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

Hold On. It’s the Phone . I Better Get It.

How many times does your cellphone ring a day in which you can simply hit the “ignore” button?  How many times does your office phone ring and you are able to look at the caller ID and say to yourself, “No, I will call them back later when I am back from my morning meeting.” At times it is a blessing to be able to just pick and choose which calls to answer.  I would be correct that most often the ones chosen would be the ones that come from your best friend, your mother or significant other and they may each leave you feeling good when you hang up; more often than not you are smiling or laughing at some point during your conversation. Imagine answering phone calls that brings at most times a high level of stress every time you answer that special ring; that ring that sounds like a siren to alert you that this is a special call.  A phone call from someone experiencing one of the worst moments in their life.  I do not have the option to ignore that call.  I do not have the option to call that number back after my lunch break.  I must answer that call as I am 911.

I go to work.  I walk through the back door after swiping my card and enter the building.  I swipe my card once again, take a deep breath and cross the threshold and listen to the room to get a feel for what my shift may entail.  I am in the 911 dispatch center.  I go to my locker and smile as I look at a picture of my granddaughter Harper Grace held there by a butterfly magnet.  I hang up my coat and put my food in my cupboard and fridge and take my mouse pad that has a picture of sweet Juliana as Little Miss Thief River Falls, my special pen, and my headset and I walk around the corner into the center and see where I will be spending the next 10 hours where I will orchestrate the activities throughout the county.

One aspect to this unique job is that it no day is the same and for the most part I thrive on that.  A dispatcher may simply take phone calls mainly dealing with property crimes and dependent upon which officers are manning the many miles of the county and city streets, take on many traffic stops.  Most days bring an ambulance page for an unfortunate family having a loved one facing a medical emergency and then there are the “regulars” that can bring a smile or an occasional eye roll.  Myself and any other dispatcher simply cannot ignore the ringing phone and have no clue what is coming with those rings.  It was recently that the phone sent a siren out signaling a 911 call and before I could even get the words “911, where is your emergency?” out I knew this was a call that would impact me.  Not necessarily in the same manner the caller was impacted but certainly would haunt me.  Her pain and agony could not be dismissed through the screams.  My own pain was difficult to hold in.  It brought forth foreign feelings that I did not know how to handle.  I have had difficult calls in my 19 year career previously that were difficult and similar in nature and did, unfortunately, awake these same types of feelings.  For the first time ever I could admit that the “struggle is real.”  The things that dispatcher “hears” are entirely guttural and agonizing.  Those calls do not go away as a property accident does.  It plays over and over.  In my mind I paint a picture of what is occurring or did occurr. I disconnect from that sad, difficult call and take a walk to get myself together as this night I am lucky enough to not be working alone as most often we do.  Those 10 quiet minutes alone are a blessing. I am 25 minutes away from the difficult call and 911 is ringing again for a plane that had to do a emergency landing which sends the center into high gear.  There has been no true time to deal with the difficult situation and now we are in hyper mode.  Andrenaline is at a high level.  All I ask for is a moment to catch my breath. But for now I cannot do that and I move through the chaos.  Hold on a second, its the phone. I better get it.

Life as a dispatcher…one phone call away from life changing; not just for the person calling but for the one picking it up, “911, where is your emergency?”