Chapter 14 - Pig Lung Hero

I keep giving my friends driving advice that they did not need, want, or ask for.  My old friend Charlie has stopped by the house for a beer and ended up staying for dinner.  He is telling me about a deer that jumped in front of his Jeep when he was driving up to Steamboat Springs.

Megan and Jake are both sitting across from me, looking happy and hungry.  I don't want to darken the mood of a happy dinner, but I cannot help myself.  Although both of my kids are in elementary school, they have heard this multiple times.  When this subject comes up, I cannot help myself.  I have to give the same bit of advice that I have given all my friends and family that are old enough to drive.   

"When you see an animal in the road, do not slam on the brakes or try to swerve around the animal."  Thank God none of the recipients of my great advice have been in the Jeep with me when I have swerved or slammed on the breaks to avoid running over a prairie dog standing on its hind legs in the middle of my lane.

"Your best bet is to honk and slow down as much as you can.  If you end up hitting the animal, it is better than swerving into another lane to cause an accident or braking so suddenly the car behind you will rear end you.  I said with a perfectly straight face.

Every firefighter has a threshold of things he cannot see or process well when they happen.  One of the most problematic things for me is to see a domestic or wild animals that gets killed as the result of a traffic accident.  Seeing the terror in the eyes of a dog, deer, or other animal that has been hit and is still alive, makes me physically sick.  Dogs and deer do not speed, drink and drive, or make terrible decisions about operating, riding in, or read cell phones in heavy traffic.  They get hurt and killed because human beings make really bad decisions in their automobiles.

One of the hardest things about being a firefighter is the stories that you cannot tell your loved ones and friends in any detail that would drive home the point you are trying to make.

My "don't swerver and run them over if you have to" story happened on Highway 66 on a late night in May.  Engine 3 was dispatched to a motorcycle vs car on the overpass on I25.  A driver who was leaving the Rocky Mountain Saloon was driving at a high rate of speed.  The dog was in the middle of the road and could not run because he was in the driver's lane on the overpass.  

The driver slammed on the breaks, hit the dog and killed him.  The motorcycle who was following the truck was unable to swerve or brake in time to avoid hitting the truck.  The motorcycle driver set down the bike.  The motorcycle driver had extensive injuries from hitting the pavement and the slide in his leather gear.  

The truck driver was uninjured and after the transport of the motorcycle rider, I was walking with the State Patrolman to see if we could find out what the driver hit.  We found the dog and looking down I felt physically sick.  Three of four legs were broken badly, and the dog was bleeding heavily from the injuries.  The dog was breathing rapid and heavy and the brown eye I could see was in complete terror.  

I had to leave the processing of the animal to Chris, my lieutenant and walked back to the Engine, genuinely shaken.

I loved volunteering at the Elementary School for both kids.  When Jake told me at dinner that he volunteered me for a project his third-grade class was working on, I was thrilled.  Since they have been in school, I always make sure our Engine and crew do the Fire Safety presentations that happen every October for the school.

Both kids love seeing me get off the big Red and Black Engine in my uniform at walk into the school with the Engine 3 crew.  I have official hero status and to see those beaming faces look back at me makes my heart soar.

I did not think to ask him what the project was.  I still have all of the THANK YOU certificates that I get every year.  One of the great things about being a dad is being a requested parent volunteer.  I would volunteer for anything on any day.   

I show up in the designated classroom in my Fire Department work shirt and the teacher tells everyone that I am a firefighter.  There are ooohs and ahhs and Jake takes my hand and walks me over to his table.

On the tables there are big plastic boxes, and the smell of bad meat is really strong.  At each table, there is a parent seated with the kids.  Each of the parents look as uncomfortable as I feel right now.  

The teacher announces that today they are going to dissect a pig heart and lungs.  There is an assumption that because I am a firefighter, I have a higher tolerance for things like this.  Nothing could be further from the truth; I am the worst person to work on this with the kids.  Chris, where are you now?  There is no one to delegate this to and my Fire Department work shirt has set the standard for how I need to stand up and do this.    

Fuck

I open the lid of the cardboard box lined with heavy plastic and a nauseating wave of smells escape from the box.  The scrambled eggs, toast, and sausage are really heavy in my stomach right now.

The teacher is walking all of the parent helpers through the dissection.  On command we all put gloves on and remove the pig heart and lung from the box.  Half of the kids at my table look like I feel.  My savior in the group is young AJ. AJ is looking horrified at the heart and the lungs on the table and is looking pale. He does not touch the heart or the lungs and when he glances over at them, he starts to look pale.

I tell him it is ok not to look and by talking to him, I don't have to look so I feel a lot better - but not looking is short lived. The teacher produces long straws and announces we are going to inflate the lungs.

I am at a table with 4 kids (including AJ). Each kid has a straw and is trying to inflate the pig lungs. It is nauseating to look at and I am trying not to look. I am coaxing each kid to blow as hard as they can. Even AJ, has come back to the table and considering an attempt to inflate a pig lung.  I keep telling him, he is OK to just watch, and he looks relieved.  Just when I think I am out of the woods, Jake hands me his straw and asks me to see how full I can blow the lungs up.

Jake, when you read this, I hope you realize how dearly and deeply I love you. There are two people on the planet I would inflate a pig lung for, the other one is your sister.  

I picked up the straw and blew hard and the lungs on the table were huge. Another round of ooohs and ahhs.  I smiled with the straw still in my mouth and all of that air in the pig lungs gets blown right back into my mouth. 

In what is without a doubt the bravest thing I will ever do as a firefighter, I smile and hand the straw back to Jake, who beaming.  My full-blown hero status is still intact. 

AJ immediately heads over to the trashcan by the teacher's desk and is heaving.  I walk over to make sure he is alright and sit with him on the pretense of calming him down.

Firefighters do not throw up in elementary school trash cans. They throw up at home after going through a half a tube of toothpaste and half a bottle of mouthwash.