Call 911!

I just got a call from my little sister in Colorado. My dad went to the hospital last night with some chest pain, and one day into the hospital testing, it looks like nothing major is wrong. What a relief!

That being said, I have to admit my dad – loving him dearly as I do – was very stupid last night. He thought he might be having a heart attack, so he got up, dressed, didn’t call any one to let them know what was going on, and drove himself to the hospital. Not only is this dumb – it’s medically dangerous.

If my dad had been having a heart attack, and it got really bad, he wouldn’t have been able to drive, so he probably would’ve had a wreck - endangering himself and possibly other motorists. Thankfully nothing like that happened and he made it to the hospital without incident…
I can tell you from my experience in the emergency room (as a social worker) that is not always the case. Sometimes people do end up in nasty wrecks because they collapsed at the wheel, trying to drive themselves to the hospital. And, there’s just no reason for that.

I understand “stubborn,” “hard headed,” and all the other words used to describe people who aren’t fond of doctors, and would rather hop behind the wheel and handle it themselves than call 911. But, “stubborn” doesn’t cut it when you’re endangering yourself and others using your “hard head” to avoid an ambulance bill – and the prompt, effective medical treatment that comes with that bill.

Before I went to EMT school (some years back), I didn’t understand what went on in the back of an ambulance. Things like oxygen masks, and people strapped down to back boards…CPR, and excitement and a rough ride involving lights and sirens…as seen on TV. And, while there that all goes on, there is also medical care happening that can change outcomes and save lives.

A good paramedic is amazing, when it comes to staying cool, thinking clearly and moving quickly in a difficult situation. Give that paramedic a skilled EMT partner, and you have some crazy great medical care going on – on the way to the hospital. Doesn’t that sound better than hopping behind the wheel and hoping for the best?

My observation is that if it really is your time to go, a good paramedic can’t save you. But, if you’ve fallen through some cosmic crack and today’s not really your day to die – an ambulance ride with a good paramedic can keep you from heading towards that white light until it really is your time.

So…if you think you’re having a heart attack or a stroke or any other serious medical event – call 911. The ambulance will show up quickly and your treatment will begin the moment those medics walk through your door.

Another thing that is important to do - in the unfortunate event of an emergency - is to have the information the medical people need to treat you, right there obvious and easily accessible in your wallet, cell phone and pocket book. That would include: basic medical history (medical conditions, drug allergies, doctor’s name, and what medicines you take); and, who to contact – names, relationship, land line, work number and cell.

Carrying these details with you gives the medical people the information they need to start treating you, and it gives the social worker the information she needs to contact your family and get them to the hospital.

I make my family carry little cards in their wallets that state name, medical conditions, drug allergies, MD name and emergency contacts. I make them wrap those little cards around their insurance card, so they will be one of the first things the ER staff takes a look at. I also make them put identifiers in their cell phone numbers – Emmi-daughter; Dylan-son; Lorin-wife – so anyone who had their phone would know who to call.

This all may seem a little paranoid, but emergencies, by nature, happen suddenly, are not expected, and require prompt action. There is no excuse not to maximize one’s chances of making it through with the best possible medical care and the least possible trauma to the ones we love.

So, the next time you – or anyone you love – feels like they really are having a medical emergency, the action plan is “Call 911.” Then, all that good information in the cell phone and the wallet will help the paramedics and ER staff do as good a job as possible in handling the problem.

And, then, after the smoke clears, you won’t be left wondering (God forbid!) if Dad would’ve made it, if he had only called the ambulance…or (better case) Dad won’t have to hear an unwelcome lecture about how stupid he was, driving himself to the hospital, while still lying there, in that uncomfortable hospital bed…

Pop

“Pop” passed away this week. He wasn’t my “Pop” – he was my son-in-law’s. And, he sure played a big role in my son-in-law’s life. I can’t recall a single conversation about his family that my son-in-law didn’t include something about Pop, which is quite something, considering my son-in-law is nearly 30, with a wife and a life of his own.

I only met Pop a few times; the things I remember about him were his wise, kind eyes – with more than a hint of humor in them – and, his deep, deep Southern voice. He had that kind of Southern accent the rest of the country wishes they had - slow, soft, rolling, no hint of a twang.

While I have only heard a little about the Pop who was the grandpa of my son-in-law when he was a boy, based on how close they remained, they must have had some pretty good times. There were tales of a trip to Estes Park, Colorado with Meme (Pop’s wife of nearly 60 years) and Pop; and, tales of time spent in their trailer on a lot in the mountains nearby. It sounded like there was always lots of good food and plenty of laughter and more than enough Tom-foolery to go around…

As an adult, my son-in-law would sometimes receive the gift of a shirt – one Pop had worn “back in the day” - that somehow fit his grandson perfectly, and had that hint of “retro” that made it a fashion find. Pop’s jackets and suits had the same effect, as they were doled out, with seeming perfect timing, as my son-in-law came of age, and became a man.

The week my daughter and son-in-law were married was full of sweet stories and gestures on both family’s parts. I remember, in particular, the excitement with which my son-in-law came over early one morning, carrying an old photo in an antique-looking frame. It was of Meme and Pop on their wedding day, and, young Pop bore a more than striking resemblance to his grandson, our groom, my son-in-law about to be.

“See,” he said with unabashed excitement. “I look just like Pop!”

Also that week I got to hear the story of Meme and Pop, from Meme. She said they were in the second grade together, and one day Pop brought his duck for show-and-tell.
“He had on short pants, and he was standing there, so proud, just holding that duck,” Meme said. “I knew right then, he was the one for me.”

They were sweethearts for 77 more years, with Pop passing on just before their 60th anniversary. She said Pop used to bring her funny little treats, like a bag of cherries or a piece of gum…maybe that’s why my son-in-law used to appear at our door, when he was still courting, with a single rose, or several gardenias, or some other pretty sweet-smelling treat – usually picked from Meme and Pop’s yard.

Men like Pop are the unwavering, ever present, cornerstones of families lucky and blessed enough to have such a guardian, champion, director and friend. And, men like these set such strong, solid examples that it is hard for their families not to follow in their foot steps and raise strong, solid families of their own.

These Pops, Grampas, PeePaws (or whatever they are called) are the first to offer a piece of candy or ask you to come sit in their lap, and the last person on this earth you want to hear a word of disappointment or correction from. Those of us lucky enough to have had such a force in our lives work hard to follow in those big footsteps, even after Grampa or PeePaw is gone. And, we miss them – their laughter, their humor, their gifts of old clothes and wisdom, for so very long after they’re gone.

So, rest in peace, Pop, and know that you affected so many, so profoundly – even those like me that barely circled around the edge of your life, and your family – were touched by the way you loved and were loved so deeply.

Some men leave a bigger hole than others, when they go; and, that is the case with Pop. Our hearts and prayers go out to each family that has lost their “Pop,” as it is a hurt that eases with time, but never, ever, really goes away.

Weddings

Partners…tied together by stuff too difficult to explain to someone new.”

One of my jobs is wedding photographer, so I have the privilege and honor of seeing a lot of couples tie the knot. And, while all weddings are similar in goal, each is unique in execution.

Some weddings are very laid back and casual…maybe it’s a second marriage, or maybe the couple is so low-key and in love that they are able to remain focused on what really matters - which is that they are having a ceremony to formally and publicly unite their hearts, minds, and lives – to be followed by a party to give their friends and family a chance to celebrate that decision with them.

Other weddings are such complex three-ring circuses that even Barnum & Bailey couldn’t keep things on track. One that comes to mind involved 6 attendants each for the bride and groom, 12 junior bridesmaids and groomsmen, 4 ring boys and flower girls, and 4 long divorced-some-remarried-with-new-children parents.

Another involved a groom who had, to his credit, been a UGA football player, so he had something like 15 groomsmen, to the bride’s 9 bridesmaids. They traveled in “pods” (as the wedding coordinator called them) down the aisle, because the groomsman-to-bridesmaid ratio was so generous that one bridesmaid preceded two groomsmen down the aisle…A lovely wedding that, but so many people!

Some weddings are multi-cultural or racial, which makes for great pictures, as the two cultures bump up against each other in honor of the union that has just occurred…One family brightly clad in the formal regalia of their customs, the other dressed in the prim and proper pastels their celebrations demand…

Those weddings are fun because there are two different kinds of food, and two different types of music, and many (for each of the two cultures involved…) potentially unsettling traditions that, in the spirit of the event, have to be experienced…Christians being spun in the air in chairs by Jews…Ceremonies ending with the smashing of glasses and signing of documents called Ketubahs…Women in saris and a bride’s body painted with henna - little sparkling dots called “bindis” on her forehead…

Before one of those weddings I learned it is a tradition for the henna painted all over the bride’s body to include the groom’s initials, and that him looking for his initials is a bit of wedding night ice breaker…Pretty good tradition, I’m thinking, given the obvious wedding night jitters I’ve seen on the nervous faces of some of the couples I’ve photographed…

The ceremonies are all different, too – some pastors and officiants are more inspired, involved and joyful than others…There is the minister (or in one case, married pair of ministers, which I thought was really sweet) that has watched the bride grow up, maybe having even baptized her as an infant…And there is the hired officiant for the destination wedding who is no more known to the couple than “Adam’s Tom Cat” (as my Gramma would call a complete stranger.)

One of the “Adam’s Tom Cat” officiants had a really nice message during the ceremony, as he had the couple not only hold, but look at their hands being held together.

“Look at these hands you hold today,” he said. “For these are the hands which will hold yours on the best and worst days of your lives…These are the hands you will hold when you are sick and when you are well…When your children are born and when – God forbid – something wrong happens to them…These are the hands you will turn to for comfort, your whole lives long…And, they are the last hands you will hold, as you leave this earth, thankful that you had each other as company all the days of your lives…”

Wonderful message, that…And, there was a really inspired, fired up minister at a multi-cultural wedding talking about how hard marriage is, and that “what you are doing today is agreeing to be the loudest voice at the 50-yard line” when your spouse succeeds, and “the only voice left in the dark stadium where everyone else has gone home” when your spouse fails…He talked about how what makes a couple a couple – each couple special unto itself – is the private time, jokes and laughs that no one else knows about.

“I guarantee you that today, and tomorrow, and the next day, and many days after that, something will happen between the two of you to cause you to laugh - deep belly laughs – and no one else will notice or have been there. But years from now, something will trigger a memory of that event and that laughter, and you will both smile – no matter how old you are, or how long you’ve been married…That is the friendship and union you are entering into today,” that minister said.

And, what a fine thought that is…For all of us old married couples and all of those newlyweds being photographed…A club, exclusive membership, only you and your best friend for life get to belong…Forever, or at least “’til death do you part”…What a grand adventure, and what a fun thing to get to experience each time a couple chooses me to capture those particular memories…an honor and an privilege.