Too much like my Father...

When most people think of their Father, regardless of whether their parents are still together or not, they think of a man they love and couldn't imagine a life without them.  Mine was the exact opposite.  In my perception, the man was a sperm donor as well as an example of EVERYTHING a person should never be.  I gained this perception at a very young age.  It was really simple, as he didn't hide his selfish habits or shortcomings from just about anybody.  It was easy to know that he was shady, on drugs, and dishonorable.  I've been commended for having an intelligence that developed at a very young age at a very rapid rate.  Unfortunately, a setback of that is having memories from an extremely young age.  I have a memory when I was two, and dad had me for the day.  He took me to his friend's house.  His friend's girlfriend attempted (unsuccessfully) to distract me while they layed out, cut, and snorted multiple lines of cocaine in front of me.

Fast forward 29 years.  My Father is dead.  He died of lung cancer at the age of fifty-fucking-four due to lung cancer from habitual drug use throughout his entire adult life.  The news reached me while living temporarily in Colorado with my best friend, Markus.  Sure, I cried.  It wasn't because I had lost a loved one.  I didn't love my Father anymore.  That love died when I became old enough to realize what a fucking joke his life was.  I had LONG moved on.  I did, however, feel a sense of loss.  I cried for a sense of loss of the chance to grow into the man he could never be, and show him the example of what he should have always been for me.  I cried out of anger, because I never told him how I truly felt about him.  I cried my tears, processed the death, and moved on in my own time.  In his case, this took a total of about three hours, maybe a bit less.  That was it, I'd moved on.

Here's the problem.  The older I get, the more things within my life and my personality I can find that are similar to him.  I have a hard time knowing how to be social without having drinks with friends.  I had an EXTENDED phase where I was quite the fan of partying and drugs, just like him.  It started when I was 18 with ecstasy, and changed as I "grew up" until I had myself a complete appreciation for fine cocaine.  Luckily, I was born with a genetic defect which caused me to have epilepsy.  Cocaine and epilepsy are highly incompatible, so I never developed any severe addictions, and was able to maintain a "simply social" habit.  I was really good at convincing myself of that anyway.

What scares me the most isn't my former drug issues, even though drug issues are ultimately what caused the death of my Father.  It's the fact that I'm 31 years old, and just found out that my professional path has been essentially reset due to issues involving my epilepsy.  I have been uninsured for a period of time, which caused me to lapse on my seizure medications for some time.  As a result I had a string of several SEVERE seizures in a short period of time.  These incidences were report to the EMS board and as a result my ability to work in the field (on any ambulance) has been stripped indefinitely.  I am now confined to hospital ER's, med/surg floors, and clinics.  Square one professionally, eh?

It also haunts me that since October of 2011, I've required constant assistance from family and friends to eat, play, or even LIVE.  I am fortunate enough to have a very large and amazing circle of friends that I love very much, and who love me very much in return.  They are true friends, who have extended every courtesy to help me through "tough times" but I still find myself back at square one.  I've got to wonder how much of my hardship is circumstantial, as I've convinced myself, and how much is influential, as I've caused myself based on my own life decisions.

The bottom line is this.  I LOVE who I am as a person, but I could stand for SO much improvement.  Moreover, while I may love who I am, I don't love where I'm at in life.  I'm afraid of where I'm going because I don't like where I've been.  I can never thank those who love and have helped me enough, but it's time to help myself.  What scares me is that it's become second nature to be thankful and show gratitude for help from others.  What I need to be doing is strengthening my own game, so I don't need that help from others.  I need to be unlike my Father, I need to be my own man, I need to be self-sufficient.  I don't know how I'm going to get there, but I'm going to do it by and for myself.  I will not let myself become my Father, ever...

What is a protector, lifesaver, a HERO worth?

WHAT IS A FIREFIGHTER WORTH??

There has been so much talk recently about things like containing costs, lowering taxes, and those who work in public safety being overpaid - particularly firefighters - that it could make your head spin. We’ve all done the “simple math,” crunched the numbers, and it all seems to boil down to a simple question. What are firefighters worth? 

I guess that depends. We live in a country that seems to have forgotten what our priorities are. A man can be a skilled athlete who happens to throw and catch a football well, and make millions and millions of dollars to do so. And we as a society are not only OK with that, but we gather in front of our televisions and cheer that man on. Meanwhile, a firefighter kisses his children goodbye before every shift knowing the harsh reality that it very well could be the last time he will see them, and he is fighting tooth and nail for decent health coverage and substantial pay to support those children.

He is the man that you call when your elderly father has a stroke. He is the person that will extract your 16-year-old son from a mangled vehicle on the highway in the middle of the night. He is the person that will be there in a heartbeat when your newborn infant stops breathing. He is the person who is exposed to countless dangerous scenarios and has seen horrific things during his career that would psychologically haunt most of us for the rest of our lives. We trust him to save our homes and belongings in the event of a disastrous fire, and we trust him to keep us breathing and our hearts beating when we face our most critical moments. What is he worth to you?

He sometimes will go days without sleep, and make life altering decisions on every call he shows up to. He has missed family meals, bedtime stories, Christmas mornings, school plays, anniversaries, Thanksgiving dinners, and his own children’s birthdays. We all know that life is so very short, and firefighters sacrifice precious time with the most important people in their lives to save the lives of the most important people in yours. And now they have to defend and protect their pensions, well deserved health benefits, and their paychecks. It has been proposed by some that they lose many of their benefits, and work extra shifts that they will not be compensated for. There seems to be a serious misconception that firefighters are in it for the monetary gain, and more and more often have been portrayed in a negative light for actually expecting to be compensated for the sacrifices that they make to do their job. For an individual that has chosen this selfless career, it begs the question: Is it worth it?

Most of us are willing to pay a little extra for something if it is important to us,¬whether it be the shoes we wear, the doctor we choose to treat us, or even the cup of coffee we drink. It is something that we value, therefore it is worth the cost. Most would agree that our safety and protection is of unmeasurable value. Those of us that are skilled in math may look at the numbers and think that stripping those who serve our public of their way to earn a decent living is an answer to a financial equation. But firefighters and their families are not numbers on a piece of paper. They are human beings that are doing their jobs every day to the best of their ability, and possibly sacrificing their own lives for the life of a stranger. Not many of us in our right mind would do that for free, and no one should have to.

So before making our minds up that firefighters are the financial problem, sit down with a local firefighter and ask him about his job. Ask him about his wife and his sons or daughters, what kind of house he lives in, and what type of car he drives. And then ask yourself, if you were to take on such a career, what would you expect in return?

** I DID NOT WRITE THIS.  This comes from a friend of a former ambulance partner.  She wishes to remain anonymous.

To Rise From The Ashes... (Part III)

It has been continuously surprising to me what a big move like this can do for the mind and soul.  I've made changes within things in my life that I've wanted to do but never had the drive to do, and now it's happening almost automatically.  I've been keeping a journal of all my meals, showing total calorie intake and total calories burned for each day.  (There's an amazing app for that!)  I've been physically active, working out, and more driven.  I've had this continuous sensation of positivity and energy.  Had you told me a year ago that I would become a calorie counter and label reader by now, I would have laughed in your face.

Along with the changes, were the wonders I'd be taking in.  For a normal city person, these were just everyday things.  For a Salt Lake City city person, a whole new world was in front of me, and I was viewing city life through the eyes of a fresh starting 18-year-old again.  The first weekend I was here, for example, was one HALLELOO of a welcome!  Since I live in the neighborhood known as Boystown, I am right in the epicenter of homosexual life in the city of Chicago.  That weekend was Market Days, a weekend long street festival that entertains somewhere in the area of 30,000 people.  This neighborhood street festival comes very close to rivaling numbers for the population of Pride Day for all of Utah!  What a hell of a welcome!

Another surprise to me was how warmly and quickly I was welcomed.  I already have an amazing circle of friends, and meet more people all the time.  The majority of the community here (in this part of town, anyway) is friendly, and I've met some of the most unique, fun, and friendly people!  I love it.

One more great thing about where I'm at in this transition, is that I've already developed a system of checks and balances within my great new circle of friends.  Being a creature of habit, and one who's been fighting with repeating patterns all my life, I've come close to repeating a negative cycle of behavior but received a simple but loving tisk-tisk that I needed to get back on track again.  Knowing that people already have my back out here just makes me want to work even harder to establish myself as a great success in this community!

So there it is, the story of my journey from Salt Lake City to Chicago.  Its funny, I've known for YEARS that I needed to move from Salt Lake City, but things were never in proper alignment.  I'm glad to finally be where I need to be so I can grow as a person again.  Staying in the same place in life for so many years was horrible, I just never knew it until I had finally escaped it.

Cheers to my amazing friends who've supported my new adventures.  I love and miss you always!  Lets also have a cheers to my new friends, who've already showed genuine interest in me, and welcomed me with open arms.

(A friendly reminder for those of you who are new to my blog.  I'll often post a song within one of my entries that will match my mood, or thoughts within a particular subject.)

Wide Awake - A perfect song to fit this post. Click to hear!

To Rise From The Ashes... (Part II)

Now that I had decided to start a new chapter in my life outside of Utah, it was time to start doing research.  Where to go, jobs, cost of living, connections within people I know, etc.  I was considering San Fransisco, Sacramento, Phoenix, and even Las Vegas.  That's when things started falling into place, one by one.

First, I won free airfare from SouthWest Airlines.  Next, the process FINALLY went through and I'd finally be receiving some back money that was owed to me, a little over $2,000.  This would allow me to not only fund my initial move out of Utah, but repay my debts to my close friends.  Then, a chance conversation with a friend of over 10 years.  He had moved out of Utah about five years ago, and relocated to Chicago.  A city I had never even considered.  I explained everything that was going on, and the first words out of his mouth were to the tone of the fact that I needed out of Utah, and he was happy to help.  He offered to let me stay with him while I got myself settled and a strong foundation of self-sufficiency.

As if the universe was giving me one last chance to launch, the puzzle pieces of how to leave Utah had put themselves together.  Now it was time to act.  I started to wrap up my affairs, and spending quality time with as many of my friends and family as possible before it was time to leave.  Somehow, through all of these final moments, I had nothing but an amazingly strong positive feeling.  No fear, no anxiety, just the incredible sensation that I was doing the right thing and most importantly for the right reason.

Energy had started to come back to me.  I was sleeping better, I was happier, more focused, and driven.  I did have a moment of emotion, the day of my going away party.  It was to be expected with the loved ones who have been supporting me.  For the most part, however, everything was just working out in very incredible ways.

The flight to Chicago was amazing, and arriving here and traveling to my new home continued to feel more and more like the perfect fit.  I made friends the very first night I was here, a trend that remains steady still to this day.  I haven't gone a single day since my arrival without making at least one new friend.  I have already been invited into a circle of friends who spend time together doing fun things.  Movie nights on Tuesdays, various activities on the weekend, and so on.  All of this had happened within my first week.  An amazing hint of foreshadowing that stays true day by day.

I live in an amazing neighborhood, and have been completely surprised by the community surrounding me in such a positive way.  Even more, is that I've been surprised in the changes immediately happening within myself, my mind, my heart, my personality.  Great changes in myself in every way.

The third and final piece of this post will be completed in the days to come, as there's SO much more to tell now that I have finally arrived!

To Rise From The Ashes...

...this is a phrase most of us hear several times throughout our lifetime, but rarely experience the true meaning of the phrase.  I have been fortunate enough, loved enough, WORTH enough to shed my "skin of darkness" as it were.  I in no way have done this by myself.  This was done with a combination of chance, and the absolute love of so many friends coming together to help me in this metamorphosis.  I have spoken before about "evolutionary phases" in a personality as you grow up.  Every time I've experienced this reality, it's been more profound before the last.  This time, however, is FAR different.  I am able to step outside of myself and look at past, present, and future objectively.  I see my mistakes, my flaws, my strengths, my qualities, my room for improvement, and most importantly my self worth.

I haven't written in my blog for many weeks now, as I had fallen into a world of continued guilt, depression, and self-loathing for the situation in life I'd allowed myself to fall into.  I was 30, turning 31.  I was behind on rent, on unemployment, in debt to several friends, having NO luck with job searches, and the list continues.  I was in an awful place, both emotionally, physically, personally, and any other way you could think of.  I was in such a rut, I was literally becoming physically ill.  There were some days that I slept about 18 hours out of that day, give or take.  I was in survival mode, and I didn't know how to escape it - or even care to try.

I can't speak for others, but I know that I am so fortunate to have been able to escape this darkness from the love and support of SO many people.  Through my years in Salt Lake City I have befriended some of the most amazing people to ever walk the Earth.  Without you, I wouldn't be anything today.  I wouldn't be even close to the person I am, despite my recent dark path.  Although I've walked through hell and back, it could have always been so very much worse.  I could have been left homeless.  I could have been left hungry.  I could have been left with nothing to my name and nobody to call my beloved friend.

I haven't been the perfect friend.  I've borrowed money and been late on deadlines.  I've forgotten birthdays.  I've been so deep in survival mode that I would accept the kindness of others in the form of drink, or loans, or anything else knowing I didn't have the means the immediately return that love.  That was never my intention.  I simply became to comfortable within the blanket of love I was surrounded.  I can't ever apologize enough for allowing to become that kind of person.  Although I'm growing constantly and no longer that person, my heart still aches for bridges burned.  For friends lost due to my own blindness.  The friends I've kept, I am forever grateful that you stuck with me.

Intentions are a funny thing.  The entire time I was in this world of leaning FAR too much on my close friends, my intentions were always never to take advantage, but to use their love as the influence I needed to regain my strength and independence.  Honestly, now that I'm looking back, I'm surprised so many of you were as patient and supportive as you were.  To this day I will never know what I did to deserve it, but please know that you are in my thoughts and my heart every day as I am growing within my new life and identity.  My intentions were never of selfishness, but of eventual reciprocation.  Luckily I got MOST of that taken care of before I left Utah.

Enough of the past, lets fast-forward to how I ended up here in Chicago.  My birthday of 2012, turning 31, was a wake up call if I have EVER had one.  I see all of my friends have fun parties thrown in the honor of their birthday all the time.  People planning fun decorations and themes, a great night out to celebrate the love of their friends.  I've not had that, I've always had to plan my own birthday party.  This year, however, when I chose not to create my own party, I was dealt a wicked blow.  My best friend wasn't available, and nobody was concerned about my birthday.  My fault, I know now, due to the rut I had been in for so many months.  I literally had to call and beg people to spend time with me on my birthday, but to no avail.  While I can't blame anybody but myself, this was the biggest wake up call in the world for me.  I took that pain, and I molded it into constructive energy.  I now knew I was done with Salt Lake City, and moreover, Utah.  More importantly, Utah was done with me. 

...Chapter two of this post will be posted tomorrow, in an effort to make this post not entirely TOO long to read.

The Pain In The Heart...

This one has been rolling around in my head for a long time, it's always there.  As I continue to evolve, my interpretation of the feelings changes somewhat, but the base of what it means is always constant.

I'm 30 years old, and have been single my entire life.  I've written about this before, posted in my previous blogs carried over from all my original "notes" from Facebook.  That was written years ago, when I was younger and had different ideas about love.  But the absence of love still hurts.  I've written about a heart being broken from never being touched.  That pain is very real.  So I turned the pain into motivation, a proverbial fire under my ass to make changes that were necessary in my life and personality.

Here I am, five years later.  I've grown, I've created a stable foundation of career and a solid conviction of character.  My goals in love, and in life, have evolved and "grown up" if you will.  I am happy with myself, and by myself, when I never was before.  I've found confidence in myself.  Confidence when approaching other guys, and confidence in the decisions I make personally.

I used to hide the pain by playing the ALL too common hook up game that is so easy and popular amongst the gay community.  Meeting guys for fun, having those few moments of intimacy based on looks, and making up the rest.  It was just enough to get by, to make me feel normal in some distorted way.  Now my views have changed.  Of myself, of others, and who I really am.  What I really deserve.  What I can truly offer.  I'm no longer actively looking for somebody to be with, because I truly understand now that it will happen when the time is right.  I'm ok with that.  But does it change the pain?  Never.

There are times when I smile through heartache caused by absence.  There are times when I see an amazing couple, and even though its hidden, I can't help but focus on why I can't have that.  I deserve happiness with somebody.  I want to share the amazing person I've become with somebody else, and feel what it's like to have somebody share themselves with me unconditionally.  Everybody has this fairytale idea of what falling in love is like.  I now see it for what it really is.  Falling in love is sharing yourself with somebody, and loving them for not only their great qualities but their flaws as well.

The thought has crossed my mind that some people aren't destined for love, that they have other purposes in life that don't have room for falling in love.  I've seen it before, and I'll see it again.  I'm simply trying to hide from the thoughts that I may be one of those people.  Am I one of those people?  I hope to god that isn't the case, because I couldn't bear going throughout my entire life with this pain.  Without experiencing the true happiness I've seen in others.  I know the longing for happiness found in love will never leave.  It's been with me this long and will continue to follow me throughout life, until I finally find happiness.  Until I can finally fall in love.

But what if that never happens?

The Responsibility Of Gratitude...

I've referenced in prior posts (The Sun Will Rise) about the cycles in my life.  In my darkest times I had no choice but to lean on several friends to keep my head above water to survive.  Now that I've overcome those difficulties within my personal life and redirected myself towards a path of self sufficiency, I'm experiencing an overwhelming back flow of what you might call Karma.

I'm torn, once again.  I've been fortunate enough to have had a large enough support group of several friends who helped me without hesitation, some with significant sacrifice, and never without question.  They all did this because they believed the end result would be a positive one, and they were truly helping a friend.  This is true, and I have taken off on my own.  I am now rebuilding my foundation from the last cycle and rebuilding my self sufficiency.

Now that I'm on that path, I'm receiving a floodgate of back flow, friends that now require my help in return.  This could be repayment of debt, or a simple emotional distress they are experiencing that I am experienced in and am the most knowledgeable to help with.  Do I owe each on of these friends my loyalty and friendship?  Absolutely.  The problem I'm facing is that while I was one friend receiving support from many at one time to survive, now the tables have turned.  I am one friend that many need help from all at once. 

My resources, whether it be emotionally, physically, fiscally, or any other way are limited as I am one person.  All of those resources, however, are being stretched to overload because of the sudden reverse of friends in need.  Do I owe each of these friends my life?  Absolutely.  Am I capable of helping everybody all at once?  Impossible.

Now I play the villain, as everybody has given unconditionally to me yet I am forced to prioritize my resources to be able to return my friendship, loyalty, and resources effectively.  I must admit, I probably deserve this, as I allowed myself to accept help from so many people at once for different aspects to sustain me.  I needed it to survive, but it's my fault for needing the help in the first place.

I risk offending people, even losing friendships, as everybody wants me to be able to immediately return what was given because I am now finally in an initial position of self sufficiency again.  I have to balance rebuilding myself financially, emotionally, and socially.  Additionally, I have to devote time to those I love who NEED my help, or that I have a debt to in any other regard.

Rebuilding myself is a slow process.  My available free time is set, with extreme new responsibility in my new job.  My available financial capacity to repay debts is slow coming, as my first paycheck from new job is just barely arriving and the debts I've accrued need to be balanced with my current cost of living so I don't repeat the same god damned cycle.

I can't please everybody all at once.  The problem is, everybody who has helped in, no matter the method, deserves the same amount of friendship back.

How do you find balance in a situation like this?  It's horrible that I have to prioritize, and I wish I were more of a man than I am.  But I am also a realist, and I am working smarter these days in addition to harder.  If I don't play my cards right, I'll collapse in on myself.

There is no simple solution, no way to fix everything all at once.  There is, however, a lesson learned.  NEVER repeat my detrimental cycle again, so I will never again be faced with this responsibility.  Gratitude and loyalty are ever present, but I'm simply unable to properly show it with actions necessary to all who need it.

I am stretched so thin, and it's my own fault...

Prescribed Dependency...

An interesting thing for me to focus on tonight.  Truthfully something in the back of my mind for years now, I've just never really processed the frustration of "the issue".

At 30 years old, I am dependent on six different medications daily to survive.  The first starting when I was in ninth grade and finally diagnosed with a life-long disorder passed on genetically.  I had epilepsy, and as I grew older, it grew stronger.  Ultimately resulting in full blown tonic-clonic seizure disorder, commonly known as grand-mal seizures.  Luckily, this disorder is regulated to the point that I am safe to drive and work normal jobs.  The downside of that is that I have to religiously take thousands of milligrams of a combination of drugs daily and ON schedule.  Any deviance from this regiment causes the torturous seizures to return.  I've grown to live with this, in a healthy and functional way.

However, as I've grown, genetics have found more ways to "pepper" up my lifestyle.  Along with epilepsy, I am also hypertensive (high blood pressure), and anxiety ridden.  I am also reliant recently on anti-depression due to my inherited ability to fall into a clinical state of depression.  Along with several other life-long diagnoses, I am reliant on six pills every morning and three pills every night to survive.

When a person begins to measure their self-sufficiency, we can't help but look at this array of pills we are dependent on as a major speed-bump in the success of our daily lives.  While I am an accomplished EMT, I am unable to volunteer my services to the Army National Guard, as they will not take somebody with as many medical "deficiencies" as myself.  I am happy being a protector of public safety, but when I looked into committing more to my community I must admit that I was disheartened by my significant disqualifying factors.

Does it make you less of a man to know that you are reliant on at least six (for now) medications for the duration of your lifetime?  Is it silly to struggle with a small part of your self pride when you analyze this situation within yourself?

Luckily one of the medications, my antidepressant, is predicted to only be needed for one year.  It is found that the medication itself, along with proper counseling, will actually reshape the neural behavioral patterns to ultimately correct the problem instead of simply masking it.  That makes me happy, and gives me something to work with inside myself.

I know countless people are in the same boat as I am, dependent on pharmaceutical corporate America to keep the safe and healthy.  Most of them for worse situations medically than I am in.  I know these measures were to created to not only protect life, but also preserve the qualify of life for those living with "controllable" illnesses.  Nevertheless, I can't help but feel the fact that I'm on six pills daily, and growing, is a sign that I'm not really the man I wish I could be.  I am limited at every corner.  Even though I find new paths and ways to work around my deficiencies, I am ambivalent about my gratitude.  Part of me is thankful that I can live a normal and productive life.  The other part of me is resentful that I am not the man I want to be without these little helpers.

Am I just being ungrateful?  Are these feelings justified?  I'm afraid I won't ever really know that answer, and I'll be at odds with this situation for as long as I'm taking all the god damned pills...

In The Line Of Duty...

...six officers went down, one of which will never return. I shed tears for a man whom I've never met today. Never even worked with him on a scene or alongside his agency in a similar area. Still, I am poisoned with feelings of loss for a member who was part of a huge community.

Agent Jared Francom of Ogden City Police was killed last night in the line of duty. I watched the breaking news in awe of the tragic situation unfolding. First reports of one officer down, then three, with a final total of six officers shot. The only thing my mind and heart could focus on last night was hope. Hope that these officers would recover. Hope that these officers wouldn't be another statistic of a man lost while protecting his community. Hope that these officers would be able to go home to their families once again. Unfortunately, my hope did little to help. Agent Francom has a wife and two children that will never see him come home again. The very thought haunts my heart, and I'm trying to understand this strong sense of loss for a man and family I've never met.

Having worked as an EMT, I became very close with many of my public safety colleagues. This includes law enforcement, fire, as well as EMS. Somehow a bond is forged that isn't really easy to explain. We all work together, side by side, to protect our communities. Some of these colleagues have become close and personal friends of mine. Others I am simply proud to work alongside. We protect each other, help each other, and in a sense become a family. I was asked why the loss of an officer I never met can bring me to tears, but losing a patient I've never met on a scene or watching the news of a person in my city that lost their life doesn't cause the same effect. This isn't easy to explain, but I must attempt, not only to explain it to others, but to fully understand it myself.

In the public safety world, death is something you have to learn to deal with, or it will destroy you. The term "Professional Detachment" is one of the VERY first things taught when training to work in this field. We have to learn to separate ourselves emotionally from the people we help and sometimes cannot save. Everybody has their "buttons" however, that will always pass around that wall of professional detachment. For most that I've worked with in public safety, the most common cases you'll be told is when you have to respond to an incident involving illness, injury, or death of a child. That is true for myself as well. It's just harder to accept with children. On that same token, the words "officer down" are a powerful venom I never want to hear. My heart skips a beat, and I can't help but feel as if one of my own family has fallen. I went to bed last night, having watched the news and thinking about all the information they were able to deliver at that time. I fell asleep knowing that all were still alive at that time, hoping with everything inside me that all would be alive and stable when I woke.

While I slept, I had one of the most vivid and realistic nightmares I've ever had. That is quite a statement, as I am rarely able to remember dreams for longer than five minutes after I wake, let alone every vivid detail from beginning to end. In this nightmare, I was on the scene of the incident. An officer went down, myself and a police officer pulled him away from the scene in a safe area, and left him in the protection of colleagues. Myself and a police officer then looked at each other and knew that time was a factor. We got in a police car, left the scene and hauled ass to the injured officer's personal home. We entered the home, and explained that there wasn't much time left. She needed to come with us to talk to her husband one last time. There were children of the officer in the house, but they weren't allowed to come. We hurried to the police car to get her to her husband, but she stopped us for a moment. She ran back into the house, to get something. An object that fit in one of her hands. I couldn't see clearly what it was, but she simply explained it was the world to their relationship, and she wanted it there with her while she said goodbye. We got in the car, and rushed to the scene. That's when I woke up, almost in tears. I woke up to find out that my nightmare, in the most important sense of the story, had come true. Agent Francom passed shortly after midnight.

I shed tears for this man, and his family, whom I've never met. I thought to myself "Why?", and realized that single word was questioning so many things. Why was this violence necessary? Why should a man fall over petty drugs? Even more shocking to me, is the question I found circling my mind the most. "Why can't I fix this?", which is a question that has no business being in my mind. Logically, this situation is none of my business. I wasn't involved in that agency, I wasn't an EMT responding to that situation, I didn't know the officers injured. Why would I feel a sense of being powerless, as if I could have in the first place? Unfortunately, I cannot answer that question. I don't think there is an answer.

Some of you who read this will be my colleagues in public safety, some of you will be friends who support and respect our work, and some of you will be amongst the group of people who are quick to say "Fuck the cops!" and call them pigs. If you are one of these people, it is reasonable to assume that you have been in some sort of legal trouble at one point in your life, or simply given a speeding ticket that you really didn't want. I've been one of those people, I have a blemished past. I've been arrested before, because I made mistakes. But, before you switch to hatred of these men and women who are simply doing their jobs please remember one very important thing. All of your past put aside, whether good or bad, these people have and will lay down their lives to protect you. Unfortunately, few people recognize this form of selflessness. Even fewer show their gratitude for it.

I am thankful for the bravery Agent Francom and every other law enforcement officer show to put on that uniform and protect us every day. I am so disheartened by the loss. I hope you are too...

As explained in prior blog posts, I will often attach a song to go with a particular post that has given meaning or enabled reflection into the subject matter.  In this case, this song may surprise many of you.  However, please understand that the so called "soundtrack" selection is a reflection of how my mind and emotions are processing the subject matter, and that the lyrics, and music itself are relevant for me.