Red Sheets

It is mid afternoon and the cool breeze is blowing in so gently. I watch you sleeping, lying there, peacefully sleeping. The deep red sheets against your slightly tanned body. Your beauty radiating while you lie there sleeping. Your hair is against your cheek, eyes are closed, I can see you breathing. Your arms wrapped around the pillow, holding tightly against your body, as if it were me. Your bare back exposed, your succulent shoulder blades, prominent, sexy, attractive. Your leg pokes out of the red and onto another pillow, comfortable, wrapped around it. Your sexy bare leg, buttocks sticking from your lower shorts. So peaceful, wanting to climb on top of you, make love to you. Explicit thoughts of what I want to do racing through my mind. Then I slowly approach the bed, pause, wanting to touch you. Wanting to crawl into those sheets and wrap my arm and leg around you, making you my pillow.

Instead I stand there, watching you sleep, resisting my temptations.

Just open the god damn door!

Locked in a small container, confined, wishing you could escape. Barely enough room to move, slightly twisting to rid yourself of that uncomfortable feeling, however the slightest move, you feel trapped.

The air is thick and hard to breathe, you are breathing warm moist air, the air you body has exhaled. Sweat begins to run across your brow, beading, dripping, running down the side of your face. You begin to feel the sweat bead and then trickle down the spine of your back. Your limbs become achy due to the confined feeling, the lack of being able to move. As the time passes, the air becomes warmer and warmer, not hot, definitely uncomfortable.

Now you begin to feel more anxious, hoping that someone will open the container and let you out, if it were only that simple. Our pulse begins pounding, feeling it in your ears, across your temple. The throat begins to get dry like cotton, making it difficult to swallow. Meanwhile your pulse is bounding harder, like the beat of a drum. Your body dripping sweat, as if you were in steam room. Seeing the veins on your hands stand out like a man nailed to a cross. Your body is screaming for help, that one breath of fresh cool air. Wondering if you will ever escape the mess that your in. Your mind thinking, wondering, hoping, wishing for some answers. Knowing that all it will take is for someone to open the door to the container. Letting us breathe, allowing us the opportunity to escape.

Instead we lie there helpless, screaming out for help, "Just open the god damn door."

The wound

The wound is gaping open, blood spills out, running onto the floor. Initially we apply direct pressure to it, the dressing is becoming soaked. We add more dressings to the wound and it continues to bleed. It slows it down, we are concerned, still bleeding, not coagulating.

We rush to the emergency room hoping that they can help. The doctor notices how large the wound is, and even the doctor is unsure whether he can stop the bleeding. They continue to add dressings to the wound, slowing it down.

In the meantime we begin to feel weak. We can feel the pain of the wound, the dressing help a bit, however, every time they change a dressing it opens up and the air stings our flesh. We look down at the wound and the sight of the large gaping whole is not as large as it feels. It still is going to leave a big scar, I just hope the bleeding stops.

Suddenly the doctor takes his syringe and starts injecting lydocaine into the wound so he can begin the tedious job of sewing up that large whole. I feel the needle piercing my open flesh, the pain is unbearable. Soon after I become numb, not feeling a thing. He is now sewing the wound closed, I don't feel a thing. Just thinking about the scar it will leave behind. Wondering what people will think when they see me.

Leaving a lasting impression of the things that I have done.

This is what I live for!!!

Passion, Dedication, Knowledge, Pride, Integrity, Tradition, all of these are words associated with firefighting. Someone recently asked me to talk about firefighting. I will try my best attempt do so, however, it is just a job that challenges us.

Like I said, being a firefighter is a job, but you have to be passionate about it. You have live it, breathe it, and be in love with it. It seems quirky to say that, being said in the movie "Backdraft" and all. It is very true, I once was told by a very special person, " Someday I hope you love me as much as you love your job!" Lets think about that, very strong words when a person is about to get married. 13 years later I still remember that very day. In fact I remember putting off to go see the minister to set up the wedding, all for a structure fire.

To some people that may seem a bit radical. Think about the situations that we are sent into, maybe just a bit radical don't you think. The statement that these guys are rushing in as people are rushing out. A big reason why 115 people die every year in the line of duty, not counting those that die from occupational cancers. Thank god for unions that fight for workers rights, otherwise cancer would not be recognized.

The firefighters are called when someones world has just took a shit on them. The men and women who do this job are expected to fix it, even if they can't. That is what I live for, that moment when I can walk into someones life and possibly fix or help them in a time of need. Being the person that reaches out with that helping hand. Whether it be running into a burning building or assisting at a motor vehicle accident. Even something as simple as changing a battery in smoke detector. We are called for many things, basically when you don't know who to call, people call us. Some things you just have to take as a grain of salt.

With good also comes the bad, which I have written about before. Somewhat you are the bearer of bad news. Cutting a dead body out of mangled car, doing CPR on a dad before his daughters wedding. Many times people ask what is the worst thing I have ever seen, do they really want to know? I see lots of bad things, and I really don't want to share the horrible things that I have seen. Hell a few years back I had to deal with three suicides in three shifts, thanks have a nice day. Fucking nosey people is all have to say about that.

Yes this is what I live for. The moment that I can walk into someones life and possibly fix or help them in the time of need. If you knew me, you would definitely say that I am passionate about my job. Passionate about the people in my life, life is short, have fun, and live it to the fullest. Passionate for the best job in the world, I am living my dream.

Help Me!

Sometimes in life we take a hard fall, hoping that no one saw us, we try to get up quickly. We are standing on fragile ice, trying to be careful, not to crack it and fall in to the icy water. Suddenly the ice breaks and we fall into the freezing water. We are hanging on with our arms, unable to lift ourselves back onto the ice. Every time we do the ice breaks more. Now our legs begin to feel numb, we begin to feel fatigued, tired, like we can't go on anymore. Waiting and wondering if anyone will come to our rescue. Just give me something to hang on to, a rope, ladder, even hope would be enough. Somehow you find strength to try again. With no luck we are stuck, waiting for that glimmer of hope that somehow or someway we will be rescued. Will we drown if no one comes to our aid. We begin to realize that water is no longer cold, we just don't feel it any longer. Our breathing slows, we try to rest, hoping and waiting.

Dying

Imagine yourself being trapped, your lost, and now you can't find your way out. It is hot, your confused, and the noise around you makes it impossible to get someones attention. You feel your heart begin to race, you begin to feel anxious, breathing faster. Breathing faster lessens your time of survival. You are breathing off a tank of air and your time is limited. You crawl on your belly to a wall, feeling for window to escape. Never feeling that window you go to the next room. Still no window you keep crawling, you feel like you have gone in complete circles. You are now very disorientated, you can't think straight. Now the bell and vibrating face piece have stopped, and through your training you know that you have less than a minute. You turn yourself, so that your feet are against the wall, you kick backwards like a donkey. Making a hole in the wall so that you can escape to the outside, instead your in a closet. Every breath your mask gets tighter to your face, no more air for the taking. If you take your mask off it will be complete smoke, it will choke you and you will pass out. The natural thing to do is to take off your mask. Otherwise you can't breathe at all, just make it quick you pray. You pull your radio to your face, you take off your mask, MAYDAY, MAYDAY, MAYDAY. I am out of air.....tell my family I love them. On the radio you hear where are you? You hit your emergency alarm on your air tank, and the smoke burns your lungs. Tears come to your eyes, knowing that your children will never see their father again. Your now choking and soon it will be over. Those last seconds of life, so many things go through your head, slowly everything fades away.

Firefighting

We arrived back to the station to eat lunch. The bag of burritos was placed on the table, and the guys milled around the kitchen getting drinks. The firefighters took their usual places at the table, just like people do at home. The officer takes his position and the others follow like children. The senior firefighter turns on the television, appropriately selecting the noon news. Not wasting time they quickly began to shovel the food into bodies. Knowing that at a moments notice they can called away from their warm meal. The officer finished and dismissed himself from the table and began to clean the kitchen. Others had partially eaten their meals when the alarm sounded. A few extra bites were taken to ensure that their station was not due. The word structure fire and food was dropped, left behind in piles around the table. Shoes were kicked off their feet as they climbed into their gear. Encapsulating their bodies, not leaving any skin exposed to the elements they were about to endure.

As the ladder truck rolled through the community you could see the smoke rising in the distance. Cars pulling out of their way, for the exception of that one asshole that thinks his day is more important than the ladder truck. Sirens blaring like a small child when his toys are ruined. Air horns blasting, clearing a path to maneuver through. Vehicles begin to part, leaving them like the wake that a boat leaves behind. As the ladder truck rounds the corner the fire insight, smoke billowing. Smoke colors changing rapidly, pushing, chugging, blackened like a steam locomotive building speed.

As the firefighters depart the vehicle, smoke perforates their senses. They appeared like a team approaches the playing field. Sizing up their opponent, ready for the battle of their lives. Approaching the doorway, smoke lay on the floor. Hose leads the way and disappears like a road in to the fog. Before their masks are placed on their faces, they can taste the smoke as it burns their lungs. As if claws had just shred their throat and the blood trickles into their lungs. Masks are on now as they enter the building, listening and feeling their way to the fire. Heat intensifies the closer they get, pushing them down onto their bellies. Crawling beneath the devil, trying to escape his strong hold. Crackling is heard above them, the smoke begins to dissipate as they reach the seed of the fire. Engine company members use their hose, in comparison of the knight using his sword to slay the dragon. And then in the shadows of the orange glow is the silhouette of lifeless man and wife.

Hearts pounding in their chests, and a lumps in their throat. First the woman and then the man, they removed them as fast as they can. Through the smoke and to the lawn, exhausted they came to a rest. Medics rushed to their aid, firefighters pushed aside. Anguish on their faces, knowing the outcome of their sacrifices. Feeling empty, like a ball player missing the winning shot. Hearing sorrow, screams, and disappointment in the crowd that goatherd to watch the game. Knowing that they are the hero's that will get the blame.