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!

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?

Bruised officer.

Everyone always ask, how do you deal with your husband being a cop? While being a cop’s wife has psychological challenges, there is a special compensation. I consider it beneficial because one becomes highly skilled at making wise cracks, even at the most inappropriate of times. You will learn to find humor where there should be none. It’s a skill, not a fault. 

It has actually helped our marriage. When things are spiraling out of control, one thing after another going wrong, we’ll actually just sit there and say to ourselves….let’s see how much else can go wrong? Like the time our kitchen stove caught on fire, we actually laughed after we recovered from the scare of a fire in our kitchen or the time our second floor flooded into our living room and kitchen. It was a lot of stress replacing everything but we found ourselves cracking up over it. You have to learn to roll with the punches.

One of my first experiences with this skill was when he was actually still in patrol. My new husband came home from work with bruises on his ribs, arms, face, as well as, other body parts. It hurt me to look at him but the worst part was the media’s spin on what happened.

There was a bomb scare at a high school, which sent students outside while the school was searched. This high school was actually two high schools that shared one building while one of the schools was being renovated. In a city full of rivalries and territorial behavior this increased the level of conflict. On the front lawn, the school rivalry resulted in approximately 300 teens breaking into a fight but I think riot is the more appropriate term. Patrol officers were dispatched to provide extra support for the school police but most available officers arrived on the scene. The police had the short end of the stick with about 50 police officers v. 300 angry teenagers.

My officer drove his cruiser onto the front lawn of the school in an effort to disperse the crowd. It didn’t have much of an effect. School police released pepper spray so everyone, including police officers assisting were suffering, as well as the teenagers.

What came home from this riot was a man that had been hit, punched, etc. while the news was reporting officers used unnecessary force. That’s why I don’t read the news anymore. They report what they want to report to stir the pot or they don’t report things as favors to higher-ups so they can achieve better numbers based on how the community may respond. I often notice crime that he deals with doesn’t appear in the crime log in the newspaper. They pad the numbers.

This normally would drive me nuts but at this point, I’ve learned to just crack jokes when possible about such things. It’s part of “the job” & life.

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?

I Love a Cop

My husband’s academy class was given the book: I Love a Cop: What Police Families Need to Know at family day during the academy. I’d love to say that I immediately read it but I placed it on a bookshelf instead.

I’m not the only one who has done this either! I was reading another blog, Suddenly Cop Wife, who has also done it, click here to see her story.

In my situation, I didn’t think it was worth the effort to read this book. I viewed our relationship as invincible as we overcame all obstacles at that point in our lives. I let the book become apart of our home’s decor instead of allowing it to help us when we needed it most. The book was forgotten sitting on on the shelf for three years until a house cleaning spree brought it back to life.

All sweaty from cleaning and lifting things, I sat on the floor skimming through the pages but as I skimmed, I realized the hubs & I had already experienced some of the scenarios outlined by the author. Time passed sitting on the floor as things clicked in my head. I realized we even fit some of the stereotypical situations. Shortly thereafter, I read the novel almost from cover to cover because my curiosity, as well as its relevance to my life, took over.

My thoughts on the book? If I had the knowledge this book gave me prior to some situations that I experienced, then maybe I would have handled things better. Don’t discard it, as I did from the start, if you are given this book through similar means with a significant other about to put on the blue uniform for a paycheck. It may not seem relevant early on but at some point in time it will become relevant to your life. Arm yourself properly with the information before it becomes relevant, otherwise, it will lose value to you.

Have you read this book? What did you think?

Legally concealed

Being raised in an environment where guns were never seen, then marrying a police officer was cause for some adjustment in my perception of how my life should be. I had to accept the presence of a firearm on a daily basis; however, I married an over-achiever that will go above and beyond in everything he does. I took his desire to always carry a firearm as him being over enthusiastic, not a necessity.

Very shortly after the “do you have to” debates began, I was handed proof that he indeed had to wear a firearm on a silver platter.

Early one Saturday morning, at my stepdaughter’s soccer game, a woman came to us that my husband had helped the evening prior. She wasn’t a criminal or anyone of a threat to us or our children. Actually, she was thanking him for his help and kindness. It was at this point that all boundary lines were erased as to where his work existed. I realized that we could encounter any type of individual he dealt with at work whether we were in the city or a neighboring county, at any time with or without or children.

Since he mostly worked with drug dealers and gangs, this put a stop to my “do you have to” inquiries. Thus, I began to appreciate this legally concealed weapon as a small bit of security.

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.

The Flex Squad

The first few years of my married life were dictated by a unit called the Flex Squad. Yes, most police officers start off in patrol for awhile but mine moved quickly into a special operations unit. He wanted to gain more experience than he had in regular patrol. I was not prepared for the lifestyle that was put upon us by this move. The life you live working the Flex Squad is the equivalent of a first year associate in a large scale private law firm. They have to own you for awhile before they move you up in the ranks. Once you move up in the ranks, they own you less as it becomes a joint partnership that will allow you free time so you can have a life, I mean LIVE a life. While working without a joint partnership, he labored under enjoyed the rookie status. The only difference between him & those first year associates is his was a hostile work environment with poor working conditions, not to mention the crappy equipment. Those first years had the pretty desk, the view, and six figure salaries while they battled a corporate war through a laptop with mounds of paper as amunition.

It’s a simple name, Flex Squad, to describe what was expected of him. Did you notice it does not identify a real crime solving purpose other than being flexible to the demands of the brass’ city’s needs? He’s a cop in a large city that rests on the top ten list for violent crimes. This means, his schedule wasn’t flexible at all. In actuality, he was a prisoner to the badge.