Sunday, August 28, 2011

First Week Recap

Okay peeps, this will be short and sweet.  I have approximately five minutes between the little one eating a snack and the big one waking up from his nap.  So, here it goes...

Day One:

Not too bad, I can do this.  Professors seem pretty cool so far.  Piece of cake.

Day Two:

Punched smack dab in the face by the reality of my schedule for the next four months.  The only thing that made me not hurl right there in class was that I looked around me and saw exactly how I was feeling plastered on the faces of my classmates.  Drove home with a big knot in my stomach.

Day Three:

Very long day.  Class from 8:30 am to 4:30 pm.  This was the first day of the dreaded "PHARM", aka Pharmacology!  Apparently this is the Mount Everest of the semester.  So much so that there are about seven extra people in this class because they were in our shoes a year ago and didn't make it.  However, the professor was very cool and so far has explained how the course works better than any other of the professors.  Pretty nervous about this class.

Day Four:

Uh, I really don't remember.  I'm pretty sure we had class, clinic orientation and a lab in there somewhere.  Mind. Is. Getting. Foggy.

Day Five:

Another very long day.  Dosage calculations in the morning.  The first exam is next Friday and you need a 90% to pass.  You only get three attempts at this exam and then it's so long city!  By the end of the day all the faces in the room were glossed over with a "get me outta here" look.  Mine included.

The weekend:

Trying to get organized.  In the past year and a half I have been used to only two classes at a time.  Bam, now it's five, two of which have labs!  Spent most of the day Saturday studying Pharm and then the rest of the night worrying about what I neglected while studying said Pharm. 

So basically I need a good system, fast!  Organization city here I come! 

I am proud to announce that the only breakdown I had was while folding clothes the other night when I realized I won't be able to take my boys to the first day of pre-school.  Momentary cry session, happens to the best of us.  Almost had a breakdown in the school supply aisle at Wal Mart this morning trying to figure out my new system.  I left when I realized I was shaking. 

I have met a great group of people at school already.  We've established a core study group and I think once we all get on the same page (hopefully they're are feeling as frazzled as I am right not) we'll be just fine. 

In the back of my mind I'm wondering if there will be any empty seats in class tomorrow morning.  But I can tell you one thing, mine will be OCCUPIED! 

I really have no clue when I'll have the time and/or brain power to blog again, so this is so long for now people! 

Oh, and if any of you hear a knock at your door and open it to find two really cute little boys on your doorstep...please, just feed them and keep them alive until I return.  Thank you in advance. 

Thursday, August 4, 2011

What mattered the most?

This coming Saturday, I will begin my last week as a cop.  Like I've said before, it's what I am, it's what I know and it's what I'm comfortable with.  Part of my identity will be gone as I begin the journey to discover my future identity.  I am so excited to start school, but I am so sad to leave.  I cried all the way home from work the other night just thinking about it.   

Obviously I've been doing a lot of thinking about the past 10 years.  I've seen and done a lot of stuff.  I've laughed until my stomach hurt.  I've snuck in a corner to shed tears at some of the unbelievably sad things I've seen.  I've seen someone take their last breath as the result of a homicide.  I've seen a baby born in the living room of a house.  I've put some really, really bad guys behind bars.  I've made some of the best friends of my lifetime.  I met my husband.  I've done a lot.  

People have been asking me what I'm going to miss the most.  My usual answer is "the people".  Yes, I'm going to miss these crazy, hilarious, cynical, big hearted, teddy bear muscle heads that I work with.  I will miss them everyday.  A good friend recently asked me the same question and before I could answer, she said, "You can't say 'the people'."  I don't think I ever answered her because a million things came rushing back to my mind.  A million things that have happened during the past decade.  So here it is, here's what mattered the most:

In May of 2007 I was working narcotics.  My partner and I got a case assignment on a house that was a dime a dozen.  If I remember correctly it said something very generic such as "DRUG ACTIVITY, LOTS OF NIGHT TIME TRAFFIC".  So we did our usual investigation.  A little surveillance, pulled some call history on the address and for some reason we ended up doing a little extra follow up on this run of the mill case assignment.  That extra follow up led to a search warrant which we ran a few days later.  I was doing surveillance on the house before we served the warrant.  I was all geared up and ready to go, but I wasn't on the entry team.  My job was to watch the house and let the entry team know if anything changed, as in a car pulling up, people coming and going, etc.  All went smoothly and my squad made entry.  As soon as they gave the all clear, I got out of my car and went up to the house.  My partner met me at the door and said they had four people in custody.  He also told me there was a woman in a wheelchair in the house and asked if I could talk to her and figure out how she was related to this whole mess.

I walked in the house and that is when I met Lisa for the first time.  She was sitting in a wheelchair.  She was dirty and looked like she hadn't showered in days.  She was scared and didn't know what was going on.  She had kind eyes and as I found out later, a huge heart.  Lisa was born with muscular dystrophy.  She was diagnosed at birth and had been very well taken care of most of her life.  I talked to Lisa and found out that this was her parents house.  They, along with her oldest brother, had all passed away within the past few years.  The passing of her family within such a short time span left Lisa's care to her older brother.  He, whose name I'll leave out, had chosen a life of drugs and crime.  He was now to such a low point in his life where he was letting a drug dealer live with him and his disabled sister in their parents house.  He was so low that he was letting the dealer have the main bedroom in the house that had access to the only shower that Lisa could use. 

Lisa had been living in the house with her brother, a drug dealer and other addicts that were just drifting in and out.  I asked Lisa if she was okay.  She said she was scared but she was glad we were there.  She told me that the only way she ate or drank anything was when one of her brothers friends would make some coffee or noodles or potatoes and he would give her some.  A little bit of coffee in the mornings was all Lisa usually had to drink during a normal day.  I have no idea how long it had been since she had had a bath or brushed her teeth, but it had been way too long.  She asked me if I could help her use the restroom, which I did.  Her clothes and underpants were soiled.  I had to physically lift her out of her wheel chair onto the toilet and I knew that no one currently living in this house had had the decency to help her to the same.   

I took Lisa outside to the back patio and continued talking to her.  I told her that I was really worried about her and asked if I could call an ambulance to come check her vital signs.  She agreed and the ambulance came.  We all made the decision that Lisa probably needed to go to a hospital to get checked out.  It had been a really long time since she had seen a doctor, even though she had muscular dystrophy.  She reluctantly agreed to go.  I rode in the ambulance with her and held her hand.  When we arrived at the hospital, she was so dehydrated, they couldn't draw her blood.  They had to bring in a specialist to do a deep blood draw which basically meant they plunged a needle about an inch into her arm to retrieve the blood. 

Before we left for the hospital, I had called a few ladies from Lisa's childhood church.  She had their numbers memorized and they were the next closest people to her.  One of them, Cheryl, met us at the hospital with her husband.  She told me how her and another church member had tried several times to check on Lisa, but that no one would ever let them in the house or answer the phone.  They had tried over and over with no luck.  They had even called DHS to report that Lisa might be in danger, but, as all other state and city run agencies operate, they have a huge case load and no one had quite made it to her yet.  Cheryl had been Lisa's Sunday school teacher when she was a kid.  Lisa was so happy to see her.  She was so scared and it was good for her to have a familiar face at the hospital.  I still keep in touch with Cheryl today.  Hi Cheryl! 

Cheryl stayed for a few hours and eventually left, telling Lisa she would be back in the morning.  I left at around 1:00am.  Lisa said she was scared and didn't want me to go.  I told her I would be back in the morning too.  Looking back on it, I should have stayed.  I should have sat with her all night.  I didn't have kids at the time.  In fact, I'm almost positive I was pregnant with my oldest at the time I met her, I just didn't know it yet.  But I left.  My partner came to pick me up and we left.  We got a block away from the hospital and I had tears streaming down my face.  I almost told him to turn around and take me back, but I didn't.  I left.  I wish I could go back and change that decision.  

I visited Lisa everyday int he hospital for the next few weeks.  Lisa had a mass in her uterus and ultimately had a hysterectomy.  She came through the surgery fine and was eventually moved to an assisted living facility.  She was happy.  She got to sing and go to church again.  She once told me that she loved her brother but she knew what he was doing to her wasn't right.  In that same conversation she told me she knew God had sent us to her that day.  He had sent us to get her out of that house.

The last time I saw Lisa was on her 48th birthday.  I met Cheryl at Lisa's assisted living home and we visited with her.  We brought her flowers, gifts and balloons.  It was so great to see her so happy.  She was such a special person.  Even through all the times she was living in that house and not being taken care of, she never lost her faith.  She still read her bible and sang in her room.

A lot of people gave me credit alone for Lisa, which I never felt was right.  Lisa's story leaked out through the department and many officers came to visit her in the hospital.  I was and always will be grateful for the people that took the time to see her, bring her gifts and send her cards.  I even got a little flack because I refused to be part of a news story about Lisa.  She had been through so much and the last thing I thought she needed was a bunch of reporters and cameras in her face.
 
So, Lisa is what mattered the most.  Getting her out of that house.  Putting her brother and his buddies in jail.  She is what mattered.  One life that was almost forgotten, but by a twist of fate, was rescued and revived.  The fact is, that any other cop in my shoes would have done the exact same thing.  They would have taken her out of that house and got her the medical attention she needed.  I just happened to be the lucky one that got to do it. 

Lisa passed away about a year after the last time I saw her.  I, along with the Sergeant I had at the time we met Lisa, went to her funeral.  It was small, but beautiful.  I got to say goodbye to her.  What mattered the most in my career is that Lisa had the chance to live again.

So I guess the next time someone asks me what I'll miss the most, I'll tell them about Lisa.  All the Lisa's that we come across during our time as cops matter.  Everyone has a Lisa story.  Dont' forget your Lisa story.  Write it down and tell people about it.  If you haven't experienced your Lisa story yet, you will.  When it happens, you will do your job and do the right thing.  It will be what matters the most.