Musings On Time, Death and Toilets

One of my daily quandaries involves what to put in my blog and what to put in the new book. For those of you keeping score at home, the Last Book is selling well enough that I soon will be able to move into that swanky double-wide I’ve long had my eye on.

Yeah, like maybe 2009.

I started this blog less than two weeks ago, much to my publisher’s chagrin, who thinks I should be pouring my energy into stories for The Next Book. Well Boss, soon you can stop rolling pennies to pay the printing costs of the last humble tome, because both of my faithful readers seem to be discerning literary connoisseurs who enjoy a tale well told. It strikes me that you guys would be the perfect reviewers to tell me whether these stories should make the cut for the second book. So without further ado, tell me what ya think…

There are 60 seconds in a minute. That’s 3600 seconds in an hour, and 43,200 seconds in a twelve-hour shift. Given the fact that our parish has a population of roughly 150,000, and there are usually at least four ambulances on duty at any one time, dividing a daily call volume of fifty or so calls between them, the chances seem infinitesimally small that I would constantly get called out while I am on the toilet. Yet here I sit, wrestling with a pager and my pants, desperately tearing one square at a time off a toilet paper roll that refuses to live up to its name – roll – trying to get back to my rig where my partner eagerly awaits the opportunity to rescue some helpless little old lady who has fallen and can’t get up.

I’m stapled to the toilet in Taco Bell, fighting with the vindictive byproducts of two combo burritos with extra sour cream. Right now, Taco Bell is winning. Every time I get zipped up and my hand touches the bathroom doorknob, my guts spasm again and I find myself scrambling to make it back to the toilet in time. Each time my ass touches the toilet seat, my pager buzzes in an angry snarl, reminding me that time’s a wastin’ and Grandma’s hip is just getting sorer. I feel like I’m stuck in a game of Operation. I sigh and check my pager again. It’s a Priority Two, just a lift assist, at a residence just a few blocks from here.

Thank God. My response time will suck, but at least nobody’s dying. You know, I could just plug myself up and refuse to shit ever again. Now that would be a valuable public health initiative. Nobody would fall, or have strokes, go into cardiac arrest and die, or have asthma attacks. People would manage their blood sugar appropriately, and would drive safely and never have accidents. I’d be the modern day Jonas Salk. Nah, it would never work. I’d swell up and explode, and the greater patient populace would be forever deprived of my many talents.

I sigh and switch the portable radio to the talk-around channel before I key the mike. “Control, this is 306. We’ll be on that call in just a couple of minutes.”

“We’ve been holding that call for ten minutes now, 306. What’s the holdup?” comes the impatient reply.

Ten minutes, my ass. You only paged it to us three minutes ago.

I wait until my bowels stop rumbling before I reply. Gastronomical sound effects would be embarrassing right now. “Control, I’m uh, a little indisposed at the moment. I’ll be 10-8 in a minute.”

How are you indisposed, 306?” the dispatcher presses. I can just see her smirking at her console. Sweat breaks out on my forehead, and my guts twist into a knot.

“If you must know, I’m on the shitter!” I blurt. At that precise moment, my bowels burst forth like a volcano. It sounds like the nature show footage of male elephant seals fighting for mates.

“Ten-four, 306. Let us know when you’re en route,” comes the strangled reply, amid raucous laughter. Several laughing voices, in fact.

Well, there’s one dispatch tape that will be played again and again for the entertainment of the crews. I’ll have to run the ridicule gauntlet at shift change.

“Everything come out all right?” my partner smirks as I climb into the rig. Dusty Jensen has been an EMT for eight months. EMS hasn’t had the time yet to turn him into an out-of-shape old man with stiff knees and hemorrhoids. Right now, he’s twenty-three, blonde and having the time of his life. He lives for the bad calls, drives like the NASCAR fan that he is, shamelessly flirts with every unattached nurse in every Emergency Department, and is young and naïve enough to think that he invented the practice.

“Everything coming out is not the problem. That stuff punishes me every time I eat it.” I settle uncomfortably into my seat, buckling my seatbelt.

“So why do you insist on eating there?” he asks as he pulls into traffic.

“Other than the fact that it’s half-price?” I retort. “I have no idea. Taco Bell is my weakness.” Dusty says nothing, just gives me a sideways glance that communicates quite clearly that food in general is my weakness.

“Yeah, laugh it up rookie, “ I sigh, shifting gingerly in my seat as my guts start to rumble again. “When I got into this business, I looked like you. Twelve years of ambulance calls and fast food will do this to you.”

“We’re five minutes late responding to this call,” Dusty points out as he crosses Harrison Boulevard and turns left onto Donovan Circle. “They’ll probably have something to say about it.”

Nothing compared to the razzing I’m going to take from everybody in the control center. I’d much rather suffer through an ass-chewing for the late call.

“I’ll take the responsibility,” I assure him. “You can’t control the fact that your partner was on the shitter when they gave us the call.”

“You can’t just hold it?” he asks like the rookie he is, having never experienced hemorrhoids, gastric reflux, heartburn or indigestion. He is bright, eager and in disgustingly good shape. Right now I freaking hate him. He makes me feel old.

“No, I can’t just hold it,” I explain patiently. “Always take the opportunity to piss or take a
dump when it presents itself. All too often, you’ll need to but won’t have the opportunity. Besides, holding in a dump is unhealthy. It eventually backs up into your brain. That’s where shitty ideas like System Status Management come from.” I grimace and try to think about dams and brick walls as I feel my guts rumble ever more insistently.

By the time Dusty pulls to the curb outside 1512 Donovan Circle, my digestive system is in revolt. I am able to hold it in only through a supreme act of will and years of practice. We knock on the door and get no answer. I do a little potty dance on the doorstep, shifting uncomfortably from one leg to the other. Dusty cautiously opens the unlocked front door and calls out, “EMS! Somebody call an ambulance?”

“Back here,” a frail voice answers. “I’m in the bedroom!”

Dusty and I weave our way through the house, occasionally calling out “Where are you?” and being answered with “back here!” It’s an EMS version of Marco Polo. Eventually we find ourselves in the rearmost bedroom. There is a frail little woman sitting on the floor next to her wheelchair, looking very much embarrassed.

“Thank goodness,” the woman sighs happily. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.” The woman self-consciously arranges her housedress to cover her exposed knees.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” Dusty says sympathetically. “We were tied up on an emergency call,” he lies with a sidelong glance at me, “and we hurried just as fast as we could.”

“But we’re here now, so why don’t we get you off this hard floor and back into the bed?” I offer quickly. “Did you injure yourself when you fell?”

Please God, say no. The last thing I need is to be tied up with her for the next thirty minutes.

“I don’t think so,” she answers. “I forgot to lock the wheels on my chair, and it just kind of squirted out from under me,” she says, extending her arms to us. “If you young men could just help me up…”

“Don’t move, Ma’am,” Dusty says gravely, looking back at me and grinning evilly. “You may have injuries that aren’t immediately apparent. At least let us assess you before we move you.”

Goddamn you, Dusty Jensen. You’ll pay for this. I say nothing and just smile and nod, afraid to move suddenly.

“Well yes, I suppose that’s a good idea,” she agrees, pleased that this handsome young man is so solicitous. After this call, I’m going to going to beat the handsome young man’s ass, if I don’t wind up shitting myself first.

Dusty slowly and gently palpates her hips and lower extremities as I feel the sweat break out on my forehead. It’s the most thorough assessment I’ve ever seen him perform. I surreptitiously look around for a bathroom.

You are the master of your own body. Your sphincter is under your control. You are the master of your own body. Your sphincter is under your control. You are the master of your own…

“And does any of this hurt?” Dusty is asking as he flexes her feet and knees. If he had a reflex hammer, the little bastard would be checking her deep tendon reflexes.

Brick walls. The Hoover Dam. Fort Knox. Nuclear reactor control rods. Blast doors at NORAD…

“Any history of osteoporosis? Degenerative joint disease? Ever have a hip, knee or shoulder replacement?” Dusty is asking as he palpates the woman’s shoulders. I almost whimper as I shift from one leg to the other. My ass cheeks are clenched so tight I could squeeze a diamond from a charcoal briquet.

Setting concrete. Death Valley. Dry riverbeds. Intravenous infusions of Lomotil. Molasses in the wintertime…

“Okay Mrs. Perkins, I think we can safely help you up,” Dusty pronounces, motioning me over. “If you’ll just plant your feet firmly on the floor and take our hands…” I fix a pained smile on my face and bend over slightly, offering my hand.

Mudslides in Colombia. A tsunami in Sri Lanka. Lava flowing from a Peruvian volcano… Focus, man!

Dusty and I manage to help Mrs. Perkins back into her wheelchair. Dusty takes one of our run tickets from the clipboard and turns it to the refusal of care page. “Mrs. Perkins, if you’ll just sign here, signifying that you were not injured and did not want an ambulance to the hospital…” He trails off, patting his shirt pockets. Glaring, I grimly hand him my pen.

A fireworks factory explodes in China. Champagne corks popping. A horrific explosion in the Jello pudding factory. Oh Lord, I ain’t gonna make it…

“Thank you so much for your assistance,” Mrs. Perkins is gushing, shaking Dusty’s hand gratefully. As she turns to me, I grasp her hand and nearly double over. “Are you all right, dear?” she asks me, seeing the look on my face.

“Uh, could you point me to your bathroom?” I blurt in desperation. Bewildered, she points down the hall. Without another word I bolt in that direction, opening doors until I find the right one. Slamming the door with one hand, I fumble with my belt with the other, dropping my pager into the toilet in the process. I barely make it onto the toilet in time. I swear they can hear the elephant seals fighting all the way down the block.

Until next time…

  • AquaHolic

    OMG. Tears are streaming down my face! I’ve been checking for new entries every day since LawDog noted your presence. Please keep it up, and ost ore often. You are on my ‘must read’ list.

  • AquaHolic

    OMG. Tears are streaming down my face! I’ve been checking for new entries every day since LawDog noted your presence. Please keep it up, and ost ore often. You are on my ‘must read’ list.

  • Rabbit

    Never heard of Lomotil, huh? :D

    Sounds like you’d better start carrying it, or maybe some Liquid Cork. Great story. BTDT.

    Regards,
    Rabbit.

  • Rabbit

    Never heard of Lomotil, huh? :DSounds like you’d better start carrying it, or maybe some Liquid Cork. Great story. BTDT.Regards,Rabbit.

  • HollyB

    I know you’re a Manly Man, Ambo Driver, but for occasions like you just described it might be wise to place a certain sanitary absorbant device in your underroos to avoid any evidence of “accidents”.
    Nobody but you and Gawd has to know it’s there… unless you have an accident, of course. ROFLMAO.

  • HollyB

    I know you’re a Manly Man, Ambo Driver, but for occasions like you just described it might be wise to place a certain sanitary absorbant device in your underroos to avoid any evidence of “accidents”. Nobody but you and Gawd has to know it’s there… unless you have an accident, of course. ROFLMAO.

  • Ambulance Driver

    Good thought there, Holly. Not being well-versed in Things Feminine Hygiene, what would you recommend?

    With wings or, without?

    Do they have them impregnated with Aloe? My hindparts are sensitive.

    Perhaps I should do some comparison shopping.

  • Ambulance Driver

    Good thought there, Holly. Not being well-versed in Things Feminine Hygiene, what would you recommend? With wings or, without?Do they have them impregnated with Aloe? My hindparts are sensitive.Perhaps I should do some comparison shopping.

  • garys

    I guess the answer all depends, Ambulance Driver.

    Get it?

    Gary

  • garys

    I guess the answer all depends, Ambulance Driver. Get it? Gary

  • mr fixit

    Ah, the things they can never teach to the young guys. Some things you just have to learn about with experience.
    Good thing your partner has you as an example, even if it is sometimes an example of what NOT to do.
    Dang I wish I would have got to meet you at the EMS conference.
    Mr Fixit

  • mr fixit

    Ah, the things they can never teach to the young guys. Some things you just have to learn about with experience.Good thing your partner has you as an example, even if it is sometimes an example of what NOT to do.Dang I wish I would have got to meet you at the EMS conference.Mr Fixit

  • Anonymous

    Reminds me of the time I used the epsom salts as a laxative. The directions are right on the container. . . .

    What they fail to mention is that it is a laxative to be used to prepare for gastric surgery, when you need to insure that there’s nothing except maybe a trickle of clear water in the colon. Good thing I didn’t use it myself. My best friend will never be the same, and the look on his face when he sees epsom salts in the grocery store is the textbook definition of “shock and awe”.

    Formerflyer

  • Anonymous

    Reminds me of the time I used the epsom salts as a laxative. The directions are right on the container. . . . What they fail to mention is that it is a laxative to be used to prepare for gastric surgery, when you need to insure that there’s nothing except maybe a trickle of clear water in the colon. Good thing I didn’t use it myself. My best friend will never be the same, and the look on his face when he sees epsom salts in the grocery store is the textbook definition of “shock and awe”.Formerflyer

  • Janean

    You know, Us “Ambulance Patrons” and common folk don’t think of things like that.
    Hmmmm, Yah. I suppose EMS personnel have to go potty, too. :D
    Man, I am laughing so hard my coworkers think I’ve gone wacky!
    I can’t wait till I’ve saved up enough to buy your book.
    I can read it while I’m sitting….ummmm…forget it. :D

  • Janean

    You know, Us “Ambulance Patrons” and common folk don’t think of things like that. Hmmmm, Yah. I suppose EMS personnel have to go potty, too. :DMan, I am laughing so hard my coworkers think I’ve gone wacky!I can’t wait till I’ve saved up enough to buy your book. I can read it while I’m sitting….ummmm…forget it. :D

  • Billy Sparks

    Years ago running a late night sick call my left contact popped out while enroute. First it was bad to drive one eyed but when I got ot the scene God love me, the patient had saline.

  • Billy Sparks

    Years ago running a late night sick call my left contact popped out while enroute. First it was bad to drive one eyed but when I got ot the scene God love me, the patient had saline.

  • HollyB

    AD,
    I’d go w/ the wings for the extra protection they provide. The overnight variety is also larger and thus covers a larger area of vulnerability.
    No pads come w/ aloe. But I’d recommend Desetin applied w/ a Qtip or a finger protected by a finger cot or glove.
    That’ll be $.25. Should I just put it on your account or wait until you’ve built up enough that I can have a free copy of your book?

  • HollyB

    AD, I’d go w/ the wings for the extra protection they provide. The overnight variety is also larger and thus covers a larger area of vulnerability. No pads come w/ aloe. But I’d recommend Desetin applied w/ a Qtip or a finger protected by a finger cot or glove. That’ll be $.25. Should I just put it on your account or wait until you’ve built up enough that I can have a free copy of your book?

  • Anonymous

    LAUGHING. SO. HARD. CAN. HARDLY. GET. THIS. TYPED.

    TWO WORDS: digestive enzymes

  • Anonymous

    LAUGHING. SO. HARD. CAN. HARDLY. GET. THIS. TYPED.TWO WORDS: digestive enzymes

  • Anonymous

    Thanks to the link to your “last book” as well as for a really good laugh.

    The book is on order, I’m looking forward to reading it, and will just happen to have it handy when my un-focused 20 year old grandson comes to visit. I’m sure your exciting tales of heroic derring-do will motivate him to follow in your footsteps.

    Well — maybe not.

    Old Fud

  • Anonymous

    Thanks to the link to your “last book” as well as for a really good laugh.The book is on order, I’m looking forward to reading it, and will just happen to have it handy when my un-focused 20 year old grandson comes to visit. I’m sure your exciting tales of heroic derring-do will motivate him to follow in your footsteps. Well — maybe not.Old Fud

  • Anonymous

    ROFL.

    Fiber is your friend.

    Be sure to at least eat a high-fiber breakfast before you go to work, it helps. A high fiber diet turns your poop into a solid yet easily shittable consistancy. You might want to change at least one of those fast-food meals into something with more fiber too. Look around for a place that sells various sallads maybe?

  • Anonymous

    ROFL.Fiber is your friend.Be sure to at least eat a high-fiber breakfast before you go to work, it helps. A high fiber diet turns your poop into a solid yet easily shittable consistancy. You might want to change at least one of those fast-food meals into something with more fiber too. Look around for a place that sells various sallads maybe?

  • Ambulance Driver

    Anonymous said:

    “Fiber is your friend.

    Be sure to at least eat a high-fiber breakfast before you go to work, it helps. A high fiber diet turns your poop into a solid yet easily shittable consistancy.”

    Ye Gods! You mean the corn tortilla isn’t enough fiber? Next you’ll be telling me that the pickles and lettuce in a cheeseburger don’t count!

    Like any EMT, I eat liberal helpings from the four major food groups – Caffeine, Lard, Meat, and Chocolate.

    Taco Bell is just my weakness. I can’t kick the habit. Even now, I’m jonesing for a 1/2 pound beef combo burrito with extra sour cream, even knowing I’ll be able to lay on my stomach and shit into a martin box afterward.

  • Ambulance Driver

    Anonymous said:”Fiber is your friend.Be sure to at least eat a high-fiber breakfast before you go to work, it helps. A high fiber diet turns your poop into a solid yet easily shittable consistancy.”Ye Gods! You mean the corn tortilla isn’t enough fiber? Next you’ll be telling me that the pickles and lettuce in a cheeseburger don’t count!Like any EMT, I eat liberal helpings from the four major food groups – Caffeine, Lard, Meat, and Chocolate.Taco Bell is just my weakness. I can’t kick the habit. Even now, I’m jonesing for a 1/2 pound beef combo burrito with extra sour cream, even knowing I’ll be able to lay on my stomach and shit into a martin box afterward.

  • Recovering Paramedic

    Truly an asset to the profession. I wonder what the FCC would think about your radio broadcast?

    If I was in your partner’s shoes I probably would have done the same thing.

  • Recovering Paramedic

    Truly an asset to the profession. I wonder what the FCC would think about your radio broadcast?If I was in your partner’s shoes I probably would have done the same thing.

  • Ambulance Driver

    Hey Recovering Paramedic?

    It’s so hard to tell over the net whether someone is speaking tongue in cheek. So if you were, I appreciate the sarcasm.

    If those were straight lines…bite me. You have some more recovering to do. Perhaps the therapist can help you find your sense of humor.

  • Ambulance Driver

    Hey Recovering Paramedic?It’s so hard to tell over the net whether someone is speaking tongue in cheek. So if you were, I appreciate the sarcasm.If those were straight lines…bite me. You have some more recovering to do. Perhaps the therapist can help you find your sense of humor.

  • angelmedic13

    I am a two year “veteran” medic and hallelujah for working toilets!! I laughed so hard I cried and plan to share it with our service here. Keep the stories coming!p.s. wings ARE the best!!angelmedic13

  • angelmedic13

    I am a two year “veteran” medic and hallelujah for working toilets!! I laughed so hard I cried and plan to share it with our service here. Keep the stories coming!p.s. wings ARE the best!!angelmedic13

  • Anonymous

    ROFLMAO…….AD only you would continue to eat TACO HELL…..thank God you where on your pizza and wink kick when I was around…..Oh since someone else mentioned it, it don’t have to be a female product. They make those for men too, I know you love to shop WalMart..you can find it in the HAB section.Huggles Rookie

  • Anonymous

    ROFLMAO…….AD only you would continue to eat TACO HELL…..thank God you where on your pizza and wink kick when I was around…..Oh since someone else mentioned it, it don’t have to be a female product. They make those for men too, I know you love to shop WalMart..you can find it in the HAB section.Huggles Rookie

  • sb_medic

    I’m so sorry I just now surfed across this blog! Awesome stuff, and I feel ya Bro, been doing this for 5 years plus, thank god we have three hospitals here. I tend to rotate toilets between them after calls, lol.

  • sb_medic

    I’m so sorry I just now surfed across this blog! Awesome stuff, and I feel ya Bro, been doing this for 5 years plus, thank god we have three hospitals here. I tend to rotate toilets between them after calls, lol.

  • sb_medic

    I’m so sorry I just now surfed across this blog! Awesome stuff, and I feel ya Bro, been doing this for 5 years plus, thank god we have three hospitals here. I tend to rotate toilets between them after calls, lol.

  • sb_medic

    I’m so sorry I just now surfed across this blog! Awesome stuff, and I feel ya Bro, been doing this for 5 years plus, thank god we have three hospitals here. I tend to rotate toilets between them after calls, lol.

  • Cdn.medic

    Can always get the partner back with the post- Taco Schmell gas :P.. that’s always amusing (not that id know from experience or anything, hehe *acts innocent*)

  • Cdn.medic

    Can always get the partner back with the post- Taco Schmell gas :P.. that’s always amusing (not that id know from experience or anything, hehe *acts innocent*)

  • Cdn.medic

    Can always get the partner back with the post- Taco Schmell gas :P.. that’s always amusing (not that id know from experience or anything, hehe *acts innocent*)

  • Cdn.medic

    Can always get the partner back with the post- Taco Schmell gas :P.. that’s always amusing (not that id know from experience or anything, hehe *acts innocent*)

  • saengerin

    Just discovered your blog…was so amused to find you’re from South Louisiana, so am I….and even more amused to see the name “Dusty Jensen”, a boy I dated for a short while when living in Shreveport. Small world. Came to you via MDOD.

  • saengerin

    Just discovered your blog…was so amused to find you’re from South Louisiana, so am I….and even more amused to see the name “Dusty Jensen”, a boy I dated for a short while when living in Shreveport. Small world. Came to you via MDOD.

  • saengerin

    Just discovered your blog…was so amused to find you’re from South Louisiana, so am I….and even more amused to see the name “Dusty Jensen”, a boy I dated for a short while when living in Shreveport. Small world. Came to you via MDOD.

  • saengerin

    Just discovered your blog…was so amused to find you’re from South Louisiana, so am I….and even more amused to see the name “Dusty Jensen”, a boy I dated for a short while when living in Shreveport. Small world. Came to you via MDOD.

  • Delivery boy

    Good stuff – I laughed so had I almost sh*t myself…ironic isn’t it? Reminds me of the call where my partner was in the can longer than it took for the patient to be assessed and released….we almost had to call rescue and he is not allowed to use the facilities at that ER again.

  • Delivery boy

    Good stuff – I laughed so had I almost sh*t myself…ironic isn’t it? Reminds me of the call where my partner was in the can longer than it took for the patient to be assessed and released….we almost had to call rescue and he is not allowed to use the facilities at that ER again.

  • Delivery boy

    Good stuff – I laughed so had I almost sh*t myself…ironic isn’t it? Reminds me of the call where my partner was in the can longer than it took for the patient to be assessed and released….we almost had to call rescue and he is not allowed to use the facilities at that ER again.

  • Delivery boy

    Good stuff – I laughed so had I almost sh*t myself…ironic isn’t it? Reminds me of the call where my partner was in the can longer than it took for the patient to be assessed and released….we almost had to call rescue and he is not allowed to use the facilities at that ER again.

  • CountyRat

    Loperamide.Learn it. Love it. Live it.(The liquid absorbs more quickly than the tablets.)

  • CountyRat

    Loperamide.Learn it. Love it. Live it.(The liquid absorbs more quickly than the tablets.)

  • CountyRat

    Loperamide.Learn it. Love it. Live it.(The liquid absorbs more quickly than the tablets.)

  • CountyRat

    Loperamide.Learn it. Love it. Live it.(The liquid absorbs more quickly than the tablets.)

  • Anonymous

    Hope you have liability insurance. I have busted a seam laughing since I started reading. You really do have a talent for spreading the bull.Nice job!

  • Anonymous

    Hope you have liability insurance. I have busted a seam laughing since I started reading. You really do have a talent for spreading the bull.Nice job!

  • Anonymous

    Hope you have liability insurance. I have busted a seam laughing since I started reading. You really do have a talent for spreading the bull.Nice job!

  • Anonymous

    Hope you have liability insurance. I have busted a seam laughing since I started reading. You really do have a talent for spreading the bull.Nice job!

  • Wendy Hoechstetter, Allied Member ASID

    ROF,LOL! I have *soooo* been there myself. Thanks for the trip down memory lane.As to the rookie, he’ll definitely get his. And let’s just say I didn’t eat fast food again for *four full years* after I ran my last call after about a decade on the street.

  • Wendy Hoechstetter, Allied Member ASID

    ROF,LOL! I have *soooo* been there myself. Thanks for the trip down memory lane.As to the rookie, he’ll definitely get his. And let’s just say I didn’t eat fast food again for *four full years* after I ran my last call after about a decade on the street.

  • Wendy Hoechstetter, Allied Mem

    ROF,LOL! I have *soooo* been there myself. Thanks for the trip down memory lane.As to the rookie, he’ll definitely get his. And let’s just say I didn’t eat fast food again for *four full years* after I ran my last call after about a decade on the street.

  • Wendy Hoechstetter, Allied Mem

    ROF,LOL! I have *soooo* been there myself. Thanks for the trip down memory lane.As to the rookie, he’ll definitely get his. And let’s just say I didn’t eat fast food again for *four full years* after I ran my last call after about a decade on the street.

  • Anonymous

    lol – we call it toxic hell for a reason ! I have to admit though, I was laughing all the way with this one !

  • Anonymous

    lol – we call it toxic hell for a reason ! I have to admit though, I was laughing all the way with this one !

  • http://windingroad.typepad.com/ jaye

    My husband had gastric by-pass ( Biliopancreatic Diversion with Duodneal switch for the overly interested) and now we plan for bathroom breaks during Taco Bell or much more expensive fair. He is 170 pounds lighter, no diabetes, no high blood pressure.

    I will not be a young widow.

    Poop happens. I imagine that poop happens to people you strap to stretchers, too.

    You write like a dream.

  • http://windingroad.typepad.com/ jaye

    My husband had gastric by-pass ( Biliopancreatic Diversion with Duodneal switch for the overly interested) and now we plan for bathroom breaks during Taco Bell or much more expensive fair. He is 170 pounds lighter, no diabetes, no high blood pressure.

    I will not be a young widow.

    Poop happens. I imagine that poop happens to people you strap to stretchers, too.

    You write like a dream.

  • TOgden

    Only got on to your blog within the last year so am catching up – this is one of the funniest pieces I have ever read – thanks for taking the time to write :-)

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