At the beginning of my shift I often give myself a little inspirational speech.

“I will take this job more seriously.”
“I will listen to my patients complaints.”
“I will stop eating everything in sight.”
“I will try to learn something new.”
“I will not drink a gallon of coffee.”
“I will be more professional.”

The list changes from shift to shift, but I always start the week with best intentions. Sometimes my resolve lasts for hours. Sometimes minutes. Sometimes I don’t even get out the door with my new attitude.

1830 hrs. Dispatched to a woman’s shelter for a report of back pain. Arrived to find two women, one the patient, the other the patient “advocate.” The patient speaks no English and my Sesame Street Spanish is not enough to convey the emergency information to the ER.

New Me: “What is the problem.”
Patient: (through Advocate) “I have severe back pain.”
New Me: “How long have you had this severe back pain?”
Patient: “Many years.”
New Me: “And how did this severe back pain begin?”
Patient: “My breasts are too large, I need a breast reduction.”
Less New Me: “Your breasts are too large?”
Patient: “The weight of my breasts causes severe back pain.”
Even Less New Me: “And how is this even remotely an emergency?”
Patient: “I have back pain.”
Old Me: “Get in the truck.”

On the official State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations Emergency Medical Services form there is a spot for “Past Medical Conditions.” The New Me would have written “Back Pain” on the form. The Old Me is waiting for the phone call from the EMS Chief to explain why “Large Breasts” occupies the space relegated for “Past Medical Conditions.”

Her water broke as she stepped into the rescue. She lay on the stretcher, “I think I’m having the baby.”

“What is your due date?”

“June 15th”

I relaxed. Modern medical technology in never wrong about these things. If they say the due date is the 15th, the 15th it shall be.

“Don’t worry, you’re not due for a while. We’ll get you to the hospital in plenty of time.”

“I really think I’m having the baby.”

I covered her with a sheet and had a looksee. All quiet on the southern front. Just to be safe we took a driver from Engine 8 and one of their guys in back and started the six minute trek to Woman and Infants Hospital.

“Are there any complications?” I asked the forty year old woman whose second child seemed intent on making an early entry into this world.”

“I really think I’m having this baby now.”

I lifted the sheet and took another look. That wasn’t there a minute ago.

“Rick, you may want to step it up,” I said to the driver as we approached the Rt. 95 on ramp, looking away for a moment.

I took another look.

“I think you’re having the baby.”

Rescue ride to Woman and Infants, $450.00
Supplemental oxygen, $25.00
Umbilical Clamps, $13.00
The look on the mother’s face when I repeated her words….priceless

I placed the palm of my right hand gently on the crowning head and felt mom’s abdomen. For some unknown reason I rubbed her belly like a genie lamp, slow circular motions.

“You know, having a baby in a moving rescue isn’t all that bad,” I said, or something equally ridiculous as I continued rubbing her belly. She shouted, just a little. I looked down.

Mark and Adam had the emergency maternity kit open, clamps lined up, scalpel ready, blanket open, bulb syringe ready, pedi mask standing by.

Three minutes away from my salvation. If she could only hold on.

Instead, my patient load doubled.

In a rush of fluid and momentum a healthy, eight pound baby girl joined us in the rescue. For a second that seemed like an eternity everything stopped; except for the speeding rescue, as the baby lie still on the stretcher. As I reached for her a small cry. Then she took her first breath, then another. Then, as I picked her up and dried her another, louder cry as her skin turned pink.

Adam clamped the umbilical cord, then separated mother and child, but only for an instant.

I handed the package over.

“It’s a girl.”

If I thought her look from before was priceless, I hadn’t seen nothin’ yet.

Welcome to the Fourth edition of The Handover, Blog carnival. Thanks to Medic 999 for starting this.

This can be a lonely profession. Fortunate are they who have a friend or partner to count on to listen when things go badly, or celebrate when things go well. We have established a community of people willing to listen and share our experiences. It is something I am extremely proud and protective of. Every one of you owns a piece of my heart. I’m sure I am not the only person here prone to isolation, writers generally are. It is imperritive we break out of our self imposed exile and share our thoughts and experiences with those who understand and have what it takes to thrive in a hazardous and stressful enviornment. Those of us fortunate enough have a partner to share their world with. It doesn’t matter if that partner is somebody you work with, talk with on the phone or live your life with. Somebody once wrote a book called “God is my Co-pilot.” Whatever works. A partner makes an unbearable burden less so.

For those of you who read my book you already know how important a good partner is to me. I’ve had a number of partners over the years, all good, some better than others, some acquaintances that have moved on, others friends for life.

This edition is all about Partners. (Some of the pictures of famous partners don’t really make sense, I just thought they looked cool)

Lumo , My Life in A&E

http://lumo-wafflings.blogspot.com/

has had a few different role models in his paramedic or nursing quest, reading his blog it is obvious who he emulates.

http://lumo-wafflings.blogspot.com/2009/04/partners.html

Adrenaline and Cyanide

http://newparamedic.blogspot.com/

Ah, the joy of the regulars, explored on Adrenaline and Cyanide perfectly!

http://newparamedic.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-have-to-do-damage-control.html

Medic 7

http://medicseven.blogspot.com

Medic 7′s partner does seem to have a strange way of looking at things, like chicken.

http://medicseven.blogspot.com/2009/02/partners.html

A Day in the Life of an Ambulance Driver

http://ambulancedriverfiles.blogspot.com/

>

Holy Moses! AD takes a nice long ride, a bit longer than it needed to be!

http://ambulancedriverfiles.blogspot.com/2007/10/anti-partners-moses.html

http://manchmedic.blogspot.com/

Walt, Life in Manch Vegas had the great fortune of working with his true partner, great job!

http://manchmedic.blogspot.com/2009/05/partners.html

http://medicblog999.wordpress.com/

Mark, Medic999 who started this whole carnival learns a little from everybody he is partnered with. If you read his blog regularly, you will find it is a strategey worth keeping!

http://medicblog999.wordpress.com/2009/05/08/changing-the-way-i-work/

http://medicscribe.blogspot.com/

Peter, from Streetwatch, Notes of a Paramedic sends this homage to good partners, nothing like having a good sidekick on board.

http://medicscribe.blogspot.com/2005/06/old-partners.html

http://vtcabinfever.blogspot.com/

Jen, Cabin Fever and her company are keeping things safe in the green Mountains. Congratulations, all!

http://vtcabinfever.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-winner-is.html

http://sirenvoices.blogspot.com/

If you havent had the pleasure of reading Spence Kennedy’s Siren Voices, you are in for a treat. These partners could use a little work!

http://sirenvoices.blogspot.com/search?q=viewpoint

The Rhythm of Life
http://redoxygentank.blogspot.com/

I loved this one, the day I was asked to host this edition and decided on the “Partners” theme it magically appeared. Karma? Think so.

http://redoxygentank.blogspot.com/2009/03/dance.html

http://theemtspot.com/

I recently found The EMT Spot and am glad I did. The posts have a way of sticking with you and making you think hard about just what it is we are doing, or supposed to be doing out there. Well done!

http://theemtspot.com/2009/05/07/what-makes-a-great-partner/

http://nottrainedbutwetryhard.blogspot.com/

Another new blog to me, Not Trained but we Try Hard. Posts like these make my day, putting a human aspect on who we are.

http://nottrainedbutwetryhard.blogspot.com/2009/02/cocaine-cookies.html

http://yourhappymedic.blogspot.com/

Your Happy Medic takes a ride with an unresponsive partner. Strong stuff.

http://yourhappymedic.blogspot.com/2009/05/youre-not-listening-to-me-are-you.html

http://proems.blogspot.com/

Life Under the Lights Makes a frighteningly accurate comparison here. I have walked in his shoes and can relate!

http://proems.blogspot.com/2009/03/cat-puke-chicken.html

http://www.pinkwarmdry.com/blog/

Epi, from Pink Warm and Dry makes my proud to be part of this proffession. This post is a must read for anybody serving time on an EMS rig. We need to know how important each of us is to the other. At the end of the day, knowing your partner stands by you is all you need.

http://www.pinkwarmdry.com/blog/2009/05/more-than-partners/

http://callitasiseefit.blogspot.com/

Bernice captures the world around us so eloquently you cannot help but be drawn into each of her stories. This was one of my favorites, I thought I was riding along with her.

Bernice always Calls it as I See It
http://callitasiseefit.blogspot.com/2009/05/stronger-than-glue.html

One night, alone in my office, probably around 0300 I felt compelled to sign onto my blog, click on the Verve Earth link, point my mouse randomly and open the first blog that appeared. If there is such a thing as divine intervention, it was with me this night. I never thought much of poetry, except maybe as good lyrics to heavy metal songs, but Susie Hemingway’s words captured me and haven’t let me go.

http://susiehemingway.blogspot.com/

Says Susie on her blog, Susie Hemingway, a Power Within, “This poem is dedicated to the Men and Woman of EMS/ Fire Services, Providence, Rhode Island. USA. and to all Medical Personnel and Fire Fighters World-wide who have partners and love ones waiting for them at home.”

http://susiehemingway.blogspot.com/2009/04/breath-of-life-my-partner-by-susie.html

Thank you, Susie and Hamada, and everybody who we have helped in any way, even for the little things, for it is you whose partnership matters most. It is our honor and priveledge to answer your calls for help.

I hope you enjoyed this month’s edition of The Handover. The fifth edition will be hosted by A Life in the day of a Basics Doc. http://basicsdoc.blogspot.com/

I’m not sure what the theme will be but, check the doctor’s site for more information.

What with all of this preperation for the Fourth edition I haven’t had the opportunity to visit with the Doctor. I’m looking forward to the experience!

We’ve been hiring more minorities lately, something I’m always uneasy about. I know a lot of people who have taken the firefighter exam, done quite well after months or years of preparation, then watched their dreams fizzle as affirmative action takes over.

I’ve also responded to calls with the first black female firefighter in Providence and seen the eyes of the little girls in the projects light up when they see her, possibly seeing for the first time that yes, anything truly IS possible.

My friend and partner from a few years ago, Renato can walk into any neighborhood in this city, talk the talk and find out what exactly is wrong, all while setting a fine example for some of the possibly troubled Hispanic kids that hang around these streets.

The other day I was sent on a call with “Tang,” an Asian, tattooed monster of a man with a heart of gold and disposition of a comedian for a combative, out of control twelve year old who had defecated on the school gym floor and eaten it. We walked past a gauntlet of school teachers, psychiatrists, police officers and the vice principal toward our patient. I let Tang take the lead, he scares me, figured the kid would be petrified. Tang took a look at the patient, wrinkled his nose and simply asked, “did you wipe your butt?”

The kid shook his head no, stood up and walked with my partner out to the rescue, through the throng of people who just couldn’t reach him. We took the little guy to the hospital, (he never did eat his shit) Tang led him to the rest room and waited outside while he cleaned himself up. I’m sure the kid has serious emotional problems and will act out again, but for now, that moment he found peace and understanding from a guy who looked like he just got released from prison.

Do I believe in affirmative action? I honestly don’t know anymore.

http://www.ems1.com/EMS-week-2009/

I’m hoping to get some more submissions for the Handover by Midnight tomorrow. Thanks everybody for sending yours, I just have to figure out a way to put it all together before the 24th!

I’m bugging out of Dodge till Saturday, hope you have a great week!

As part of EMS Week I’ll be at The Warwick Public Library tonight to discuss Rescuing Providence and an inside view of EMS. Hope to see you there!

http://archive.constantcontact.com/fs072/1101646744072/archive/1102559682957.html

I just saw this little treat on EMS1.com. I, for once, am speechless.

http://www.ems1.com/ems-products/medical-products/articles/497599-Role-of-EMTs-in-Ohio-executions-criticized

Role of EMTs in Ohio executions criticized
By Suzanne Hoholik
The Columbus Dispatch

COLUMBUS, Ohio — When the state carries out a death sentence, intermediate-level emergency medical technicians deliver the fatal drugs to condemned prisoners.

But a Columbus surgeon and longtime opponent of capital punishment contends that these technicians are not allowed to administer the drugs.

The procedure state officials follow during executions states that the lethal drugs should be given by a “person qualified under Ohio law to administer medications.”

But under state law, intermediate EMTs are not authorized to work with these drugs.

“The EMTs are not trained to give these drugs and, in my opinion, there’s no assurance they can do it properly,” said Dr. Jonathan Groner, trauma medical director at Nationwide Children’s Hospital.

“These drugs are way out of their scope, and there is risk of pain and suffering.”

Groner raised the issue in a letter he sent to the executive director of the Ohio EMS Board, of which he is a member.

He said his letter was prompted by the recent testimony of two intermediate EMTs in a federal case filed by an Ohio Death Row inmate challenging lethal injection.

The case, filed in 2004, is pending.

Groner said that if intermediate emergency medical technicians gave these drugs to patients in any other setting, they’d be disciplined by the board.

The EMS board discussed the issue at a meeting last month. The board meets again Wednesday.

Richard Rucker, the board’s executive director, said the issue is not black and white.

“It depends on if they’re operating as EMTs or not,” he said. “EMTs are hired in hospitals and trained to do other things. It’s a gray area that has to be looked at.”

Rucker said he planned to have the board’s attorney research the topic and discuss it further with EMS board members.

There’s a similar debate in North Carolina, where the state medical board has said doctors who participate in the death-penalty cases are violating board rules.

But the North Carolina Department of Correction contends that those rules don’t apply inside the prison system.

North Carolina lawmakers are debating the same topic, said Richard Dieter, executive director of the Death Penalty Information Center in Washington, D.C.

In Ohio, physicians, nurses and paramedics working under a doctor’s order are allowed to administer these drugs.

But in most of the 35 states that have the death penalty, emergency medical workers insert the IVs and inject the drugs, Dieter said.

They lack the training, he said, to correctly calculate doses of medicines for each individual to be executed, and they don’t know, for example, whether the anesthetic has put the person to sleep.

“What the EMTs are trained to do is how to find a vein, insert a needle and have the drugs flow,” Dieter said.

National physician and nurse groups recommend that their members not participate in capital punishment.

There have been 28 lethal injections administered in Ohio since 1999.

“We have never used any doctors or nurses in the process, and we wouldn’t want to do that because it conflicts with any oath they have taken as it relates to preserving lives,” said Andrea Carson, spokeswoman for the Ohio Department of Rehabilitation and Correction.

“We don’t think we’re putting an EMT in a position of conflict.”

Groner disagrees.

“If EMTs in Ohio are using their skill to execute people, I think it defiles the profession.”

Copyright © 2009 LexisNexis, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Terms and Conditions Privacy Policy

Copyright 2009 The Columbus Dispatch
All Rights Reserved

The pill bottle was sticky and a little moist. I returned it to the shopping bag and peered in. There it was. The clear vial, possibly a spice container in another life lay on its side, the contents smaller now, stuck to the bottom of the vial. The bag smelled faintly of cloves, maybe residue from before.

I looked at my hand, the fingertips glistening from the contact with the vial. I sat there and watched my hand in the dim fluorescent light as the rescue sped toward Woman and Infants Hospital, a few miles away. I moved my fingers, still mesmerized. My stomach rolled, a little vomit tried to make its way from the bottom of my stomach. I forced it down. The vial of hand sanitizer was just out of reach, over near the heart monitor. I leaned on the back of the stretcher and grabbed it, pumping ten or twelve times, filling my palm with the antiseptic lotion, then rubbing my hands together as we rode in silence.

My patient was stable for now, crying softly to herself in the stretcher as one of her sons looked on. He came with us to act as an interpreter, only no words needed to be said. He just looked at his mom, then the floor, then shyly at me, then the floor again. I dried my hands on a towel, wiped the back of the stretcher and closed my eyes.

The truck stopped. The sobbing did not. The patients other son, husband and ten year old daughter waited for us outside the rescue, greeting us when I opened the rear door. Only the ten year old smiled. She put her hand on the stretcher as we wheeled her mom in.

The nurse working triage asked what we had. I explained the story to her quietly, trying to keep the confidentiality intact.

“We were called for a woman having abdominal pain following an abortion. Arrived to find her lying on the couch. On the kitchen table were these,” I opened the bag and showed her. “Inside the clear bottle is the results of a miscarriage. There was some fluid in the vial but it spilled inside the bag.”

The nurse looked at the blob of tissue drying in the bottom of the bottle. It had resembled a fetus prior to spilling in the bag and onto my hands. She closed the bag, signed my report and took the patient in the back. I washed my hands and said goodbye to the family.

” Mr. Watson, we have an elderly male lying on the floor in his rent subsidized apartment, dressed only in his blue, sailboat patterned pajama bottoms.”

I took a puff from my pipe and scanned the room.

“Numerous large prescription bottles on the kitchen table lead me to believe this man has multiple medical problems.”

I tapped the pipe on the kitchen table, lit a match and reignited the pungent tobacco, disguising the stale aroma of urine.

“The television is tuned to the Spanish Channel, I must surmise that this man speaks no English, thus the dull look when I asked him his name.”

“Inspector!” Watson looked up from the patient, alarmed. “See here. A scar runs down the middle of his chest!”

“Elementary, my dear Watson,” I said, stepping toward the prone patient. “Look closely. The scar is neatly formed, perfectly placed and exactly six inches in length. This is no diabolical organ thievery, this man has had open heart surgery!”

“Of course! That explains…nothing really, why is he lying on the floor?”

I crouched lower, touching the patient, looking for more clues. His skin was cool and clammy. I gently shook him, he only moaned in response. Using my penlight I looked deep into his eyes. the pupils responded.

“Mr Watson. Prepare a field glucose test. We need more information!”

As Watson drew a small droplet of blood from the mysterious man’s finger I looked for more clues, first assessing his vital signs, then giving him some supplemental oxygen.

“Inspector! His glucose level is dangerously low!”

“Of course. Prepare to solve the case!”

Now that the mystery was nearly solved, other clues became apparent. Diabetic medication was mixed with cardiac pills. A glass of orange juice, spilled next to the patient, an open and empty sugar package nearby.

Mr. Watson prepared an IV while I drew up some medication. We pushed the D-50 into the mystery man’s veins and waited. A minute passed. Slowly, his eyelids began to flutter.

“I believe we are well on our way, Mr. Watson!”
I said, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the cramped apartment. “Well done!”

The patient regained consciousness, sat up and looked around. He spoke no English but was oriented.

“We have to take him in for questioning,” I said as we cleaned up the scene. We helped him onto our stretcher and locked the door behind us as we left.

Another mystery solved.

I took a walk today, slow at first, then faster until I was almost running. Then I was running, not a graceful sprint by any means, just arms and legs pumping, my heart racing, feeling good just to be alive and well. The neighborhood where I now live is like a park where people put homes. Different trees sprouting different flowers, the ground erupting with different colors every day, the grass, freshly cut this weekend glistens with moisture from an early morning shower, only now the sun has appeared, and with the warmth the water evaporates giving the air a freshly showered feel.

No cars today, most people are at work, just me, the birds and an occasional dog walker. When I think my heart is ready to explode I slow down and stroll the last half mile, just enjoying the sounds around me. A fox sprints away from my bird feeder as I walk up my driveway. He looks a little old, grey around the whiskers and not as fast as you might think a fox would be. My neighbor who knows everything told me that foxes are not necessarily nocturnal, so rabies probably isn’t a factor. Too bad Mr. Fox didn’t hang around, we could have had breakfast together.

I’ve been told my Grandfather had a pet fox named Reginald. Maybe I’ll catch this guy and keep him.

Nah, I’ll just let him be.

All present, accounted for. I took Kieth home from Rhode Island Hospital tonight, he took the brunt of the explosion, according to witnesses was thrown thirty feet, suffered a concussion, lots of stitches to his head and hand and some bumps and bruises. Not bad for a guy who’s on the other side of fifty. Talked to the other guys, they’re home recuperating, their presence with their families the best Mothers Day Present anybody could ask for.

The police officer that was injured as badly as Kieth said he saw “bodies flying,” and wouldn’t rest until he found out if “The Firemen” were all right. He ended up in the same room as Kieth. Public safety organizations are like a big family, cops and firemen sometimes seem like distant cousins. Not tonight.

Get well brothers.

http://www.projo.com/ri/providence/content/Providence_Blowup_05-11-09_HGEB1CF_v14.3393c80.html

http://www.projo.com/news/content/PROVIDENCE_EXPLOSION_05-10-09_NUEAS0D_v17.13db1f7.html

I’ll post updates as soon as I get to the station and find out more.

http://www.projo.com/video/?nvid=360080

I left the station last night around five-thirty, couldn’t wait to get out and leave the city behind.. While I was at home, sound asleep an explosion rocked the south side of the city, a few miles away . Engine 13 and Rescue 1 were dispatched to Ocean and Pavilion for a report of a car into a house. When they arrived the car was empty but had compromised a gas meter, the smell of gas strong. A police officer stood nearby as the crews from Rescue 1 and Engine 13 began operations. The gas leak needed to be stopped, victims accounted for. A few seconds later the explosion threw the firefighters and police officer into the street, covering them with debris. Two are still hospitalized, a cop and a firefighter. The other guys are okay for now, I’ve talked to a few of them, they sound shell shocked. To be honest, I’m a little shell shocked. We joke with one another all the time, “It’s all fun and games until somebody loses an eye,” things like that. Now and then one of us gets hurt, twisted ankles, cuts and bruises, an occasional broken bone; all things that will heal. Less often but not less often enough somebody gets it badly and doesn’t return.

I’m going to make it a point to hang around at shift change, at least for a couple of minutes and catch up with people I sometimes take for granted. The guys from B Group are mostly from my training academy, the 42nd. In a few weeks or months they’ll be back, picking right up where they left off, a few more scars to add to the collection.

Get well, B-group, see you soon.

*Update*

Check out Well Involved. Great job as always!

http://wellinvolved.blogspot.com/

A middle aged man in an old man’s body shuffles into the back of the rescue, groans, then sits heavily on the bench. I follow and take my seat in the captain’s chair. He’s fifty three, looks seventy-five, and has been vomiting blood for two days. This isn’t the first time I’ve taken him in for similar problems, it may be the last. He’s about done.

“You have to stop drinking.”
“I been good for two months, just a couple a day.”
“That’s too many, you have cirrhosis of the liver.”
“My doctor said I could have a drink now and then.’
“When was that, 1968?”

He looks away, first out the rear window then at the floor. His vitals are stable, amazing how little vital signs actually tell us, he is dying. I look at him as we ride in silence toward the emergency room, knowing that within a month or two he will be dead. For now he maintains that strange fearless optimism, thinking he can go on drinking forever, as if the party will never stop. His body has quit, the mind never really got going.

Good luck, David, I say to him as we leave the hospital. He nods and looks around the ER, looking for somebody to talk to.

In case you were not aware, I’m hosting this month’s blog carnival edition of The Handover. This month’s theme is “Partners.” Anybody who has a firefighting/EMS/nursing/medical/dispatch/police/patient/documentary/whatever else fits into the theme of Partners in the emergency services world blog and would like to have a post of theirs included should mail the link to me at mmorsepfd@aol.com. The deadline is May 20th, 2009, that should give me enough time to put the thing together in some cohesive fashion, but there are no guarantees!

**For Immediate Release***

Michael Morse submitted his plan to close a $200.00 weekly deficit, and with it comes a clear cut picture of how the plan will work.

In a completely ignored news conference Monday morning on the front steps of his home, Morse focused on his proposed health care changes and five year wage freeze, as well as his under funded pension and lack of social security benefits.

Every person currently doing business with Morse is being asked to participate in his plan to balance his budget by the end of fiscal year 2010.

For example, Morse plans to stop paying co-pays for prescription drugs and doctors visits, and cutting his $100.00 emergency room payment in half with a projected annual savings of $2600.00. These fees are simply unsustainable. Supermarkets are being asked to lower their prices until this economic crisis passes, realizing an additional $1380.00 in annual savings. Wait staff in area restaurants will no longer receive the customary 15% tip, 8% will now be the norm.

Morse will defer payments to the Warwick Sewer Authority pending a decision in small claims court regarding a fire hydrant currently occupying space on his property. Morse has long maintained that water is ridiculously expensive; the judges ruling should absolve him of any payments exceeding $500.00, realizing an additional $700.00 in yearly savings.

All work performed at Morse’s hous e will be subject to a 20% co-pay by the person doing the work. Plumbers, electricians and all other contract labor will adhere to these new cost saving measures until the economic crisis passes. This plan will save the Morse budget in two ways, the contractor will charge less for work performed because their co pay will also be less. Appliance repairmen with their gold-plated “service call” fees will no longer be tolerated, a set hourly fee will be paid.

Charitable contributions will cease immediately. Also, all pets will be asked to leave. Thes pets will not be replaced until the current economic crisis passes.

The plan calls for full participation by all. If Morse can achieve concessions this year, his financial crisis will be averted, placing him in a better position for 2011.

Baby in one hand, railing in the other. She takes the first step down toward the basement, the railing pulls from the wall. Mom loses balance and begins to fall. She somehow manages to maneuver her body so that her back bears the brunt of the fall, possibly breaking a rib or two when she hits the cement steps. The baby is blissfully unaware and rests comfortably while her mother bounces down seven stairs.

She is in excruciating pain when we arrive. She managed to make her way to the top of the stairs where she sat, sobbing. Not much more than a baby herself her instinct took over at the moment of truth. Extrication is a little more bearable for her thanks to some pain management steps made prior to movement. All she cared about was if her baby was okay.

Happy Early Mother’s Day.