Jun 30 2009

Ready to return?

Tag: AmbulanceKal @ 11:32 pm

The foam on the chair isn’t all that thick, the paintings are fairly bland. A sign on the wall tells me that my ECG will be shared with my GP, unless I request otherwise.

I’m not here for an ECG.

I’ve been off work since the beginning of May. The pain in my shoulder and back has eased to a constant stiff ache. I flex and stretch the muscles around my scapula each day, just as my physio taught me.

I’m making progress, getting better, slowly. Silly wee things are a big deal. A month ago I struggled to carry a basket of laundry up and down stairs. Now I’m such a big tough guy I can carry laundry that’s wet.

Yeah.

Check me out.

I am not a small bloke, nor would I describe myself as a physically weak person. Working for theatre companies I took pride in carrying bigger, heavier loads than my colleagues during setting and striking for performances.

My strength defined me, it was part of my identity. When I struggled with my role in a group, I knew I could fall back on being the big lunk that lifted and carried more, further.

Today I sat in a consulting room while a doctor from Occupational Health gently quizzed me about the crash, my injuries, my physio.

“Do you feel ready to return to work?”

I talked to her about muscle stiffness when I woke up, explained that I was getting better, but slower than I’d hoped. I told her I wasn’t sure I could lift the weights I’d have to if I was to return to full duties at this time.

She made some notes, looked up from the desk and asked me…

“And how does that make you feel?”

I started to answer and found myself saying things out loud that, previously, I’d only thought about. I’d ignored the wee voice in my head, but now it poured out.

I’m scared of going back to work. I’m scared of lifting someone or something that’s heavier than I thought. I’m scared of ripping the muscles between my shoulder blades like the seam on a cheap jacket.

I think about the night I shoved my shoulder under the hip of a woman too fat to walk and too dying to help herself, pushing like a rugby prop to roll her onto the trolley.

I think about rolling and bumping an old man with a tombstoning M.I. down the stairs of his tenement, leaning back from the handle to slow the speed of his descent.

I think about shoving a piss-head scrote with a kitchen knife backwards, locking his arms up behind him, pinning him to the floor.

I think about chest compressions en route to hospital, hanging with one hand from the nylon straps in the roof.

Mostly I think about dropping patients. I think about spinal patients on long boards, I see my end of the board slipping out of my hands. I see overweight patients waiting for a second crew to come along and bail me out because I don’t trust myself to carry half their weight.

I tell the doctor this. She slides a box of tissues across the desk at me and tells me to take my time.

She asks if I worry about driving on blue lights again. If I have concerns about psychological stress from the crash.

I tell her no, I’m fine.

“So why the tears?”

Touché.

She lays out a plan for me, tells me to return to work, to talk to colleagues.

She is amazing.

I have a plan.


Jun 27 2009

Intermission

Tag: Away from homeKal @ 5:48 pm

Away from the desk in Staffordshire at the moment, taking photos for a first aid event, will tell you more about it once I’m home. Am blogging on phone from below tree in nice camp site, lovely folk, nice weather, no media. Has anyone shut up about Michael Jackson yet?


Jun 26 2009

Sleep and seagulls.

Tag: JournalKal @ 12:35 am

My relationship with sleep has become…odd. I’m accustomed to sleep being an exhausted plummet into oblivion at the end of a shift. Sleep, work, sleep, work, sleep, work, sleep…four days off. I loved my perfectly broken circadian rhythms.

Now when I go to bed, I lack the devastating exhaustion of a twelve hour shift. I lie awake for an hour or so before drifting into an uneasy sleep for the night.

Things are not helped by the warm weather. I like my bedroom *cold*, I want my duvet to serve its purpose, to snuggle up under. There’s no point sleeping without covers, that’s just retarded.

So I have my window open, all the time. This has a number of problems, one of which is the air-conditioning unit that runs for the pub downstairs. Its breathy hum is always there, so much so that its absence disturbs me more than when it kicks in, a motor whine as the beast spins up.

The seagulls are another matter - nesting on the roofs of my building and the surrounding tenements, they’ve had babies. The babies whistle and whine at their parents, the parents call back to them to reassure them that Mum and Dad are nearby. The jackdaws that nest in the gardens in the centre of my block like to wind the seagulls up, the seagulls like to respond by screaming at them, swooping past my window and cackling at the top of their voices.

Last night one of my neighbours opened her window at 4am and shouted into the night.

“Would you fucking seagulls fucking shut the fuck up?”

They ignored her.
j


Jun 24 2009

Handover

Tag: Handover July 09Kal @ 9:27 am

I’ve been invited by the chaps over at The Handover to host July’s edition of this blog carnival. I am frequently thrilled and humbled by the writers who read and comment here on Trauma Queen and would love to showcase some of your stuff.

The theme for my collection of posts is “Pivotal Moment” - if you have a post you feel fits the theme, or (even better) you’d like to write something on the subject, then please email it on to the usual address (kalATtraumaqueenDOTnet) before the 27th of July.

This month’s edition was hosted by BasicsDoc, swing by and take a look; there was a real variety of stuff written for him. I’m sure, with my delightful rag-tag band of nutters, skanks and radges* that we can come up with a collection of posts to remember.

Now, go! Get writing!

*(you know I’m only joking, Kal loves you all, you’re my special skanky radgey nutty schnookums and I’d be nothing without you)


Jun 21 2009

For NurseBear, Liz and Mercury

Tag: Photo Challenge, Photos, PhotographyKal @ 4:50 pm

Who wanted a self-portrait and pictures of the Forth Rail Bridge, respectively.

This is an utter cheat. I didn’t take the picture, so it’s not a self portrait, and since it’s not my photo I can’t credit for how hot the bridge looks against that sky.

Credit for this shot goes to Dave who I met along with HKP and ZZathras777 at a “Strobists Meet” in South Queensferry the other day - something I’ve been intending to do for months and never got round to. Special thanks to HPK and ZZ for turning what should have been a relaxing evening for them taking pictures into a training sessions, teaching Dave and I about the kit and letting us play. Very kind indeed.

Now then….time to buy some flashes..

View On Black


Jun 19 2009

Daily Mail

Tag: PishKal @ 1:45 pm

The Daily Mail is, for those of you outside the UK, the amongst the most horrendous “But we’re just being reasonable” right-wing trash that is propagated in the UK media.

They’re running a poll today “Should the NHS allow gipsies (sic) to jump the queue?

Vote “yes” to fuck up their poll
. I just did.


Jun 18 2009

For Sewmouse

Tag: Photo Challenge, Photos, PhotographyKal @ 2:19 pm

Who requested “The silliest thing in your flat.”

I introduce you to the Cubby of Kitsch, a collection of ephemera and trash; each with a story.

Top shelf, far left - a tile from my parent’s house; its a solid chunk of childhood nostalgia.

In front of the tile - a chunk of firework housing from a shell that exploded low. This triangle of debris spun through the air and caught me *chung* in the visor I thankfully had lowered over my face.

To the right - 1950s cocktail shaker, a present from an old friend on my 18th birthday.

To the right, a plastic Greek soldier called Stavros - he used to be the dashboard ornament on my first car.

To the right, a wee plastic boat. The two funnels pop out and are in fact salt and pepper shakers.

To the right, microscope - belonged to my uncle and started me out with an interest in life sciences.

To the right, FiFi, the award for an annual quiz held up in the Highlands.

Bottom shelf left to right.

Magic 8 ball.

Fifi’s puppy, whose name I forget. I’m meant to be dressing them up as Edinburgh neds and returning them.

Terrible pirate head made from a chunk of coconut husk. Brought back from someone’s holiday. I love shit souvenirs.

Tiny wee figure I made in high school. I took pottery classes for a while, spent most of my time there resenting the other kids, so made a wee pissed off manny.

Terrible cheap knife in bejeweled scabbard. The scabbard has a wanking wizard on it. I think Giles brought this home for me from the Dominican Republic.

Jaws of something…again, belonging to the science uncle.

View On White


Jun 18 2009

For Ladyk73

Tag: Photo Challenge, Photos, PhotographyKal @ 2:10 pm

Who requested “A gnome looking up a skirt or kilt”

Serendipitously, I caught this dirty wee bastard getting an eyeful this morning. I’m thinking I might banish him to live with GreyFriars Bobby.

View On White


Jun 18 2009

For Cathryn

Tag: Photo Challenge, Photos, PhotographyKal @ 1:10 pm

Cathryn is, apparently, missing her Chinese Calum fix…so here we go. What a butch little cowboy CC makes.

(Luvgugs, I’ll make it up to you)

View On White


Jun 18 2009

For Sewmouse

Tag: Photo Challenge, Photos, PhotographyKal @ 1:08 pm

Sewmouse wanted the inside of a nee-naw.

Duly taken.

This is the back of an “Urgent Tier” vehicle, it handles medical cases and GP calls for transport. Crewed by a paramedic and a blue-light-trained Care Assistant.

View On White


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