Stress days.

How you conquer stress determines your worth.

With that said, I don’t think very well under stress at all; however, my husband excels under it. It improves his focus causing him to become more efficient, except stress free days will require coaxing by me for him to accomplish things. This is when the stress in his life evolves into me glaring at him to get something….anything done, thereby causing him to do what he does best, to excel under pressure…even if it is his wife’s glare telepathically communicating said threats.

Well, that’s marital stress but we also have police related stress in our lives. Recently between shifts, my husband was cleaning his unmarked car in the station lot when three officers walked over telling him to get in and drive. They spouted off an address with little details. At the scene, he found out it was a police involved shooting, which became his new shooting case.

Everything started when a robbery suspect fled the scene being pursued by police. This lead to a high speed “pursuit” (please note: it is not a high speed chase as they are illegal in Baltimore so it is called a “pursuit” as that is the appropriate, or so I am told). Then, the suspect bailed out of the get away car proceeding to shoot at the officer still inside the police cruiser. Bullets were piercing the sides of the cruiser while the officer looked for ways to return fire and get out. Under pressure, the officer could not unlock the cruiser to get out. He was stuck. This is what I am talking about right here, a perfect example of police related stress day but this time it wasn’t us. It just my husband as detective on this officer’s shooting.

I asked my husband if this man was okay, to which he told me that he is pretty shook up and took stress days. Any time there’s a major incident in the department, they give the officers directly involved time off to collect their thoughts and mentally recover from their experience before returning to duty. It is viewed as stress days because they encountered a signficant amount of stress.

I admire the officer for giving himself a reprieve so he can come back to the job afterwards. It bodes for a healthier life in the police department!

Found that wall.

It hurt just like it would for anyone hitting a wall at full speed.

A marriage to a police detecive requires a lot of trust. First, he doesn’t work normal hours. Second, he is usually talking to random people that I have never heard of before in our life. Third, criminal informants call at all hours. Fourth, I have been at dinner with him when he received a phone call causing him to leave during dinner. With all of those things that happen, it takes trust.

So on a Monday morning when I am waking my husband up so he won’t be late to work and I find “I will love you always <3 Sheri” written in ink on the back part of his upper arm, I start to wonder if I have been too trusting. Well, he definitely woke up with a start when I exclaimed, “WHO IS SHERI?” I can promise you, he was at attention faster than you can say adultery!

This time, as a seasoned veteran, I was smart by getting help right away before we started pouring salt on each other’s wounds. When you seek out the right help for your problem, it’s amazing how it can take what is starting to feel as completely hopeless, then turn it into hopeful. As the counselor put it, the question isn’t whether he had an affair but whether we had stopped taking care of us in our efforts to meet all of our other obligations?

The story of Sheri was a short one. It was a Navy prank done over the weekend that was easily confirmed when I checked into it. What seems extremely funny by intoxicated young twenty-somethings that are neither married, nor bright at 2:00 am on a Sunday, isn’t as funny to the working Mom & wife early on a Monday morning.

The Work-aholic Union.

It’s a real organization. Right? I think my husband is the president of that Union. Except, I have an issue with their hours & it’s poorly organized due to lack of planning. Maybe they need to do some work in research and development to see if this is a feasible organization before it all falls apart??

Well, I’ve been MIA from the blog because I’ve been trying to keep up with life. They cut his unit in half & his Sgt. is pregnant so he’s been going at full speed lately, as have I, to keep our home life still going. This means that I haven’t had a break so I feel burned out too. Living like this will cause problems everywhere so it’s just a matter of time before we hit that wall.

He has been working chronic 24 hour shifts lately.

Thursday morning, he came home at 3am but his phone was ringing off the hook at 4:30am. At this point, he only had 9 hours of sleep since Monday morning. When he finally answered the phone around 6:30am, he jumped to his feet and zoomed all the way into work. I didn’t hear from him until the evening to find out what happened.

I woke up on Friday by myself. Friday was also his birthday so he didn’t even take a break to celebrate it. I left him alone. He still wasn’t home by Friday night. I convinced him to take a break that evening so I could wish him a happy birthday in person for a whole five minutes before he went back into the station. I was starting to get very worried about his safety running on fumes like this. He didn’t come home until 4:30am on Saturday! The case had run him emotionally ragged because he broke down completely when he did finally lay down to sleep. He told me this case was the worst one he had come across so far in his career. The victims were brutally attacked. The events that happened make my stomach turn.

On Saturday afternoon, I took him to my parents for a birthday meal & some cake. Unfortunately, his phone rang and the witness was awake so she could identify her attacker. He zoomed back into the office while I waited to hear what was going to happen. He didn’t come home until 9am the following morning.

Much of our days have been like this. He’s home for short bits then zooms back into work for a crisis that he needs to deal with. I’m wondering how far away are we from that wall?

What’s in a nickname?

When my husband first moved out of the academy and into patrol, everyone was called appropriately by their name & title. Slowly, he became more comfortable as time went on so his personality started to shine more. He began to nickname left and right. This is when I lost track of who was who in the job. If you can’t keep track of everyone in the play then how can you follow the plot?

Well, it’s really really hard. These days, I have to stop him and say….who is Slim again? Why do you call Stan the Man, Stan the Man if his name isn’t Stan? He is the master of play on words, puns and bad puns. He even nicknamed the swing set/club house in the backyard for the kids.

One of his co-workers was nicknamed after an animal. This isn’t because he acted like an animal but late one night, he made a funny face at my husband. My husband captured the kodak moment on his camera phone calling him Zoboomafoo.  Have you ever watched the PBS show, Zoboomafoo? It’s about a lemur but it’s geared towards children. He also showed our son a picture of the human Zoboomafoo, which we received a very awestruck response to this revelation. Everytime this co-worker called, the goofy picture showed up as the “contact icon.” It always made me laugh.

Well, Zoboomafoo was responding to a call one night at a local bar with his sidekick, family man. The local bar had a roudy crowd at last call so patrol asked for assistance from the Flex Squad before it escalated. My officer arrived on the scene but spent the initial time looking for Zoboomafoo & family man, as my officer was further away than them so they should already be there. They never showed up. When other officers arrived, they back tracked looking for Zoboomafoo & family man finding them five minutes away where they had been T-Boned by a drunk driver that failed to notice their lights or hear their siren when going through an intersection. Both Zoboomafoo & family man suffered injuries as a result of the accident so they were sent to the hospital.

Notice it’s called an accident? I always found this ironic because even if it is called “an accident,” legally, no one deals with it as an accident. Someone is always at fault. Think the drunk driver knew he or she was going to hit an unmarked police car sending two city officers to the hospital when the driver got behind the wheel? Would the driver take it back if that was an option? I hope so. Was it the driver’s fault? Of course! Maybe we should revise the definition of “accident?”

Back to the story at hand….Zoboomafoo became a good friend of my officer’s many months prior to this accident. They had the same work ethic & approach to the job. Family man, on the other hand wasn’t always on good terms with my officer. The only thing they had in common was that they both have a wife and three children. Family man didn’t have a good approach to the job; however, he had an affinity for prescription drug cases. This wasn’t the focus of the Flex Squad’s goal when they were expected to pursue the gangs and drug dealers in the zone outlined for them. The squad always believed family man’s focus on prescription drug trafficking was due to a family member’s abuse of them so they let it be.

The following morning both officers were released from the hospital. Zaboomafoo had extensive damage from glass in his eyes because he hit the review mirror and went through the windshield. Unfortunately, he did not want to go on light duty so he down played his injuries while family man purposely played up the extent of his injuries for extra time off. Since the whole unit sat at the hospital, there was no hiding the extent of their injuries from anyone. It was quite clear the intentions of both on how they would deal with their jobs & injuries when leaving the hospital.

What do you think of an officer who plans to milk the system at the expense of other’s? That same officer pushes everyone in his unit into over time to take up his slack, which takes them away from their family. What do you think of an officer that doesn’t seek the medical attention he needs to further his career so he isn’t classified as an officer that is milking the system? What if that officer has a permanent injury that will affect his job? Shouldn’t he receive worker’s compensation for a line of duty injury?

Officer hit by bus.

While working in Flex, my husband became friends with Stan the Man.

Over lunch, Stan the Man told me a story of how he evened the score with his wife during a marital dispute, typical of law enforcement marriages. My husband and I went through this a lot before we realized that it was cyclical. From my experience, the way my marriage works, it is a result from the officer working an incredible amount of hours so the officer’s other half is the family manager. Then there is lack of listening owing to the frustration that each side’s complaints aren’t properly validated.

Stan used a particular incident with my husband to make his wife feel guilty when she was winning a dispute. Oh the power of manipulation! When all else fails, pull out all your stops!

Well, this incident started off when they were in the unit’s “covert” vehicle when they saw a drug dealer they wanted to pursue out on the street. I put covert in quotations because honestly, it isn’t covert. The repeat criminals in that zone already know all police vehicles, covert or not.

Once my husband saw a drug dealer dealing, then he jumped out of the vehicle to chase him  on foot while Stan followed. Stan sped up a side street to get ahead of them when he was hit by a bus in the covert vehicle. Stan proceeded on foot because he saw that the dealer started reaching for a weapon, then my husband drew his gun. After Stan arrived, patrol also arrived for the melee of arresting this drug dealer for a handgun violation, among other things.

The bus driver approached a uniformed officer asking if he had to exchange information; whereupon, he was told by patrol that no one knew what he was talking about. The bus driver left while Stan was still focused on the suspect without pausing after being hit by a bus. Stan did not publicize his accident during the melee.

Back at the station, my husband and Stan the Man spent quality time filling out reports while Stan nursed his sore muscles. Stan’s phone rang stalling their ability to finish their reports. This is when his wife picked a winning argument with him, which Stan ended by informing his wife that he had been hit by a bus. For the rest of the day, his wife was very soothing with lots of apologies.

Very nicely done Stan. Very nice.

Result: Stan recovered but learned very little.

Handcuffed police officer. (continued)

Shortly after they handcuffed my officer, the story of how this incident evolved, came to light. They also found his badge & learned that we were from the nearby military base. We weren’t charged with anything because essentially, we were just in the wrong place. Unless you want to attribute my drunken argument with the angry male locals not to punch my husband as drunk & disorderly but I view it as determination while intoxicated. Maybe it was my fiery Irish flare showing off?

After we went back to base, there was a unit meeting that I have blocked from my mind as it is still somewhat humiliating. I did not practice the art of being seen & not heard during it. The damage done during the bar incident was mostly to my husband’s glasses. Someone “sucker punched” him.

The following morning, I learned that the officers at the bar are the same officers that are also volunteer fire fighters with the unit’s chief. This means that at breakfast, the chief already knew the whole story. Who knew the possibilities in a small town like that? Word travels fast. Maybe police aren’t the only ones my husband can use the “telegraph, telephone, tell a cop” logic on.

That weekend, I earned the reputation of being a party animal with a fiery side among the military folks, since my officer has a quiet disposition, they felt we compliment each other.

Handcuffed police officer.

He was handcuffed by police four hours from home the day after he received his badge from the police department. This was one of those moments that I would have been completely horrified to witness if I hadn’t been so intoxicated at the time. Still with me here?

That’s the part he still can’t get over about that period of our life, which was  during the two weeks surrounding our wedding. We were married about 3/4 of the way through the police academy. Do not confuse his police academy with the movie, Police Academy (1984) because whenever he mentions a police academy, I think of the movie so I wanted to clarify for everyone.

The week after we were married, his Navy Reserves unit hosted a special ceremony for the newly formed security unit to celebrate everyone becoming plank owners. In proper fashion, after the ceremony, we celebrated with the unit at a local watering hole. I should clarify, I celebrated with the unit while my officer behaved himself.

 Towards the end of the night, there were several male locals that wanted to establish themselves as the locals and us as the “do not belongs so leave now.” My officer caught on quickly to the growing tension; however, I wanted to continue having fun. As my officer is calling for our tab, as well as everyone else, I was trying to talk the male locals out of establishing themselves so assertively. This entire argument took place with the bartender as our audience, by the way. Since I am not as dumb as I sound (I like to call it determined), I did realize there was no point in arguing after awhile. They weren’t as captivated by my persuasive argument as the bartender. Finally, I called it quits & turned to the bartender as I pointed to the angry male locals in front of me to inform him, “you might as well call the police now because those guys over there, are crazy.”

The details are a little fuzzy but somehow in the span of five minutes, the whole bar cleared out. I found myself being slammed into a wall while some man punched my husband. Next thing I know, the local officers are there telling me to sit down and be quiet while I glance over at my husband being cuffed to take “downtown.”

Result: My officer put me on probation for the rest of my drinking career.

Night shifts.

I encouraged my little one to whisper around his sleeping father that had just fallen asleep after another 20 hour shift. There have been too many of those lately. The little one was immersed in cartoons so I was able to quickly get ready for work and him for pre-school.

As I’m ironing, I hear “MOOOOOOOOOMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEE,” bellowed up the stairwell. I whisper back, “what do you need?” I was thinking he needed more milk or maybe a bathroom break.

“You,” is the reply that I receive.

Are cops paranoid?

Usually it’s the other way around as most often, people are paranoid when cops are nearby.

I wouldn’t call him paranoid.

I think aware is more appropriate. When we sit in restaurants, my hubs chooses a seat facing the door. He picks up on details about people around us that I would not notice. I can tell when he perks up a certain way that something is on his radar.

For instance, while attending a concert to see one of my favorite bands, we were there no longer than 20 minutes before he went into officer mode. While waiting in line for something, I noticed his body language signaled that something was on his radar. I decided to pay more attention to what we were in line for as this was in the early stages of being an officer’s wife. I wanted him to relax or let loose for once, so I took his behavior as being over enthusiastic. A large fight broke out near us but my husband was already in the center of it. He broke up the fight then gave first aid to a man with a broken nose. Concert security showed up about five minutes after the fight broke out. This fight wasn’t preempted with screaming or yelling so I wasn’t sure what brought it on.

That’s when, as a young wife, I mentally told myself not to take him out anymore because he forgets to turn his radar off. Little did I know, an officer’s radar will never turn off or go away. Our friends were giving the look of, there he goes again getting in the middle of everything as that wasn’t the first time he’s handled these kinds of situations first hand & off duty while we’re out trying to have fun. With that said, I’ve accepted the lifestyle of being married to a radar for mischief.

I’ve heard the officers’ radar referred to as being OCD, squirrely, anal retentive, etc. but at the end of the day, they come home for being this way. Recently, I gave him a hard time about having financial coverage on something that I thought was unnecessary. His reply was that he needs the coverage. I’ve debated it with him several times over a period of three months. Finally, last week, he quite plainly said that he has the kind of job where he may not come home so he likes the extra coverage for us. That was one of the rare occasions he has voiced this to me. Needless to say, he won the debate. 

About 99.9% of the time, we operate like a normal family despite the unpredictable schedule due to his job. We don’t discuss things that are that overly dramatic like this, nor is my hubs that guy. We prefer to take the cynical approach to all overly dramatic topics of that nature, which is much more entertaining & less morbid.

Last week, I read a post by Slamdunk that stayed with me after reading it, which prompted this post. It is the type of situation that my husband fears.

So, do you think cops are paranoid?

A baby with a side order of suspense.

At 39 weeks pregnant with my first child, I found myself at church for a meeting. Let me tell you, at 39 weeks pregnant, you don’t want to be anywhere or in front of anyone. You just want to hide because you feel the size of a spaceship. Not to mention all of the attention you will receive because you are about to embark on a new phase in your life with everyone there to witness it. I’m not the type that wants to be the center of attention.

I have to say, church meetings can be very boring but this was the most interesting church meeting I have ever had in my life. I don’t think anyone else will ever forget it either. 

During the meeting while we were listening to other’s speak, people would turn around to look at me. Although I made strong efforts to show neither emotion, nor physical reactions to the increasingly painful contractions I was experiencing to evade being the center of attention, I realized it was a losing battle. Prior to the meeting, I had 90 minutes worth of mild contractions but I assumed it was false labor. My physical distress was no longer something I could conceal, which resulted in the meeting concluding while everyone debated whether to send me to the hospital or call an ambulance.

I chose the less dramatic route, I called my doctor who agreed I was most likely in labor but said I could wait at home for a few hours until my contractions were closer together or come in then.

The next call was to my husband who was at work to let him know that I was in labor. I was undecided whether to go straight to the hospital or go home. My conversation with my husband was one for the baby book of which we will never forget. He answered his cell phone while passenger in a covert vehicle in an actual high speed pursuit of a suspect that had a gun intending to use it. This was my husband’s first week in the Flex Squad, somehow he had already found high suspense action. Is he a magnet for it? Can you guess his reaction to his wife in labor with his child while he was in his first hot pursuit? “Are you going to the hospital now, otherwise I have to call you back.” He further explained that if the suspect didn’t pull over, then his  Sgt. would have to ram the suspect next.I decided to wait until my contractions were closer together because I didn’t want to wait in the hospital for hours in labor. I went home to get comfortable with the help of my church committee making sure I got home okay.

Approximately six hours later, my husband came home from his exciting evening while I was still wide awake and very much in pain. He immediately fell asleep. The baby must have sensed his Dad was home because about thirty minutes later, my water broke clinching it that we had to head into the hospital. My husband’s stressed out half awake reaction to his wife’s water breaking on 30 minutes of sleep after a suspenseful night was “I hate you.” Ha. That said it all! Well, with the water breaking, my contractions had gone through the roof so we hit the ground running for the next phase of our life on no sleep. Eight hours later, our son was born happy and healthy.