Notes From A Fire Chaplain | Adoption & Fire

Remembering Katrina 5 Years Later

August 25, 2010 By Wendy Leave a Comment

It’s hard to believe that Hurricane Katrina was 5 years ago. The lyric in a familiar song, ‘time keeps on slipping into the future’ seems to be the motto of my life. When a friend of mine was re-mincing about our response to Katrina, it jarred me a little. How can 5 years have already disappeared?

Responding to the aftermath of Katrina was one of those life changing events for me. Even though I had witnessed the disaster of 9/11, nothing compared to the utter devastation of what this hurricane inflicted on mile upon mile, state upon state. I couldn’t wrap my brain around most of what I was seeing. Sites, smells, and even the rancid taste in the air stayed with me for weeks after my return. To this day, when I see a windowless, white van I can’t help but think of the body recovery vehicles.

I have written two other posts about my time spent in New Orleans and St. Bernard’s Parish. You can find them here and here (I’m not sure why the pictures are messed up in the post When I get some time I will fix them). What I do want to share for this 5 year anniversary post is the fact that I had some true friends that were working side by side with me. We dealt with some tough stuff…most of the stuff the average person will never see in a lifetime. These chaplains that I got to work with, I consider the best of the best. I will never forget sitting with them in broom closets talking with a burned out paramedic, or sitting on a curb in a flooded out neighborhood waiting for the body recovery vehicles to bring the dead to the ‘reefer trucks’, or standing on I-10 overpasses ‘counseling’ the rescue workers, or going through decontamination just so we could enter back into our cars to head to base camp. So many memories with some incredible people. I couldn’t imagine a better team to work with. I couldn’t imagine a better group to process the experience.

5 years later I still have some images of that time burned into my brain but most importantly I have memories burned into my heart. The experience has made me a better person. The experience has sealed upon my heart the chaplains that I know I can count on when we are faced with something really, really bad. Those relationships were forged in flood waters, on church floors, at base camps, inside of a Navy ship library, and in the back of a D-MORT facility. When it comes to the work we do as chaplains, I can’t imagine a relationship any stronger than the ones that were built in New Orleans. And for that, I feel incredibly blessed.

Filed Under: Firehouse Jargen, Headline, Notes From A Fire Chaplain, People that Make me Happy

Reflections

January 14, 2010 By Wendy

Tonight I spent some time with a family that I met a short seven years ago. I sat at the same dining room table in their home in which we planned their son’s funeral. Seven years ago, I watched a mother stare blankly at a baked potato that her family was trying to get her to eat, barely able to concentrate on the arrangements we were discussing. Seven years ago, his sister was so angered by the tragic circumstances of his death that those emotions were carried out onto me. I was naive at the time because I thought she was angry with me. I had only worked with the families of fallen firefighters for three years and had not yet experienced the wide range of emotions that come with unexpected and often times complicated grief. Now, sever years later, I sit at the table and laugh about experiences we are having with toddlers in the house (our child and their grandchild). Seven years later they say the pain is still there but the sting has started to fade. We can smile over their memories of him, instead of cry. Seven years later his sister makes me feel like I am one of her best friends.

Seven years ago we were talking about a full honors firefighter funeral with the flags, and the honor guard, and the last alarm, and helicopter fly-overs. Seven years later we talk about a response trailer that will bear his name to honor the sacrifice that he made for his community. Seven years ago, Charles Lance Mathew became a memory when he was taken from this life too soon. Seven years later, we are carrying his memory on in the work that we will do in the future. God, we pray there is never another firefighter to fall but if there is, we go in his name.

Seven years ago I learned more from this one family and fire department than I did from any of the previous firefighters that had gone before him. His story affected me deeply. His family was burned into my heart. The lessons that I learned from them, I have used on almost every fatality case I have worked since his death. They profoundly changed the way I work and care for the new families that have come under my watch.

On March 20, 2010, two days to the day of Lance Mathew’s death, we will be honoring him and his family at the Texas Fallen Heroes Memorial Ride & Cook-Off. His family are the honorary chairmen of the event. They will be doing a wreath laying ceremony to not only honor their son but all of our Texas fallen firefighters and EMS workers. And then the trailer that is dedicated to his memory will be unveiled and put into commission. In my wildest dreams I never would have thought I would have seen a day like this come.

There has been a lot of sweat, tears, and stress with putting this event together. Many days I begin to wonder what I have done. But tonight, as we discussed the event and the trailer with them. I was reminded once again that this isn’t about me. This isn’t even about the TX LODD Task Force. This is about the families and the departments that have lost so much. This is about giving them something back. And while I know that I will continue to stress over trying to find sponsorships, and auction items, and vendors, and cook-off teams…what it really comes down to is the family. Seven years ago they were devastated. Seven years later they are elated that Lance is being honored in such a way. That makes me want to keep pushing through and to not give up, even though there are days that I feel like I should.

Never more honored, never more blessed do I feel than when I am sitting with the family of a fallen firefighter, whether it be in the throes of grief or many years later when we can laugh openly about a memory.

Filed Under: 2010: Memory Making, Headline, Helping Those Who Hurt, Notes From A Fire Chaplain

Grieving Ambiguous Losses

November 5, 2009 By Wendy

A little over a year ago, a friendship that was very dear to me came to an end. I had loved this person dearly and enjoyed the time I spent with this friend. We experienced some tremendous highs and struggled through some painful lows. We invested a lot of time, energy into our friendship. So, when our friendship was hit by a fatal blow of circumstances, the loss almost felt like a death. I turned from the path of friendship to the path of grief. To this day I still struggle with the grief of losing this friend.

The most difficult aspect of this loss was that my other friends and my family did not understand the depth of my loss. Many did not even recognize it as a loss because of its ambiguity. Because my friend was still alive, the loss was seen as uncertain or doubted because there was a possibility that we could revive that friendship. I knew in my heart that it was highly unlikely. Because of the ambiguous nature of this loss, I received very little support or comfort during my grieving process. Essentially, I was alone in my grief.

In her book, Complicated Losses Difficult Deaths, Dr. Roslyn A. Karaban writes that ambiguous losses can fall under two categories: the physical presence of the person but with psychological absence, and the physical absence of the person but with psychological presence. Here are some examples of losses for each category.

Physical presence of the person/psychological absence

Chronic illness or disabilities
Dementia
Coma
Addiction
Mental illness or issues such as depression or PTSD

Physical absence of the person/psychological presence

hostage
MIA such as the emergency workers on 9/11
Missing child
Divorce or loss of friendship/relationship

Giving a name to this type of loss gives recognition. It can help an individual feel as if they are not suffering alone or without a cause. It can help the individual in their grief process, which sometimes can be complicated. One paramedic shares his experience with the complicated grief of an ambiguous loss. “Within a sixteen month period, I lost two of my very best friends. One friend was someone I had known since childhood. The other friend was partner on the ambulance. My childhood friend was killed in a car accident. The grief that I felt was excruciating. Some days I just felt that I couldn’t go on. But for some reason, I was able to draw a sense of peace as I went through my grief process. Nearly a year later, my friend at work and I experienced a series of circumstances that caused our friendship to die. Again I was thrown into the grief process. But, this time around it was so much more difficult and I didn’t understand why until I learned about ambiguous loss. Because I still worked at the same department as my friend, I was constantly being re-exposed to the loss. It was like I was always stuck in one phase of the grief cycle. I never felt that sense of peace that I felt when I started healing from the loss of my childhood friend. To this day, and it has been nearly two years since I lost my friend from work, I am struggling with my grief.”

It is important for individuals to understand ambiguous losses and how to cope. One of the most important reasons understanding is essential is because unresolved losses can complicate and exacerbate the grief process of future losses. For emergency service workers, ambiguous losses are pretty prevalent. Because the emergency service community experiences a higher rate of divorce, addiction, mental health issues, on the job injuries and illnesses, and the loss (sometimes tragic loss) of co-workers, it is important to learn how to pinpoint when a loss has occurred.

In the adoption community, ambiguous loss abounds. For the child, it’s the loss of their birth parents. For the birth parents it’s the loss of their child. For the adoptive parent, in many cases, it’s the loss that led to the adoption process. Having read the writings from members of each of these groups, all three experience grief that is quickly dismissed or swept under the rug, therefore making the loss and grieving more complicated.

Know that if one is faced with an ambiguous loss, there will be grieving. The individual may experience psychological, physical, social, and spiritual responses–all of which are normal responses. If the affected individual knows that someone else recognizes their loss as real and substantial, their healing might be easier.

Here are some things that an individual experiencing an ambiguous loss or a care-giver/friend can do to help with the grieving process:

Use the Internet to find resources, support groups, and other materials that relates to the particular loss, i.e., injuries, divorce, loss of friendships.
Write a letter to the person that is involved in your loss, then either bury or burn the letter.
Learn to identify and express the feelings that come with the loss. Talk to friends, counselors, chaplains, and ministers. Learn to verbalize all feelings.
Reinvest ‘empty time’ into a new project or activity, especially in ones that help others. Many grieving people have stated that helping other people is what helped them the most.
Reinforce positive self-talk, especially in the event of consistent re-exposure to the loss. Negative self-talk will only make the experience more painful and healing more difficult.
Create new traditions. Most individuals have some sort of traditions that they like to follow. If a friendship dies, traditions associated with that individual tend to die, too. Making a new tradition with one’s self, a spouse, or another friend can be healing and can quite possibly open the door to new possibilities.

Ambiguous losses are real losses that can cause a person to experience tremendous pain. Knowing how to spot this type of loss and how to deal with it can really change a person’s life and their outlook on life. Since the loss of my friend, writing a letter to that person explaining my thoughts, pain, and fears has really helped me with putting a closure to that relationship. Being able to spot my particular grief and writing the letter has helped so much.

Filed Under: 2009: Reflection & Inspiration, Headline, Helping Those Who Hurt, Notes From A Fire Chaplain, Traveling Bites

Walking Into Fear

October 28, 2009 By Wendy

Most of you know that I have HUGE fear of flying! I don’t like balloons. Elevators freak me out. Flying terrifies me. It’s kind of funny to write that out because I fly all over this country, and I fly almost monthly and yet each time I board the plane I have to talk myself onto the jetway.

(Over Phoenix)

I used to love to fly! Any chance that I could get, I would fly. I had to fly to Utah in order to meet my future husband (of course I didn’t know it at the time). And then I started developing my fear. I can pretty much pinpoint it to my accident. I am extremely claustrophobic now, hence the fear of elevators. I also have some control issues with whatever environment that I am in. I have to be able to escape should an emergency occur. Part of that comes from being a firefighter and needing to know how to escape should something go terribly wrong. And part of that comes from something actually going terribly wrong for me on a fire scene. On an airplane that is hurtling through space at God only knows how many miles per hour and at a 35,000 feet , there really isn’t any great escape routes.

Once 9/11 hit and I lost my friends and then I went and witnessed the devastation first hand, my fear blew up into a complete phobia. I could not walk onto an airplane for a long, long time. In fact, it wasn’t until my sister got married that I finally stepped back onto an aircraft. I was tired of driving back and forth from Texas to California to see my family, so I decided I was going to bite the bullet and get on a flight. That first flight was horrific. I cried nearly the whole 3 hours there and back. John was the only thing that kept me from claiming a medical crisis in order to keep from landing the plane early and driving the rest of the way. But, once I took that first flight, I started to fly more and more and more. And now here I am today with one international flight, three pretty terrible in China flights, and thousands upon thousands of flight miles in country under my belt.

(Flying to China)

How do I do it? I have to simply say that I have to force myself to walk into my fear. Contrary to popular belief, it does not get easier the more I fly. In fact, I darn near get panic attacks the hours leading up to every single flight. I actually feel a little panicky right now even writing about flying. But I have learned to dissociate myself from the actual event of traveling on a plane. It sounds pretty crazy to say this but I have to get my mode of thinking away from the traveling part and onto something else. When I am at an airport, I almost have to pretend like I am not even there. I concentrate on the people. I talk on my phone or send emails. I fiddle with the magazines or newspapers that I bring along (I am too stressed to read them). I plan ahead to the place that I am going. I do whatever I can to mentally take myself out of the flying process. Dissociation works for me in order to get myself onto the plane.

(Flying over Russia)

Now, once I am on the airplane and that door is sealed and we have moved away from the jetway, I have to start a whole new approach: drugs. Yes, I have to take Valium in order to fly. My ‘fight or flight’ response is so sensitive (because of my accident) that I have a hard time controlling the physical reactions to my fear. Those reactions are increased heart rate, increased blood pressure, difficulty breathing, sweaty hands, difficulty concentrating, and shaking/jitters. So as soon as that panic button in my brain is hit, my body starts trying to fight. Now, I can live with those symptoms but it’s very uncomfortable. I have forgotten my medication on a few flights and I was a miserable wreck the entire time. When I do take my Valium on a flight, it will take away the physical symptoms but for the most part I am still pretty darn terrified. I have to then, again try and disassociate myself from being inside of an airplane. Anything that I can think of to distract myself, I will try to do. Usually going through the photos on my phone helps. Sometimes the Spirit magazine on Southwest helps. Trying to read the paper helps. But mostly what I do is little bits of busy work to keep my brain from focusing on the fact that I am no longer in control of my environment.

Lots’ of therapy, learning how to retrain my thinking, and the power of modern medicine has given me my freedom back. They have given me the ability to walk into my fear with a game plan. Being able to fly again has opened up my world to so many experiences that I never could have even imagined. Flying to China was one of those ‘wow’ moments for me. Of course I took sleeping medication to get through that flight but I did it and we are home with our beautiful, feisty daughter. The world has completely opened up to me once I faced my fears.

It’s hard to face a fear, especially one that is considered phobic. But if you have a fear such as this, I would like to encourage you to briefly face it and then put together a game plan to be able to not only face the fear but walk right into it. You never know what kind of doors will open for you! My fears have changed my life…for the better!

Filed Under: 2009: Reflection & Inspiration, Notes From A Fire Chaplain, The Corners of my Life, featured Tagged With: fear of flying

Nostalgia- Burn Camp

June 25, 2009 By Wendy

I’ve been to a lot of camps. I grew up going to outdoor ed. camp, horse camp, church camp, and all kinds of in between camp. I love, love, love camp! In the summer of 2000 I had heard about a burn camp outside of San Antonio and I knew right away that I wanted to go and be a camp counselor. I was so excited when I heard back from the camp that they wanted me also and they wanted me to be their camp chaplain. So off I went to be with other burn survivors but most of these survivors were little ones.

That week at burn camp was one of the best times of my life. I met some of the kindest, most compassionate people. I also met some kids who were extremely courageous and defied some incredible odds. Many of the children had been burned by abusers and knowing that just broke my heart but yet their spirits were not broken. I learned so many life lessons during that week of camp and I knew that the following year I just had to go back.

In 2001 instead of just going to one burn camp, I ended up spending most of my summer at three separate burn camps in three different states. The first camp was the one I had been to the previous year in San Antonio. The next camp I went to was in Northern California. That year, the camp decided to take the children on a road trip up the coast of California and into Oregon. What an incredible journey that week proved to be. We camped out at firehouses, race-car tracks, colleges, and an old motel along the route. Many of those kids had the same story as the kids in Texas. Their burns were the cause of neglect and/or abuse. All of the kids were from California and yet most of them had never seen the ocean, or stepped onto a fire truck, or hugged a teddy bear. Again, these kids proved resilient and free-spirited. Traveling the 700 miles in 6 days with nearly 50 kids was a phenomenal journey. I was even voted the best camp counselor!

The next camp I visited was in Oklahoma at a place called Dry Gulch. It was a church camp facility that looked like a western town. It really looked like a movie set and it just blew me away. They had a train that circled the camp, a zoo with a bear that had a pet cat, a petting zoo, wild buffalo, water slides and a huge lake. What was so neat about this camp were the clowns that came in and stayed in full gear the whole entire day. They even swam in their costumes and makeup. While a lot of people say they don’t like clowns, I gained a lot of respect for the people who came out to the camp and sweated it out in their full dress. It was 100 degrees on most days and yet there they were smiling and joking with the kids. I also got to witness children who had severe disabilities because of their burns do things they probably never could have imagined doing. One child with no fingers or toes scaled a rock wall with his camp counselor. Another child who was also missing fingers learned to play the guitar. It was inspiring on so many levels.

It’s hot summer days like today that make me think about those camps and how much I miss the kids and the experience of being around little souls who can change your life with a story and a smile. I hope one day that I can have the chance to go back to camp again. I would love to have just one more week sleeping in bunk beds, listening to the crickets, doing arts and crafts, and singing camp songs.