Every medic with intubation as a skill shall intubate, and be intubated by, another medic EVERY MONTH.

Now that’s gonna put a pucker in your factor…

Sign me up.

I absolutely love it!

I decided to do ribs yesterday.  After several attempts, I think I’ve perfected the technique.

I usually use a coffee-based rub and sauce, or a more generic (home-made) ketchup-based sauce, but yesterday was a day spent spiffing up the Tiki Lounge, so something a little more tropical was in order.

I started off with a large rack of spareribs, and applied a bit of Steven Raichlens’ Island Spice Rub.

Onto the Traeger for a few hours of smoking with Apple wood.

In the meantime, I created a Tropical Marinade:
     2/3 cup pinapple juice
     2 garlic cloves
     3 Tablespoons brown sugar
     3 Tablespoons cider vinegar
     1 teaspoon ground ginger
     1/4 teaspoon cayenne

After the ribs were done, I wrapped them, with the marinade, tightly in aluminum foil, and put them back onto the Traeger on low heat (200°) for several more hours.

And started work on the sauce (that I found on the internet):
      1 fresh lemon squeezed
      1 cup of ketchup
      1 cup of blackstrap molasses
      2 teaspoons brown sugar
      1 orange squeezed (any kind)
       1 pinch of garlic salt
       1 teaspoon of pineapple juice

This was the topper!  The ribs were delicious.  Tender, moist & VERY flavorful.

Even Hilda said they were the best ribs I’ve ever made.

Try them…

I knew we’d bet along just fine on our first call together.  We were outside next to the rig when we looked at each other and simultaneously blurted out “What.  The. Fuck.  Over.”   It was spontaneous and set the tone for our working relationship.

So we found ourselves on another call recently.  The trailer was not the cleanest in the world, and we were treading in some feline feces.

So Southern Boy turned to the occupant, and in his normal loud, boistrous voice, pronounced that there was ‘cat poop’ on the floor.

Damned if he didn’t hear him the first time.

Southern Boy hitched up his pants and said even louder:

“CAT POO-OOP!”

It was all I could do not to snicker out loud.  Thank heavens I had a patient to attend to.

It was just that I’d never heard the word ‘poop’ said so loud or in two syllables! 

Now, I am not totally ignorant of the genteel southern ways.  I’m a big fan of sweet tea.  I love Waffle House.

And I’ve definitely heard the other term for feces, and it was most certainly said using two very clear and distinct syllables. 

“Shee-It”

 I was in tears retelling the story to Hilda later that evening.  Southern Boy has just got to come up for some adult beverages in the Tiki Lounge…

Illustrated haiku – combining my photography and haiku…

Shriek from my right side: SLUG BUG!

And pain. Caught again…

Really?  Everyday heroes?  Does anybody involved in EMS for more than, say, a year or so, really believe that anymore?

Yes, there are occasionally some heroics involved.  Some folks definitely go above and beyond, pull the occasional save out of an orifice, but for the most part, it’s a day after day trudge through societies’ poor, mentally ill, not-quite-the-rocket-scientist who don’t have any other means of help readily at hand.

Most of us on the streets, crammed into a vibrating box barely big enough to fit us, stashed conveniently on a side street somewhere, just trying to get through the day without getting blood, vomit, or another body fluid on our boots, and just trying to earn a paycheck for our family.

Any semblance of hero disappeared years ago, with our freshly shined boots, Rescue Randy equipment-stuffed bags and belts, and the thought that we could cure anybody, fix anything.

One of my first haiku, and I still think the most profound:

Rookies, seeking thrills
And blood, not an old lady
With constipation

Don’t get me wrong.  I still love it.  I’m still here every day.  But as I age, as I see the abuse of the health care system, as I see the results of depravity, of a fast food & immediate gratification society, and of people who just don’t care, I wonder why I’m still here.

I put in a determined effort to be the best medic I can.  I go the extra mile to gather as much information about my patient, to get to the root cause if possible, fix what’s wrong (if I can), start the process ball rolling.

I despise needless interventions.  I don’t tolerate fools. 

But I’m proud of what I do.   I want to learn something new every day.  I want to be the best person, the best medic, I can be.

So, Happy EMS Week to my fellow street rats, dispatchers, firefighters, and hospital folk.  Be the best you can be.

Compassionate.

Caring.

Honest.