Jean has not been able to force herself to clean his nose prints off our front door.
How does anyone survive the loss of a child, or a wife/husband of 60 years?
Little Bubba, (Frankie) was a bigger part of our life than we could have realized...
It's gonna take a while to recover, folks.
08 September 2005
Idiot Chimp Hitler Bush!
It has been fascinating to watch/hear/read the New York Times, CNN, NPR, and the rest of the "Major Media Sources" trying their hardest to pin the brunt of the Hurricane Katrina failures on the President!
(He is not without fault, but his mistakes have been relatively minor.)
And I have an insiders knowledge of how all this vomit is gonna eventually blow back in their faces!
Let me explain.
You may remember in an earlier post, my story of first being a dogcatcher and ending up being the Assistant Coordinator of the County Health Dept. after the County Executive decided he wanted to save me from becoming an alcoholic?
Well there is more to that story:
Part of the reason he wanted me aboard was that in 1975 a mutual friend, working as a Deputy Sheriff, had bought two surplus Bell 47 helicopters for the County from the U.S. Government. By bringing me aboard as a County employee he could Deputize me, and I could also fly for the Sheriff's Department.
But going through the process of buying the helicopters, ($1.00 each at the time.....how many would you like?), he found that his Civil Defense Director was failing in his job.
My friend the County Executive was apparently impressed with my performance as the Chief Dogcatcher, and came one day with another offer:
"I need someone to take over the job of Director of Civil Defense. The present Director was supposed to have written the County's Emergency Operations Plan a year ago, and he hasn't even gotten started on it."
The Director of what is now called "Emergency Management" in the County was an older man, and writing the "E.O.P.", an all-encompassing document, was simply more than he wanted to tackle!
I felt an obligation to show my thanks for my Co. Exec. friend, so I took the job and started writing the emergency plan immediately.
And boy, is it inclusive!
Our county was bordered by two MAJOR rivers, so interestingly, flooding was our most important threat to cover, but there were other considerations..........tornados, major fires, and of course, at the time, the nuclear threat from the U.S.S.R..
To make a long story short, from that experience I knew where the ball had been dropped when I saw how many folks remained behind in New Orleans, and the fact that they were stuck there, starving and thirsty after the wind and rain had stopped and the water started to rise.
Have you seen the pictures of the Municipal and School buses underwater in New Orleans?
Have you heard the excuse the Mayor is giving as to why he didn't use them to get his population to safety?
(He didn't want them traveling in such Spartan accomodations.........he had asked Greyhound to send buses to move his constituents!)
This is criminal!
And please watch as this unfolds.........watch to see who continues to dig themselves a hole, even though they have reached bottom.
Senator Landrieu continues to dig..........she is in HUGE political trouble, as is the Mayor and the Governor, (and I'm ashamed to have to call Ms. Blanco that!)
As another buddy would say........."watch out for the assplosion"!
It's gonna be interesting!
(He is not without fault, but his mistakes have been relatively minor.)
And I have an insiders knowledge of how all this vomit is gonna eventually blow back in their faces!
Let me explain.
You may remember in an earlier post, my story of first being a dogcatcher and ending up being the Assistant Coordinator of the County Health Dept. after the County Executive decided he wanted to save me from becoming an alcoholic?
Well there is more to that story:
Part of the reason he wanted me aboard was that in 1975 a mutual friend, working as a Deputy Sheriff, had bought two surplus Bell 47 helicopters for the County from the U.S. Government. By bringing me aboard as a County employee he could Deputize me, and I could also fly for the Sheriff's Department.
But going through the process of buying the helicopters, ($1.00 each at the time.....how many would you like?), he found that his Civil Defense Director was failing in his job.
My friend the County Executive was apparently impressed with my performance as the Chief Dogcatcher, and came one day with another offer:
"I need someone to take over the job of Director of Civil Defense. The present Director was supposed to have written the County's Emergency Operations Plan a year ago, and he hasn't even gotten started on it."
The Director of what is now called "Emergency Management" in the County was an older man, and writing the "E.O.P.", an all-encompassing document, was simply more than he wanted to tackle!
I felt an obligation to show my thanks for my Co. Exec. friend, so I took the job and started writing the emergency plan immediately.
And boy, is it inclusive!
Our county was bordered by two MAJOR rivers, so interestingly, flooding was our most important threat to cover, but there were other considerations..........tornados, major fires, and of course, at the time, the nuclear threat from the U.S.S.R..
To make a long story short, from that experience I knew where the ball had been dropped when I saw how many folks remained behind in New Orleans, and the fact that they were stuck there, starving and thirsty after the wind and rain had stopped and the water started to rise.
Have you seen the pictures of the Municipal and School buses underwater in New Orleans?
Have you heard the excuse the Mayor is giving as to why he didn't use them to get his population to safety?
(He didn't want them traveling in such Spartan accomodations.........he had asked Greyhound to send buses to move his constituents!)
This is criminal!
And please watch as this unfolds.........watch to see who continues to dig themselves a hole, even though they have reached bottom.
Senator Landrieu continues to dig..........she is in HUGE political trouble, as is the Mayor and the Governor, (and I'm ashamed to have to call Ms. Blanco that!)
As another buddy would say........."watch out for the assplosion"!
It's gonna be interesting!
02 September 2005
Fable
I am a Christian, but not from the "Taliban" wing of the Church.
But a fable told by Christians is timely today, I think:
A terrible storm is coming.
Emergency personnel go out in Loudspeaker trucks to warn residents to evacuate.
Tyrone Jacobus says, "The Lord will take care of me."
The rain comes down in bucketloads, and a 4-wheel drive stops at Tyrone's door to offer escape.
Tyrone says, "The Lord will protect me."
Floods overtake Tyrone's house and in desperation he climbs to the roof. A helicopter hovers over his head, but Tyrone refuses help, saying, "The Lord will provide for me."
The water continues to rise, and Tyrone is swept away and drowns.
At the gates of heaven, Tyrone asks the gatekeeper, "Why didn't the Lord save me?"
The gatekeeper replies......."we sent warning trucks, a 4X4 vehicle, and a helicopter to save you. What more could the Lord do?"
The day Katrina hit New Orleans, Fox News' Shepherd Smith asked a guy drinking at a bar in downtown New Orleans why he was still in town.
The guy replied, "None of your F*****G business!"
I'd love to ask this Tyrone.........is it our business now?
But a fable told by Christians is timely today, I think:
A terrible storm is coming.
Emergency personnel go out in Loudspeaker trucks to warn residents to evacuate.
Tyrone Jacobus says, "The Lord will take care of me."
The rain comes down in bucketloads, and a 4-wheel drive stops at Tyrone's door to offer escape.
Tyrone says, "The Lord will protect me."
Floods overtake Tyrone's house and in desperation he climbs to the roof. A helicopter hovers over his head, but Tyrone refuses help, saying, "The Lord will provide for me."
The water continues to rise, and Tyrone is swept away and drowns.
At the gates of heaven, Tyrone asks the gatekeeper, "Why didn't the Lord save me?"
The gatekeeper replies......."we sent warning trucks, a 4X4 vehicle, and a helicopter to save you. What more could the Lord do?"
The day Katrina hit New Orleans, Fox News' Shepherd Smith asked a guy drinking at a bar in downtown New Orleans why he was still in town.
The guy replied, "None of your F*****G business!"
I'd love to ask this Tyrone.........is it our business now?
Three For Three
December, 1968
Pleiku, Viet Nam
I was happily settled into a semblance of a routine life with the 4th Infantry Division at Camp Enari, Viet Nam. Division managers began looking at the way aviators had been added to the Division and noticed that almost 20 percent of the Division's Aviator strength had been added in November of '68. This meant there would be an unacceptable loss of expertise in October of '69. The only way to resolve the problem was to "infuse" some aviators to other Divisions and bring in new replacements.
I got picked to move.
I received orders to go to the "Americal Division" at Chu Lai.
Although I hate to move, my new assignment was a blessing. My new housing overlooked the South China Sea. The unit had a deficiency of gunship pilots and welcomed me with open arms.
After going through the normal checkouts to insure I was qualified and current, I started flying missions.
One morning I was scheduled to fly with "Granddaddy" Jim Elrod.
Granddaddy was a CW4, the highest ranking Warrant Officer in the Army at the time. He was 52, our unit's oldest aviator, and had a daughter older than me.
Granddaddy liked me. When we met in operations to be briefed for the mission, Granddaddy asked if I would like to fly "right seat".........the command seat in the UH-1C gunship.......and my first chance to shoot rockets!
I jumped at the chance!
Our mission was a routine reconnaissance........OH-6 "little bird" flyin' REAL low........checking things out, with Granddaddy and I following close behind, just a little higher in altitude, to provide the little bird some protection.
We'd been searching an area with big rocks.........similar to what we used to see in Cowboy movies.......for about 15 minutes when the little bird called out........"RECEIVING FIRE!"
I pointed the nose of the Huey toward him, lined up my "infinity" rocket sight at the area he was fleeing, and pushed the rocket firing button twice.
WHOOSH, WHOOSH......two rockets with 10 pound high-explosive warheads were on their way to a rocky outcropping.
Then the world exploded. I had no sense of a big bang, but I felt a rush and had an instant of pain in my face. I was confused.
For just a moment, I was not in control of the aircraft.
I turned to Granddaddy and keyed the intercom...........said, "What the Hell was that?" But the intercom made no sound.
I tried again........"Can you hear me?" He shook his head........"NO."
Regaining my senses, I looked back to control the aircraft and saw that my infinity sight reticle was gone. Beyond that, there was a 30 calibre hole in my windshield! Granddaddy reached over and grabbed my helmet cord and held it up........shot in half!
The round had come through the windshield, through my rocket sight, then missed my face by six inches when it cut my helmet cord in two. Plexiglass from the windshield and glass from the rocket sight had blasted my face and eyes. My face was covered with tiny pinpricks of blood, and my eyes began to sting and tear.
We aborted the mission and called in another gun team.
Back at base, the Flight Surgeon spent 45 minutes picking slivers of glass and plexiglass out of my eyes and face.
In two days I was good as new.
Two months later, at a battalion awards ceremony, I received the Purple Heart.
When I see guys without arms and legs wearing the same award I received, I wonder if I should have gotten it.
But imagine my mental attitude.........
Crashed in October and destroyed the aircraft when the governor failed.
In November the "lift link" failed......a potentially fatal mechanical condition we found after almost deciding the aircraft was flyable.
And now this incident in January.
Three incidents that threatened my life........
There were 8 months left in my Viet Nam tour. I really wondered what was in store for me just around the corner!
Pleiku, Viet Nam
I was happily settled into a semblance of a routine life with the 4th Infantry Division at Camp Enari, Viet Nam. Division managers began looking at the way aviators had been added to the Division and noticed that almost 20 percent of the Division's Aviator strength had been added in November of '68. This meant there would be an unacceptable loss of expertise in October of '69. The only way to resolve the problem was to "infuse" some aviators to other Divisions and bring in new replacements.
I got picked to move.
I received orders to go to the "Americal Division" at Chu Lai.
Although I hate to move, my new assignment was a blessing. My new housing overlooked the South China Sea. The unit had a deficiency of gunship pilots and welcomed me with open arms.
After going through the normal checkouts to insure I was qualified and current, I started flying missions.
One morning I was scheduled to fly with "Granddaddy" Jim Elrod.
Granddaddy was a CW4, the highest ranking Warrant Officer in the Army at the time. He was 52, our unit's oldest aviator, and had a daughter older than me.
Granddaddy liked me. When we met in operations to be briefed for the mission, Granddaddy asked if I would like to fly "right seat".........the command seat in the UH-1C gunship.......and my first chance to shoot rockets!
I jumped at the chance!
Our mission was a routine reconnaissance........OH-6 "little bird" flyin' REAL low........checking things out, with Granddaddy and I following close behind, just a little higher in altitude, to provide the little bird some protection.
We'd been searching an area with big rocks.........similar to what we used to see in Cowboy movies.......for about 15 minutes when the little bird called out........"RECEIVING FIRE!"
I pointed the nose of the Huey toward him, lined up my "infinity" rocket sight at the area he was fleeing, and pushed the rocket firing button twice.
WHOOSH, WHOOSH......two rockets with 10 pound high-explosive warheads were on their way to a rocky outcropping.
Then the world exploded. I had no sense of a big bang, but I felt a rush and had an instant of pain in my face. I was confused.
For just a moment, I was not in control of the aircraft.
I turned to Granddaddy and keyed the intercom...........said, "What the Hell was that?" But the intercom made no sound.
I tried again........"Can you hear me?" He shook his head........"NO."
Regaining my senses, I looked back to control the aircraft and saw that my infinity sight reticle was gone. Beyond that, there was a 30 calibre hole in my windshield! Granddaddy reached over and grabbed my helmet cord and held it up........shot in half!
The round had come through the windshield, through my rocket sight, then missed my face by six inches when it cut my helmet cord in two. Plexiglass from the windshield and glass from the rocket sight had blasted my face and eyes. My face was covered with tiny pinpricks of blood, and my eyes began to sting and tear.
We aborted the mission and called in another gun team.
Back at base, the Flight Surgeon spent 45 minutes picking slivers of glass and plexiglass out of my eyes and face.
In two days I was good as new.
Two months later, at a battalion awards ceremony, I received the Purple Heart.
When I see guys without arms and legs wearing the same award I received, I wonder if I should have gotten it.
But imagine my mental attitude.........
Crashed in October and destroyed the aircraft when the governor failed.
In November the "lift link" failed......a potentially fatal mechanical condition we found after almost deciding the aircraft was flyable.
And now this incident in January.
Three incidents that threatened my life........
There were 8 months left in my Viet Nam tour. I really wondered what was in store for me just around the corner!
01 September 2005
Kids Love My Balls
Oh my! Sorry about the title, but you ARE interested, aren't you?
The Fair is in town.
10 days of carnival, horse racing, car racing, cattle showing, and judges trying to figure out if Aunt Violette's persimmon pudding is the best of the batch!
Our little town of 7000 gets invaded by the mob with all the "Dead Presidents" to spread around. It's a wonderful time!
A couple weeks ago I received a call from the public relations director of a company that owns 6 radio stations in the midwest. "Can we hire you to come to the Fair and drop Ping-Pong balls?"
It's a job I've never done, but how much skill can be involved here?
Fly over an open field while adults hold hordes of kids back..........dump out 200-or-so ping-pong balls at the proper altitude and location, right?
And that's pretty much it. The radio people had bought the balls in four colors......white, orange, pink, and lime green. Then they had added their own symbols with a magic marker. Kids were to wait until we flew over, and my new passenger/assistant, the lovely Kristin, dumped the balls. When given the okay, they could scramble to pick up the balls to redeem for prizes available at stalls corresponding to color/symbol at the opposite side of the field.
They divided the kids up into age groups: 4-7, 8-10, and 11-12. Prizes were pretty much what kids would be interested in.........toys for the really young ones, and more substantial stuff for the older kids. Not suprisingly, this radio group gave away some really nice radios to the older kids!
We turned and watched the scramble after we had made the drop. On my first pass, our altitude was too low and the balls ended up in a pretty tight area....the 4-7 year olds were on top of one another searching for the treasure!
The next two drops were better.......from 50 or so feet higher, and with the help of a 5 knot wind, the load got spread out over an area large enough that the kids weren't scrapping for the same ball.
Les Nessman and WKRP would have been proud!
All in all, a fun job, and a great promotion for the radio stations!
Helicopter flying.........something different every day!
The Fair is in town.
10 days of carnival, horse racing, car racing, cattle showing, and judges trying to figure out if Aunt Violette's persimmon pudding is the best of the batch!
Our little town of 7000 gets invaded by the mob with all the "Dead Presidents" to spread around. It's a wonderful time!
A couple weeks ago I received a call from the public relations director of a company that owns 6 radio stations in the midwest. "Can we hire you to come to the Fair and drop Ping-Pong balls?"
It's a job I've never done, but how much skill can be involved here?
Fly over an open field while adults hold hordes of kids back..........dump out 200-or-so ping-pong balls at the proper altitude and location, right?
And that's pretty much it. The radio people had bought the balls in four colors......white, orange, pink, and lime green. Then they had added their own symbols with a magic marker. Kids were to wait until we flew over, and my new passenger/assistant, the lovely Kristin, dumped the balls. When given the okay, they could scramble to pick up the balls to redeem for prizes available at stalls corresponding to color/symbol at the opposite side of the field.
They divided the kids up into age groups: 4-7, 8-10, and 11-12. Prizes were pretty much what kids would be interested in.........toys for the really young ones, and more substantial stuff for the older kids. Not suprisingly, this radio group gave away some really nice radios to the older kids!
We turned and watched the scramble after we had made the drop. On my first pass, our altitude was too low and the balls ended up in a pretty tight area....the 4-7 year olds were on top of one another searching for the treasure!
The next two drops were better.......from 50 or so feet higher, and with the help of a 5 knot wind, the load got spread out over an area large enough that the kids weren't scrapping for the same ball.
Les Nessman and WKRP would have been proud!
All in all, a fun job, and a great promotion for the radio stations!
Helicopter flying.........something different every day!
30 August 2005
Offering My Services
I am hereby offering my services to anyone that might need them.
New Orleans is filling with water. They will need helicopters and pilots there to evacuate thousands of people.
I'll be watching media and trade outlets to see if I can volunteer to help anywhere. If any readers hear of an organization looking for help I can provide, please leave a comment with that information!
GB
New Orleans is filling with water. They will need helicopters and pilots there to evacuate thousands of people.
I'll be watching media and trade outlets to see if I can volunteer to help anywhere. If any readers hear of an organization looking for help I can provide, please leave a comment with that information!
GB
29 August 2005
Katrina and the Wave
Like many of you, I've been watching reports of Hurricane Katrina and her effect on New Orleans.
Watching these reporters stand out in wind strong enough to almost take them off their feet has become a real source of amusement.
How long before we see, on live TV, a 300 year old Live Oak tree fall on one of them?
I'm sorry, but when it happens, like the big foot mashing the guy at the end of the title credits to "Monty Python's Flying Circus", I may have the perverse urge to laugh out loud!
Watching these reporters stand out in wind strong enough to almost take them off their feet has become a real source of amusement.
How long before we see, on live TV, a 300 year old Live Oak tree fall on one of them?
I'm sorry, but when it happens, like the big foot mashing the guy at the end of the title credits to "Monty Python's Flying Circus", I may have the perverse urge to laugh out loud!
23 August 2005
Another Kind of Pollution
I want to discuss energy usage and light pollution with you.
It's not uncommon for my wife to come home after sundown and find me sitting in a dark house watching TV, or reading a magazine under the only illuminated lamp in the house. It drives her crazy!
"Why is this house SO DARK?" she'll exclaim, as she begins to turn on every light she passes.
It's a divide between us that will never be closed. She was raised in Chicago in bad neighborhoods and is afraid of the dark. I was raised in a rural area where we never locked our doors, and if there was a street light in the community, I cannot remember it.
(Help me Trojans.......do you remember any?)
What I can remember is camping out in the backyard, lying on my back, looking at the sky filled with so many stars that it looked as if someone had crushed glass from horizon to horizon.
Go outside tonight and if it's clear, try to see stars. These days, you'll be lucky if you can see even the brightest of them! Ambient light pollutes our atmosphere and prevents starlight from reaching our eyes.
But I have gotten off the path I intended to take with this rant.
It's normal for me to come home, even in the day, and find every light in the house burning. Since my requests that my wife pay the electricity bill were rejected, it obviously gives me acid reflux to see this much waste.........and don't even think about trying to take the high road by reminding her that energy is in short supply and such waste is immoral.........she doesn't care.
In June our air conditioner broke down. I made some inroads during this 90+ degree weather by pointing out that the incandescent lights produce a lot of heat, and that turning them off helps to keep the house cooler. But when the A/C was fixed we slowly returned to our old "illuminated" ways.
Sara Jean wants to call our utility and have them install a street light in front our house. When I tell her I won't pay for it, she insists she'll pay for that herself!
If and when that happens, she won't have to listen to my complaints about the house lights anymore.........
I'll be moving to a place in the country where I can camp out in the back yard and look up and see a carpet of stars!
It's not uncommon for my wife to come home after sundown and find me sitting in a dark house watching TV, or reading a magazine under the only illuminated lamp in the house. It drives her crazy!
"Why is this house SO DARK?" she'll exclaim, as she begins to turn on every light she passes.
It's a divide between us that will never be closed. She was raised in Chicago in bad neighborhoods and is afraid of the dark. I was raised in a rural area where we never locked our doors, and if there was a street light in the community, I cannot remember it.
(Help me Trojans.......do you remember any?)
What I can remember is camping out in the backyard, lying on my back, looking at the sky filled with so many stars that it looked as if someone had crushed glass from horizon to horizon.
Go outside tonight and if it's clear, try to see stars. These days, you'll be lucky if you can see even the brightest of them! Ambient light pollutes our atmosphere and prevents starlight from reaching our eyes.
But I have gotten off the path I intended to take with this rant.
It's normal for me to come home, even in the day, and find every light in the house burning. Since my requests that my wife pay the electricity bill were rejected, it obviously gives me acid reflux to see this much waste.........and don't even think about trying to take the high road by reminding her that energy is in short supply and such waste is immoral.........she doesn't care.
In June our air conditioner broke down. I made some inroads during this 90+ degree weather by pointing out that the incandescent lights produce a lot of heat, and that turning them off helps to keep the house cooler. But when the A/C was fixed we slowly returned to our old "illuminated" ways.
Sara Jean wants to call our utility and have them install a street light in front our house. When I tell her I won't pay for it, she insists she'll pay for that herself!
If and when that happens, she won't have to listen to my complaints about the house lights anymore.........
I'll be moving to a place in the country where I can camp out in the back yard and look up and see a carpet of stars!
16 August 2005
I've Been Mistaken
For the last couple years I've had regular correspondence with a female relative.
She is of the "Bush lied, people died" persuasion.
No sense going into how "Bush Lied"......that leads to a dead end, even for her, because all parties were deceived by our "faulty" intelligence about WMD's going into the war.
I originally thought SEVENTEEN U.N. RESOLUTIONS were more than enough justification for liberating Iraq.
But my correspondent has inadvertently opened my eyes to how the world could be improved if we would just cease our belligerent ways in Iraq and bring our soldiers home!
The world could then begin to move down the path of righteousness provided by the guidance of our Islamic brethren:
Stupid women like my relative would have to think twice about corresponding with superior thinking men like me!
Women would no longer be in the workplace, therefore freeing up jobs for men that need to provide food for their families.
The abortion problem would go away in an instant.........women that get pregnant outside marriage will be stoned to death. (Stones not too big as to kill too quickly, and not too small as to be ineffective!)
And Cindy Sheehan? HA!
She'll be first in line for stoning!
Why has it taken so long for me to see the error in my thinking?
It's obvious that most of the problems of the world would go away if we would just get out of Iraq and take up the tenets of "Shari'a" law!
So come on men! Take up the banner and join in........it's the resolution to most of our problems!
Out of Iraq!
No more aggression against our Muslim Brothers!
Support Iran in their quest for nuclear power!
March to the Mosque! A perfect world is just around the corner!
And Hillary for President?
Obviously impossible!
What a vision!
UPDATE,17AUG:
On re-reading, seems like a pretty harsh tone, and I considered deleting.
Then I decided I'd leave the post as written.
I believe Jane Fonda and John Kerry assisted in killing our troops in Viet Nam.
Cindy Sheehan and her like are killing our troops in Iraq. What a shame.....a woman in such pain is causing more mothers to suffer the same pain.
But most of these idiots that are supporting the "Freedom Fighters" in Iraq do so simply because of their extreme hate for George Bush!
If you are an insurgent in Baghdad, you well know our history: we have no guts for war.
All you have to do is bloody our nose often enough, and we'll soon pack our bags and run for home. We won't finish the job.
But this is truly a situation where we need to be careful what we wish for......
And it is EXTRAORDINARILY important for the rights of women of the world!
She is of the "Bush lied, people died" persuasion.
No sense going into how "Bush Lied"......that leads to a dead end, even for her, because all parties were deceived by our "faulty" intelligence about WMD's going into the war.
I originally thought SEVENTEEN U.N. RESOLUTIONS were more than enough justification for liberating Iraq.
But my correspondent has inadvertently opened my eyes to how the world could be improved if we would just cease our belligerent ways in Iraq and bring our soldiers home!
The world could then begin to move down the path of righteousness provided by the guidance of our Islamic brethren:
Stupid women like my relative would have to think twice about corresponding with superior thinking men like me!
Women would no longer be in the workplace, therefore freeing up jobs for men that need to provide food for their families.
The abortion problem would go away in an instant.........women that get pregnant outside marriage will be stoned to death. (Stones not too big as to kill too quickly, and not too small as to be ineffective!)
And Cindy Sheehan? HA!
She'll be first in line for stoning!
Why has it taken so long for me to see the error in my thinking?
It's obvious that most of the problems of the world would go away if we would just get out of Iraq and take up the tenets of "Shari'a" law!
So come on men! Take up the banner and join in........it's the resolution to most of our problems!
Out of Iraq!
No more aggression against our Muslim Brothers!
Support Iran in their quest for nuclear power!
March to the Mosque! A perfect world is just around the corner!
And Hillary for President?
Obviously impossible!
What a vision!
UPDATE,17AUG:
On re-reading, seems like a pretty harsh tone, and I considered deleting.
Then I decided I'd leave the post as written.
I believe Jane Fonda and John Kerry assisted in killing our troops in Viet Nam.
Cindy Sheehan and her like are killing our troops in Iraq. What a shame.....a woman in such pain is causing more mothers to suffer the same pain.
But most of these idiots that are supporting the "Freedom Fighters" in Iraq do so simply because of their extreme hate for George Bush!
If you are an insurgent in Baghdad, you well know our history: we have no guts for war.
All you have to do is bloody our nose often enough, and we'll soon pack our bags and run for home. We won't finish the job.
But this is truly a situation where we need to be careful what we wish for......
And it is EXTRAORDINARILY important for the rights of women of the world!
12 August 2005
PFYSB
Another scene flight last night.........this one right at dusk.
A 16 year old female lost control of her car after dropping a wheel in a ditch, then rolled several times. She was ejected from the automobile, and in the process of being ejected, her left arm was de-gloved from the elbow to her wrist.
She also had a compound fracture of her left femur.
De-gloving means the skin on her left forearm was pulled from the muscle.
An interesting looking wound!
It takes a huge amount of force to break the femur!
That her femur was broken means her body was subjected to forces you and I don't even want to think about!
Considerable blood loss can accompany this injury, and of course, shock.
Now the question:
IF, she had her seatbelt fastened, how was she ejected from her car?
And the answer?
Come on now everybody..........all at once!
She DIDN'T have her belt fastened!
My title......PFYSB.......comes from a jingle that used to be played on public service ads. If you have heard them, you'll remember the music that went along with the words:
"P.F.Y.S.B.,............please fasten your seat belt...........Thank you!"
I'm continually amazed that folks don't use their seat belts today.
The most serious injuries we see in automobile accidents happen to people that are not wearing their seat belts.
Folks, you could do serious damage to the cash flow of all EMS businesses by doing these three things:
1. Fasten your seat belt.
2. Don't drive after drinking.
3. Don't smoke.
Knowing human nature, I think my job is secure for the foreseeable future.
Don't you?
A 16 year old female lost control of her car after dropping a wheel in a ditch, then rolled several times. She was ejected from the automobile, and in the process of being ejected, her left arm was de-gloved from the elbow to her wrist.
She also had a compound fracture of her left femur.
De-gloving means the skin on her left forearm was pulled from the muscle.
An interesting looking wound!
It takes a huge amount of force to break the femur!
That her femur was broken means her body was subjected to forces you and I don't even want to think about!
Considerable blood loss can accompany this injury, and of course, shock.
Now the question:
IF, she had her seatbelt fastened, how was she ejected from her car?
And the answer?
Come on now everybody..........all at once!
She DIDN'T have her belt fastened!
My title......PFYSB.......comes from a jingle that used to be played on public service ads. If you have heard them, you'll remember the music that went along with the words:
"P.F.Y.S.B.,............please fasten your seat belt...........Thank you!"
I'm continually amazed that folks don't use their seat belts today.
The most serious injuries we see in automobile accidents happen to people that are not wearing their seat belts.
Folks, you could do serious damage to the cash flow of all EMS businesses by doing these three things:
1. Fasten your seat belt.
2. Don't drive after drinking.
3. Don't smoke.
Knowing human nature, I think my job is secure for the foreseeable future.
Don't you?
11 August 2005
A Suggestion
For some reason, when I check on "Pitchpull" on some computers, the sidebar containing Links, Archives, and my profile show up all the way at the bottom of the page.
I hope you are checking in on some of the other Blogs I recommend there........especially today.
Go to:
www.varifrank.com and read "The Call".
I will wish forever that I could put my thoughts on paper like that!
I hope you are checking in on some of the other Blogs I recommend there........especially today.
Go to:
www.varifrank.com and read "The Call".
I will wish forever that I could put my thoughts on paper like that!
10 August 2005
Judge Roberts.....the more you know........
Incontrovertible evidence he's not right for the job:
The Roberts kids are no strangers to controversy. Jack Roberts, a confirmed bachelor who enjoys dancing and thinks girls are "yucky", has the I.Q. of a four year-old boy and a rap sheet a mile long. In 2003, Jack was reprimanded by a superior court judge for vandalizing the walls of a private residence with Crayola crayons. Last summer, he stole several indigenous amphibians from a natural wetland, a crime against nature for which he has yet to be held accountable. His childlike demeanor and bizarre behavior have frustrated reporters for weeks. When pressed for details on his father's opinions concerning Roe V. Wade, it's not unusual for Jack to burst into giggles and spin around in circles until he falls down.
If Jack Roberts seems to revel in media attention, then his sister, Jane, shuns it. Living a life shrouded in mystery, Jane was rumored to be dating Tom Cruise - but it's widely suspected that the girl with the pageboy haircut "plays for the other team", if you know what I mean. While John Edwards has yet to officially acknowledge her as a lesbian, Jane is rarely seen without another woman at her side. Her dowdy style of dress and lack of frequent abortions have raised more than a few eyebrows. And like brother Jack, her mental instability is a thing of record. Prone to sudden emotional outburts and crying fits over trivialities, Jane is often seen talking to small plastic replicas of human babies, and her addiction to paste has been the talk of the tabloids.
The entire expose' is here:
http://blamebush.typepad.com
Warning: Don't drink liquids while reading, lest they find an alternate route out your nostrils!
The Roberts kids are no strangers to controversy. Jack Roberts, a confirmed bachelor who enjoys dancing and thinks girls are "yucky", has the I.Q. of a four year-old boy and a rap sheet a mile long. In 2003, Jack was reprimanded by a superior court judge for vandalizing the walls of a private residence with Crayola crayons. Last summer, he stole several indigenous amphibians from a natural wetland, a crime against nature for which he has yet to be held accountable. His childlike demeanor and bizarre behavior have frustrated reporters for weeks. When pressed for details on his father's opinions concerning Roe V. Wade, it's not unusual for Jack to burst into giggles and spin around in circles until he falls down.
If Jack Roberts seems to revel in media attention, then his sister, Jane, shuns it. Living a life shrouded in mystery, Jane was rumored to be dating Tom Cruise - but it's widely suspected that the girl with the pageboy haircut "plays for the other team", if you know what I mean. While John Edwards has yet to officially acknowledge her as a lesbian, Jane is rarely seen without another woman at her side. Her dowdy style of dress and lack of frequent abortions have raised more than a few eyebrows. And like brother Jack, her mental instability is a thing of record. Prone to sudden emotional outburts and crying fits over trivialities, Jane is often seen talking to small plastic replicas of human babies, and her addiction to paste has been the talk of the tabloids.
The entire expose' is here:
http://blamebush.typepad.com
Warning: Don't drink liquids while reading, lest they find an alternate route out your nostrils!
09 August 2005
I Support Nuclear Power
But that needs some explanation...
My father worked for a power company for forty years.
One of the most contentious discussions we ever had was about nuclear power.
Before he retired, he was a strong supporter of what he thought was a "safe, clean," power supply.
He was surprised when I mentioned the amount of time nuclear waste would be hazardous to life.
Got any idea?
I listened to a nuclear power proponent on a talk radio show once, and called in to ask him how long the waste would be lethal.
He artfully avoided answering the question better than Jimmy Carter being asked about the "misery index" when he was running for re-election!
Truth is, the waste will be hazardous to humans for something like 250,000 years.
That bears re-stating:
A QUARTER OF A MILLION YEARS!!
It presents a problem for moralists that will be in charge of nuclear waste sites in the future:
The history of mankind spans what, 75,000 years?
Written history covers a fraction of that...
How do we fashion a sign that will warn people of the future that they need to avoid these areas, when they may not speak anything that resembles English?
(One of the better suggestions was a sign with a skeleton, supine on the ground, with wavy lines emanating from the ground to signify a deadly problem there.)
When Dad retired, after studying the issue, he did a 180 degree turn on his support for nuclear power.
But here's how we can all say we support nuclear power:
Solar, wind, and other "clean" power sources are all driven by the sun... a HUGE nuclear fusion reactor!
The costs of energy, to include gasoline, and the environmental costs of burning fossil fuels like coal, are approaching a threshold that will make using alternative resources more economically feasible.
Let's pressure our elected Representatives to start paying more attention to conservation, and nuclear power...
FUSION...
provided by the sun!
My father worked for a power company for forty years.
One of the most contentious discussions we ever had was about nuclear power.
Before he retired, he was a strong supporter of what he thought was a "safe, clean," power supply.
He was surprised when I mentioned the amount of time nuclear waste would be hazardous to life.
Got any idea?
I listened to a nuclear power proponent on a talk radio show once, and called in to ask him how long the waste would be lethal.
He artfully avoided answering the question better than Jimmy Carter being asked about the "misery index" when he was running for re-election!
Truth is, the waste will be hazardous to humans for something like 250,000 years.
That bears re-stating:
A QUARTER OF A MILLION YEARS!!
It presents a problem for moralists that will be in charge of nuclear waste sites in the future:
The history of mankind spans what, 75,000 years?
Written history covers a fraction of that...
How do we fashion a sign that will warn people of the future that they need to avoid these areas, when they may not speak anything that resembles English?
(One of the better suggestions was a sign with a skeleton, supine on the ground, with wavy lines emanating from the ground to signify a deadly problem there.)
When Dad retired, after studying the issue, he did a 180 degree turn on his support for nuclear power.
But here's how we can all say we support nuclear power:
Solar, wind, and other "clean" power sources are all driven by the sun... a HUGE nuclear fusion reactor!
The costs of energy, to include gasoline, and the environmental costs of burning fossil fuels like coal, are approaching a threshold that will make using alternative resources more economically feasible.
Let's pressure our elected Representatives to start paying more attention to conservation, and nuclear power...
FUSION...
provided by the sun!
07 August 2005
The Blink of An Eye
If you've been reading a while, you know I love my job.
When we are called out, I am one of the most important people in the world to the people that need my services.
Time can be more valuable than gold..........
The call came in a little after 4 A.M. on a Saturday morning.
We were dispatched on a 5 minute flight to the scene of an accident: car Vs. fuel tanker.
The car was a Station Wagon. The driver was a man with his entire family on board.........wife and 8 kids. The family was on its' way to spend the day fishing with extended family at a lake located about 3 hours away.
Papa had apparently fallen asleep and didn't see the red light and the 5000 gallon tanker in the intersection. He had driven under the tanker, and before the truck driver could bring his rig to a stop, the rear wheels of the tanker had climbed the car and had Papa trapped inside. The accident ripped a hole in the tanker, and it was leaking kerosene all over the scene, including Papa.
By chance, the scene was adjacent to a company that sold steel in huge, heavy rolls, and they had a large forklift available. As we took off, our dispatch called and said the folks on the scene were asking if we wanted the forklift operator to lift the tanker off the car. My nurse vetoed that idea.....she wanted to assess the situation to insure they didn't do further harm to the patient.
I landed in the center of six lanes of highway, about 150' from the collision, the smell of kerosene so heavy in the early morning air it burned my eyes. Flight Nurse and Paramedic gathered their gear and quickly moved to the scene while I secured the controls and got out to make sure passersby didn't walk into the tail rotor of the Bell LongRanger we were flying at the time.
My Flight Nurse stepped over fishing gear spread all over the highway and climbed into the car with Papa as the other scene workers tried to redirect a stream of kerosene away from her so she could start an Intraveinous line on him.
The weight of the tanker had collapsed the firewall and dashboard of the car on our patient.
15 minutes on the scene and he was extricated. He was crushed from his waist to his upper thighs.
We loaded him and took off on the 5 minute flight to the Trauma Center. My crew had their hands full, so I made the call to the hospital to give them our ETA and a quick overview of what we were bringing them.
I landed and assisted taking the patient out of the helicopter.
As they wheeled him to the elevator they left behind a solid trail of blood.
Then I looked at the helicopter...........
Along the left side of the aircraft we had a new, 2-inch red stripe starting at the lower right corner of the litter door, arcing up the rear of the fuselage, then horizontally along the tail cone and through the tail rotor! All this in just 5 minutes flight time!
Blood is corrosive.........I found a hose and rinsed off as much of it as I could.
We then went back twice to the hospital closest to the accident scene to pick up kids that had been ejected from the car.
And although Papa was taken directly to the Operating Room from the helipad, his injuries and blood loss were too great.........he didn't make it.
The kids were seriously injured, but survived.
I've said this before and I'll say this again many times:
Life can be short. Don't sweat the small stuff!
When we are called out, I am one of the most important people in the world to the people that need my services.
Time can be more valuable than gold..........
The call came in a little after 4 A.M. on a Saturday morning.
We were dispatched on a 5 minute flight to the scene of an accident: car Vs. fuel tanker.
The car was a Station Wagon. The driver was a man with his entire family on board.........wife and 8 kids. The family was on its' way to spend the day fishing with extended family at a lake located about 3 hours away.
Papa had apparently fallen asleep and didn't see the red light and the 5000 gallon tanker in the intersection. He had driven under the tanker, and before the truck driver could bring his rig to a stop, the rear wheels of the tanker had climbed the car and had Papa trapped inside. The accident ripped a hole in the tanker, and it was leaking kerosene all over the scene, including Papa.
By chance, the scene was adjacent to a company that sold steel in huge, heavy rolls, and they had a large forklift available. As we took off, our dispatch called and said the folks on the scene were asking if we wanted the forklift operator to lift the tanker off the car. My nurse vetoed that idea.....she wanted to assess the situation to insure they didn't do further harm to the patient.
I landed in the center of six lanes of highway, about 150' from the collision, the smell of kerosene so heavy in the early morning air it burned my eyes. Flight Nurse and Paramedic gathered their gear and quickly moved to the scene while I secured the controls and got out to make sure passersby didn't walk into the tail rotor of the Bell LongRanger we were flying at the time.
My Flight Nurse stepped over fishing gear spread all over the highway and climbed into the car with Papa as the other scene workers tried to redirect a stream of kerosene away from her so she could start an Intraveinous line on him.
The weight of the tanker had collapsed the firewall and dashboard of the car on our patient.
15 minutes on the scene and he was extricated. He was crushed from his waist to his upper thighs.
We loaded him and took off on the 5 minute flight to the Trauma Center. My crew had their hands full, so I made the call to the hospital to give them our ETA and a quick overview of what we were bringing them.
I landed and assisted taking the patient out of the helicopter.
As they wheeled him to the elevator they left behind a solid trail of blood.
Then I looked at the helicopter...........
Along the left side of the aircraft we had a new, 2-inch red stripe starting at the lower right corner of the litter door, arcing up the rear of the fuselage, then horizontally along the tail cone and through the tail rotor! All this in just 5 minutes flight time!
Blood is corrosive.........I found a hose and rinsed off as much of it as I could.
We then went back twice to the hospital closest to the accident scene to pick up kids that had been ejected from the car.
And although Papa was taken directly to the Operating Room from the helipad, his injuries and blood loss were too great.........he didn't make it.
The kids were seriously injured, but survived.
I've said this before and I'll say this again many times:
Life can be short. Don't sweat the small stuff!
03 August 2005
Now That's Corn!
When we think about the helicopter, we generally think of it as a transportation device.
People, parts, mail, etc., are all moved by helicopters.
I'll blog about the different things I've done and have heard done in helicopters sometime in the future.
A few days ago I did something that was a first for me:
Pollinating Corn!
And the only thing I had to move with the helicopter?
Air!
Here's the idea:
I was flying for a company that produces and sells seed to farmers. They were developing new hybrid seeds to sell to their customers.
To do this, they plant the female "receiver" corn in rows of four, and then plant a row of the "male" corn. When the plants grow tassels, the "female" receivers have their tassels removed. This is a labor-intensive process........done by hand by migrant workers.
So here's the picture: in the center of nine rows of corn, you have a row of plants with tassels........four rows of de-tasselled females on either side of the male row with tassels intact.
My task was to hover over the male plants and shake the pollen from the tassels onto the silks of the female plants.
We had to wait until the morning dew had dried from the plants. Dew drops preclude the pollen from sticking to the silks that extend from the end of each ear. Each individual silk is attached to the ear of corn, and if it receives a grain of pollen, will grow a corn kernel. If the silk doesn't receive a pollen grain, no kernel will form.
We were told if we did our job properly, we could increase the number of kernels formed, and therefore the total bushel-per-acre yield of the fields, by up to 30%!
Well worth the cost of the helicopter!
By the time the dew was dried, the ambient temperature was 94 degrees F. Wind was straight out of the South at 8 knots.
The wind made the temperature more bearable, but was problematic for doing the work because most of the rows were planted North-South, making the turn at the South end of the fields a downwind turn.
We found that if I flew over the "male" row just on the flying side of translational lift.....about 15 knots.......literally dragging my skids through the tassels, I was shaking all the female plants on either side of the males.
This meant those females were all getting a solid dose of pollen from the center row.
Corn fields in this area are large.......some have 7-800 acres of corn. Rows can be more than a mile long! At the speed I was traveling, moving from the start of a row to the end seemed to take forever!
Full of fuel, the downwind turn was treachery......carelessly done, the machine could easily settle into the 6 feet tall corn, downwind, and cause who-knows-what kind of damage to the tail rotor and the machine in general!
We wanted to avoid this even if it meant losing money on the job!
At the end of the day we had flown over 683 acres.
It took 6.9 hours to do this work, so we averaged pretty close to 100 acres per hour.
Terry N. was faithful as always with fuel truck and cold refreshments.
Terry just got his commercial helo license. We are trying to bring him aboard slowly with different aspects of commercial work.
So he could learn the work, he flew about 2 hours of the 6.9 hours over the corn.
I flew 4.9 hours over the corn, and 2.8 roundtrip to the worksite, for a total in my logbook of 7.7 hours for the day!
7.7 hours at 100 degrees, doing work this stressful, equals an old helicopter pilot that has to be removed from the helicopter at the end of the day with a spatula!
People, parts, mail, etc., are all moved by helicopters.
I'll blog about the different things I've done and have heard done in helicopters sometime in the future.
A few days ago I did something that was a first for me:
Pollinating Corn!
And the only thing I had to move with the helicopter?
Air!
Here's the idea:
I was flying for a company that produces and sells seed to farmers. They were developing new hybrid seeds to sell to their customers.
To do this, they plant the female "receiver" corn in rows of four, and then plant a row of the "male" corn. When the plants grow tassels, the "female" receivers have their tassels removed. This is a labor-intensive process........done by hand by migrant workers.
So here's the picture: in the center of nine rows of corn, you have a row of plants with tassels........four rows of de-tasselled females on either side of the male row with tassels intact.
My task was to hover over the male plants and shake the pollen from the tassels onto the silks of the female plants.
We had to wait until the morning dew had dried from the plants. Dew drops preclude the pollen from sticking to the silks that extend from the end of each ear. Each individual silk is attached to the ear of corn, and if it receives a grain of pollen, will grow a corn kernel. If the silk doesn't receive a pollen grain, no kernel will form.
We were told if we did our job properly, we could increase the number of kernels formed, and therefore the total bushel-per-acre yield of the fields, by up to 30%!
Well worth the cost of the helicopter!
By the time the dew was dried, the ambient temperature was 94 degrees F. Wind was straight out of the South at 8 knots.
The wind made the temperature more bearable, but was problematic for doing the work because most of the rows were planted North-South, making the turn at the South end of the fields a downwind turn.
We found that if I flew over the "male" row just on the flying side of translational lift.....about 15 knots.......literally dragging my skids through the tassels, I was shaking all the female plants on either side of the males.
This meant those females were all getting a solid dose of pollen from the center row.
Corn fields in this area are large.......some have 7-800 acres of corn. Rows can be more than a mile long! At the speed I was traveling, moving from the start of a row to the end seemed to take forever!
Full of fuel, the downwind turn was treachery......carelessly done, the machine could easily settle into the 6 feet tall corn, downwind, and cause who-knows-what kind of damage to the tail rotor and the machine in general!
We wanted to avoid this even if it meant losing money on the job!
At the end of the day we had flown over 683 acres.
It took 6.9 hours to do this work, so we averaged pretty close to 100 acres per hour.
Terry N. was faithful as always with fuel truck and cold refreshments.
Terry just got his commercial helo license. We are trying to bring him aboard slowly with different aspects of commercial work.
So he could learn the work, he flew about 2 hours of the 6.9 hours over the corn.
I flew 4.9 hours over the corn, and 2.8 roundtrip to the worksite, for a total in my logbook of 7.7 hours for the day!
7.7 hours at 100 degrees, doing work this stressful, equals an old helicopter pilot that has to be removed from the helicopter at the end of the day with a spatula!
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