Barbie Band-Aid
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About this ebook
The thing is, in this particular situation, it was apparent that this medic had adopted her own temperature-taking technique and her way, one can imagine, was never taught in school!
Lillian White
After years with the ambulance, Lillian White had made the move to the oil fields in Alberta. With a strong foundation built with Emergency Services, it was soon apparent that the same standards of care were not present in the Patch. Seeing that the oil companies require first aid to show their due diligence and the first aid companies only care about money and that there's a warm body with a pulse sitting on location in their MTCs, Lillian set forth with the task of sharing with the world what being an oil field medic really means.
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Barbie Band-Aid - Lillian White
Twizzlers
About the Author
After years with the ambulance, Lillian White had made the move to the oil fields in Alberta. With a strong foundation built with Emergency Services, it was soon apparent that the same standards of care were not present in the Patch.
Seeing that the oil companies require first aid to show their due diligence and the first aid companies only care about money and that there’s a warm body with a pulse sitting on location in their MTCs, Lillian set forth with the task of sharing with the world what being an oil field medic really means.
About the Book
The purpose of a secondary survey in the EMS system is a comprehensive and thorough examination of injuries and/or illness that a patient has sustained. This entails a complete head-to-toe scan, patient history, and gathering more details to paint a clearer picture of the incident. This is also where EMS personnel would take the patient’s temperature.
The thing is, in this particular situation, it was apparent that this medic had adopted her own temperature-taking technique and her way, one can imagine, was never taught in school!
Dedication
For all the medics and mandaids who felt they were never pretty enough to keep their job with the oil company and changed out with a lululemon-wearing Barbie Band-Aid.
Copyright Information
Copyright © Lillian White (2019)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.
Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
Ordering Information:
Quantity sales: special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.
Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data
White, Lillian
Barbie Band-Aid
ISBN 9781643780597 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781643780603 (Hardback)
ISBN 9781645366775 (ePub e-book)
The main category of the book — BIOGRAPHY & AUTOBIOGRAPHY / Medical
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019908198
www.austinmacauley.com/us
First Published (2019)
Austin Macauley Publishers LLC
40 Wall Street, 28th Floor
New York, NY 10005
USA
mail-usa@austinmacauley.com
+1(646)5125767
Acknowledgement
I would like to acknowledge all the medics who inspired the creation of Barbie Band-Aid. Without your blunders, she would have never come to light. Thank you for going above and beyond the required emergency care in the Patch. Good for you!
Lil’ blond medic and her adventures in the oil patch.
First Story
Life can be tough for a woman in the oil patch, especially back in the days when gender equality had no place in the bush. Everywhere you travel, there are males and lots of them. Predominately a man’s place in this world and women were far and few between. Just ask any man… The more remote you went, the less likely you’d run into or even see another woman.
Years ago, my first experience was actually flagging on ice roads, way north of Fort Nelson. The company I had been hired by had been awarded the contract to fall and remove dangerous trees from alongside the logging roads, which meant the closest establishment for our crew was to stay at a logging camp!
Now, this camp was filled with loggers who had not been out of the bush for 60 days or more and who had not seen a woman in that same amount of time! If it weren’t for the old crippled native lady who cooked or the heavy greasy pimple-faced second cook, there would have been zero female presence in that camp. And then I showed up!
Can you just imagine this… I am a lil’ petite blond with big titties, bright blue eyes, and a warm caring smile. I will never forget the reactions of the men when I first walked into that dining hall that night. Dinner was well on the way and they were all busy shoveling in roast beef, mashed potatoes, and peas into their mouths, and then I stepped into the room. Suddenly, an eerie hush fell upon them and they all looked up from their plates. Not one sound, only 120 eyes undressing me where I stood!
Luckily, this uncomfortable silence was soon broken by the camp manager, Joe. Who himself looked like he had never left the bush and had a weasel-like quality to him as well. Something creeped me out with how his greasy bangs fell across his eyes and that odd stink that seemed to entomb him. Just looking at him gave me the creepy crawlies.
It was as if he got great pleasure in telling my boss that there was no women quarters ‘and she would have to stay in the same area as all these men,’ he pointed his crooked finger in my direction. Looking out over the many guys, I felt sick and think I nearly fell over! My mind raced with ideas of how I could leave this place. I mean don’t get me wrong, what woman wouldn’t want to be the cute woman in camp, but with 60 men who hadn’t seen another woman in 60 days? Can you say stress!!!
The first night I don’t think I slept a wink. I remember after what seemed like hours and hours of male voices just right outside my room, I finally got up, dragged my little single mattress of the bed, and positioned it against the door. Satisfied no one would be coming through my door, I think I got just a few hours’ sleep.
My first day out there on those roads was not well received at all! I think those crazy bastards thought I was there to personally piss them off and ruin their day! I heard and was called every nasty name in that book by the end of that first day. I wanted to cut of my ears and shove noise-proof something in them instead! It was explained to me time and time again by every logging truck driver that they could not be waiting here, that they had quotas to fill, and that I was ruining their run times. Like it was me who was doing this to them! Like I had nothing better to do than stand out there in the middle of nowhere with a little STOP sign to fuck with them to ruin their day! Those suckers would come flying down that icy road and at the last possible moment, kick in the Jake Brake, and they would literally slide past me until finally coming to a stop about 20 feet from where I stood and where they were supposed to. Every frigging time they did this to me. I was frazzled by the time the first long stressful day of flagging was over. I had had enough of those big logging trucks going sliding by me, those drivers jumping out of their truck and attacking me with their words. I was done for the day and wanted nothing more than to enjoy a long, hot shower.
I have to admit to you that I was freaked out when I first realized that co-ed meant having to share eight shower stalls and toilet area with these men, and now I was stressing big time ‘cause I had to shower with them all in their rooms with their doors open and others lingering in the bathrooms! Talk about nerve-racking! Setting my mind in order and figured there was first for everything, off I went with towel, shower bag, slippers, and a smile only to find the only available stall was smack dab in the middle. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they had staged that. To my utter horror, my worst nightmare was made real… Thoughts of showering in my clothes came to mind, waiting till midnight came to mind, not showering at all came to mind. But I knew I had to, had to ’man up,’ sort of speaking, and just do it. So I entered the stall, stressed my neck I’m sure from always looking up as I shed my winter clothes, and stepped naked into the stall. As the hot water hit me, I started to relax. After all, I was just having a shower, what could go wrong?
I quickly lathered my hair with shampoo and rinsed. Looking up, I found all to be well, so I shampooed once again. Then it happened: you know that feeling you get when you just know something is watching you; well, this feeling hit me hard! I didn’t wanna look up! So quickly, I rinsed the shampoo