Posted on by Julie Deziel

Hidden

Shinedown “Through The Ghost” posted at the end of the blog. Feel free to play it will reading. Very thought provoking song. I do not own the rights to the music.

Who as a child did not play the game of hide and seek. Oh the excitement as you waited as they counted to ten or twenty and heard the words; ready or not here I come.” Holding your breathe so they did not hear you as they looked behind the couch and you may have even shut your eyes believing that by doing so you became invisible and there was absolutely no way they could ever find you.

Through the years I cannot deny I have simply wanted to shut my eyes and pretend I am invisible, that I do not exist, that I am a ghost that not a single soul can see me. I have tried to hide myself away from all that I encounter just so they will not know me…as I know me.

I boast oftentimes that I am the “queen of the mask” and I have drawers full of different ones. I can pull one out at the drop of a hat, for any situation. I do this so that I can hide myself away. I can find a way to cope with all that I hear through the 911s I hear. I can cover myself with the dust of an old mask of anxiety as I wait for the next tragedy. The tragedy of it all is that I no longer see myself. It seems the color of who am is blank. The senselessness and hopelessness has overtaken the color of my soul.

I am pained that through all the aid given, all the proper authority that has been sent, all the abuse taken by the upset and angry individuals, and all the tears cried with the hurt and desperate that the world with never know me as I once knew me…for I live within a shell of a ghost. It is easier to hide myself away. I have found that shadows allow me to live and function forward. The world will not know me as I had once known me. Time has taken its toll. I will remain behind the shadows as I take my place behind the mic where the only part of me exposed is my voice. My voice is my mask and the callers becomes a part of my army of ghosts that I will live through tomorrow. Excuse me. The line is ringing once again that I cannot hide from. “911, where is your emergency?”

Posted on by Julie Deziel

The Silence is Deafening

There is no denying that a train makes a statement. With its large lumbering engines blowing their horns at every intersection to the rumbling of the ground as they pass by at 60 miles per hour as we sit on the roadway and wait for each of the train cars to make it through and we can continue on with our day. For many it is an opportunity to check their social media pages or make a phone call or another to touch up their makeup or just to simply get lost in thought. Even though it is so loud and annoying to me personally…that silence is deafening.

I have written before about my son-in-law who we lost six months ago to an undetected heart condition. We are still reeling over that tragedy. Having worked in the EMS world I know that tragedy happens and it is definitely not choosy. My youngest son and I experienced a terrible car accident years ago and I remember the look of my children and family when I was able to see them and the fear in their eyes. I do not wish that on anyone. As I have walked with an officer to deliver the news to a young mother her husband will not return home, I wish none of our officers ever had to knock on that door and see the absolute horror in a parent’s face as they know what is coming.

As I put another year as a 911 dispatcher behind me…23 years actually, a scenario that just seemed unimaginable recently occurred at the end of a long shift. I experienced a 911 call that was eerily similar to my son-in- law’s situation. There is no training for this type of situation. During the most devastating moment of the caller’s life all I could do was think of my daughter having to make that exact same call. As I walked through the information I needed I wanted to assure them they were not alone just as I prayed my daughter did not feel. As they waited for help to come and the caller and I worked together I am most certain was a lifetime for an “actual person” to get there. Even though I was “with them”, I can only think they felt a crippling silence from their most loved. When ambulance and law enforcement arrived I was able to disconnect and even though there were two other dispatchers in the room all I heard was a deafening silence.

As the words from Disturbed’s “Prayer” sing out, “Another dream that will never come true just to compliment your sorrow. Another life that I’ve taken from you, a gift to add on to your pain and suffering. Another truth you can never believe has crippled you completely. All the cries you’re beginning to hear trapped in your mind, and the sound is deafening.” This is the life of a 911 dispatcher. You carry the sounds, the sorrow, the horror and they find you in the silence and it can most deafening in those moments. I do not wish that on another soul. I think about the dispatcher that took my daughter’s call often. I am so sad she had to comfort my daughter on the worst day of her life at the moment I would have given anything to have stood in for her.

I will continue to watch the trains go by and hope for a glimpse of a baseball cap and sunglasses and a smiling Geoff riding along with his buddies and silently remember all those lives I have been a part of through a loud siren ringing telephone when it pierced the silence of the dispatch center.

Posted on by Julie Deziel

The Window

“The soul can speak through the eyes,
and kiss with a look.”

-Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer-

A simple edited picture of me. When I first looked at it I thought it was a rather cool picture and my eyes really stood out. But I looked a little deeper into them and they spoke volumes to me. I would believe that many have heard the saying “eyes are the window to the soul.” I have learned in life that the soul is what leaves our body when we die but is also the spirit and essence of a person and is composed by all the mental abilities: reason, character, feeling, memory, perception and thinking. It is a book of who we are physically and spiritually.

When I was younger as we drove along the neighborhood streets I loved to imagine beyond the windows of a home in the evening picturing the lives of those inside. Do they live the Beaver Cleaver world? Do they have every toy and electronic under the Christmas tree to ensure that Santa requests were fulfilled. I still ponder the lives on a quiet drive through a neighborhood thinking who is there and what secrets are hidden behind their windows. Is there financial struggle or is their a lonely spouse following the loss of their beloved spouse through death. If we could take a walk up to the window to see further inside we could understand the narrative of their lives.

We each have a story no doubt. We are born and grow up and go through school with some being a jock and popular and some, like me, a wallflower who centered on music. My narration follows that same path throughout my adult life. I have remained the quiet and shy gal who loves with her whole heart those who I have let into my life. Through EMS work I have seen the joy of life entering life and seen the sadness of life leave a body. I have seen horrific scenes that are imprinted within my memory bank. As I progressed into 911 dispatching I no longer have to “see” but now “hear” the scenes, the horror of family discord, the devastating sadness of the realization that one’s loved one will no longer look at them, speak to them or spend another moment with them. Each one lays within my soul and travels with me along the highways and byways of my life. Be it a friend or a tragedy that encompass a memory of what is held inside they each are seen in my eye; my truth, my emotions, my fear, my happiness, my intensity, and my sorrow.

We as a family have traveled the grief road over the past year and a half in losing five family members but especially in the last five months our eyes hurt, our eyes are tired. My soul is exhausted and torn. Strength and faith are shook to their core and there is an overwhelming feeling of going under. I know I have the strength of our Lord who holds my heart and soul in his hands and will hold my tears and will dry my eyes. For now the windows to my soul are tinged a little red and swollen but they still remain intriguingly beautiful, not just because of their blue color but because of the words they hold within and everything the soul knows and continues to thirst for.

Posted on by Julie Deziel

I Have Mail

I love the holiday season. I can spend all day sitting admiring my Christmas tree all decorated and soaking in the smell of Christmas wafting from the oven. One of my favorites of the season though is checking the mailbox and finding out that I have mail and it includes those special envelopes from friends and family wishing our household a “Merry Christmas”..

I work in an environment that does not bring much good news. Those that reach out on 911 do not do so to let us know they have a new grandchild or they won at bingo or they are getting company over the holiday season. They unfortunately call on their worst day no matter what time of year.

This year has seemed to be a different year in the center. Communities being in lock down brought struggles that families were not familiar with which brought out more violence, more juvenile issues and substance abuse. As the crisis has continued to drag on and continued lock downs, be it schools or businesses, it has has wreaked havoc mentally and financially on many. The tentacles reach throughout on the crisis lines, mental health providers, emergency rooms, and our 911 lines.

It seems as if death has enveloped me lately. Recently I was involved in 3 CPR in progress calls within a 24 hour period. Over this past weekend there were 2 unattended deaths in 12 hours. There are many ambulance call for services and later an obituary is viewed in the local newspapers. It may or may not be related to the medical crisis sweeping across the United States. It could be due to an internal struggle they have or an undiagnosed medical issue or simply old age took over their tired body. I turn on the National news and there is the never ending broadcast of doom and gloom and the out of sight crescendo of death due to CoVid-19 and no matter where a person goes to on social media you cannot simply will not escape it. It is suffocating. It is almost as if I can actually feel the death as a formidable item. It is exhausting and overwhelming most days.

Tomorrow though I will walk through the locked doors of the 911 doors and prepare to take the calls of another individual who is having their worst day; short of breath, high fever, or a young wife finding their husband laying lifeless on the floor. I will do my job. I will check my mailbox on my way out of the driveway in hopes that it will present me with a little joy; an envelope filled with a peaceful scene or a goofy Christmas scene but both sending love with the pictures of the family and signatures of season greetings. I will FEEL alive and hopeful…for now.

I pray you are enveloped in much love and peace this holiday season.

Posted on by Julie Deziel

Rock On

As a 911 dispatcher we are perceived to be strong type-A personality types. We answer that phone by the second ring and make extremely fast decisions in some of the most tragic moments of other’s lives. We attempt to deal with these calls so they do not follow us home. We appear to be strong, a rock; handling it all with ease; nothing can shake us.

My surroundings were thrown into chaos and all the dust around me was stirred up. At times I felt I could not see through the darkness. My world was rocked. It was shook to its core in the last month in that same environment that I feel my strongest while taking calls on another’s worst day. The walls of my life that project a strong, capable woman were shaken so hard that it left a shell of woman that I do not even know. I feel I am lost to who I am and it is scary. I believe I gave power to another person who i have no relationship with seems impossible. To allow another to intimidate and defeat me is almost humiliating.

I am rocked each time they walk into the room…rock me until my heart is beating close to 120 bpm. Rock me until my breathing is deep and fast, until I am sweaty, until the room seems to spin. The core of who I am has forever been changed.

I will bounce back but I will at times relive what was done to me. I will feel those icky feelings of post-traumatic stress. I will have to face the monster who made me feel unsafe regularly. But…I will rock on. I will put on my mask and simply pretend that I am okay because that is what those of us who are strong rocks in our line of work do. It is expected…for a rock is strong. It does not break.

Rock on my friend, rock on.

Posted on by Julie Deziel

A Hard Goodbye

“911, where is your emergency?……

The sun sets. All the good, all the bad, all the uncertainty and all the worrying that came with the day is complete. As my head lays down on the pillow I can say a soft goodbye to this day. After a few hours of sleep the sun will rise once again and a new day will dawn.

Over the past 2 shifts as a 911 dispatcher I was privy to two calls of children each having found a parent deceased and another working with my partner who took a call of another deceased person. These calls are obviously hard to take and listen “with.” You can feel the heartbreak and loss with the caller as to what is unfolding in front of them. You can feel the shroud of darkness within their voice. It is a type of call that simply will never become “easy” to take or one that, as a dispatcher, “you get used to.”

I know I will take those calls with me when I shut the door behind me at the end of the day. I will think about the caller, the victim, the loved ones left behind and how very much their lives changed in that very moment. At sunset the past few days, did they each think about their own lives and who they held close in it and realize how fast it can end? Did they have an opportunity to say a goodbye to their loved ones before their eyes closed for the last time; before they awoke to a new heavenly day?

These three lives impacted me. They came home with me. I will carry them upstairs with me tonight. They have shown me though that:

Life is short.

We are here to LIVE and live we must.

Worrying will not change the outcome.

Love with all you have.

Yesterday was lived so there is no reason to relive it.

An I love you is a precious phrase, and

Tomorrow’s are never promised so live and love with all you have.

The sun set on their lives and in a way it set even on those that loved them so deeply. It is dark for them and will be hard to see any light for a period of time. Tomorrow though the sun will peek over the horizon promising a new day as hard as it is to imagine for them. As A. A. Milne wrote from Winnie the Pooh, “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbyes so hard.”

At the right time as a dispatcher we disconnect with our callers. We do not hang up first, the original caller hangs up. There is always a goodbye. In situations such as these, they are hard goodbyes. I understand the loss. I understand the upcoming hard final goodbye.

Goodbyes though are not forever…that we are promised.

“I will let you go, but if you need anything please go ahead and call back, okay? Okay. Goodbye”. Call disconnects………

Posted on by Julie Deziel · 1 Comment

How Can You Not Smile?


Oh my!  The joy that a smile of a small child can emulate.  Who can resist the chunky cheeks and a hidden dimple that now presents itself?  A smile will cross each of our faces and for a moment in time the stress in our lives simply melts away.  That joy in their laughter is contagious and virtually pushes out any stress and difficulty that are held within ourselves.  

Working as a 911 dispatcher it often brings along extreme amounts of stress, I often search for ways to let go of the stress so I do not bring it home.  There are those calls that simply attach themselves to my shoulders and climb in the car with me that even listening to Ozzy Osbourne cranked so loud that even the deer turn their heads that does not drown them out.  They will sit there with me on the couch and crawl into bed with me doing their absolute best to ensure they are remembered.  Our brains are wired to remember; not forget.  It will work so very hard to remember even the worst memory.  It is a tough battle fighting against the brain wanting to remember and I know to remember those difficult calls can be detrimental to me personally.  I KNOW that I should not dwell on those calls and work through them.  It is difficult though when I may face the same type of call multiple times within the month or even the same week that compounds the healing process.  I have to dig deep within my bag of tools I have learned through counseling and trial and err to ensure I do not become consumed by those memories.

Those same tools need to be utilized in my day to day stressors in life.  Each life comes with difficulty and so often I have to find ways to get through them, at times weeks or even months.  The joy can be as if it is hidden within a word search and I have to find it in the dark.  Working at a stress-filled job certainly has not made me a pro at handling tough days or periods of life or given me the ability to make good decisions such as I have to do in my job which have to be done in a manner that makes the difference between life and death.  I have to take the same tools I use to work through those tough calls into my personal trials.  

Through my fifty-four years of life and through my chosen path of work I have learned that life is simply too short. In life there is pain and each of us will makes mistakes that will haunt us to the very end of our lives, and at times it seems we carry the weight of the world on our shoulders. The biggest lesson learned though is to take that extra moment to hear that little one laugh and memorize the dimple when they smile.  Kiss the chunky cheeks and feel the stress quietly slip away for a moment.  I have found the most simple joy that fills me to the deepest parts of my soul through the smiles and laughter of my grandchildren.  They allow me the grace to let it all go.  Tomorrow will be a new day with new stressors but for today I will smile along with them and bring the sweet memories of my own children when they were little and the wonderful joy they brought me with those same smiles and innocent giggles.  

Posted on by Julie Deziel · 2 Comments

The Door is Open, Please Come In


I walked into your house today.  Yes, I was invited in from the moment I answered the phone but I certainly preferred not to be there.  You sat me down at the kitchen table and told me the most personal aspects of your life and your marriage,  I did not want to be caught up in so much drama.  Tonight you both have had a few too many alcoholic beverages and you have decided it was time to bring up every sin you believed your husband committed in your relationship.  These are things that should be kept between a husband and a wife.  Tonight, you as a couple could not talk it out and it became more than a talk and now you have asked me in.  I cannot unknow your story.  I see you when we are grocery shopping.  I will know you but you will have no clue it was me you let in and told all your secrets to. 

Tonight I listened to your screams and I screamed inside myself right alongside you as your loved one had just committed suicide.  I shook as I sent help to you knowing there was no hope as you had described the scene to me.  I was on your shoulder as you cried, “Why?” I walked around the house with you as you did simple things that occupied you so we could keep our minds off the horror of what had just happened in the bedroom.  Even though I was right there with you, there was nothing but my forced calm voice to attempt to bring you out of your hysteria.  We were sharing your absolute worst moment.  I was there for you but there was no one for me.  I had to go it alone.  You were going to be able to have family present to comfort you.  Surely you will not think of me but I will think of you for many years to come.

One very early morning you awoke and were forced to call me to tell me the love of your life was gone; peacefully finding eternal rest in his favorite chair in the living room.  You do not want me to hang up with you while you wait alone for those I have sent to you on your absolutely worst day.  You take me in and set me down on the couch beside you as you hold his hand and gently cry and tell me how much you love him.  I hear the story of how you met a strapping young man all those years ago at a county fair and how he has had your heart all these years and you ask how you will go on.  I ask about your children and grandchildren and hear about the immense love he had for them and the jokester that he was.  The responders are there and will soon enter your home but before they do I am witness to a very special kiss and a whispered, “I love you honey.  I love you so” as your quiet sobs are muffled against his cheeks and you leave your tears with him.  My tears are mixed with yours though you never saw them.

The ring of a phone and the simple line of “911, where is your emergency?” brings law enforcement, an ambulance or a fire department but it first brings a dispatcher, the true first responder, into your home, into your life, into incredibly personal moments.  You hang up.  You shut the door that you so willingly unknowingly had me walk through.  I was there for you; never leaving you alone in your time of need.  You more often than not will not think of me again…but from this moment though you do not leave me.