When the black dog barks, there is nothing to do but use the telephone to call for help.

 

What happens to people who can't do just that? Do they fall through the cracks? Don't they matter?

 

I can't just pickup the phone and "reach out and touch someone". Unfortunately, this means that there is simply nothing outside my door but the black dog.

I've had the black dog on my heels all day. I saw him this morning, peering at me through the slats in the fence. Casually, arrogantly, the black dog walks through the gate (I swore I closed it tight), and sits at my door. Panting. Waiting. He is patience. He is the Sword of Damocles. He is my fourth horseman.

 

I am conviced the dog smiles at my foolishness when I peer through my curtains at him. His smile is all-knowing, all seeing. Do dogs laugh? I'm sure this one laughs at me. I can feel him, just as he feels me.

 

I can't seem to shake him. At the moment I feel an odd symbiosis with the dog. He is as much a part of me as my liver, my heart beats in time with his. His pulse quickens when he catches sight of me, and my own responds. As much as I loathe the black dog, he is my dog.

 

Every time I turn around, he is there waiting for me. I can see the saliva running from his jowls, I can see his sides heave as he breathes, I can feel his breath on the back of my neck, I can smell the foulness he tries to breathe into me.

 

He is succeeding. I am breathing him in. I don't like it, but I don't have the strength to fight him today. I don't know how to placate him today. I know full well what he wants - the dog and I have danced this dance before.

It's an offensive tango - we dance closely - too closely for my liking, but not close enough for his. I feel him pulling me closer, and as much as I don't want to, I dance the dance with the black dog. I bare my neck to the black dog.

 

He hasn't bitten yet - but he has grazed me with his teeth. I know that he may bite any time he wishes, and I would be powerless to stop him. In fact, I am concerned that I would offer up my hand willingly to him, letting him bite, allowing him to feed.

 

I so want this to pass. My concern is that my black dog will take me with him this time. This time, he may do more than simply nuzzle my hand playfully as he did so many years ago.

 

Last time, I gave my hand willingly. I was prepared for the black dog to bite, and he chose not to. I was ready for the black dog to bite, and I willingly bared my throat for him to pounce.

 

Willingly or not, my throat is bared to the black dog tonight. He is off his leash, howling at the moon. His blood is up. He smells the fear, and it thrills him.

 

The chase has begun. Tonight, when the moon hides and there is nothing to show either his face or mine, the dog will decide.

 

Does he bite his mistress, or leave her to battle another night - knowing full well that his is the upper hand? Either way, victory is his tonight. I am at the will, the whim, (and should he have any) the mercy, of the black dog.

 

Does anybody have some good ideas on how to handle stress?

Without  Alcohol? (It's a bit unfortunate, but remember, I'm one of the more fortunate people who only work 8 hours a day, and are then on call for the 16 hours until my next shift).

 

I don't like the idea of taking drugs at all, and I'm having trouble sleeping. Not that that is anything terribly new, but I'm getting less sleep than ever before.

 

Nothing works like a good old fashioned curry with a bottle (or 3) of Elephant beer, but I can't have beer on-call. Exercise is sort-of out of the question, because I can't go for a run, or bike ride, or a swim, unless I run or ride around the block 50 times, and this gets repetitive, and going for a swim I have to rely on someone else to answer my phone, get my attention, then get out of the pool, get dry, get changed into my uniform, and then go out on the case.

Same with running or riding, really. Who wants a sweaty, smelly paramedic hanging over them or their child? I know I don't!

 

I stretch, but can't get the hang of yoga without falling over and bruising some part of myself. My son thinks this is absolutely hilarious to watch, by the way.

 

Blogging again should help - you guys have always helped keep me sane. Or, stopped my insanity from progressing, is probably more like it!

What hair color do they put on the driver's licenses of bald men? How do they check?

What WAS the best thing before sliced bread?

If it's zero degrees outside today and it's supposed to be twice as
cold tomorrow, how cold is it going to be?

Since Americans throw rice at weddings, do Orientals throw hamburgers?

Why are they called apartments, when they're all stuck together?

Why is a carrot more orange than an orange?

Why could Superman stop bullets with his chest, but he always ducked when someone threw a gun at him?

If it was a three hour cruise, why did Mrs. Howell have so many clothes with her?

Why is lemon juice mostly artificial ingredients BUT dishwashing liquid contains real lemons?

Why buy a product that takes 2000 flushes to get rid of?

Why do we wash bath towels? Aren't we clean when we use them?

Why do we put suits in a garment bag and garments in a suitcase?

Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?

What do little birdies see when they get knocked unconscious?

If, instead of talking to your plants, you yelled at them, would they
still grow, only be troubled and insecure?

When you open a bag of cotton balls, is the top one meant to be thrown away?

Why isn't there mouse-flavored cat food?

What should you do when you see an endangered animal eating an
endangered plant?

Is it possible to be totally partial?

Is confessing something to someone a good idea, or a bad idea?

I'm not speaking of the Catholic confession (I'm not Catholic, and to be honest, I'm not really sure how that goes), I mean if you do something that perhaps you shouldn't have done, should you tell the person who it goes against?

Or, if you are having thoughts or feelings about someone, should you confess those to that person?

 

I'm a great believer in weighing up the pros and cons of each idea and how it will effect the person you are confessing to before you reveal your deepest, darkest secrets. But having said that, am I hiding the truth from someone because I don't like the consequences for ME?

 

I have no secrets from my husband (whom I love dearly, and quite frankly, I don't see any other person the same way that I see him), but a friend came to me today to confess their feelings for me. I'm not sure how I feel about it - I'm pretty upset, because they are married, and marriage is pretty much sacred to me. I would never do anything to hurt either my DB or our relationship, but this person has (in my opinion). Am I wrong? Should I tell my husband what was confessed to me (and hurt their relationship), or should I just be quiet and pretend it didn't happen?

 

I really wish I didn't know what was told to me today - I didn't want it to change things between us, but it kinda has to. I felt guilty about hurting this person's feelings, but I know I shouldn't. Hurting my husband's feelings would actually hurt me. I don't feel the same way as my friend does, and even if I did, I would never go out and tell them. I would just wait and hope it went away.

 

The other possibility, of course, is that I am completely over-analysing this tempest in a teacup, and I should let sleeping dogs lie. At least that way, nothing gets snarly and bites me on the bot-bot.

If the first thing I do when I log on to this site is read other people's blogs, does this mean that I've become a voyeur? Or am I simply lonely much of the time?

 

Anyway, I've always been unsure as to what to write in my blog. I never want to upset people, and i want to put good feelings out to as many of you as possible (simply because so many of you make me feel good - I am still laughing at the idea of throwing chicken McNuggets at PETA protesters), but i am still unsure what to write at times.

 

I'm not nearly as funny as some of you are, and I can't write beautiful poems like glamel, and i don't post beautiful pictures like wdwfla does (mostly because I'm too challenged to figure out how!), so I guess the big question is "How do I give back nearly as much as I receive?"

 

One sure way is to post this link

http://www.mayyoubeblessedmovie.com

 

I must be honest - I trawl through other people's blogs as I seem to have a lot in common with some regular posters, and i hope to bring some sunshine into people's lives. Sometimes, all we need is for someone to reach out to us, and it's nice to be the person doing the reaching when you can.

 

I find some interesting and amusing things on other people's blogs too. IndieQueen recently posted the contents of her new MP3 player, and I faithfully read every song title on there. In Australia, we clearly do not get the full range of music that you lucky people in the States get. This particular one took my eye "The Only Diffrenece Between Suicide and Martyrdom is Press Coverage-Panic at the Disco", and I must be honest, it made me laugh.

 

THAT is my thought for the day!

A new quiz of mine has been placed online!  It is in the Writers & Authors category, in People.  Click on the link below to play it, and feel free to leave comments!

 

	Author, Author! (10 questions)
	I just love to read, and here are some questions about my favourite authors.

Ding Dong the flu is gone, the flu is gone, the flu is gone,

Ding Dong the wicked flu is gone!!!!

Feeling way better physically today - no stuffy nose, no joint aches and pains, no throwing up, NO COMPLAINTS!

I've been loading up on this great herbal tea I found, with citrus and echinacea. I know that echinacea is supposed to help with colds and the like, and that lemon juice and honey is supposed to be great for a cold or a sore throat. I don't know if this tea has 'cured' me , but I suppose that 5 cups of tea would help with drinking lots of fluids and flushing the garbage out of my system. Either way, I am HAPPY with the result.

 

On a different note, today was not such a good day at work. A fatal accident to start the day, and the guy I worked the case with doesn't appear to be coping all that well. I hope he is okay - I worry about others more than I worry about me in that department.

 

Today (monday) was my friday - I now have two days off!!!! Oh happy days! Although I have more work to do at home than I have actually at work - washing, ironing, cooking, cleaning, all the fun "Mum" stuff, but at least I'm home with my family. I love my boy so much it hurts to be away from him, and I love my DB almost the same way. All the kids are great, actually (I have two step children).

I've been spending a bit of time lately reading other people's blogs, and I've discovered that there are so many talented people out there. Way to go! Keep 'em coming.

Laying in bed last night, with my DB (Dearly Beloved - husband) we flipped over to SBS and watched "RockWiz" - a music trivia quiz show here in Australia. They have two special guest musicians captaining a team each, and the other two team members on their teams are people from the audience.

Each episode they ask the muscial talent "What was the first album you bought?". It's great to hear some of the answers. It got me to thinking, so I ask DB what the first album he ever bought was.

"I don't remember," came the somewhat cautious-sounding response. I then cajole and wheedle, asking him to give up the information. He responds to my childish behaviour with

"So, what was the first album you ever bought then?"

I am proud to admit (and this will show all of you who ever had any doubt as to my mental health, or ill-health as the case may be) that the first album I ever bought was 'Dead Man's Party' by Oingo Boingo. I loooooooved that album (still have it, by the way, on CD). The original i purchased on vinyl for the princely sum of $5 (they were having a clearance of all the stuff they couldn't get rid of!) and I loved it to death.

I used to play it on my mum's record player, and i used to speed up the play speed! Danny Elfman does a great chipmunk!

The second album I bought was "Plaza Suite" by Martin Plaza - he was a member of a great Aussie band of the 80's, Mental As Anything.

 

So - for those of you who like to respond to me (and are prepared to shame yourselves a little in the process), What are the 5 daggiest albums in your collection? To get the ball rolling, I will give you mine.

 

1 Dead Man's Party - Oingo Boingo

2 Rogues Gallery - Slade

3 Imperial Wizard - David Essex

4 Martika's Kitchen - Martika

5 Gold - ABBA

 

I have to admit that when I have a few drinks with my friends, we often listen to songs like:

1 Billy Don't Be a Hero - Paper Lace

2 Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep - Middle Of The Road

3 I think I Love You - The Partridge Family

4 Stop the Cavalry - Jona Lewie

5 Safety Dance - Men Without Hats

6 Popcorn - Hot Buttered

7 Shoop Shoop Diddy Wop - ???

8 Video Killed The Radio Star - The Buggles

9 Down on the Corner - Creedence Clearwater Revival

10 Captain Jack - Billy Joel

Oh, and before anybody says anything - it's only a screwdriver or two before we start listening to that embarassment! We don't do anything else - only alcohol.

I know that I'm being melodramatic, but I'm sick.

It's flu season here in Australia, as winter is just around the corner. I don't have the flu (well not the full-fledged superstar variety), but I do have one of its roadies. I feel headachey and I have a sore throat. My tummy doesn't want me to eat anything, and unfortunately it's being a difficult customer in the drinks department too (it has sent stuff back two or three times this morning already).

Today is Sunday, which means I won't call in sick. If I worked at a station that I knew would do some work today with actual people, I wouldn't be here. Since the likelihood of actually getting a job here is pretty much 0, I'll come in and take their extra money for working on a Sunday.

Oh, I'm such a martyr. Listen to me complain, would ya! I'm such a drama queen at times.

I think I would like some cheese to go with my whine!

Why, Why, Why? I hear the world  scream, Why would you change your avatar?

Simple - I found another one I like just as much as the wet cat. The dopey dog wearing a helmet. While on many a morning I feel like the cat looked (bedraggled and somewhat forlorn), I feel that a pooch with a helmet also sums up my personality.

It's not that healthy, but I'm TRYING!

At least it's not going to get any worse by succumbing to a traumatic head injury whilst valiantly attempting to skateboard down a hill that would make Bart Simpson nervous. Sober. I forgot to add sober.

I'm in a bit of a mood today - I'm bored witless. I've read three novels in the past three days (all of which have been terrific), but I really am craving some intellectual stimulation. I need to do something that is going to make me THINK.

I've only moved the bus in the last few days to go home and come to work. Anybody who thinks being a paramedic is a roller-coaster ride of excitement has never worked here in Lower Butt Crack. That's not the official name of the place, but is a fitting description. It's a circle of Hell, I'm just not sure which one yet. Perhaps the 4th circle where the wasters and the misers struggle to push heavy weights at each other, then go back and do it all over again. For eternity.

Hmmmmm. Fitting description.

Reading the newspaper this morning, I discovered an article about the breakup of Sir Paul McCartney and Heather Mills. I don't usually read this kind of rot, but something caught my eye.

The settlement amount.

Apparently it equates to $2.5 million for each WEEK the couple were married. $2.5 million. I'm gobsmacked to say the least.

The woman claims she's not a gold-digger. I'm kinda finding that claim hard to believe at this point. Who needs 2.5 mill a WEEK? I would only need to be married for a week to be deliriously happy for the rest of my life! People need to learn to do other things with their money. Find something useful to do with it - more than a billion people on this planet make less than $1 a day (yes Heather, that's a single dollar, there's no million behind it) and silly english cows want $2.5 million per week. So much for Heather's social conscience.

 

Oh, and Sir Paul, if by some vastly ridiculous twist of fate you are reading this, I'm a BARGAIN! I don't want to hold your wallet, honey, I wanna hold your hand.

Okay - you just have to play this one!

 

http://www.yetanotherdot.com/asp/80s.html

 

I did, and actually got them all right!

 

I need to get out more, and yes, I have hung my head in shame! Please no posts telling me what a complete loser I am (Believe me, I already know)!!!!

 

Cheers!

 

Ec

Today is Mother's Day in Australia. As it is after 1030pm, I can tell you all that I had a pretty good day, all things being even.

 

My day started with my son flat-out refusing to get out of bed and make me breakfast. Which was actually pretty funny, as he had been telling anyone who would stand still long enough all week that he was making me "Peanut Butter Toast" for breakfast on Mother's Day. He was pretty tired this morning, so I let it go.

 

My darling, love of my life made me breakfast in bed - coffee (mmmmm, coffee) and Nutella toast. Personally, I can't stand Nutella. The decision was made by my beloved son who told him that he would make Nutella toast for mum for breakfast when he discovered (yesterday) we were out of Peanut Butter. I eat it because it is made with love (and a lot of effort)! Besides, with coffee, it all tastes good.

 

My son buggers off with my Grandma before I get out of bed, because Nanna's is where the roast lunch is gonna be. No flies on that boy! He teed up with Grandma during the week that he was going with her for lunch on Sunday, and she came and got him before I got up! Although I did sleep late, and not get up until 1100 (which for me is a real luxury). I feel sorry for him, because my mother is going to be there (She's a cow, but she is good to my boy and that's all that matters), but anyway off he goes.

 

Much to my surprise, my stepson makes me some toast (more Nutella) and coffee at 1100, which was REALLY sweet. I felt really good about that.

 

I go and pick up my son from Nanna's, and my Grandma has had two bottles of wine (on her own, no less) and is a little rat-assed. THEN she tells me why.

This morning, during her usual Sunday-morning radio broadcast (She is an announcer on a community radio station, which she loves), a lady called up and asked her to play a song for all the mothers who have lost a child. My Grandma cries for over an hour - I HATE to see my Grandma cry because I love her so much, and she's a tough old stick. My uncle died 30 years ago, and she still can't talk about it. She promised herself that she would never love anyone ever again, and apart from me and my son, I think she's done pretty well at that one. I think we're the only people she tells, anyway.

 

Anyway, on the way home, my dearly beloved calls to ask when I will be home. Scott has rung because he wants us to have a look at his daughter's arm. We both look - he thinks it's okay, I say it's not, and it's off to the hospital for an x-ray for the divine Miss Em. Later we learn that the divine Miss Em has a greenstick fracture, and we both walk away smug in the knowledge that we were right!

 

Dinner goes off without a hitch, the kids are in bed, the fridge has been defrosted, and I've had a FANTASTIC day. Probably the best Mother's Day ever for me.

 

For all the other mums out there - I hope you've had a great day too.

 

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

Okay, I've been inspired to write this entry.

 

What your grandma told you is true - WE CHECK UNDIES! It is actually more important to us than your blood pressure, your pulse, your level of consciousness, or why you called us. We want to see if you've put on your best undies (just in case) like your grandma told you too.

 

NEVER start a conversation with a paramedic with the words "It's not funny". You know it is, we know it is. Admit it, and we can all move on. Also, don't forget we lift people and other associated heavy things for a living. Many of us have hernias. If you make us try to hold the laughter in, someone is gonna get hurt. Usually us.

 

The other line not to start a conversation with the trusty paramedics is "Well, you're not going to believe it, but...." We know that we are not going to believe it BECAUSE IT IS NOT TRUE. Waste the 2 minutes you used to think up some completely lame excuse for the reason you called us by practising looking remorseful. I've heard this line from people in all sorts of situations, none of which I can put here!

 

The best piece of advice I can give you .... If it hurts, don't do it. If you think it might hurt, don't do it. If you must do it, wear clean, hole-free undies.

 

Oh, and I AM kidding on the undies thing. That is a joke. Please don't take that one seriously. I always wondered why my grandma used to tell me to make sure I was wearing clean underwear - I haven't checked yet, and I've done this for ten years!

A new quiz of mine has been placed online!  It is in the Prescription Drugs category, in Sci / Tech.  Click on the link below to play it, and feel free to leave comments!

 

	Australian Medications (10 questions)
	Like many countries around the world, Australia has a large number of drugs available both over-the-counter and by prescription. This quiz is designed to test your knowledge of drugs available here in the land downunder.

A new quiz of mine has been placed online!  It is in the Useless Trivia category, in General.  Click on the link below to play it, and feel free to leave comments!

 

	Another "Libra" wrapper Odd Spot quiz (15 questions)
	After finding useless trivia information printed on "Libra" products wrappers, I've created yet another quiz based on these facts. This one is my first attempt at a True/False quiz.

Why? Why? Why? 

Why does the sun lighten our hair, but darken our skin?

Why can't women put on mascara with their mouth closed?

Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?

Why don't you ever see the headline "Psychic Wins Lottery?"

Why is "abbreviated" such a long word?

Why is a boxing ring square?

Why is it called lipstick if you can still move your lips?

Why is it considered necessary to nail down the lid of a coffin?

Why is it that doctors call what they do "practice"?

Why is it that rain drops but snow falls?

Why is it that to stop Windows 95 or 98, you have to click on "Start?"

Why is it that when you're driving and looking for an address, you turn
down the volume on the radio?

Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavor, and dishwashing liquid
made with real lemons?

Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker?

Why is the time of day with the slowest traffic called rush hour?

Why is the word dictionary in the dictionary?

Why isn't there mouse-flavored cat food?

You know that little indestructible black box that is used on planes,
why can't they make the whole plane out of the same substance?

Can fat people go skinny-dipping?

Why do you need a driver's license to buy liquor when you can't drink
and drive?

So I'm back. I've not been blogging for a while, and I've decided that today is the day to re-enter the atmosphere and get back to the blog.

I haven't actually been anywhere other than to work, but it's been a little hectic the past few days, and I don't usually blog at home. I just don't have the time. I swear I have more work to do at home than I do at work. Considering my occupation, most people are happy with that. I love being a paramedic - it's the only job I've ever had where members of the public are happy to see a government employee doing not much. I actually try not to be visible doing nothing. Some of my colleagues are happy for the public to see them sitting around reading mindless magazines, but I'm not. I don't think it makes us look good. I'm not a huge fan of tabloid magazines (Space aliens took my daughter - she now opens for Elvis!), and I certainly wouldn't want the paramedic I saw reading this magazines to be the face I see when I've been in a car wreck. I personally don't see this as inspiring a lot of trust or confidence in their abilities.

We're pretty much allowed to use our down-time as we see fit (and there are a lot of things that we can't do, but I see that list as being reasonable), and I don't begrudge anyone a bit of relaxation. Our job is pretty stressful at times. I just think that we should NOT be doing stuff like reading tabloid magazines whilst sitting on the front fence at work. Looks tacky. What do you think?

I try to spend my down-time productively. I will study each day if I can, and I spend a bit of time researching new/interesting things. I don't think that I can ever know too much about what I do for a living. Being a paramedic is important to me, and I would like to be as good at my job as I possibly can be. I think that the public deserves that much from me.

My pet hate about my job is the pay. I don't think that paramedics anywhere get paid nearly as much as we deserve. Yes, I make enought to live on. No, I don't make nearly as much money as your average bus driver here in Australia. Think about that - I am expected to save someone's life in the middle of the night or day, rain or shine, and I get paid less than the guy who drives the bus you take to work, school, or to the movies. HE isn't expected to save your life if you have a heart attack - he calls ME! I save your life, and he gets the big paypacket!

Hmmmmm

A new quiz of mine has been placed online!  It is in the Useless Trivia category, in General.  Click on the link below to play it, and feel free to leave comments!

 

	Interesting Trivia Source (10 questions)
	You can imagine my surprise and amusement when I found that "Libra" a brand of feminine hygiene products here in Australia started printing trivial "Odd Spots" on the wrapping of their product. These questions are taken from "Libra" wrappers.

This is one of the most difficult social problems known to society - How to let someone know their fly is unzipped.

The following is a list of suggestions:

 

TOP 20 WAYS TO TELL SOMEONE THEIR FLY IS UNZIPPED:

20) The cucumber has left the salad.
19) I can see the gun of Navarone.
18) Someone tore down the wall, and your Pink Floyd is hanging out.
17) You've got Windows on your laptop.
16) Sailor Ned's trying to take a little shore leave.
15) Your soldier isn't so unknown now.
14) Quasimodo needs to go back in the tower and tend to his bells.
13) You need to bring your tray table to the upright and locked position.
12) Paging Mr. Johnson... Paging Mr. Johnson...
11) Your pod bay door is open, Hal.
10) Elvis Junior has LEFT the building!
9) Mini Me is making a break for the escape pod.
8) Ensign Hanes is reporting a hull breach on the lower deck, Sir!
7) The Buick is not all the way in the garage.
6) Dr. Kimble has escaped!
5) You've got your fly set for "Monica" instead of "Hillary."
4) Our next guest is someone who needs no introduction...
3) You've got a security breach at Los Pantalones.
2) I'm talking about Shaft, can you dig it?

and The Number One Way to Tell Someone Their Fly Is Unzipped..

1) Men are From Mars, I Can See Your Penis.

A Psychological Test

This is a genuine psychological test.

It is a story about a girl. Whilst at the funeral of her own mother, she met this guy whom she did not know. She thought this guy was amazing, so much her dream guy she believed him to be, that she fell in love with him there and then.

A few days later the girl killed her own sister.

Question: What is her motive in killing her sister?

 

Stop and think for a minute before reading further.

The obvious answer, Mr Bundy? She was hoping that the guy would appear at the funeral again.

If you answered this correctly, you think like a psychopath.

This was a test by a famous American psychologist used to test if one has the same mentality as a killer. Many arrested serial killers took part in this test and answered it correctly.

If you didn't answer correctly - good for you.

If your friends hit the jackpot, may I suggest that you keep your distance.

Firstly, today I would like to thank the people who took the time out of their day to respond to me yesterday.

lorabollinger - thank you so much. It's nice to hear from people who are in a similar boat.

kaylofgorons - your thoughts and prayers I am grateful for. I thanked the Lord in my prayers for you, and asked for you to be as equally blessed as I am to have had you reach out to me.

luvtheheaven - I am thankful to have you as a friend. Friendship is precious, and something that I appreciate.

While what happened at work yesterday is something that I will carry with me for the rest of my life, time heals all wounds. I know that there are things that I will never forget, and that some pain is tremendous and never seems to dull, but all that does fade with time. I will never forget ALL of what happened and I will continue to feel some pain, but it does get easier. Some pain just takes longer than others to dull.

On a brighter note - it is a beautiful day! The sun is shining and it is not too hot. Glorious!

Have a great day! CHEERS,

ecnalubma

Let me begin this post by saying two things:

1) Today has been a very bad day at work; and

2) Today is the first day that I have cried at work for a very long time.

 

My day began just like any other. Off to take a patient for a routine appointment. All was well with the world at that point. On the way to picking up the patient for their regular appointment, the whole world turned upside down. I wasn't paying attention, but what happened soon got my attention.

 

I can't say any more than that. I had just typed out the whole thing, when I realised that other people are going to read this. I simply can't put out there what happened. I don't want to upset anybody. Let me just say this:

 

I've been a paramedic for the past ten years. The person I'm working with has been a paramedic for at least twenty years. Both of us agree that this was one of the most emotionally draining cases we've EVER been to. I cried, they cried. I really don't know if I've ever had a worse day at work.

I've had days at work when I've been there when people came into the world, and I've been there when people have left their earthly bodies for better places than this. I've even had one day at work when I was there for both.

Today was the first day when the world seemed to stand still for a split second, and it didn't even happen to ME.

 

I feel shredded - emotionally shredded. I want to cry, and I can't. I want to feel better, and I can't.

 

There's a feeling in the pit of my stomach that won't go away. I don't know what it is - it isn't fear, it isn't apprehension, it isn't even something that I could adequately describe as pain. I really don't know what it is, but I want it to go away. Crying seemed to make it smaller, but I can't cry anymore. I don't know what I need and I don't know what I want, other than I want this horrible feeling to leave me and never return.

 

I hope you all have a better day than I did.

 

Forgive me if I don't say "Cheers" today - there is nothing to celebrate.

 

ECNALUBMA 

Today is 25th April, and in Australia it is ANZAC day.

 

ANZAC stands for the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. Today is the day that we remember the brave soldiers who have fought for our freedom. We give thanks to those who survived and pray for the souls of those who did not.

 

ANZAC day always makes me cry. I can't imagine the horror of war - I'm so fortunate to have never had to fight in combat - and I am so grateful for the men and women who have put their lives on the line to fight.

 

I find it difficult to put into words the full spectrum of emotions that ANZAC day brings to the fore for me. I cry when they play the last post. I cry when they play revellie. I cry when I see old men cry because I can't even begin to imagine what they have seen or heard or smelt or tasted or felt that would make them cry, but in my heart I know that it must have been hell. In the true sense of the word.

 

I hope that the children of the future find a way to end war once and for all. Unfortunately, I don't think that human beings have that in their inherent nature. That makes me cry too.

 

Two good things about ANZAC day - Two-up, and ANZAC biscuits. I can't gamble at work, but I can eat ANZAC biscuits! And boy, have I eaten some ANZAC biscuits today.

 

I will try to find a recipe (they are simple), and will post it here for you to try. Well worth it. Also, if you are inspired enough to make the biscuits (or cookies if you prefer), have a look at a website or two about ANZAC day.

 

www.anzacsite.gov.au

 

www.anzacday.org.au

 

www.dva.gov.au/commem/anzac/

 

Have a great day.