Kauai Getaway

I seem to have lost my focus for my blog, but I’m trying to get back on track. A week of forced rest in Hawaii has helped, albeit not at all in the ways that I was anticipating!

What I was hoping for in Kauai was some kind of emotional release from the demons that have followed me for the better part of a decade. From the deaths of friends, my mother, my marriage, my careers, my sense of self… I put DEALING WITH IT aside in favour of keeping busy, taking on multiple projects, pushing myself physically, mentally, and emotionally to higher limits, yet never reaching the finish line. Like there ever IS a finish line. At any rate, I hoped to find some solitude and time to reflect while on vacation, but, well, I guess it wasn’t meant to be this time around.

My trip to Kauai was shared with friends and family. My aunt, uncle, cousin, brother, and I in one resort, and 2 VPD buddies staying at another resort close by. It was fun sharing new sights and sounds with these familiar faces, and a great chance to know each other in circumstances other than “the usual”, but I really needed to put myself in solitary confinement. Things didn’t start out great, not because of the company, but for the food poisoning I got the first day. I spent the next 36 hours alternately barfing my guts in the toilet, hobbling from furniture to wall trying not to fall over, or crashed in bed, oblivious to the world. Or at least the tropical paradise beckoning outside my door.

An endangered Hawaiian Monk Seal, lounging around on Po'ipu Beach.
This was pretty much ME the first two and a half days in Kauai...
minus the beach, ocean, and sun.

I had never been so sick in my life. I’ve never slept so much, or eaten so little. But for the greatest ab exercises, look no further than the humble heaving puke. I was so dehydrated I actually had eyelids. And I’m not even trying to be funny! I was so weak, I couldn’t sit up long enough to have an MSN conversation without laying my head down on the table. Everything ached, and when I finally had enough strength to stand up on my own, I knew I couldn’t do the stuff I had planned. I brought my TRX Force Kit and had hoped to film some cool vids on the beach; had my portable iPod speakers ready to rock the hula, and couldn’t wait to body surf in the open ocean. I LOVE ocean swimming. But the few times I got to the beach, I knew I could have very easily overestimated my strength in the water and the last thing I wanted was to have to be rescued. How embarrassing would THAT be?















So I appreciated the little things, met some great people, schmoozed at the firehouse and fire/rescue lifeguard stations (got a couple of shirts ;-)! and relaxed as much as I could. I didn’t feel the same connection to Kauai as I do Maui; I am drawn to Maui like I belong there. But Kauai has it’s own energy, and one day I’ll go back under healthier circumstances to really appreciate its beauty.

Wailua Falls

So here I am, back in Van, rested and more relaxed to live life at a normal pace. Although I didn’t have the epiphany I was looking for, what I did get was the realization that my search for a personal “moment of clarity”, like happiness, is a journey, not a destination (to quote that eye-rolling cliché, sorry but true). Those emotional a-ha moments are spread throughout my life, but I guess along the way I’ve kept myself too busy to notice them – or I’ve blatantly eschewed them. Not anymore. I’ll leave those big Hollywood-style moments where they belong – in the movies.

A pocket of sun in between bouts of pouring rain, gusty wind, flying sand, fluffy clouds...
all within 10 minutes!

Why Do I Do This To Myself? Reflections...

2009/02/06

Well, it's been a month since THAT day, and all I can say is that I have been overwhelmed with support and good wishes for my next adventure, wherever it may be. I am constantly amazed at how much faith others have in ME... and feel so blessed to have those people in my life. As someone who is often the "giver" of encouragement and positive affirmations for clients, colleagues, or friends, I'm admittedly unaccustomed to being the "receiver" of the same.

Although I try to maintain a healthy diet of optimism in life, I sometimes wonder what is my purpose on this planet. I have accomplished some pretty amazing things, have had incredible experiences on career and personal levels, and truly do look forward to the next adventure life has in store for me, but the reality is sometimes I just wonder "why"? Is it that really, I’m only meant to take the journey, never reach the destination (or it just be a stopover), and keep inspiring others to set, reach, attain, and repeat when it comes to the game of goal-setting?

Why am I blessed to be given so many opportunities in life, only to find I've not used them properly? People are amazed that I have in a matter of 10 years been a police officer, a journalist, PR & communications consultant, fitness trainer, owner of an all-natural bodycare line, career firefighter... my resume is pretty jam-packed, and I know the people who tell me I should become a paramedic are actually serious! But in the broader sense beyond my CV, why is it that I choose these incredibly lofty goals, throw my heart into achieving them, then… Really, it wasn’t enough to set a goal of becoming a firefighter. I guess I should have specified I’d like to be one for more than three months!

I’ve wracked my brain psychoanalyzing myself. Why am I drawn to physically demanding, mentally challenging, and emotionally draining professions? I’m not trying to prove anything, to anyone. It just so happens the things I like to do are typically found in male-dominated professions. Before deciding on a career in firefighting, my other consideration was to join the Army, Direct Entry Officer. Yes, seriously. The boys at the Regiment still wonder why I’m not in fatigues. Still, the fact remains that I’m much more at home with a bunch of loud and brash Army brats, cops, or bucketheads than I am pretending to be interested in matching curtains, silverware, or matching shoes and handbags whilst passing idle gossip around the office water cooler. I so could not live in the land of Dilbert or Office Space. “Anyone theen my red thtapler??” I even prefer Men's Health to Women's Health magazine... and not just for the pictures! But seriously, Women's Health has 5lb dumbbells and yoga mats... while Men's Health has kettlebells, tractor tires, and Marine Corps challenges. Which do you think is more my style?

I will continue to reach for my goal in becoming a career firefighter, and will not stop until all doors are closed. Then, and not for the purposes of manual or hydraulic ventilation, I will start to open other doors. Maybe some windows, too. I'm not a quitter, but I'd be hard pressed to find a more difficult profession to break into. But at the same time, I need to be realistic. Sure, I certainly don't fit any mold of what you think a firefighter should look like, but I am the sum of many talented parts. I just hope to get a chance to prove it.

TD

The fire's out for now... but the embers are still hot

Honoured readers,

I want to thank you for the support you've shown for me this past year as I faced obstacle over obstacle, challenge after challenge, and met them all with courage, thanks to the faith you've all had in me. My dream was achieved last Fall when I was hired by Abbotsford Fire Rescue Service, in what at the time seemed such an distant goal... as a career firefighter!

What a fantastic journey! I learned so much about myself, and even more about the at-times foreign aspects of a career where I had no trades background or practical fire experience, save for burning food in the kitchen and setting off many a smoke alarm... sigh... But inexperience aside, I met an amazing group of people. My classmates, my Training Officers, my fellow firefighters.... even the great administrative staff for the city of Abbotsford.

During my 9 weeks of training, I studied like a madman, marched/drilled, cleaned, did PE, HUNDREDS of punishment pushups, rolled infinite amounts of hose, learned about building construction, tools, fire streams, hose lays and deploys, trucks and equipment, SCBA and PPE (our Darth-Vader-like breathing apparatus and oven-mitt-like turnout gear)... set up hoselines and ladders; advanced hoseline UP ladders; humped hose every which way; navigated confined spaces; caught hydrants; I got to run up and down, up and down, up and down, repeat-repeat-repeat the 6-storey stairs tower, and even carried big guys to safety :-)... I ascended up and rappelled down the Fire Tower; built tons of mechanical advantages for technical high angle rope rescue; learned about wildland firefighting; got to cut up cars with the Jaws of Life; dike, dam, and divert at Hazardous Materials training and wear a giant Level A marshmallow suit... I learned HEMP-LOC-AVPU-DABC-PQRST and more in First Responder training (did you know there are no band-aids on a fire truck?)... I can tear apart and put back together a chain saw, vent saw, K-12 rotary saw and Sawzall.... not mention make a lot of big holes in otherwise solid objects with the above-mentioned power tools, but also perform forcible entry with a good old-fashioned axe and Halligan.

And of course, I got to put out fires. There is nothing that compares to the thrill of being in the same heat-infused room alongside a raging inferno, and having the presence of mind NOT to run out screaming, but to KNOW you are in control and will put it out safely. Wow. "Hot" doesn't even begin to describe the feeling of being completely enveloped with smoke and flames all around you, while wearing the heavy gear designed to keep us safe.

Then they put us on the floor. Hoooo-wheeee!!! Out of the classroom, into a Hall, onto the trucks!! I was assigned to Engine 1, Hall 1, C-platoon. The main hall. I didn't care where I went, really. I didn't care if all I did was make coffee and do dishes. I would do it proudly as part of my duties as the newest probie in the AFRS. My crew was awesome, what can I say. They made me feel at home right away. They even played jokes on me. BTW, FYI, we don't have night-vision goggles at the AFRS. In case anyone asks. But they helped me train, they took me under their wing, and pretended to like the artisan coffee I brought in. Although we didn't get any big calls, boy, what a rush, that first time going Code 3 (lights and siren), jumping into the gear, wondering what we were going to get when we got there. More often than not, it was a false alarm, burned toast, or an old MVA rollover that had already been looked after by crews earlier on in the day. Or, Rescue 1, Engine 6 or Engine 2 stole it from us. Hmphff!! During our down time, we trained, whether it be FR scenarios, hose stuff, or going over the tools and truck piece by piece. Despite the hour long commute, I eagerly looked forward to going to work every shift.

At the 3-month probationary evaluations last Saturday, my journey with the AFRS drew to a close. I performed all of the required duties successfully, with confidence and ease, but part of my turnout gear was not on properly and so some tasks were deemed unsuccessful. According to AFRS Operating Guidelines, less that 100% during these evaluations means automatic dismissal, regardless of how seemingly insignificant the mistake. I was let go on Tuesday Jan 6... no second chance.

The meeting with HR went well, and the gal told me how they agonized over the meeting, but the OG's are black and white. She did ask, if I was interested, if I would put forth my name and apply as Fire Inspector when the position is posted after the city-wide hiring freeze, well, thawed out. She said this, with the blessing of the Deputy Chief of Training, is an acknowledgment that I am still a strong candidate for my good attitude, character, personality, work ethic, and integrity... but the as the technical aspects of the probationary period were not met, I am unable to continue my journey as an AFRS firefighter. I told her I would consider the position, but will continue to pursue firefighting with other departments as positions open and recruitment begins. When a door closes, another opens, and I hope that with all that I've learned with the AFRS, the next door will be the one I was meant to walk through all along.

As I say to many of my fitness training clients when their policing dreams take an unexpected turn, things happen for a reason. Perhaps it doesn't make sense at that moment, but I often turn to the Serenity Prayer in times such as this. "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference." I kept this in mind as I thanked the Chief, HR, and the Union for giving me the opportunity to develop my strengths and discover my weaknesses as a firefighter, and that I would take this experience and learn from it. To hold my head high with courage and grace is all I can ask of myself, hoping I tried my best, knowing I could have done better, while trying to have no regrets. But it's hard... and the hardest part for me I think is the tangible disappointment. In myself, for others that have supported me, for those that trained me and worked alongside me. All I can think to say is I'm sorry.

This post was almost as hard to write as the one about my mom. But I know however much it hurt to write, that post helped some people, and I'm hoping this one will too. Share your thoughts, either here or e-mail me at fire@code5fitness.com, wish me luck on my next endeavour, or just come to a kettlebell class this weekend and sweat it out the old-fashioned way. You know I will ;-).

Success is never final. Failure is never fatal. It is courage that counts.

Trish

aka: Donger
aka: T to the D
aka: Doug
aka: Kenney

Where did the time go? Three more days!

Wow. I just realized my last post was almost two weeks ago... so much for even attempting daily blogging! At least I have a good excuse. Everytime I considered even a short (yeah right) update, I chose sleep instead. What with the 0730 - 1700 hrs, Mon - Fri, of firefighter recruit training, that leaves precious little time to eat, sleep, study, do homework, recover physically, do laundry, pay bills, read/respond to email, teach my Code 5 classes on the weekends, or socialize...

Looking back at the last few weeks, my class had done A LOT of stuff. We did another long day of live fire in the burn building; we became Technical High Angle Rope Rescue, as well as Hazardous Materials - Operations certified; we drilled, did PE, practiced Job Performance Requirements (JPRs), put together a Fire Prevention Presentation, and today – WHOO HOO! – started Vehicle Extrication - Jaws of Life, baby!

Some training highlights:

Live Fire Day - Justice Institute of BC, Fire & Safety Division, Maple Ridge, BC

This should have been labelled "Lowlights". I was not happy with my performance at all during the live fire evolutions. Not only that, but my friend lent me a fire-proof helmet cam to take into the burn building – and I melted it into a pile of plastic and rubber goo. Oops! I told him to return it, and say it came out of the box that way...

Basically, I overthink things to the point that's commonly described as "Paralysis by Analysis"... I can't describe it any other way. I know the task, I have the skills and the tools to complete it, I just think too much to the point where I make dumb mistakes. Well, I learned a lot, and I beat myself up the point where I HAVE to let it go... but as any Type-A will attest, for us, it's a hard thing to do. Anyways, that was the day I came the closest I've ever come to passing out.

It was one evolution in particular, taking a charged hoseline up a 35' ladder into the 3rd storey window, and from there, finding and attacking the fire. Well, let me tell you something, if you recall a previous post, I casually mentioned that humping charged hose was a hard thing to do... now try dragging it up a ladder! Apparently, there is no easy way, or a miracle trick that makes the hose magically float up the ladder. It's a lot of gruntwork and sweat. Of course, for me to be able to see what I'm doing, I have to go on air, or else the mask fogs up. So after what seems to be an eternity, I get the damn hose up the friggin' ladder, I'm already pooped, and we haven't even started looking for the fire! My cohorts join me, and away we go. I can't even remember what we did once inside. We must have found the hot stuff and squirted some cool stuff on it. While getting the fire under control, my low air alarm starts going off – bells ringing, pack vibrating, me sweating and trying to control my breathing. We're deep in the building, we have to find our way back to the ladder, and climb down. That's a lot to do on low air!

We try our best to hurry back. By the time we get to the egress room with the window and ladder, my SCBA pack has stopped singing and dancing. That's bad. It means you are so low on air, you have maybe a few minutes left if you're lucky. I am SOOO exhausted at this point, you have no idea! I barely have the strength to jump up to the sill and climb on to the top of the ladder, but I do it. What alternative is there? There is none, because there are guys behind me waiting to get out, also low on air. I descend the ladder, one step at a time, each breath getting harder to take. Halfway down, I can feel each breath starting to suck the mask back onto my face. Not good. Two steps from the ground, I completely run out of air. I come off the regulator, and gasp for fresh air. Wow, was I ever happy to breathe that! An instructor came over to monitor me, and walked me through basic tasks such as, well, taking off my mask. And my helmet. And opening my turnout coat to cool down. My vision starts to blur, and I have to bend over to support myself... whoooo, gaaaaaassspppp, breaaathhhheeeee....... At least I don't fall over! I make it back to the staging area, and wait for my heart rate and body temperature to return to normal. Wow. And wouldn't you know it, I forgot to turn on the helmet cam...!

Technical High Angle Rope Rescue (THARR) – Operations

I won't lie to you. This is fun shit. We get to climb ropes up the side of a building, rappel down, create raising and lowering systems, tie cool knots, and rescue hapless victims from precarious situations. I would pay to do this, it's so much fun! This stuff does require thinking, because we needed to construct mechanical advantages (MAs) and make them work.... well, when you are dangling 3 storeys above the ground, you want to be sure you (or the guys that built the system) know what they're doing! This is definitely when you want to have your team skills honed, because teamwork and communcation is crucial to a successful rescue. I can't wait to take the Confined Space course next year!

Hazardous Materials (HazMat) – Operations

I was never really interested in HazMat. Seemed tedious... much less glamourous than THARR or live fire, and, well, dangerous chemicals just didn't do it for me! But it's part of the job, and we are all to be trained to Operations level. And the reality is, it was mostly pretty cool! The only problem is that at 5'4" and 130lbs, I am too small to fit any gear that would be on the trucks, and they don't even have my size for much of the equipment. But, we made it work, thanks to copious amounts of duct tape and ingenuity. I also picked up another nickname. Did you know that when I wear a Level A HazMat suit and speak through a throat microphone, I look and sound like Kenny from South Park? Kenny! Great. Well, it could have been worse! And, as an added bonus, we got to keep our Level B suits... so if anyone needs a Ghostbusters costume for next Halloween, give me a shout!

Vehicle Extrication
Well, we have a whole day of scenarios to go through tomorrow, so I won't bore you with details. But cutting through metal and operating the Jaws of Life is, let's just say AWESOME! I won't let bad drivers get to me and road rage is now a distant memory, because this just kind of cures it all. We still have another day to go... so I guess I'll have to put it in the next post.

I am tired, as usual. I'm starting to fall asleep while writing this, so I know it's time to pack it in. It's supposed to snow tomorrow, so I have to wake up even earlier than my usual 5am, just in case the roads suck. Welcome to BC!

Cheers

TD (Kenny)

Battle of the Badges?

Q: What do cops & firefighters both have in common?
A: They both want to be firefighters!

Okay, okay, relax, it's a bit off humour... LOL!! I'm gonna catch it from all of my cop friends now! Last post I touched on some cop 'n' firefighter commonalities; now we'll look at some differences.

BTW, I have so much more to add about the adventures of firefighter training, but I should catch up on what was left unfinished...

The more I become engrossed into the world of firefighting, the more observations I can make. Keep in mind, I have yet to serve 5 minutes on the floor as a badge-wielding, Union-backed, IAFF sticker-bearing firefighter that actually has a story to tell – but even as a lowly recruit, there are notable differences.

Primarily, the nature of our contacts with the public come to mind. Let's face it, anytime you see a cop car coming at you Code 3 (lights & siren) behind you while driving, I'm guessing the first things you do will involve looking at the speedometer, hitting the brakes, asking yourself if you've done anything wrong, and putting your cell phone/Crackberry/iPod/breakfast/lunch/dinner down and paying attention to the road, after you've checked to make sure your seatbelt is on. Sound familiar? Then as the cop passes right by you, you breathe a sigh of relief as you wait for your heart rate to subside. Uh huh. Or, let's say you get a knock at the door in the middle of the night, or whenever, and there are two uniformed cops standing there. Whatever the reason, you know it's not going to be good. Usually, public contacts with law enforcement are not happy ones, and that's ther reality of the job. Cops have to deal with both scumbags and law-abiding citizens, and their duties are thankless. A job well done is often taken for granted, and when you do get the scumbags off the street, there is always someone trying to criticize the who/what/where/why. So easy to jump to conclusions, but if you weren't there, you have no right to criticize. End of story. But when cops do make mistakes, you can bet it's all over national television. Well what about the happy human-nature stories? Once in a while yes, but disproportionately. "If it bleeds, it leads", to quote a popular journalism saying. It's not right, but it's not going to change anytime soon.

Firefighters, however, have it pretty good. Courageous, and brave, when the community calls the Fire Dept into action, they are SOOO happy to see us arrive! We save their lives, their property, their homes.... and we have a special charitable calendar to to boot! We get station visits from families and community groups, people honk and wave as we drive down the street, and we really feel the public's appreciation for what we do. AND... even though we work a 4/4 shift schedule much like police do, we actually get to rest on our night shifts, sometimes. We get to ride that big red truck!! Does it get any better?

People often joke that I've traded my gun for a pillow. Actually, it's usually the cops the say that to me. That I switched to the "other" side, to be a "buckethead". They've even asked why I'd want to be a firefighter... because I'm too smart!! Ouch! There are so many misconceptions it's hard to keep it short for a blog like this. But let's try.

What I find amusing is that it's usually the cops that try to belittle firefighters, whether it be to criticize how we burst into houses just to bust shit up and break it down, like bulls in a china shop. Or, we spend our spare time shining that pretty red truck. Or that we get too sleep on night shift. Or that we all have second jobs, usually in the trades. The list hoes on. But funny, I really haven't heard any "digs" from the firefighters about cops. Except for maybe to question to fitness level of some members after they've spent a few years on the road.

Fitness. Now we're talking. I have a lot of opinions on this, and I speak from experience, not as an armchair quarterback. I've walked the talk, and am not shy to say it like it is. Too many times I have seen police pre-recruits work their asses off to pass the POPAT or PARE, then let themselves slide once they're in, past Police Academy or Depot, and then fitness becomes a chore, last on the priority list. 99% of the job is routine, and you spend a lot of time sitting on your butt in a patrol car. But it's that 1%, that one call where the shit hits the fan and you have to fix it... you NEED to be on your A-game, you are going full-on, balls-to-the-walls, with an all-out adrenaline dump. Now is when you will feel that skipped workout! Firefighters, by the nature of the job and countless hours of continued training, MUST and DO maintain a high level of fitness, otherwise they become a risk to themselves and their mates. Our CPAT fitness test is 10:20 compared to a 4:15 POPAT, and much more difficult. But the real test in on the fireground, when you not only need to have the strength to set up ladders & fans, hump hose, climb/walk/crawl in, out, up, down, around, wearing 50lbs of gear, hauling heavy tools, and also have the cojones to enter a building on fire, search for things when visibility is zero, get the job done, and make it out safely... all on air, which means if you run out... bad things happen. Our first week of Fire Academy, our Training Officers told us that now we are in the field of emergency services, we GIVE UP THE RIGHT to be unfit and unhealthy. I love it!

Probably the best way to describe to differences between firefighting and policing is to first understand that we are different people that fit under the broad spectre of emergency services. Then, to put it bluntly, cops are enforcers, and firefighters are saviours. And I'm speaking my own humble opinion here, in very general terms, so if you have a comment or story to share, please do! Love to hear fr om you!

TD

The Beehive

Keeping up this blog is harder than I thought it would be. I'm always too busy, too tired, or there's too many other things I need to attend to. I should be polishing my boots now, but I decided to wash all the cloths and rags so I'm also doing laundry... so I'll do it in a bit, while watching the hockey game. So now it's Blog Time!

There are some things that are givens that come with a career in Emergency Services. Some of the stereotypes hold true, some are past traditions, some are negative/positive, some are mystical, some are downright legendary... Police or Fire, when you work under stressful conditions with a bunch of Type-As banging heads, some interesting stuff comes out. Having had the unique experience of being a cop, then switching to fire, has unveiled some interesting observations. The hard part is trying to figure out where to start!

Let's start with the things we have in common. Cops and Firefighters are public servants, to serve the community, make it a better place, to protect and serve. Blah blah blah. Whatever slogan you choose, it's all the same. We are city employees, overworked and grossly underpaid for the amount of skills required to do our jobs effectively. But for both of these professions, you don't get into it for the money. You do it because you possess an innate call to duty. I can't explain it, and if you really need to ask, you won't understand. We who wear the uniform as protectors willingly enter situations when the shit hits the fan, everything is going sideways, and there is a risk of death or bodily harm. But we have tools of the trade, and we learn to use them – whether it be a gun, baton, firehose, or set of irons... We walk in when everyone is running out, and we do it not because we have to, but because we want to.

Now because of the nature of the job, the personalities of the people who choose to do it, and the darkness that often surrounds the calls we go to as cops or firefighters, civilians sometimes don't understand how we deal with things. That creates stress, and it's no coincidence that the divorce rate in the Police and Fire Services are amongst the highest of all professions. I guess that's why during our first week, our Training Officers asked how many of us were married – half put up their hands. "Good luck", they laughed, and proceeded to give us the name and number of the best divorce lawyer in town. Yikes!

Camaraderie. Brotherhood. Fraternity. Join the police or fire service, and you have a ready-made family. That's what I was looking for when I first became a cop. I figured we all wore the same uniform, had the same goals to serve and protect the community and make the world a better place. Riiiiiigggghhhttt! But the duties of a police officer require clear independent thinking, and the ability to adapt to a changing situation which is often stressful. So it's quite feasible to work alone much of the time, or if you are an RCMP officer in a one-Mountie town, you are alone ALL of the time. So police officers, unless you have a long-term partnership, are quite self-sufficient. Firefighters are opposite. We train together, eat together, sleep together (NO, not in the same bed!) and fight fires – together. This is exactly what they are instilling into us during Recruit Training. When the situation gets dicey, we don't start freelancing. We fall back on our meticulous training... hours of drills, repeating the same Job Performance Requirements (JPRs) over and over, until it becomes second nature. Of course, I have yet to put my training to task in the real world, and I have yet to even meet the crew I have been assigned... but I know that THEY WILL BE THERE FOR ME.

A major drawback to belonging to such a closed-off world in Police and Fire is the Beehive. Buzz, buzz, buzz... lots of activity, looks like a gigantic clusterfuck, and if you disturb it, look out! One of my TOs gleefully admits to enjoying the aftermath – he just gives the beehive a whack, takes a step back, and watches the shitshow that results! Yes, that's another little something cops and firefighters have in common. They love to gossip. It's ridiculous, actually. On the outside, macho-man-superhero-defender-of-justice. On the inside, it's high school locker talk of "he-said-she-said". Police are bad, but firefighters are worse. They don't even try to hide it. Telephone, telegraph, tellafirefighter. It's a time-honoured tradition that will not go away, so my choice is to try to fly under the radar, or just duck and cover. Kinda hard when you are the 4th female on the floor, and a visible minority to boot. Great.

Next post we'll look at some of the major differences between Police and Fire. Friendly rivals? Foes? Colleagues or competitors, hmmm. But I'm starting to fade so that's my cue to sign off...

TD

Past the Hump!

Tomorrow my class starts Week 6. Where the heck did the time go? If all goes well, we will be ready to hit the trucks in our assigned halls in 4 weeks. Holy crap!

When I think back about where we started, what we've been through, and where we are going, it boggles the mind. Well maybe just me, but I wake up everyday still thankful for this opportunity to share a piece of the best job in the world.

Last week was First Responder training, and this week we continue with testing and practical scenarios. We also have a five-chapter module test, so while not a physically exhausting two weeks, we still have to work hard on skills and theory. We also have to be self-motivated to practice out Job Performance Requirements (JPRs) on which we will be evaluated the week after next. So that means a lot of staying behind after our scheduled class, and going through timed drills, over and over. But really, apart from being on a beach in Maui at the moment, is there anything else I'd rather be doing? And the answer is still "no".

I forgot to mention that last week (I think it was last week!) we got our custom-fitted turnout gear! Brand-spanking new black bunker gear, emblazoned with ABBOTSFORD in a semicircle across the back of the shoulders, our last names on the bottom, and a whole lotta yellow reflective tape. Yes, I will admit, I felt pretty cool putting on the stuff fresh out of the bags! And it fit! And they spelled my name right! Whoo hoo! What a difference, ahhhhh! The hand-me-downs I was borrowing in the interim were still too big – turnout coat skimming my knees, pants that no matter how tight the suspenders, still had me waddling around with my crotch mid-thigh. Yes, I can hear you laughing, but it made simple things, like going up stairs and squatting, difficult. I dar you to try it! Go put on your ski or snowboard pants, yank 'em down to your thighs, and walk around! Fun, huh? All that was left to complete the ensemble was proper turnout boots, as the ones I were using were (big surprise) too big. Actually, they were so big I've sustained some minor tissue damage on the top of my left foot from the constant banging and sliding around. I actually feared I had a stress fracture, but got it checked out and all's well. However, the FR weeks have let me recover, and well whaddaya know! My smaller-sized boots came in! They feel pretty good, even if the guys make fun of how tiny they are ;-). Thank goodness I'm not a guy right now!

You may have noticed an absence of photos on this blog, and that's because I'm respecting the AFR's wishes not to post anything with the uniform at the moment. Maybe later, but I'm not going to rock the boat yet, although the DC did want us to start documenting our time here to look back upon when we graduate (next year!). We'll see.

Well, it's past my bedtime as I am up at 5am. Good night!

t