All is Calm, All is Bright

Like many nights before, there have been no fires, accidents or medical emergencies. We are driving in the engine merely to fill up on fuel. And as I look out on the brightly lit town that has been my home for more than two years now, I feel like I belong. I can hear my fellow firefighters poking fun at one another through the headsets we all wear, as some vaguely familiar pop song plays on the radio. I've felt this sense of camaraderie before, but it was always short-lived and usually in a war zone. Little did I know the kind of brotherhood I would be joining when I filled out the volunteer application a little over a year ago. Despite never wanting to live in this location, I am surprisingly happy to be right here, right now.

A Rough Night

It was a night of firsts for me, but not in a good way. I experienced things I would have preferred to never experience. Now, I realize that by volunteering to be a firefighter, I signed up to take the bad with the good and to do my best to help the people in my community as they experience these tragedies. First #1: I performed chest compressions on a patient who had gone into cardiac arrest. It was not the feel of her lifeless body beneath my hands, nor the expressionless look on her face - it was not even the nearby paramedics suctioning vomit from her mouth that bothered me. It was the fact that it felt like abuse. Who am I to pound on her chest and demand that she live? It seemed like it would have been more merciful to allow her to pass onto the next life in peace, rather than surrounded by the controlled chaos present in her room that evening. Of course, it is up to the patient to have a DNR in place if they do not want to be revived, so I guess that was what she wanted. It was an eye-opener for me, though. I now know that I want to have a DNR when that time comes.

My second first that night was a suicide. I've known people who later committed suicide, but I had never seen the body after the attempt was made. I didn't feel particularly emotional, but I kept thinking "how does a person get to the point where killing themselves seems like best course of action? or the ONLY course of action left?" I didn't really feel much for the person lying there in front of me, still warm, despite the cold temperature that night, but not breathing. My heart went out to the parents, who found their child in that state. Many parents wonder if they failed - it is most parents' worst fear. These parents didn't have to wonder. There is no second chances. No do-overs. Just regrets that they will live with for the rest of their lives (regardless of who was to blame). 

Some days I get to be a hero to a group of girl scouts, getting my picture taken with them and high-fiving. Other days I get to deal with death, up close and personal. In this field, as in many others, there are highs and lows, and everything in between. I am learning to take it all in stride.

The Latest Challenge

I've always thought of myself as pretty strong. I used to work out pretty regularly and I have always been active, even without a work-out routine in place. As with most women, my weakest point is the upper body, particularly shoulders and forearms. This is quickly becoming a problem for me, especially since I do not have the time I need to increase strength in these areas. In fire school, we have gotten to the section on ladders - taking ladders off of the rig, raising ladders up against buildings, and putting ladders back up on the rig. Each one of those things looks so easy when I watch other people do it, but it feels nearly impossible when I am doing it myself.  Thankfully, the proctors were not judging us on stylistic points. A little huffing and puffing and some finagling eventually got the ladder in place. Needless to say, I will be working out my shoulders and triceps a bit harder before the next test.

Just Another Day at the Firehouse

We had just gotten back to the station after eating breakfast at our regular weekend breakfast spot when we saw a car get pulled over. Most of us didn't think anything of it (the cops love to hang out around the fire station), but one of the firefighters decide it was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. He pulled up something on his phone and held it up to a landline in the station. Suddenly, we all heard it coming from the loudspeakers outside of the firehouse: "bad boys, bad boys, uh, whatcha gonna do? whatcha gonna do when they're comin' for you?" We all busted out, laughing. I am sure whoever was in the middle of getting a ticket did not find it nearly as hilarious, but I am guessing the cop got a chuckle out of it. What can I say? Firefighters are natural pranksters.

Confessions of a Claustrophobe

This is a story of a little girl who would freak when her sister climbed in behind her into a snow igloo (which she and her sister had built), because there was only one opening and with her sister in the opening, she felt trapped (never mind that she could have stood up at any point and broken through the roof of said igloo). Fast-forward 30 years. That little girl, now a grown woman, has never overcome that fear of tight spaces, but she wants to be a firefighter.

Last week's fire school classes made me face these fears to a degree that I have never had to before. After completing (and I use completing in the loosest possible way) the air consumption test, we had a bit of a break, and then it was onto the maze. I knew I was dreading it, but really didn't know exactly what it was I was dreading. It turned out to be so much worse than I had imagined.

So, let me back-track for a minute. The week leading up to the air consumption test was very stressful for me because I had a track record of freaking out when "on air."  I don't enjoy breathing air that comes out of a cylinder (yes, I SCUBA dive, and I realize there is a disconnect here, but what can I say? It's a woman's prerogative to be inexplicable).  I was not sure I would be able to go through the test without hyperventilating and then tearing off my mask in a mad frenzy. For several nights that week, I woke up multiple times to heart-racing panic attacks. I knew what was causing them, but I could not get my unreasonable fears under control.

I did make it through the consumption test without hyperventilating (very thankful for that). Every claustrophobe has their own way of dealing with the discomfort - singing, humming, thinking of something pleasant. For me, it's focusing entirely on the task at hand. The more concentration a task takes, the easier it is for me to "forget" that I am on air. Climbing the stairs is the worst because it takes almost no concentration. Conversely, raising the fly on the extension ladder is great because it takes ever ounce of my concentration.

A little later, staring into the low, narrow hallway that begins the maze, I froze. My heart was racing, my breathing was far from under control, and the terror of being accidently locked in my dark bedroom closet as a child returned with more force than I could have imagined. I could NOT make myself go any farther into that shipping container. Thankfully, one of the instructors had mercy on me and allowed me to take the mask off and go through it like that. There were still moments when I felt irrationally scared (usually when I got stuck), but I was able to continue on until I made it to the end and back out into the sunlight. I will have to do it again at some point - on air - but that is a fear to face another day.

Since then, I have had nightmares every night, and every night it's the same two nightmares. One is where I am in a coffin, buried alive. The other is right out of a WWII movie... I am escaping a POW camp through a small tunnel.. there are guys in front of me and guys behind and I am stuck in this tiny little tunnel. The panic attack that ensues wakes me before the dream is able to come to a natural end, and I am left lying there in bed, shaking with adrenaline coursing through my body, trying to calm myself and go back to sleep.

Now, you may be wondering why I continue down this path when it seems that this is NOT the hobby for me. But the truth is, this confined space rescue stuff is such a small part of fire fighting, and I LOVE the fire service. I have been a probationary fire fighter for approximately 9 months and count down the days between duty crew assignments. As this point, not making it through fire school would be the most depressing thing that could happen to me. I am determined to face down my fears and finish what I've started!

The Making of a Female Firefighter Pt. II

Fire School

In my county, fire school is offered twice a year for the volunteers - one class in the Spring and one in the Fall. I just started the Fall class a couple of weeks ago. There are 24 of us in the class; 21 men and 3 women. The academic side seems pretty easy. A lot of it is self-explanatory and only requires some common sense (and a cursory reading of the text book). The physical side, however, is a whole other story. This is where being a female has its disadvantages. I am not saying women can't do it. We absolutely can, but we have to work at some things a bit harder than our male counterparts. Men naturally have more upper body strength than women, which means I have a LOT of working out to do to try to catch up.

We went through the physical agility test, which is the test career firefighters have to do to even be eligible to apply for a job. On paper, it sounded like a piece of cake, but actually going through it was much harder than I was expecting. The fact that I hadn't had time to eat breakfast that morning because I was coming straight from duty crew probably did not help. I passed (if anyone was wondering), but not with the time I was hoping for.

The Physical Agility Test

Time to pass: 12 minutes

The participant wears a 50 lbs. vest throughout the test, along with a helmet and utility gloves.

1. Walk up and down three flights of stairs three times (or the equivalent of a nine story building) with an additional 25 lbs. attached to the weight vest, which are removed when you get to the top of the stairs on the third time up.

2. Pull a section of coiled hose (I was told it weighed approx. 40 lbs.) up to the third story, hand-over-hand; let it down the same way (descend the stairs for the last time).

3. Drag an unrolled large diameter hose across the length of the bay (approx. 25 yds.); kneel down and pull the hose to yourself until you get to the first coupling.

4. Pick up a 16' ladder, carry it across the bay (approx. 25 yds.) and lay it down.

5. Swing a sledge hammer over your head and strike a plank covered in fire hose 20 times.

6. Crawl through the maze (it's dark - impossible to see anything in there)

7. Pick up a 22 lbs."pike pole," extending arms fully up and then down 20 times

8. Drag a 165 lbs. dummy from its straps approx. 15 yds., around a barrel and back again.

All of that must be completed in under 12 minutes.

Onto the next obstacle: the air consumption test. If I pass it, I'll tell you all about it.  ;-)

The Making of a Female Firefighter

This is not a single post, encapsulating the story in its entirety. Rather, this is the first of many such posts to come. Today I will give you a short history of my journey into the fire service. In the coming weeks, I will describe fire school and its adventures as I encounter them. If all goes well, this story - the one that ends with my becoming a full-fledged firefighter - will conclude in February 2016.

The Dream

At age three, I announced to my Mom that I was going to be a fireman when I grew up. She smiled and said "they are called fireMEN for a reason." I remember being disappointed by the response, but not dissuaded. While growing up, I dreamed up MANY careers I wanted to pursue, but whenever I went with Mom to vote at the nearby fire station or on Christmas Eve when "Santa" would ride all over town on one of the Engines, shouting ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas!  I would look at the red gleaming apparatus and think, "I would love to be a firefighter."

The Reality

The years went by and I left for college. For the first time, I considered the viability of volunteering at the local fire dept. Overwhelmed with my studies and the responsibilities of being an RA on campus, I quickly dismissed the idea. After graduation, I moved to a new town and was preoccupied with the career I had chosen (or that had chosen me - that is a story for another day). Several years had passed by the time I heard an advertisement calling for volunteers to join the local fire dept. It got me thinking about it again, but I knew the timing wasn't right as I was planning for my second deployment. When I arrived back in the states, I heard another ad calling for volunteer firefighters, but I was living in a hotel and prepping for deployment number three. After that, I got married, moved a couple of times, and finally arrived at a stable point in my life (the most stable since I left home for college). My husband and I actually bought a house and I felt anchored to a place for the first time in my adult life. Within the week, I began googling volunteer fire departments in my county. I quickly learned there was one right down the street from our little townhouse. It took me several months to actually attend the information session they hold once a month, but when I did I went with completed paperwork in hand. I had decided I was going to do this.

The Process

I went to the County Sheriff's Office to get fingerprinted and then the waiting game began. I had no idea the process would be so slow (I realize it is different for every dept. and for each individual within those depts., but this was my experience). I waited from Halloween to New Year's before I heard anything back. I was accepted into the Company as a probationary member in January 2015. In February, I attended orientation classes. In March I took the required physical exam and was assigned to a crew. And that is when the fun started!

Now (The Probationary Period)

I have been with my crew for six months now. As a probationary firefighter, I play a supporting role, carrying tools, pulling hose, laying out traffic cones or flares - pretty much anything I can do to help the firefighters so that they can focus on the emergency at hand. I sleep at the firehouse one night per week, and wait for the calls to come in. Most nights are pretty quiet, but when the calls come in, the energy kicks into high gear. officers and the other firefighters have been teaching me everything I need to know to get through fire school.

Well, more on that at a future time. That is all for now. Till next time...

Je ne suis pas Charlie

Like many people, I didn't know anything of Charlie Hebdo prior to last week. I am sure I heard the name in passing, and probably saw some of their cartoon drawings at some point, but none of it was particularly memorable. After the terrorist attack on their office in Paris, I Googled their cartoons and was appalled by what I found. Anyone who knows me, can tell you that I am an incredibly sarcastic person. I like a good snarky comment, and have been known to enjoy an Onion or Duffle Blog article here and there. The Charlie Hebdo cartoons, however, were sacrilegious, offensive, and not at all amusing. Don't get me wrong - I am NOT condoning the terrorist attack. It is NEVER ok to kill someone because he is mocking you. And I do believe in freedom of speech. So, I do mourn with France in there loss - I mourn the deaths of their citizens. I mourn the loss of their innocence. Before now, they didn't know the enemy was within their borders, but now they do, and nothing can change that. September 11th did that to the US, allowing the average citizen to peek behind the curtain and see the darkness that some spend their lives hunting down. But unlike the millions of supporters with their Je suis Charlie signs, I am NOT Charlie. I do not agree with the things they publish, and hope to never treat the religion of another with such disrespect.