We had an action packed weekend here at Dorema Farm. Neil called me a slave driver! We made great progress on the chicken pen, the lambs are gone and their pens cleaned out. I couldn't restrain myself and bought 5 more fruit trees and got them planted. Also managed to get the asparagus crowns planted.
It was a cold dreary day today and I took an afternoon nap. Now, at 3:30 am, I can't sleep. I made the mistake of turning on the light here in the office and now the bantam roosters on the front porch are crowing like it is sunrise......
I woke up thinking about a tragic time for me....... Before we moved here, my family was very active in the volunteer fire department for our little town. Neil and Charlie were firefighters and I was an EMT. Something about waking up tonight was very much like responding to the pager going off in the night......... it was never a good thing. It was a startling, jarring wake up, knowing that it was usually VERY bad news and I dreaded hearing what the dispatcher had to relay....... because even though I was a volunteer, I HAD to go and felt a great responsibility.
One night we responded to a house with a young man who was unconscious. Being a small town, of course, we knew him. I suspected drugs or alcohol and he was a war vet with post traumatic stress....... Since we lived in the country another EMT was there before me and the young man had regained consciousness before I arrived .... The EMT was trying to get his blood pressure and I was talking to him when he suddenly just stopped breathing. I remember calling for the O2 and scrambling in my bag for the re-breathing mask........ we got him started again and he lived. Working on him that night really shook me because I could feel him dying in my hands. The ER doctor released him almost immediately. Next day, he refused to believe that it had really been that serious. Less than a week later, he was involved in a car wreck and I was the first on scene. He insisted that he was fine and was standing by the totalled car. I insisted that he let me check him out and while I ws looking in his eyes for signs of head trauma, he collapsed in my arms on the side of the road. I cannot tell you my dispair when he refused to go with the ambulance to the hospital. Almost 2 weeks later, while he was alone in another city, he passed out and stopped breathing again. He died......
He was only a few years older than my oldest son. I can't tell you how deeply this affected me.
Shortly afterwards, we began our move and I did not renew my EMT licence...... I guess this is my own vesion of post traumatic stress.
I am wondering if seeing all the disaster in Japan has stirred me up to this point. The utter helplessness of sitting here and watching it on TV or the computer.
I know it won't help and I have been faithfully dieting for 2 weeks and lost more than 10 lbs but..... I think I may need some milk and cookies tonight.
And to turn off the light so those darn roosters will go back to sleep!