::lemonade::

I took an EMT class in college. I got really good grades in it. Prof wanted me on the volunteer ambulance squad. I couldn't do it. I'm a mess in real-time. My brain blanks, I make the wrong call. I almost died (by which I mean had vapors) in AIT learning how to cook for 300 and being warned about food-poisoning and the fear of holding peoples lives in my hands like that had been initially debilitating. I could kill people with food. It was nerve-wracking.

So, yeah, I don't do well with life-threatening sitches. I once watched my former ED slip and fall on her ass, and I just stood over her, indecisive (that was also more a "really, she doesn't need me, so I don't need to touch her" moment, but I'm sure that it looked back on my part. I'm also the dude who laughs at people who pass out and hit their heads on the floor. So, yeah, shitty Emergency Medical personnel is me. Where I vacillate between too much concern and not enough.

Juliebird -- seriously, I'd think hard about reporting that exchange to the Child Protective Services. It's obvious the kid needs serious help, and the foster mom isn't up to giving it.

Speaking of life-threatening sitches, at my friend's mom's after-funeral brunch, my friend started seriously choking, so I know where you speak of from being frozen. (It was water going down the wrong tube, so no Heimlich was required, but for a good minute I thought we were going to have to do it.)

Juliebird, I second Theodosia's recommendation. Working with homeless and foster kids, and being a teacher, that is NOT on, and is mentally abusive. I'm not formally a mandated reporter anymore, but I'd be on the phone.

If you need to email me, or e-me for my phone, I'd be happy to look up your city's CPS and walk you through it if you feel you need to.

Not a judgement call on YOU; on those foster parents. There's calmly responding to threats, but that is BULLSHIT.

Forgive me, please, if I am butting in.

Strix, insent.

backflung, and abject thanks!

Doing breathing exercises may be relieving the pain, may be distancing me from it. Either way, good.

Could it have been muscle spasms in the upper esophagus? I've heard that hurts like hell.

I have no AC. I just keep the ceiling fans going and put off doing dishes until after dark. The worst part is trying to get dry enough after a shower to get dressed. I deal with heat okay but it's too damn cold at work. It makes me hurt.

Driving back into the city tonight from the countryside was INSANE. The lightshow from the storm centered on the city was incredible. Luckily the rain held off until a mile from the house.

Party was fun. Sarah's friends, her sisters' friends, Joe's friends, family friends, Joe's band, good music, good food. That house and namely, that YARD is MADE for parties. Stuff for kids to play on, a couple dec/patios, covered sitting area with sunshades and a fireplace, multiple firepits...it is incredible. I see where Sarah gets her projectness from... she always blamed it on her dad, but now that he's gone, her mom is keeping it up. She finished a suite that makes you feel like you're in Cape Cod, wrap-around deck and a covered-detached screen porch. All that is missing is beach.

ita, my friend B has spasms to the point he can't swallow. He can breathe, just not swallow. It is some sort of internal allergic reaction.

I get a pain like that sometimes. horrible. I think it's an odd reaction to gas. Eventually I'll burp a few times and it will go,away. Hurts like a sonovabitch until then, though.

Our President often disappoints me. That speech reminds me of why I still have expectations of him sufficient that he CAN disappoint me.