This week I'm going to wax a little philisophical with y'all. Bear with me. I have nothing original to say here, because what I'm feeling right now is as old as life, and death, itself.
One of my co-workers, Mike "The Machine" Denman, a magnetic, lively firecracker of a person, died suddenly this last Tuesday. He was ill very briefly, and although I don't know exactly what the initial illness was, I believe he died from a secondary complication. It's shocking and sad, always, when a person young and healthy dies. The Machine was only 34 years old.
Okay, so I work on an ambulance for a living, and I get that death isn't always a long drawn-out process and sometimes it's sudden and unexpected. But what I'm feeling right now has far less to do with that the fact that he was young and far more to do with the fact that he was good.
Just good.
A sweet, kind, wickedly witty and funny, crazy intelligent good guy. A guy who always, literally, always, had a bright, beaming smile on his face. A guy who was so smart and would share his knowledge in a way that made you feel like you were as smart as he was, as if he was just reminding you of something you already knew. A guy who left a good feeling with all the patients, families, hospital staff, and co-workers he encountered. All the time. In a workplace that can be petty and riddled with gossip, he did not engage. He would far sooner laugh at his own expense than someone else's. If he had an issue with a peer, he would gently, skillfully weave it into a conversation and that peer would soon be nodding along in agreement, having been shown the error of his ways, in the most respectful of manners. Mikey had mad people skills to go along with his street smarts and amazing clinical knowledge. Last month, he and his partner spearheaded a food drive that involved sitting in an ambulance for 48 hours and accepting donations with the hope of filling that ambulance with food. They got over a ton, I think it actually ended up being 2600 pounds, of food donated. The month before, he and his partner (in crime!) organized a competition called "Splintfest" that pitted two employees against each other in determining who had the best mad skills with wounded limbs. It was so fun, and such a boost to morale. Who else would have done these things? Well, other than his terrific (and heartbroken) partner, no one.
He was the whole package.
That's the saddest thing.
When young people die, we murmur of our shock, we express condolences about the children and spouses left behind, we speak of the unfairness of parents burying their children. But I'm going to be honest here. We don't always necessarily miss that person, even though we're caught up in the "youngness" of it all. Now, here's where I go all cliche on you: Some people, not many, make a difference. Some people leave a space behind that is frighteningly impossible to fill. I don't think Mikey did anything with the intent of being remembered someday as a great person, he just was, inherently, good.
Do you ever wonder how you will be remembered? Once in a while, I have... Since Tuesday, I have A LOT. The pain of Mike "The Machine's" loss is a reflection on how he lived his life. A ray of sunshine is burned out, and it hurts. But Lord, does it also inspire. Mikey left the world a better place than he found it, and I pray that out of his death, the people who knew him may choose to be a little kinder, a little more patient, smile a little more, and exercise the goodness within that we all choose to suppress sometimes. In your memory, Mikey D, I post this and wish you Godspeed until we meet again, one sweet day.
http://mikedenmantribute.blogspot.com/2010/01/memories-of-machine.html#comments
Friday, January 29, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
My very first blog post, ever.
For 20 January, 2010
Welcome to Rachel's World. I've never blogged before, or even so much as kept a journal. To be honest, the only reason I started this blog is because it's a requirement of my composition class. Yes, I said composition class...
You see, at the ripe old age of 41, I find myself a "College Student." Last summer, after much wringing of hands, gnashing of teeth, and literally years of thinking about returning to school, I finally took the plunge. What was holding me back? Reasons... Lack of support... Excuses, mostly. And now, six short months later I'm in my third quarter of school already. The time is going by lightning fast, but I'm trying to be very conscious of taking this school thing one term at a time and not thinking too much about the big picture.
I'll be 44 by the time I achieve my goal and earn a Bachelor's degree. Forty-four, and on the job hunt.
Scary? You bet. But if I don't do this thing, I'll still turn 44 in 2012, only without the higher education I've always wanted but never got around to getting. So, one quarter at a time, I'll get it done.
I hope.
The harsh truth is, I haven't always followed through... I've let myself down, and my family. My parents. I need to do this now, for me. I need to do this so I have credibility when I tell my children how important it is to get a college education. I need to do this so I can be a better provider to my household and ease the burden on my husband. I just need to do this.
I think about the different ways I've defined myself as an adult. First and foremost, I'm a wife and mother. For a time I was a single mother. For a long time, actually. But a mother since I was 20 years old. I've always placed the most value on my role as a matriarch, the female head of my household. But I'm also a daughter, a sister, friend, auntie, cousin, neighbor, and employee/ co-worker.
Here's more on that: Employee. Co-worker. I've worked for my present private ambulance company employer since 1994, in the field since 1992. That's an eternity in emergency medical services. I am, as "they" say, a dinosaur, and I'm ready to close this chapter and see what else is out there for me. Maybe not today, or this year, but in the foreseeable future I'll be walking away from my comfort zone that I know so well and asking someone else to hire me. I'll have to start all over again, just like I did in 1992, when I first set foot on an ambulance.
Since then, those early days of my EMS career, I've been in the presence of some stunningly life-altering, and sometimes life-ending, moments. I've been in the presence of phenomenal abuse of the 911 system. True: they're someone else's moments, and I'm just a witness. The vast majority of contacts I've had with patients and their families are forgotten by the end of the day or sometimes by the end of the week, but there are a few standouts that I carry with me and always will. The experience, as a whole, of being present in people's most vulnerable and desperate moments has had its effect. I still have compassion, but I'm nowhere near as idealistic as I was. I get bitter about the abuse of the system. My back hurts, and my shoulder hurts. I'm tired, and it's time to move on.
I hope, if you take the time to read and follow this blog, you'll read about my continuing success in school. I hope you read, late in 2012, that I've graduated. I pray that shortly after that, you'll read that I've gotten my dream job in pharmaceutical research and development. But if you don't read or follow this blog, then I hope you'll wish me well on my journey.
~Rachel T
Welcome to Rachel's World. I've never blogged before, or even so much as kept a journal. To be honest, the only reason I started this blog is because it's a requirement of my composition class. Yes, I said composition class...
You see, at the ripe old age of 41, I find myself a "College Student." Last summer, after much wringing of hands, gnashing of teeth, and literally years of thinking about returning to school, I finally took the plunge. What was holding me back? Reasons... Lack of support... Excuses, mostly. And now, six short months later I'm in my third quarter of school already. The time is going by lightning fast, but I'm trying to be very conscious of taking this school thing one term at a time and not thinking too much about the big picture.
I'll be 44 by the time I achieve my goal and earn a Bachelor's degree. Forty-four, and on the job hunt.
Scary? You bet. But if I don't do this thing, I'll still turn 44 in 2012, only without the higher education I've always wanted but never got around to getting. So, one quarter at a time, I'll get it done.
I hope.
The harsh truth is, I haven't always followed through... I've let myself down, and my family. My parents. I need to do this now, for me. I need to do this so I have credibility when I tell my children how important it is to get a college education. I need to do this so I can be a better provider to my household and ease the burden on my husband. I just need to do this.
I think about the different ways I've defined myself as an adult. First and foremost, I'm a wife and mother. For a time I was a single mother. For a long time, actually. But a mother since I was 20 years old. I've always placed the most value on my role as a matriarch, the female head of my household. But I'm also a daughter, a sister, friend, auntie, cousin, neighbor, and employee/ co-worker.
Here's more on that: Employee. Co-worker. I've worked for my present private ambulance company employer since 1994, in the field since 1992. That's an eternity in emergency medical services. I am, as "they" say, a dinosaur, and I'm ready to close this chapter and see what else is out there for me. Maybe not today, or this year, but in the foreseeable future I'll be walking away from my comfort zone that I know so well and asking someone else to hire me. I'll have to start all over again, just like I did in 1992, when I first set foot on an ambulance.
Since then, those early days of my EMS career, I've been in the presence of some stunningly life-altering, and sometimes life-ending, moments. I've been in the presence of phenomenal abuse of the 911 system. True: they're someone else's moments, and I'm just a witness. The vast majority of contacts I've had with patients and their families are forgotten by the end of the day or sometimes by the end of the week, but there are a few standouts that I carry with me and always will. The experience, as a whole, of being present in people's most vulnerable and desperate moments has had its effect. I still have compassion, but I'm nowhere near as idealistic as I was. I get bitter about the abuse of the system. My back hurts, and my shoulder hurts. I'm tired, and it's time to move on.
I hope, if you take the time to read and follow this blog, you'll read about my continuing success in school. I hope you read, late in 2012, that I've graduated. I pray that shortly after that, you'll read that I've gotten my dream job in pharmaceutical research and development. But if you don't read or follow this blog, then I hope you'll wish me well on my journey.
~Rachel T
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