<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064</id><updated>2011-07-08T02:27:42.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking In Others Shoes</title><subtitle type='html'>DON'T JUDGE A MAN UNTIL YOU HAVE WALKED A MILE IN HIS SHOES "Don't criticize another person's work until you've tried to do it yourself; don't judge another person's life until you've been forced to live it."</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>53</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-6712676579561865028</id><published>2009-09-24T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T10:59:19.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seriously? You've got to be kidding me!</title><content type='html'>Sometimes there are things just so unbelievable that you can't imaging they'd be real but also can't imagine who could make it up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*A man robs a store and takes off in his "get-away car"...that happens to have HIS 8 month old child in the backseat. Seriously? Good thing you risked your childs life for that pack of beer and cigarettes! (or whatever he stole...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*A lady calls 911 and asks us to arrest her because she doesn't have any food in her dorm and doesn't want to go grocery shopping. So if she could just go to jail she could eat without having to go all the way to the store. Seriously? You would go to jail rather than drive a few blocks up the road to the grocery store? She has the money...just no desire to shop apparently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*A guy (probably a student) calls me on a line that does not have caller-ID. He tells me (screams at me) that he needs an officer. I ask him where and he says "You eff'ing know where! Just send them!" and hangs up. A few minutes later I get a call from a guy saying there is a guy (presumably the first guy) standing in a hallway (he tells us which one) screaming. Officers go down and don't find anyone except the 2nd caller who was the complainant. After questioning him for a few minutes he tells the officers that he made both phone calls. He wanted to see how we would handle a difficult caller on the phone versus a non-difficult complaint caller. It was experiment he wanted to do...just for fun. Seriously? This guy (#1 and #2) needs to get a life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*A kid takes off running from officers. When they finally catch up to him and tackle him to the ground (they ALWAYS catch up) they ask him why he ran. He said he always wanted to know if he could outrun an officer and now seemed like the perfect time to find out. Guess he learned that he needs a little more practice on the track. Seriously? Why does it matter if you can outrun an officer? Do you want to see if you can outspray a firefighter? Is it a fascination or a disease?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*A guy calls me on the non-emergency line and is very upset. He won't tell me who he is or what he wants other than he wants to know where his kid is. He decides I'm keeping the information from him because I'm a girl. He then feels the need to ask me 3 times during the converstation if I am a girl. Way to clarify man....I'd hate for you to have to be mean to me for no reason! He then tells me he hates living in "Screw-tah Utah". He said "That's right...I said screw. I know that's a big bad word around this place!" He then told me he was so flipping mad and said "That's right...screw and flip...what ya going to do know, huh girl?" Seriously? Way to offend me man...you said Screw-tah instead of Utah...what am I going to do now? I've lost all my faith!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I can't complain about getting bored at work. No 2 days will EVER be the same. It's keeps things exciting...or something like that! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-6712676579561865028?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6712676579561865028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=6712676579561865028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/6712676579561865028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/6712676579561865028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/09/seriously-youve-got-to-be-kidding-me.html' title='Seriously? You&apos;ve got to be kidding me!'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-5332539868369501515</id><published>2009-09-24T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T10:41:17.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Break Time</title><content type='html'>So I've had some time off at work and school, which has led to a break from blogging...at least on this blog. I took time off work so I could really focus on school and spend my time doing what I needed to academically and physically to finish first block of POST. I then started working a little again and have a break from school until Jan 2010 when I start the second block. I am finally now back to working pretty much full time hours, so hopefully there will be more frequent posting by me. Hopefully...we'll see... ;P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-5332539868369501515?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5332539868369501515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=5332539868369501515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5332539868369501515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5332539868369501515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/09/break-time.html' title='Break Time'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-5797811703204712743</id><published>2009-08-12T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T22:57:59.289-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hands and knees...</title><content type='html'>Hands and knees...that is where I spent a HUGE portion of Saturday at school. We were learning about evidence. So to help us learn about evidence, we searched for evidence. We went outside and lined up in one long line. We then got down on our hands and knees, shoulder to shoulder with the person next to us, and crawled across several fields several times. We were looking for any type of evidence. The first time I didn't find much. The second time I found a post-it note with numbers on it. Then I found a key chain with a key. When we found something we would stand up right next to it, put our hat over it to "preserve" it, and then wait while the line went on without us. Our instructor had planted evidence for our searches, including $10 in change and several other things. It was also interesting to see what we found that had nothing to do with class...like my post-it, a ribbon, feathers, foot prints etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After our first searches we went back inside for some more book work. The worst part?!? We were SOAKING WET!! From our knees to our ankles we were wet from crawling on the grass. After some more book work we went back outside to a field. We then stood shoulder to shoulder again and walked through weeds up to our chests looking for a "package". Our instructor gave us the following scenario:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are dispatched to this field on a suspicious incident. A neighbor called 911 saying she saw a female walk into the field with a package and then a few minutes later walk back out without the package. The female then got into a vehicle and drove off."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do we have a crime? What kind of search are we going to do in this humungous field? Should we search? What kind of resources do we need? We had to think about all of these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to do a strip search (not as bad as it sounds) where we all walk in a line to cover area. We were going to go out to a tree and re-group. As we were walking through mud and dirt and weeds we found our "package". We found a baby doll wrapped up in a blanket. We then met as a group with our instructor and answered the questions I listed above...now we had a crime, we needed medical etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was really an interesting and fun class. I came out wet and muddy and dusty with my shoes un-shined, but it was good and I really appreciated the things that I learned!! And it turned out to be quite a fun day in class. I always love hands on! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-5797811703204712743?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5797811703204712743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=5797811703204712743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5797811703204712743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5797811703204712743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/08/hands-and-knees.html' title='Hands and knees...'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-3446424006593283042</id><published>2009-08-02T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T21:06:12.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Disclaimer</title><content type='html'>***The last 2 posts I copied off my personal blog to jump start my police academy stories. Sorry to those of you who read both blogs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-3446424006593283042?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3446424006593283042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=3446424006593283042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3446424006593283042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3446424006593283042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/08/disclaimer.html' title='Disclaimer'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-4999736571314906029</id><published>2009-08-02T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T21:05:24.624-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some excitement!</title><content type='html'>Today was such an exciting day at school! I have loved all of school, but the first part of this block has been full of laws and codes. It's been very interesting and I've loved it, but it was alot of book work. We are finally done with the laws though...at least the book learning of laws. And we've had some good classes since then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a communications class which is basically talking on a radio. I thought it was funny because my whole class loved it and was fascinated, but it's what I do every day at work. We also have done leadership classes which were good and full of awesome information. Last week we did conflict resolution...learning to talk to people and "talk people down" from excited or angry situations. We even "conducted" our first fake traffic stop on our instructor and had to go through the whole thing...asking for drivers license and registration, dealing with his attitude etc. That was an awesome class and I did amazingly well. I even impressed some of the guys in class. They thought I was so good but really I spend all day at work communicating and so it comes kind of naturally to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today we did evidence collection and crime scene preservation. We seriously had so much fun. Not only was the instructor way cool, but he was a good teacher and easy to listen to. We dusted and lifted fingerprints, looked for hairs and fibers, made impressions of shoe prints with clay and learned how to glue fingerprints. It was alot of information, but so much fun. The fiber optic laser we used to look for hair and fibers costs $75,000 and is seriously one of the coolest things I've seen. I never thought I'd be that into crime scene or evidence, but after class today I have a new appreciation for it and a new appreciation for those who gather/preserve it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-4999736571314906029?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4999736571314906029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=4999736571314906029' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/4999736571314906029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/4999736571314906029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/08/some-excitement.html' title='Some excitement!'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-3688162137130456069</id><published>2009-08-02T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T21:04:01.825-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still going strong!</title><content type='html'>Academy is going great! I have loved everything about it. I was thinking tonight that there really hasn't been any night where I've come home and thought "that was a waste of time" or "that was so stupid"! I've taken several classes in college and I can guarantee that I've come home many times saying just those things. I just LOVE class. I am so excited that I decided to finally do Police Academy and I am loving every second of it. Even the running, which I'm still kind of struggling with, is worth it. I have amazing people in my class. I have already made new friends who I am sure I will be friends with forever (or at least for a very long time). I have learned new things about Law Enforcement, about people and most importantly about myself. Life is good and I am SO VERY HAPPY with my career/education choice!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-3688162137130456069?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3688162137130456069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=3688162137130456069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3688162137130456069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3688162137130456069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/08/still-going-strong.html' title='Still going strong!'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-7315733569805343535</id><published>2009-08-02T20:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T20:55:52.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Neglected</title><content type='html'>I know this blog has been neglected. I've been so busy with Police Academy 6 days a week and work in between that I haven't been too focused on blogging. I apologize though. I started this blog to share some of what I do with all of you, and still have the desire to do that. I've debated about whether or not to include my academy stories in this blog. Even though they aren't exactly work related, they are Law Enforcement related. So even though I've gone back and forth, I think I am going to include academy stories. At least it will give me something to post while I'm not working full time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-7315733569805343535?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7315733569805343535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=7315733569805343535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/7315733569805343535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/7315733569805343535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/08/neglected.html' title='Neglected'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-2679829922800091862</id><published>2009-08-02T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T20:51:26.349-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad, sad situation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=148&amp;amp;sid=7367624"&gt;This is a sad situation that happened in Orem.&lt;/a&gt; I have to say I'm amazed at the men and women in Law Enforcement (officers, victim advocates, firefighters, paramedics, dispatchers etc) who respond to these types of calls and deal with them. My dad responded on a similar call with the ambulance once and I saw how it affected him. These are tough calls for everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts and prayers are with the family as well as they deal with their grief. What a tragic accident. Please let us all use this as a reminder to ALWAYS watch for children and be safe when we're behind the wheel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-2679829922800091862?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2679829922800091862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=2679829922800091862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2679829922800091862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2679829922800091862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/08/sad-sad-situation.html' title='Sad, sad situation'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-2269211718296579384</id><published>2009-08-02T20:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T20:41:40.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Joke</title><content type='html'>A policeman and fireman both go into the bathroom. After using the urinal the fireman goes to the sink and washes his hands while the policeman finishes and leaves the bathroom. The fireman is disgusted and approaches the policeman. In a disgusted voice the fireman says "In the fire academy they taught us to wash our hands after using the restroom." The policeman calmly looks up at the fireman and says "In the police academy they taught us not to pee on our hands!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-2269211718296579384?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2269211718296579384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=2269211718296579384' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2269211718296579384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2269211718296579384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/08/funny-joke.html' title='Funny Joke'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-4638278508750764558</id><published>2009-06-23T01:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T02:00:54.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been awhile!</title><content type='html'>I am so far behind! I took some time off work and have had a sporatic schedule for awhile now. Not much is new at work. Naked people, angry people in jail, people beating each other up etc etc. It's the same stuff just different day. And it doesn't matter what day, what time, or what agency, people are always doing something that they shouldn't!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did help with a swat training last week that was kind of cool. They did an active gunman training at UVU with several agencies and they asked that 2 Orem dispatchers come to handle the communications side. Myself and another dispatcher took the over time and it was a good experience. It was definitely hectic with just 2 of us handling police and fire radio, but it was a good experience for me. We had a really good time and it was interesting to hear what was going on. The scenario was that several gunmen were in the school. They had hostages and explosives and the whole enchilada. They even used blanks so that it sounded like gunshots and smelled like gun poweder. They tried to make it as real as possible. They had a few different swat teams, and officers from pretty much every agency in Utah County as well as from Juab county and Nephi. It was very fun and I'm glad I was able to participate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll try to post more often on this blog. I appreciate all of you who read this! And I'm still looking for anyone who wants to contribute. Just let me know and I'll add you. We'd love to hear your stories and thoughts!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-4638278508750764558?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4638278508750764558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=4638278508750764558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/4638278508750764558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/4638278508750764558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-been-awhile.html' title='It&apos;s been awhile!'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-6932262159295691440</id><published>2009-05-09T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T22:01:39.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Carbon Monoxide? I don't think so...</title><content type='html'>I took a 911 call tonight from an adult female who was babysitting 3 small children. She called 911 saying that her and the children were feeling nauseated, dizzy, confused, weak etc. She told me right at the beginning of the call that she thought they had carbon monoxide poisoning. I put a carbon monoxide call in and we started the fire department her way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was taking the call, I followed pretty well along the way of carbon monoxide poisoning. I had her take all of the children outside of the home and away from the house. I had them all try to take slow deep breathis. I kept her on the phone and gathered as much information as possible. Right at the very end of the call I decided to ask her if the children looked like their cheeks were red and/or splotchy. That is a common side affect of carbon monoxide poisoning. She said it was dark outside so she took one of the children over by a light to look at them and tell me what she saw. I asked her if they looked red at all and she said "I have them in the light and they look red, but we were out in the sun all day and we are all pretty sunburned." Right after she said that she told me the officer arrived and I disconnected the phone call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok...anyone thinking what I'm thinking? I love that people are aware of how they're feeling. Sometimes being "paranoid" pays off. People who notice more than 1 occupant of a home suffering from some type of ailment often times turn out to be because there really is a problem. But think about it... 4 people all feeling sick to their stomachs. They all have headaches. They are all tired and a little weak. They are all &lt;em&gt;sunburned. &lt;/em&gt;Anyone thinking heat stroke? Well, sure enough the fire department arrives on scene and takes some tests and there is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;no carbon monoxide&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;! They all spent some extra time out in the sun today running around and now they're paying for it. But bless that babysitters heart for being right on top of things. ;D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-6932262159295691440?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6932262159295691440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=6932262159295691440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/6932262159295691440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/6932262159295691440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/05/carbon-monoxide-i-dont-think-so.html' title='Carbon Monoxide? I don&apos;t think so...'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-47943259001122152</id><published>2009-05-09T21:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T21:51:36.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who am I?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am the voice that calms the mother into breathing life back into her infant &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;son&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am the invisible hand that holds and comforts the elderly man who woke up this morning to find his wife of 50 years passed away during the night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am the friend who talks the disgruntled teenager out of ending her own life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I sent help when you had your first automobile accident.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am the one who tries to obtain the information from callers to ensure that the scene is safe for those I dispatch to emergencies - all the while anticipating the worst and hoping for the best.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am the psychologist who readily adapts my language and tone of voice to serve the needs of my callers with compassion and understanding.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am the ears that listen to the needs of all those I serve.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have heard the screams of faceless people I never will meet nor forget.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have cried at the atrocities of mankind and rejoiced at the miracles of life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I was there, though unseen my my comrades in the field during the most trying emergencies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have tried to visualize the scene to coincide with the voices I heard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I usually am not privy to the outcome of a call, and so I wonder...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am the one who works weekends, strange shifts and holidays.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Children do not say they want my job when they grow up. Yet, I am at this vocation by choice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Those I help do not call back to say thank you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Still there is comfort in the challenge, integrity, and purpose of my employment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am thankful to provide such a meaningful service.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am a mother, father, sister, brother, son or daughter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am where you need me and still here when you don't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My office is never empty, and the work here is never done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am always on call.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The training is strenuous, demanding and endless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No two days at work are ever the same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Who am I?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am an Emergency 9-1-1 Dispatcher.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-47943259001122152?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/47943259001122152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=47943259001122152' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/47943259001122152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/47943259001122152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/05/who-am-i.html' title='Who am I?'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-5650134972513191522</id><published>2009-05-01T01:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T01:16:34.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Help Wanted!</title><content type='html'>Would you like to be a contributor to this blog? I'd love the company! If you are in law enforcement (police, fire, dispatch, etc) simply email me at &lt;a href="mailto:fire_princess4@hotmail.com"&gt;fire_princess4@hotmail.com&lt;/a&gt; and I'll add you on. I'd love for you to share your law enforcement stories here along with mine!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-5650134972513191522?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5650134972513191522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=5650134972513191522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5650134972513191522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5650134972513191522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/05/help-wanted.html' title='Help Wanted!'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-2622413041350037713</id><published>2009-05-01T01:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T01:11:27.418-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It might be a while</title><content type='html'>I'm sorry it's been awhile since I've posted. I've been trying to be good about posting regularly but I've been slacking. And now I have alot of personal/family stuff going on in my life that may keep my from blogging on a regular basis for a little while. I don't even go to work again for about a week and a half. I'll try to think of something good to post though and try to keep up. Thank you all for reading this blog. I promise that once I start Police Academy I will have alot to post about...so that's something to look forward to! :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-2622413041350037713?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2622413041350037713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=2622413041350037713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2622413041350037713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2622413041350037713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/05/it-might-be-while.html' title='It might be a while'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-3911464673276961425</id><published>2009-04-12T01:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T02:02:31.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>National Telecommunicators Week</title><content type='html'>This week (starting today...Easter) is National Telecommunicators week. I feel like sometimes we are way under appreciated, so it's nice to have a week to celebrate and appreciate what we do. The Administration at our department is always appreciative of what we do. They recognize the job we do is difficult and they let us know how grateful they are that we do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also got a "thank you" from Lindon (who we also dispatch for) in the way of a gift. They gave us each a cool water bottle and a bag of treats. It was so thoughtful. I appreciate the small gestures that says people care and recognize what we're doing. That's how I felt when I got that give.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two post below were sent out by a coworker of mine in honor of National Telecommunicators week. I thought they were pretty funny (and so true) so I decided to share them. I hope you enjoy. I also hope that if you know a 911 dispatcher that you will thank them this week for the job they do. We often go unrecognized and underappreciated. We do all the work with none of the glory, and we're happy to do it. But thank a dispatcher if you know one. I know it would make them feel good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-3911464673276961425?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3911464673276961425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=3911464673276961425' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3911464673276961425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3911464673276961425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/04/national-telecommunicators-week.html' title='National Telecommunicators Week'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-4342262875000667107</id><published>2009-04-12T01:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T21:43:34.257-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things you'd love to say to the public but can't...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;THINGS YOU'D LOVE TO SAY TO THE PUBLIC BUT CAN'T...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**And your crybaby, whiny opinion would be...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Do I sound like a people person?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**This isn't a Comm Center... it's Hell with fluorescent lighting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**I pretend to work, they pretend to pay me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Sarcasm is just one more customer service benefit we offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You.. off my planet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Does your train of thought have a caboose?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Did the aliens forget to remove your anal probe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**And what law school did you graduate from, Matlock?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**I'm okay because the voices tell me so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Am I getting smart with you? No, I'll keep it on your level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**And which one of the Seven Dwarfs are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**I don't have an attitude problem. You have a perception problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**I'd explain it to you, but I'm afraid your brain would explode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**I'm sorry you got a speeding ticket. You feel you don't deserve it? What, did the officer interrupt your qualifying lap?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**There are two things on Earth that are universal: hydrogen and stupidity. You don't look like an atomic weapon, so that leaves us with one alternative...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Errors have been made. Others will be blamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Do they ever shut up on your planet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**I'm trying to imagine you with a personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**How many times do I have to flush before you go away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Earth is full. Go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Is it time for your medication or mine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Aw, did I step on your poor little bitty ego?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Don't start with me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You won't win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**WARNING: I have an attitude and I know how to use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**When I want your opinion, I'll give it to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Sorry if I sounded interested... I'm not!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**And your point is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You have the right to remain silent, so please shut up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Don't upset me! I'm running out of places to hide the bodies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-4342262875000667107?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4342262875000667107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=4342262875000667107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/4342262875000667107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/4342262875000667107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/04/things-youd-love-to-say-to-public-but.html' title='Things you&apos;d love to say to the public but can&apos;t...'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-4433877753194040615</id><published>2009-04-12T01:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T01:51:40.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You might be a dispatcher if...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;You Might Be a Dispatcher If...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You can carry on more than 4 conversations simultaneously!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You have a bladder capacity of a tanker!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You can resume a conversation with co-workers 4 hours later, in mid-sentence and everyone knows that you are talking about!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You have a long term telephonic relationship with one or more paranoid schizophrenic PTSD&lt;br /&gt;suffering relatives of a public official.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You have ever had to explain to a college educated, gainfully employed, tax paying property owner that: His/her child's lack of interest in vegetables was not a police matter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You have ever muttered the phrase: "They let him carry a GUN?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You find yourself typing "height" and "weight" instead of "width" and "height" when adding dimensions to the HTML "IMG SRC" tags on your web-site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You answer your home phone "9-1-1, what is your emergency?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You spend more on fast food than utilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You see nothing wrong with eating a Taco Bell Grande Meal or pizza at 3 a.m&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You consider coffee an indispensable work tool (especially on graveyards).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You answer your home phone "dispatch".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You answer dispatch phone "hell" instead of "hello".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**The only thing that gets your adrenaline going is the walk to and from your car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You find humor in other people's misery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You're only happy if you have something to complain about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You consider patience a weakness, not a virtue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Your idea of a good night involves someone burning a house down, getting shot, chased or dismembered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You have forgotten what it is like to actually eat a warm meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Your dog doesn't recognize you and the kids think you're just the person who drops by every now and then to bring groceries and do the laundry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You think it's funny when a would-be suicide gets bored waiting for the gas from the stove to do it's thing and lights a cigarette to pass the time resulting in an explosion that leaves her neighbors homeless but she still survives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You truly believe stupidity should be painful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Dinner consist of a 2 liter bottle of soda and whatever you can scrounge out of the vending machine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Antacid tablets, or better known as dispatcher candy, become your regular desert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You read newspaper accounts of a major incident that occurred during your shift and can point&lt;br /&gt;out all the incorrect information...and then laugh about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Family members comment about how nice you "used" to be before you started this job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You believe in aerial spraying of Prozac and/or birth control over certain parts of your city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You have no idea what a holiday is, other than it's the day when everyone gets drunk and beats up their family members.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You get impatient listening to people relate a story - You want "just the facts".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You believe 90% of people can't look up a telephone number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You get easily bored with happy content people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You can talk on the phone, listen to the radio and type request into the computer at the same time without missing anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You think it is funny when a "regular client" kills himself while breaking into a business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You can give directions to any location in your city off the top of your head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You can relate a 10 minute story over a 2 hour time period, after many interruptions, without losing your place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You refuse to allow anyone to say "have a quiet shift".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You believe that the statement, "It sure is quiet!" will bring down the wrath of god upon you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You can give anyone the exact address of Parkway Crossing  in your jurisdiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You question the motives of anyone who makes an effort to get to know you after they learn your profession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You know the phone number of every restaurant or business that delivers food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You spell everything phonetically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You can only tell time on a 24 hour clock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You acknowledge your friends and families remarks with the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You have spent time explaining to officers, firefighters or EMTs the difference between a dispatcher and a personal assistant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You live in fear of a full moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You are on a first name basis with every crazy lunatic in your jurisdiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You find no comfort in knowing that the equipment that you depend on to do your job and protect others was purchased at the lowest bid possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You find yourself talking to family and friends in codes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You have a tendency to giggle at your friends "big" problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You respond 10-4 when told to please pull around to the first window at a fast food restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**You tell cops and firefighters where to go without fear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-4433877753194040615?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4433877753194040615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=4433877753194040615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/4433877753194040615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/4433877753194040615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/04/you-might-be-dispatcher-if.html' title='You might be a dispatcher if...'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-5690933645206870212</id><published>2009-04-11T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T15:11:34.108-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you know the dog?!?</title><content type='html'>And one last call from last night that I thought was funny. Sadly, I was the one who was a little funny on this call. A lady called the police to complain about her neighbors dog barking. I tried to ask her if she knew the address where the dog lives, but instead I asked her "Do you know the dog?" I then had to proceed to tell her that infact it doesn't matter if she knows the dog or has a personal relationship with it. I just needed to know where it lived. I couldn't help but laugh. Imagine calling the police about a dog complaint and hearing from the 911 operator "Do you know the dog??" haha! That was when I decided it was time for me to go home! :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-5690933645206870212?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5690933645206870212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=5690933645206870212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5690933645206870212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5690933645206870212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/04/do-you-know-dog.html' title='Do you know the dog?!?'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-3421054540868598713</id><published>2009-04-11T15:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T15:10:03.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do YOU know where you live?</title><content type='html'>I got a call from a girl (probably in her 20's) and I asked her where she was. She told me at the corner of 700 W 5300 N. (I can't remember the first part of the address but the second part I know she said.) I asked her what city she was in and she said Orem. I again confirmed the address and got 700 W 5300 N. I told her she couldn't be in Orem and asked if she could be in Provo. She told me NO and she was sure she was in Orem at 700 W 5300 N, she said she had lived there here whole life and it had always been 5300 N. I told her there is no 5300 N in Orem and she told me she didn't know what to say because that is where they are at. Well I told her (in so many words) that there is no 5300 N in Orem so she was going to figure out the right address or the right city. I then hear whispering in the background followed by this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caller: Um...whisper, whisper...&lt;br /&gt;Me: Do you know what address you're at?&lt;br /&gt;Caller: Ya, it's going to be 700 W 530 N...hehe...my bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRR! I hate when people think non-funny things are funny. It shouldn't be funny to you that you are 20 and don't know your address where you've lived for ALL those 20 years. It is funny to me though!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-3421054540868598713?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3421054540868598713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=3421054540868598713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3421054540868598713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3421054540868598713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/04/do-you-know-where-you-live.html' title='Do YOU know where you live?'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-2626659551151239610</id><published>2009-04-11T15:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T15:09:12.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I promise, directions aren't hard!</title><content type='html'>I took another funny call last night at work. A lady was calling to report that her vehicle had just been hit and the person who hit her drove away. My caller was following the suspect. She gave me the address of where she was and said she was still following. I asked her if they were going North, South, East or West and there was silence on the other end of the phone. I think it was the first time she had ever heard those directions. She had NO idea where she was. I've had people like that before so I told her to just keep giving me addresses as she saw them so I could tell the officer. She told me they started at 1600 N State. This is how it went:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1600 N State&lt;br /&gt;1140 N 980 W&lt;br /&gt;1100 N 800 W&lt;br /&gt;1040 N 600 W&lt;br /&gt;1200 N State&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...wait, 1200 N State? How did you get from 600 W to State? (For those of you who know Orem, it's not easy.) She then started giving me businesses on State street as she followed the suspect past them. We got Wendys, Maceys, a carpet business, etc. She told me she was right behind the person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After sending our officers on a small goose chase around the North end of town (thanks to my callers directions) we finally got an officer to catch up to them. My caller said she saw the officer. I told her (as is routine) that "The officer is going to make a traffic stop on that vehicle. After he pulls it over I need you to pull over and park your car behind the officers. Do not get out of your vehicle. The officer is going to make contact first at the car he has stopped and then he will come talk to you. Do you understand?" She told me she understood, but she still seemed a little confused so I didn't hang up. Turned out to be a good thing that I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just about to ask her if she was out with the officer when she told me he had the wrong car pulled over. She again gave me the vehicle description and license plate. I assured her we had that very car pulled over. I asked her if she was pulled up behind the officer and she told me she couldn't see the officer. How did she know he had pulled over the "wrong car" if she couldn't even see what car he had? (I had the same question) I asked her where she was and she said 400 N State. Well the officer was at 200 N State (I don't know how she got so far behind.) I told her I was staying on the phone with her and told her to pull over behind the officer as soon as she saw him. She finally told me that she saw him and asked if she should pull over left... I told her "No, the officer is pulled over to the right and I need you to pull over and park your car RIGHT BEHIND HIM and stay in your car." (I was starting to get a little frustrated by this point. I asked her a few seconds later if she were parked behind the officer so I could hang up with her. She told me to hang on. And then I hear this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caller: Hi!&lt;br /&gt;Male: Are you so-and-so?&lt;br /&gt;Caller: Yes, who are you?&lt;br /&gt;Male: I'm Officer so-and-so.&lt;br /&gt;Caller: Hi!&lt;br /&gt;Officer: Who are you on the phone with?&lt;br /&gt;Caller: 911. Officer: Um, you can hang up now...&lt;br /&gt;Caller: (to me) Ok, I think I can hang up now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya, I felt like that call was never going to end. Bless her heart for trying so hard to be a good caller. She just fell through in so many ways. I couldn't help but laugh. At least she had a good attitude about the whole thing, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-2626659551151239610?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2626659551151239610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=2626659551151239610' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2626659551151239610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2626659551151239610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-promise-directions-arent-hard.html' title='I promise, directions aren&apos;t hard!'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-4255171221829929726</id><published>2009-04-11T02:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T15:06:58.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So funny!</title><content type='html'>I know things always seem funnier at night or when you haven't slept for awhile, but I think at times my job really is funny regardless of how much sleep a person has had. Tonight was one of those funny nights! I think it's good that we can find some funny things in some not-so-funny situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a serious traffic accident tonight that our medical units responded to on the highway. We had SEVERAL reports of the accident come in on 911 lines and we finally got medical units out with Highway Patrol units. It was obvious that the accident was quite serious so we quickly called an air ambulance (Life Flight) to respond to the scene. When we call Life Flight they always make contact with an officer on scene for scene and landing information. Since the accident was on the highway, UHP took the landing zone. We had advised (we thought) everyone on the scene that Life Flight was enroute and their ETA (estimated time of arrival) was less than 5 minutes. A few minutes after that we heard the chopper check on the radio with UHP and advise them that they were less than a minute out. This is what we heard:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chopper: Who is our contact on scene?&lt;br /&gt;UHP: It will be UHP unit #...&lt;br /&gt;Chopper: UHP unit #..., we are less than 1 minute out&lt;br /&gt;(Amidst ALOT of wind-type noise on the radio)&lt;br /&gt;UHP: Life Flight confirming you are 15 minutes out?&lt;br /&gt;Chopper: Um, negative. We have the scene in sight and are coming in straight at you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was one of those times when you can just picture the helicopter pilot wanting to say "LOOK UP! What do you mean 15 minutes? Can't you see a HUGE red helicopter coming in? And if you don't see the helicopter, can't you hear it? "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so funny. And the best part was that the whole time they are having their converstation I could HEAR the helicopter in the background. It's not like they sneak up on a person.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-4255171221829929726?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4255171221829929726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=4255171221829929726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/4255171221829929726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/4255171221829929726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/04/so-funny.html' title='So funny!'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-4815176457059262539</id><published>2009-04-08T19:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T19:10:38.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I will never understand</title><content type='html'>I will never understand the way people think. Why is it that we will recieve 10 calls about a dog running in traffic but only 1 about a guy standing on the side of the road bleeding? We will recieve 15 calls about a couch laying on the side of the road but only 2 about a kid walking down the sidewalk holding a gun. We can get 20 calls about a cow loose in traffic but only 1 about a guy who is handcuffed and wearing a hospital gown running down the street. We will get 15 calls about traffic accident that is not even blocking traffic and only 1 about a person who is laying on the sidewalk not moving. We will recieve 10 about a house that looks like it's on fire but only 3 about a vehicle that is burning up in a parking lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know people love their dogs and cats. I understand that people take pride in their cars and have spent alot of money on them. I even understand the concern about large animals such as cattle running on a busy street. BUT WHAT ABOUT PEOPLE?!?! Are you seriously not concerned about people who may be hurt or injured? What about people holding weapons? Aren't you the least bit worried about what they're going to do with the weapon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will just never understand people and the way they think. *Sigh*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-4815176457059262539?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4815176457059262539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=4815176457059262539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/4815176457059262539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/4815176457059262539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-will-never-understand.html' title='I will never understand'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-2886946376109957137</id><published>2009-03-24T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T19:14:48.789-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More things I've learned at work</title><content type='html'>Every time I go to work I learn something new. And what kind of person would I be if I kept that knowledge to myself? So I'm going to share it with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1 If you are old enough to buy a car and drive a car and use a car...KNOW WHAT KIND OF CAR YOU DRIVE!! If you don't know the make and/or model of your own car, don't get behind the wheel!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2 Also, I don't care what the "technical" color of your car is. I want red, blue, green, purple, white, tan. Don't tell me burgandy or amethist or champagne. I don't care! Think about the rainbow, add white, tan and black and choose from those colors only!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#3 Do not call 911 and tell me there is a problem and then say "never mind!" If you call me, you are getting an officer. Bottom line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4 If your phone just "accidentally" calls 911, please just stay on the line and tell me it was an accident. And if you don't stay on the line and I end up calling you back, don't yell at me for calling you and tell me your phone didn't call. How do you think I got your phone number? I didn't just make it up or pick one out of the phone book, regardless of what you think!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#5 If you lock your keys in your car, or your car gets broken into, or you're a victim of any other type of crime, call the police. YOURSELF! Don't have your boyfriend/girlfriend call and then stand in the background and tell them everything. If you're the one with all of the answers, make the call yourself. It will save us both alot of time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#6 If you are the victim of a crime, don't wait 3 days and then decide to call at 1100 on a Friday night and then get mad because the officers are busy and take a little while to get to your car. If you would have called on Tuesday afternoon when your car was damaged, there is a good chance that you would have had a lot shorter wait than on a Friday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#7 If you make a police report, don't change it 5 times. It doesn't make you look good...it makes you look like a suspect. And don't tell me one story on the phone and then tell the officer a totally different story when he shows up. It doesn't save any time and it's just going to make me mad for you making me look stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#8 If you want sympathy, don't call me at 1100 at night and cry to me because your neighbors are being loud and you can't sleep. I understand it might be frustrating, but you aren't going to get the sympathy you want from me for still being awake...I have alot of hours left at work talking to people just like you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#9 I am on your side. I'm not out to get you. But you better believe that if you're rude to me on the phone, I'm going to check you for warrants. It's my right as a dispatcher to check every single person we are going to have contact with, and if you're rude to me, you moved yourself to the top of the list! Your fault, not mine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#10 If you don't speak english, that is your choice. I'm not going to judge you. But don't call me and ask if I speak spanish (or whatever language you speak) and then get mad at me for not speaking a language that isn't primary in our country. AND, don't ask me if I speak spanish and then when I say no, speak to me in the best english I've ever heard. If you speak english, speak it from the beginning!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-2886946376109957137?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2886946376109957137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=2886946376109957137' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2886946376109957137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2886946376109957137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/03/more-things-ive-learned-at-work.html' title='More things I&apos;ve learned at work'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-8970021276890589533</id><published>2009-03-24T01:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T03:07:42.789-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's been going on.</title><content type='html'>Oh my gosh...I have been such a slacker! I haven't posted for awhile, and last time it was a post I copied off my personal blog. I really try to be good. But of course I've been working, so of course stuff has happened. Here are some of the things going on lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***DUMP FIRE***&lt;br /&gt;I'm serious, this could not have smelled good! :P We got a report of a fire alarm. We were trying to call into the business (a normal routine on fire alarms) and I received a 911 call from a fisherman at Utah Lake (who would fish in there is for another time...) and he said he could see flames. I asked him where and he said at the dump. We got the fire department and police officers sent over and sure enough, the dump was on fire. Something funny happened when the officer arrived. We had already told him about the fisherman seeing flames, but the officer gets on scene and said there was no smoke or flames showing. We kind of sat there for a second not quite knowing what to say. Two different people had seen and reported two different things. And then we hear this "Uh, dispatch, I just went around to the &lt;em&gt;other&lt;/em&gt; side of the building, and there are flames visible!!! They're coming from the building and they're 15 feet tall!!!" I just had a little laugh to myself. He felt a little foolish too. The lesson he learned was look all the way &lt;em&gt;around&lt;/em&gt; the building before giving a scene size up. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***MY KITE, MY KITE***&lt;br /&gt;I got to work the other day and sat down ready to face the day. I was on phones which I was happy about. I just wanted to take phone calls and do my job. I picked up the very first phone that rang after I sat down. It was a 911. There was a lady on the phone and we had the following conversation.&lt;br /&gt;Me: 911, what city please?&lt;br /&gt;Caller: Orem.&lt;br /&gt;Me: This is Orem, how can I help you?&lt;br /&gt;Caller: I have a problem. We were at the park and our kite got stuck in the tree. And it's not like a dollar store kite. It was like a nice, stitched kite. What can the police department do for me?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Can you hold on one second please?&lt;br /&gt;At this point I put the call on hold. I always expect calls like this at work, but for some reason I wasn't expecting in as the first call of the day or expecting it over 911. I had no words. I did eventually pick up the phone and tell them that there was nothing the police could do. They would need to find a different way to get the kite down. She seemed to not be able to believe that I wasn't going to send the fire engine to her lights and sirens to get the kite out of the tree. *Sigh* Some people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, what else has happened?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***911***&lt;br /&gt;We had two kind of annoying 911 stories that happened on the same day and right around the same time. First of all we got a 911 call from a man at a pay phone. He wanted the address for an apartment complex in Provo. Now usually I am more than happy to give an address to someone but NOT over 911. I explained over and over that I couldn't do it and that we were holding up a 911 line. They told me they didn't have change to call a different number. I told them to find an open business in the area and ask to use the phone, and they finally agreed and hung up. Well, after TWO more calls from the same person asking the same thing on 911 lines, he finally called back on a non-emergency line. Non-emergency was call number four. So they were given the address and the Provo Police number (for the 4th time) in case the needed to call again. I thought for sure they were done calling, until 911 rang and it was them again. I didn't know what to think, but I was getting annoyed! We told the guy not to call 911 again unless it was an emergency. He finally listened! Now, now, it's not that exciting. He listened "technically" in that he didn't call, but he had the lady he was with call 911. They didn't have money and now wanted a ride to Provo. Finally we had enough and sent an officer down to the gas station they were at to talk to them. You can be arrested for abusing 911, and I didn't necessarily expect that to happen, but they needed to stop. So the officers made contact and made them stop. I honestly had my doubts even after the officers talked to them, but they finally did stop!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other 911 call we had bugged me as well! I answered 911 (I answered alot of phones that night for not being on phones. The 911 phones person was busy with fire traffic so we took her phones.) I heard yelling immediately on the phone, and then we had the following conversation.&lt;br /&gt;Me: 911 what's the address of your emergency?&lt;br /&gt;Caller: address given&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ok, what's the problem there?&lt;br /&gt;Caller: There has been an altercation!&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ok, what exactly is going on?&lt;br /&gt;Caller: (amidst screaming) Oh, never mind, never mind. click.&lt;br /&gt;The phone was disconnected. Let me tell you a little tidbit of information. If you want to make a dispatcher mad, call 911 and then hang up after you've said there was a problem and amidst yelling. It makes me so angry! I ended up calling back and had to explain the same thing over and over. The caller said everything was fine now. I told him that he had called 911 saying there was an altercation so whether he wanted or not, the police were coming so he may as well give me the information I was asking. He finally agreed and said he had been punched and was bleeding and his brother did it and may be drunk etc, etc, etc. While I'm talking to him I hear a girl in the background saying over and over "Just hang up! We don't want the police. Hang up!" The guy finally told me to talk to his mom and gave that lady the phone. I then started all over explaining to her that when someone calls the police and says that someone has been punched, the police are going to come. If everything is fine then the officers will clear right away, but they have to see it for themselves. They can't just take someones word for it. If they take someone word for it and there is a problem then that responsibility lies with us. The lady just would not give up trying to get me to cancel and I just kept telling her why we were coming. I figured that us talking about anything at least kept her on the phone. Finally the police showed up and I heard over the phone (imagine the most spiteful voice you can think of) "There are two police officers here. And just so you know, &lt;em&gt;I DO RESENT YOU FOR THIS." &lt;/em&gt;Click. Let me tell you, I'm shaking in my boots! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***IN THE MIDDLE***&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we were searching for a suspect. We were helping the detective and we kept getting small parts of information. We got that the suspect vehicle was red. Then we heard it was a Mazda. Then they added that it might be a Mitsubishi. So there are four dispatchers and we're all searching the best way we can but still wanted more information if it were possible. Finally the detective told us that the year of the vehicle was a middle year. Oh, ok....wait, what is a middle year? I honestly had no idea. We were wondering if it was middle of the officers life or middle of the 2000's or middle of what? I finally had to ask him. I got on the radio and asked the officer "Can you advise what a middle year vehicle is?" There was kind of a silence for a second and then he replied "Not old, but not new." Um, hello, I think I liked the middle year answer better. It was so funny. He finally called in later and said he had asked a 17 year old how old the vehicle was. She said she didn't know and he asked her if it was old or new and she said it was a middle year. He didn't know what it meant either. But he probably could have come up with a better answer for the radio, don't you think? ;D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's just some of what has been happening lately. I'm sure there is more but it's late (well early) and I'm tired so I'm calling it a night. Hope you enjoyed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-8970021276890589533?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8970021276890589533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=8970021276890589533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/8970021276890589533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/8970021276890589533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/03/whats-been-going-on.html' title='What&apos;s been going on.'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-3579154761255902954</id><published>2009-03-17T03:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T03:44:19.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Best of friends...</title><content type='html'>I posted this on my other &lt;a href="http://kaylarae4.blogspot.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;, but thought it was very fitting for this one too. So my apologies to those of you who read both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think that people need to be best of friends. I don't care really if people even like each other. But why, oh why can't people just learn to get along? I feel like I'm a babysitter more often than a dispatcher. I never knew that people would call the police for every minor little thing. Seriously people, do you need your hand held just to live your life? Are you not adult enough to solve your own problems?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that you can't just ask your neighbor to turn their music down? Why can't you tell your neighbor that their dog is keeping you awake night after night? Why can't you go get your mail from your ex-husbands house alone? He's never been violent and you have a friend with you, but you can't do it alone? Really? Why can't you just ignore someone who cut you off in traffic and go on with your day? Do you really think it's the end of the world that a few leaves are falling out of a truck or that there is a puddle on a sidewalk? Don't get me started on people who think it's the end of the world that a truck in front of them is putting out a little black smoke from their exhaust pipe. I understand it might be upsetting that your house got hit by 1 egg, but you really feel the need to call the police and ask them to fingerprint the egg shell? You can't just throw it away? And, do you really think you know every person who should be in your neighborhood at every hour of the day? You don't think that the person who walked by your house could just be out for a walk or visiting a neighbor and not casing your house for burglary?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you can't tell, it's been a long week. Not busy, but very draining! I don't understand why people can't just be a contributing factor to the community without being a vigilante. People need to learn to get along. People need to learn to deal with minor things alone. People need to learn that the police (and dispatchers) aren't here to hold your hand as you go through life. We're here to help in case of emergency. That's it! I don't need any more friends. I have enough already. Cut the small talk, cut the back-biting, cut the whining, and DEAL WITH LIFE!. We all have problems, so deal with it. I'm happy to help when help is needed, but I think we need have a talk about necessity vs NOT! Stop holding grudges, stop getting offended and just move on. I promise, it will be ok!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(P.S. I feel much better now that I've vented! =D Just thought I'd share!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-3579154761255902954?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3579154761255902954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=3579154761255902954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3579154761255902954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3579154761255902954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-posted-this-on-my-other-blog-but.html' title='Best of friends...'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-3354252093396102931</id><published>2009-03-12T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T22:04:50.482-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A crash in Orem</title><content type='html'>There was a serious car accident in Orem the other day. Subjects from both vehicles had to be extricated and they are in critical condition according to ksl. Check out the following pictures, and for the full story click &lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=148&amp;amp;sid=5813504"&gt;here &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=148&amp;amp;sid=5821943"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SbnojyA_2jI/AAAAAAAABEE/HYc6hByZ1wk/s1600-h/9991110.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312532936879233586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 185px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SbnojyA_2jI/AAAAAAAABEE/HYc6hByZ1wk/s320/9991110.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SbnoboeJUtI/AAAAAAAABD8/rqpLQy9GAQQ/s1600-h/9991083.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312532796878181074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 185px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SbnoboeJUtI/AAAAAAAABD8/rqpLQy9GAQQ/s320/9991083.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SbnobZH7OkI/AAAAAAAABD0/ReMC0FO9DoI/s1600-h/9991081.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312532792758450754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 184px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SbnobZH7OkI/AAAAAAAABD0/ReMC0FO9DoI/s320/9991081.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SbnobfdphhI/AAAAAAAABDs/QZx2G7rlNls/s1600-h/9991075.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312532794460177938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 185px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SbnobfdphhI/AAAAAAAABDs/QZx2G7rlNls/s320/9991075.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SbnobJ4pmHI/AAAAAAAABDk/BtzM6cF2IFM/s1600-h/9984869.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312532788667848818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 189px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SbnobJ4pmHI/AAAAAAAABDk/BtzM6cF2IFM/s320/9984869.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SbnoawiRhSI/AAAAAAAABDc/RkPSI1ARacU/s1600-h/9984349.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312532781863109922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SbnoawiRhSI/AAAAAAAABDc/RkPSI1ARacU/s320/9984349.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-3354252093396102931?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3354252093396102931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=3354252093396102931' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3354252093396102931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3354252093396102931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/03/crash-in-orem.html' title='A crash in Orem'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SbnojyA_2jI/AAAAAAAABEE/HYc6hByZ1wk/s72-c/9991110.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-8978981324235940335</id><published>2009-03-01T20:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T21:05:31.727-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I've learned at work lately...</title><content type='html'>The following things I have learned at work the past few weeks, and I have found them to be so important that I feel I should pass them on so you too can learn from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1 When you call in a report to the police, it doesn't matter whether you talk calmly or scream...the response is going to be the same. So save us all the trouble (and save our eardrums) and just don't yell!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2 Just because you live next door to one of our police officers doesn't mean that you locking your keys in your car is going to be more important than a traffic accident or a medical emergency or anything else. I understand the officer is your friend and neighbor, but he (or she) doesn't dictate what is an emergency. You can't have special treatment just because a police officer moved in next door to you. I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#3 Don't crash your personal car into a police car. It only makes the officer angry and our goal is to keep the officers happy! (I did not crash my car into an officer, don't worry.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4 If you're going to be a bad guy (or girl) and want to remain 'sleuth', don't post your whole life on facebook. You make it ridiculously easy for people to track you down!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#5 If you call something into the police department and we tell you that we'll send an officer, WE WILL SEND AN OFFICER! Don't call back 3 times wondering where we are. We're coming as fast as possible. Just because your call seems like an emergency to you (and it may be important) doesn't mean that there isn't something more important in the city requiring the officers first. Please be patient. It's a virtue, you know?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#6 If you want dispatchers to like you, be nice to us when you call in. I'm not calling you...you are calling me asking for help. I'm doing the best I can to help you with your request. Just show a little respect. I know you're scared/frustrated/worried/excited etc...but still be nice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#7 When I say "What's the address of your emergency?" THAT'S ALL I WANT TO KNOW RIGHT THEN!! I know you have a whole story you want to tell me, and I'll get there eventually, but one thing at a time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#8 When I ask you questions, I assure you that it's not to bug you. Everything I ask is needed for a reason. Please just answer the questions. The quicker you answer my questions, the quicker you get an officer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#9 If an officer is trying to do a traffic stop on you or handcuff you or do anything else 'police related'...PLEASE don't call dispatch asking to talk to the one officer in our department you think you are friends with. Just do what the officer on scene is asking you to do, and worry about the rest later. It's just going to make the officers angry if you ignore them and call me, and trust me, there is a good chance I don't want to talk to you in that situation! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#10 Even though sometimes police officers have a bad repuation, most of them do in fact know what they are talking about. Don't call dispatch to ask us if the things the officer told you is true. All that's going to get you is another conversation with the exact same officer, and I can almost guarantee that by that point he won't be as pleasant as he first was. Trust me! (And trust them!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-8978981324235940335?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8978981324235940335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=8978981324235940335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/8978981324235940335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/8978981324235940335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/03/things-ive-learned-at-work-lately.html' title='Things I&apos;ve learned at work lately...'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-1858146288860872037</id><published>2009-02-26T16:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T16:29:00.719-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Orem Police in the news again!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0; padding: 0; border: 0; outline: 0;" id="kslvid5705552"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://pandora.bonnint.net/video/embed-1.php?id=5705552"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0; padding: 0; border: 0; outline: 0; vertical-align: baseline; font-size: .75em; text-align: center; width: 424px;"&gt;Video Courtesy of &lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com"&gt;KSL.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-1858146288860872037?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1858146288860872037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=1858146288860872037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/1858146288860872037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/1858146288860872037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/02/orem-police-in-news-again.html' title='Orem Police in the news again!'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-170588568546837186</id><published>2009-02-18T21:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T21:51:30.550-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Orem Police in the news</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0; padding: 0; border: 0; outline: 0;" id="kslvid5631243"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://pandora.bonnint.net/video/embed-1.php?id=5631243"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0; padding: 0; border: 0; outline: 0; vertical-align: baseline; font-size: .75em; text-align: center; width: 424px;"&gt;Video Courtesy of &lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com"&gt;KSL.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-170588568546837186?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/170588568546837186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=170588568546837186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/170588568546837186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/170588568546837186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/02/orem-police-in-news.html' title='Orem Police in the news'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-3741560268920755890</id><published>2009-02-16T02:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T02:56:58.679-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping up</title><content type='html'>I know I've slacked a little at keeping this blog up-to-date. I hope you didn't give up checking in because it was just temporary. I've added a few calls to this blog the last few days and promise to put alot more effort into keeping it updated. We take enough calls every shift that I should be able to find something to post about. Even if I wasn't directly involved, I'll try to post at least 1 story a week. We'll say one for now until I see how keeping up with that goal goes! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-3741560268920755890?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3741560268920755890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=3741560268920755890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3741560268920755890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3741560268920755890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/02/keeping-up.html' title='Keeping up'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-5032741783474518976</id><published>2009-02-16T02:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T02:54:46.779-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey...Are you conscious?</title><content type='html'>I had to laugh tonight when I took a 911 call. Elderly people always make me chuckle. First of all, they always feel bad for calling 911. They think they're inconveniencing us. I don't feel bad, it's our job! I had a quite funny conversation today with an elderly female today (a lady in her 80's) and I can't help but share it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lady called 911 to tell me that she thought her husband was having a heart attack. No problem for me, I take those kind of calls all day long. So I got her address and telephone number and continued on with my questioning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Me: Is this a home or an apartment? &lt;div&gt;Caller: apartment&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Is there a building letter or #? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caller: #15&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: What's the problem?&lt;/div&gt;Caller: I think my husband us having a heart attack!&lt;br /&gt;Me: How old is your husband?&lt;br /&gt;Caller: 82&lt;br /&gt;Me: Where is his pain?&lt;br /&gt;Caller: In his chest, well his whole body, well I don't know if he has pain. (She was confused and scared)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Is he breathing?&lt;br /&gt;Caller: Yes&lt;br /&gt;Me: Is he conscious?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This is where it gets interesting and a little funny!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Me: Is he conscious?&lt;br /&gt;Caller: Milford, are you conscious? Are you conscious Milford? They need to know if you're conscious!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Side note for all you who may not be as logical as some. If you are asking a person if they're conscious and they give any type of verbal response, the answer is Yes! They're conscious! Maybe not 'with it' but conscious none-the-less!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Me: Is that him I hear talking?&lt;br /&gt;Caller: Yes&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so that means he's conscious. (That is a statement not a question.)&lt;br /&gt;Caller: I don't know if he's conscious. He won't tell me. He just keeps saying he needs an ambulance! Milford...ARE YOU CONSCIOUS? Hey, are you conscious?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to laugh! (Not on the phone, but just to myself.) She was so funny. She really was just so concerned. Oh, and she was so hard of hearing so I had to yell the same thing over and over for her to understand what I was saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then she topped off the call with such an old-lady type remark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Me: Is your door unlocked and porch light on?&lt;br /&gt;Caller Yes. I can hear the sirens now.&lt;br /&gt;Me: They should be there in just a minute. Stay on the phone with me until they're there.&lt;br /&gt;Caller: I can't. My husband wants to me go wait right in the middle of the street for the ambulance. So they know where to go, you know?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Don't go stand in the road! It's cold and you need to stay with Milford. The ambulance has a map so they'll find you. Stay inside with your husband. (I didn't throw in that it's not safe to stand in the middle of the street...I just let her think she was needed more inside.)&lt;br /&gt;Caller: Uh, oh. OH NO! Oh my gosh!!!&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ma'am, what's going on? Ma'am, is there a problem with your husband?&lt;br /&gt;Caller: No. I just realized that my blouse isn't buttoned up. Oh my, I have to go!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was right then that she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;disconnected&lt;/span&gt;. I had to laugh. It was just so funny. First she asks her husband if he's conscious, and then she realized she didn't have her shirt buttoned up. Elderly people are always especially conservative and concerned about their decency. I hear often that they need to change out of pajamas or put on a shirt. But it's rare that a caller ask the patient if they are conscious. So funny! =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story: If they can answer the question "Are you conscious?" then THEY ARE CONSCIOUS!!! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Names have been changed and the conversations aren't necessarily word for word.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-5032741783474518976?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5032741783474518976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=5032741783474518976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5032741783474518976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5032741783474518976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/02/heyare-you-conscious.html' title='Hey...Are you conscious?'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-1009427318716978654</id><published>2009-02-14T23:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T00:33:06.838-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've been robbed!?!</title><content type='html'>The majority of people can't differentiate 100 % between the meaning of burglary and robbery. Alot of people think they've been the victim of a robbery when in fact, they've been the victim of a burglary. Before I continue on with my story let me explain the definitions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Burglary-&lt;/strong&gt; the act of breaking and entering an inhabited structure (as a house) esp. at night with intent to commit a felony (as murder or larceny); also : the act of entering or remaining unlawfully (as after closing to the public) in a building with intent to commit a crime (as a felony) &lt;em&gt;NOTE:The crime of burglary was originally defined under the common law to protect people, since there were other laws (as those defining larceny and trespass) that protected property. State laws have broadened the common-law crime. Entering at night is often no longer required and may be considered an aggravating factor. The building may be something other than a dwelling, such as a store or pharmacy. Some states have included vehicles under their burglary statute. There are degrees of burglary, and some of the usual aggravating factors are the presence of people and use of a deadly weapon.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Robbery-&lt;/strong&gt; the unlawful taking away of personal property from a person by violence or by threat of violence that causes fear : larceny from the person or immediate presence of another by violence or threat of violence and with intent to steal &lt;em&gt;NOTE:&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;aggravated robbery: robbery committed with aggravating factors (as use of a weapon, infliction of bodily injury, or use of an accomplice) armed robbery: robbery committed by a person armed with a dangerous or deadly weapon simple robbery: robbery that does not involve any aggravating factors &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Definitions found &lt;a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clear as mud, right? I'll try to explain. Burglary means to stay inside a dwelling or to enter a dwelling illegally with intent to commit a crime. (Dwelling could mean vehicle as well.) Robbery means to take something from a person or to take personal property by force or threat of force. Ex: You return home to find your door open and your electronics missing. You have been the victim of a burglary. You are in your house when someone enters with a gun aimed at you and takes your electronics. You have been the victim of a robbery. Becoming more clear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have answered alot of calls that have gone like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Me: 911, what is the address of your emergency?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Caller: address given.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: Ok, tell me what's the problem there?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Caller: I've been robbed!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: You've been robbed? Explain to me what happened.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Caller: I came home and found my house was broken into sometime over the weekend."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now as we've all learned, this is not in fact a robbery. This is a burglary, and still something that needs to be investigated, but not with the urgency of a robbery. I answer alot of calls that start with "I've been robbed" that end up being a burglary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to the rest of my story. I was at work one night and answered a call that went like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Me: 911, what is the address of your emergency?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Caller: address given.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: Ok, tell me what's the problem there?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Caller: I've been robbed!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: You've been robbed? Explain to me what happened.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Caller: These guys came in and pepper sprayed me and then beat me up and took all my money!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That my friends, is a robbery! A very legitimate robbery! It was handled very well and very quickly. We had officers to the location within probably less than a minute of the call being received. The victim was such a good caller. Even though he had been pepper sprayed he was still able to give me the information I needed to give to the officers. (I don't know how many of you have been pepper sprayed, but it's not easy to do anything when it's still in your face and in the few minutes following!) We got help to the victim and descriptions out to patrolling officers in such a quick manner. We don't have robbery's often, but when we do they are definitely handled the way they should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, there is a point to all of this. Moral of the story is: When someone calls in saying "I've been robbed", it just might be true!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-1009427318716978654?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1009427318716978654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=1009427318716978654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/1009427318716978654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/1009427318716978654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/02/ive-been-robbed.html' title='I&apos;ve been robbed!?!'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-8549188839986538877</id><published>2009-02-14T23:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T23:24:25.741-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weather or Not</title><content type='html'>Whether or not we're ready for it, the weather is here. And Oh Boy is it here! We have had so many weather related incidents lately, most in the form of traffic accidents. It seems like every car on the road has been involved in some sort of accident. There are days when it's snowing outside that I'm nervous to drive home because of the amount of weather related issues we have had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading online today at &lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com/"&gt;ksl.com&lt;/a&gt; about the storm that blew through this morning. It turns out that our police department isn't the only one struggling with traffic accidents due to snow. In fact, it sounds like our problems don't even start to match those of other agencies. Just a word to the wise, drive safely out on the streets. You may be a good driver, but that doesn't mean that all the other drivers are! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=148&amp;amp;sid=5597039"&gt;http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=148&amp;amp;sid=5597039&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-8549188839986538877?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/8549188839986538877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=8549188839986538877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/8549188839986538877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/8549188839986538877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/02/weather-or-not.html' title='Weather or Not'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-211920320696332597</id><published>2009-01-25T18:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T18:33:14.427-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Firefigther's Prayer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SX0gZnmOABI/AAAAAAAAA0I/h2gUfI5POIw/s1600-h/firepic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295424361355673618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SX0gZnmOABI/AAAAAAAAA0I/h2gUfI5POIw/s320/firepic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I posted the Police Officer's Prayer the other day and it made me wonder if there were one for firefighters. I was looking online and found this picture with the poem and I loved it and decided to share it too! (I also posted this on my other &lt;a href="http://kaylarae4.blogspot.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt; so if you read both I apologize for the duplicate posts.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A Firefighter's Prayer&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am called to duty, God,&lt;br /&gt;Whenever flames may rage,&lt;br /&gt;Give me strength to save some life,&lt;br /&gt;Whatever be its age.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Help me embrace a little child&lt;br /&gt;Before it is too late&lt;br /&gt;Or save an older person&lt;br /&gt;From the horror of that fate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Enable me to be alert&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And hear the weakest shout,&lt;br /&gt;And quickly and efficiently&lt;br /&gt;To put the fire out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I want to fill my calling&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And to give the best in me&lt;br /&gt;To guard my every neighbor&lt;br /&gt;And protect his property.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And if, according to my fate,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am to lose my life&lt;br /&gt;Please bless with your protecting&lt;br /&gt;Those that I loved in life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have personally seen the blessing that firefighters are. I am proud to say my dad is a firefighter. He is one of the best people and best firefigher's that I know. He works with some amazing people. Please thank a firefighter if you see one. They do put their lives on the line to serve us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-211920320696332597?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/211920320696332597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=211920320696332597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/211920320696332597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/211920320696332597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/01/firefigthers-prayer.html' title='A Firefigther&apos;s Prayer'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SX0gZnmOABI/AAAAAAAAA0I/h2gUfI5POIw/s72-c/firepic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-2954670759520411851</id><published>2009-01-22T01:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T01:58:47.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Police Officer's Prayer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SXhCA5mI_RI/AAAAAAAAAz4/p0yg71RGlHU/s1600-h/Police+Officers+Prayer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294053945202244882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 231px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SXhCA5mI_RI/AAAAAAAAAz4/p0yg71RGlHU/s320/Police+Officers+Prayer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have been thinking alot about the risk that Police Officers take every single day on the job. One day while I was thinking about it, I ran across the above picture and poem and wanted to share it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A Police Officer's Prayer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Lord, I ask You to be with me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In a very special way&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As I face the challenges&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That I must face each day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Please give to me compassion&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;For the innocent I see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Help me to protect &amp;amp; serve&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Those who depend on me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And when duty calls to danger&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Walk closely by my side&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Instill in me great courage&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And be my strength, my guide&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And whatever I am called to do &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Always thankful I will be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That You have been the unseen guest&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Walking next to me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Please just always take the time to thank a police officer next time you see them. Remember that they are putting their lives on the line to protect and serve you and me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-2954670759520411851?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2954670759520411851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=2954670759520411851' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2954670759520411851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2954670759520411851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/01/police-officers-prayer.html' title='A Police Officer&apos;s Prayer'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SXhCA5mI_RI/AAAAAAAAAz4/p0yg71RGlHU/s72-c/Police+Officers+Prayer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-2574412312358682517</id><published>2009-01-19T14:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T14:51:49.575-08:00</updated><title type='text'>DUI's</title><content type='html'>I don't know what it is about this time of year, but it seems like there are so many more DUI's than normal. (DUI=Driving Under the Influence) We have had so many DUI's lately. I have worked for 3 years at the police department and I still get suprised sometimes when at 6:30 in the morning we find someone who is DUI. Whether they started drinking that morning or are still drunk from the night before, it suprises me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night we had a drunk prisoner who was found &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Driving_under_the_influence"&gt;DUI&lt;/a&gt; after wrecking his vehicle. He had the highest &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blood_alcohol"&gt;BAC&lt;/a&gt; I have ever seen in a conscious person. (BAC=Blood Alcohol Content) His BAC was .485. The highest I have ever seen in a conscious person is .410. The legal limit in Utah is .08 so needless to say he was FAR over the legal limit. Also, he's lucky he was alive. People have died from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Short-term_effects_of_alcohol"&gt;alcohol poisoning&lt;/a&gt; with BAC less than our prisoner was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that our prisoner was conscious, breathing, driving, walking...all amazed me. Now, don't get me wrong, he didn't do any of these things very well. He was driving and got in an accident. He was sitting down and then stood up, turned and crashed face-first on the floor. He went unconscious several times. He spent quite a bit of time getting medical help before coming back to jail and passing out on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've noticed alot lately how many drunk people we have dealt with and other agencies have dealt with. It seems like such a huge percentage of our calls have included alcohol. I don't know if it's just becoming more prevalent, or if it's because it's been so cold outside that people are stuck inside and entertain themselves with alcohol, but it's a serious problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To end I thought I'd post a link to an article on &lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com/"&gt;KSL&lt;/a&gt;. I'm not saying that any of these people deserved what happened to them, but I am glad that nothing happened to an innocent, sober person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=148&amp;amp;sid=5354944"&gt;http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=148&amp;amp;sid=5354944&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-2574412312358682517?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2574412312358682517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=2574412312358682517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2574412312358682517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2574412312358682517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/01/duis.html' title='DUI&apos;s'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-6007614335507339954</id><published>2009-01-13T23:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T23:52:58.574-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not exciting</title><content type='html'>I know my last 2 posts weren't very exciting and weren't very law related. I haven't really been able to think of any super exciting police stories to share lately. I promise that I'll pay closer attention at work this week and find a good story to tell. We're busy all day every day and yet I still find a lack of exciting things lately. They're out there though so I'll find them soon and let you know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for being patient with my lack of posts and for keeping up with this blog. I appreciate all of the support you have given me through the short course since this blog has been up. I promsie to make it good one of these days!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-6007614335507339954?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/6007614335507339954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=6007614335507339954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/6007614335507339954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/6007614335507339954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/01/not-exciting.html' title='Not exciting'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-7158821263837324265</id><published>2009-01-13T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T23:48:44.082-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More than just a 'hero'</title><content type='html'>Everyone loves firemen (and paramedics). They are the heroes. Very rarely are people disappointed to see them. Police officers are often hated by people, or at least unappreciated, but not the firemen. All they want to do is help people. They are loved by most everybody. I know of at least 1 person though who wouldn't agree with the 'firemen are heroes philosophy'. My doctor told me the following story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My doctors brother is an engineer for a fire company in Salt Lake County. (We'll call his brother Marc.) Marcs' company has 4 people on the engine that are all firefighters/paramedics. One night they were paged out to a female who had been stabbed. Officers arrived on scene and declared it safe for fire units to enter. The firefighters went inside and started treating the patient in the living room. The officers and suspect (who is the victims life partner) were also in the room. The suspect was not detained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***Important side note: Marc is approx 6'5 and about 225 pounds...most of which is muscle. He's not little to say the least. The suspect is a female who is approx 120 pounds soaking wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Marc and his partners were treating the patient, Marc started looking around at his surroundings. As he was watching he noticed the supsect inching her way closer to a china hutch in the room. He was trying to pay attention to his patient but was also staying alert to what was going on in the room. Within just a few seconds he saw the suspect open a drawer on the hutch, grab a knife and start charging towards the victim. Marc decided he needed to do something (especially since the officers noticed a second too late) so less than a second before the suspect would have been on top of the patient with a knife, he reacted. Marc turned, squared off with the suspect and punched her square in the face. Apparently it was one of those punches like you see on tv...where the person being punched is literally lifted off the ground and thrown backwards by the force. The officers were very grateful for Marc's quick reaction. He helped save further injury to the responders and the patient. Marc was a little annoyed, because they now had 2 patients instead of 1 because of his actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turns out that the suspect decided that day that she wasn't a big fan of the 'city heroes' who came to help her out, and probably won't be for a good deal of the future. Marc also made a decision. He decided it's good he isn't an officer...he got a taste and it turned out the bite was more bitter than he expected. He learned that day that firefighters have other responsibilites than those that have made them heroes. His job is to save his patients, and that day he definately did. It also taught him (and me) that you never know what's going to happen. At any second a medical call can turn into just about anything! Just another reason to be safe out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-7158821263837324265?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7158821263837324265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=7158821263837324265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/7158821263837324265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/7158821263837324265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/01/more-than-just-hero.html' title='More than just a &apos;hero&apos;'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-3814075241465686163</id><published>2009-01-13T23:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T23:30:20.724-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fires</title><content type='html'>I think I'm immune to thinking things are 'exciting' at work. It seems like daily routine to me now but then I get a reality check. My doctor asked me what had been exciting at work lately and I had to think about it for a minute. Then I thought of a pretty good fire I told him about, so if it's good enough for the doc then it's good enough for everyone! =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had an interesting and different fire the other day. We got a third party call about a fire in a shed. While the fire department and officers were on their way over, the home owner called us about the fire. Part of the way through the call she tells us the shed is full of gun poweder and ammunition. Apparently that's where her husband does all his gun stuff. Now as you all can imagine, gun powder in the middle of a fire isn't good seeing how flamable it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the officers arrived on scene the advised that they heard 'shots' going off every 2-3 seconds. There was no active attack on this fire. The fire department took their precious time putting it out to make sure everyone (them, the police and the citizens) were all kept safe from the exploding shots. Gun powder in the middle of a fire is never a good idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also had another fire a few days later. A family had a fire going in their fire place when all of the sudden flames and smoke started coming out the bottom of the fireplace on the outside of the house. Again, the fire department and officers responded. The problem with fires like that is that the fires stay in the walls. So there is a home now with several holes punched in the walls both inside and out. The fire was eventually put out though and it could have been alot worse. But 2 fires in 1 week is pretty rare and pretty 'exciting' if you're the firemen. It definately kept us on our toes and tied up for awhile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-3814075241465686163?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3814075241465686163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=3814075241465686163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3814075241465686163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3814075241465686163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2009/01/fires.html' title='Fires'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-357453469863234316</id><published>2008-12-17T08:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T08:16:24.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Routine</title><content type='html'>It's been awhile since I've posted. Things at work have been busy but mostly routine. As is expected when it first starts to snow, we've had traffic accidents. We also have had alot of theft calls lately as well. People aren't the smartest, but it's job security for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did take my first "gunshot" call a few weeks ago. A guy had shot himself and his wife called to report it. It was a little stressful. I was mostly getting bugged at the wife because she was hysterical and not really giving me any useful information. But I also can't really imagine how I would react on the phone to someone asking me 100 questions if I just watched my loved one shoot themselves. All is well though...the officers were safe, the lady calmed down enough to help me a little, and the victim got taken care of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've worked for Orem for 3 years and that was the first gunshot I had ever taken. It does add a level of stress to the call that I hadn't quite experienced before. I was very concerned about the patient, but I was also very concerned about where the gun was. I didn't know why the victim shot himself. Maybe he was angry at something and obviously he wasn't thinking rationally. I didn't want his wife or my officers to be in danger. I just kept asking "Where is the gun now? Where is the gun now?" and finally got an answer. It was quite the call to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd say hopefully I'll have something exciting to post about soon, but in me wishing that I'm kind of wishing death or danger on someone, so I'm not going to say it. The joy of my job is that you never know when something is going to go wrong. It can change in an instant!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-357453469863234316?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/357453469863234316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=357453469863234316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/357453469863234316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/357453469863234316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2008/12/routine.html' title='Routine'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-2800922333964089190</id><published>2008-11-21T20:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T21:00:38.151-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Saver</title><content type='html'>Dispatchers save lives! Don't believe me? Let me tell you what happened tonight at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was working at the college (my part time job) in dispatch. The officers had just left the PD when I received a slightly panicked call from a lady saying she was stuck. It took me a minute (after calming her down and getting used to her accent) to get more of the story out of her. She said she was stuck in one of the buildings on campus. I thought I had heard wrong, so I verified "ma'am, you're stuck INSIDE one of the buildings on campus?" She assured me that she was. I was a little dumbfounded, having never found myself in the same predicament. I kept thinking I should ask her if she tried the door, but to me that would be the obvious thing to do before calling the police. I asked her if she's usually here this late and she said sometimes but she's never been trapped before. I asked her what door she usually leaves through and she told me but said it's locked. I finally, having run out of all other ideas, asked her if she physically tried the door. She said she tried the emergency exit but it was locked. I told her the emergency exit couldn't be the only door in the whole building and asked if she had tried any of the others. In a very exasperated tone she told me she just needed help because she was locked in the building. As a last effort I asked her how she knew she was locked. Her response was "I was sitting in my office and saw the custodians come by and lock all of the doors in the whole building." Without trying to make her more emotional I gently reminded her that sometimes doors can be locked from the outside but still open from the inside, and persuaded her to try a door...just once. I told her I'd stay on the phone. (I think I was emotional support...) She went to the closest door and pushed the handle, and sure enough she was freed from her fearful imprisonment. She thanked me repeatedly, told me her and her coworker (yes, there were 2 of them...and they were both instructors) were very thankful for my help and we disconnected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knew that a very tired dispatcher could help 2 accomplished instructors figure out how to open a door? Good thing dispatchers save lives, eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-2800922333964089190?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2800922333964089190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=2800922333964089190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2800922333964089190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2800922333964089190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2008/11/life-saver.html' title='Life Saver'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-1379080470865492202</id><published>2008-11-08T19:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T20:22:47.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ultimate Sacrifice</title><content type='html'>I think the worst thing that could happen in law enforcement is for an officer (or firefighter/paramedic) to be killed in the line of duty. We have been fortunate to not have this happen in the time I've worked for the city. I know we've have several officers injured in the line of duty but none killed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A North Salt Lake City officer was killed while pursuing a suspect in a stolen vehicle. Officer Charles Skinner slid out on a wet road and crashed into a sign causing critical injuries. After surgery and other tests it was found that he had no brain activity and was taken off life support. Officer Skinner has 2 small children, twins, that are just 4 weeks old and now without a father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know Officer Skinner. I had never even heard of him before his accident. But I feel for him, his coworkers and his family. What an awful thing to have to deal with. I can't imagine the pain they are all feeling. I try to think how I would feel if it were one of my coworkers but I can't even begin to imagine. It's a scary thing to think about. I have friends and family members who are police officers and who put their lives on the line every day to protect us. What an amazing sacrifice they make every single day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want us all to take a moment to remember those who have died in the line of duty, doing what they love and protecting their communities. These officers have made the ultimate sacrifice. I thank their families for sharing them with us. I think of all the people who were helped because of their work. I think of their coworkers, their friends whose lives they were willing to die protecting. These officer are my hero's, as are the officers who put on their uniforms every day, kiss their families goodbye and head to work to protect people like you and me. Thank you for making that sacrifice. Please remember them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com/?nid=148&amp;amp;sid=4739391"&gt;http://www.ksl.com/?nid=148&amp;amp;sid=4739391&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sltrib.com/ci_10935660"&gt;http://www.sltrib.com/ci_10935660&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-1379080470865492202?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1379080470865492202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=1379080470865492202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/1379080470865492202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/1379080470865492202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2008/11/ultimate-sacrifice.html' title='The Ultimate Sacrifice'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-1213330904792959357</id><published>2008-11-08T19:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T19:49:50.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What am I thinking?</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wonder why I'm in the law enforcement field and I seriously consider if I really want to be an officer after all. I still want to be an officer but I seriously question my sanity sometimes because of that choice. Why would I willing put myself in a career where everyone hates you? Why would I put myself in career where women have to work twice as hard as men to receive half the credit? Why do I want to work with bad people, drunk people and crazy people all day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week at work has been interesting. It's been surprisingly slower than usual which at times is nice. But we have not been bored! As dispatchers we have to watch the jail screens. We have 3 big screen TVs on our wall with motion sensor cameras for the jail, parking lots, etc. When anyone is moving in the jail it pops up on a full screen as well as still being on a quarter screen on a different TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am always so amazed at the similar way most drunk people act. I don't know what it is about alcohol that makes people want to get naked, but it happens, ALOT! Sometimes they get naked and sleep, some will pace, some will get angry and some will dance. Drunk people (and alot of non-drunk people) also feel the need to cover the camera which gets them in trouble. They'll get their blankets, mats, toilet paper and clothes taken away all because they can't sit down and behave themselves. And yet so many times, as soon as those things are given back they cover the camera again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At times I feel I am too young to see some of the things we see in jail! And even worse is searching the females that come into jail. Not a fun task or something I would want anyone to have to do. I have performed pat downs, strip searches, clothing searches, watched people go to the bathroom, and stood in the jail for the officers so that their prisoners couldn't claim things were said that weren't. It's a task that comes along with my job, and even more with the job I want, but not a pleasant task at all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have people in jail who pray, sing, pace, punch walls, work out, sleep and cry. I am always interested in watching the people in jail to see what they act like. I have never been in jail and never plan on it, but I wonder what I would do if I were in that situation. It definitely is interesting (and at times humorous) to watch. It can make slow times go a little quicker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being able to be in dispatch and watch the jail has helped me feel better about my career choice. I would much rather be an officer than a jailer. Officers get to arrest people and drop them off and then they're done. Jailers (and in our case since we have our own jail, dispatchers) are babysitters. Ever tried babysitting a drunk person? I wouldn't recommend it, trust me! =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-1213330904792959357?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1213330904792959357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=1213330904792959357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/1213330904792959357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/1213330904792959357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-am-i-thinking.html' title='What am I thinking?'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-1179477577767358524</id><published>2008-10-31T14:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T15:04:31.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Support Group</title><content type='html'>I took a call a few weeks back that hit a little too close to home. Anyone else in the room could have taken the call and not been affected, but due to things in my life right now it really got to me. This happens sometimes...a dispatcher with a small child will take a call regarding a small child and it affects them a little more than it would other people. A dispatcher who knew someone recently killed in a car accident will obviously be affected differently by taking a call about a serious car accident than others would. It's the nature of our job. Because of that, I didn't say anything to anyone about being bothered by this call, I just figured after a few days I would forget about it and wouldn't be a big thing. However, it continued to bother me for days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was walking out to my car a few days ago and stopped in the parking lot to talk to one of the officers. We were just talking about work and how things were going and he asked me if I was the one who had taken that call the week before. I told him yes (thinking it was a little odd that he would ask me that...especially considering how much it had affected me) and without any knowledge of how I was feeling he told me he had responded and had been having a hard time with it. He said it hit a little too close to home for him and wanted to know how the phone call had gone and what had happened etc until they got on scene. He needed to know that to get some closure. I told him I had been struggling ever since as well and told him I wanted to know what had happened on scene so I could get some closure too. And so we stood there and talked about it. I told him what I knew, he told me what he knew and we both went away feeling much better about ourselves and that call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have come home and talked to my roommates about that call, but they wouldn't have understood what the big deal was. I could have told people in dispatch that I was bothered by that call but they wouldn't have understood why. But the officer was struggling and could tell I was too and so we were able to talk it out. I love having a support system at work. I love knowing when I need to talk to someone about a call that's eating at me or something I heard/saw that there is a whole department full of people who will talk to me and understand. They've been through it too. We have a tough job and not everyone wants to hear about it or can realize why we're affected by things the way we are. I'm glad I have a department full of support and I have taken advantage of that support many times!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sorry there were no details about the calls on these last 2 posts. Nothing I could share other than I took a child choking call, and the call I talked about in this post was a death.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-1179477577767358524?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1179477577767358524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=1179477577767358524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/1179477577767358524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/1179477577767358524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-took-call-few-weeks-back-that-hit.html' title='Support Group'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-5099148263031856853</id><published>2008-10-31T14:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T14:48:53.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little bit of stress</title><content type='html'>I realized (actually remembered) this week how much more stressful my job is than alot of other peoples job. I don't think I'm superior in any way because of that, I just think it's the honest truth. Everybody has stress at work, but my stress comes from trying to save lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at work the other day and took a 911 call where a child was choking. I will never get used to that. I have been trained, I have taken calls like this before both on the phone and while working on ambulance, but I never get used to it. When you take a call like this your heart starts to race and you can feel the adrenaline pumping. There is nothing like doing the Heimlich Maneuver over the phone on a child (or anyone for that matter). I can't even describe what it's like waiting to hear the child cry. All I wanted was to hear some type of noise coming from the child. All I could think was "please let this child start breathing again"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this call the child was able to dislodge what was caught in the throat and was crying up a storm by time paramedics arrived on scene. The child was checked and was fine! It was such a good feeling and also a reminder of the enormity of my job. When people call 911 they are putting their lives in my hands. It's quite the responsibility and adds just a little bit of stress to my life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-5099148263031856853?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5099148263031856853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=5099148263031856853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5099148263031856853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5099148263031856853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2008/10/little-bit-of-stress.html' title='A little bit of stress'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-3252851054316080955</id><published>2008-10-19T06:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T06:07:12.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Caught Up</title><content type='html'>Well, I think I am all caught up on past calls. I only posted a few, but I think it's a good way to kick off my new blog. I hope you all enjoy reading the things that happen around the city. The posts from here on out will be more current events that have happened rather than past events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who don't know, I am a 911 dispatcher for the city of Orem (and Lindon). We are responsible for all emergency and non-emergency calls for both cities. We also dispatch for police, fire and medical. We are all EMD (emergency medical dispatch) certifed and CPR certified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We work 10 hour shifts and we work 4 shifts a week. Sometimes the days are long and slow and other days it's a battle to keep our heads above water. But in the end it's rewarding. I love helping people and this job is a great way to do just that. I'm grateful for my opportunity to be in the law enforcement community and I'm grateful to work for such a great city like Orem. It's the best!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-3252851054316080955?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/3252851054316080955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=3252851054316080955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3252851054316080955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/3252851054316080955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2008/10/caught-up.html' title='Caught Up'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-7972929761039331057</id><published>2008-10-18T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T08:17:55.849-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Whole New City</title><content type='html'>Orem police, fire and dispatch has taken on a slightly new role...a whole new city. For the last 3 years that I've worked for Orem, and for years before, dispatchers were in charge of Orem police and Orem fire/medical only. On July 1st of 2008 we also started dispatching for Lindon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lindon city started their own police department and decided to pay Orem for dispatch, fire and medical assistance. We have a fire station located in Lindon right next to their police department that is staffed by Orem firefighters. They respond to Lindon calls and also Orem calls. We also dispatch for their 15 police officers. It took a little getting used to, as any change does, and there have been adjustements made all around. However, 4 months into this new change, things seem to be running smoothly and all is well. We have all gone on 2 hour ride alongs with Lindon officers to help us as dispatchers get to know the city better. We have gotten to know their officers and finally feel comfortable dispatching for a new city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a huge step we've taken, to add another city to our responsibilities. I'm glad they were confident enough in us to allow us to dispatch for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/272251/999999/"&gt;http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/272251/999999/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-7972929761039331057?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/7972929761039331057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=7972929761039331057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/7972929761039331057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/7972929761039331057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2008/10/whole-new-city.html' title='A Whole New City'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-2189163498506781782</id><published>2008-10-18T07:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T07:30:18.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Humor At Work</title><content type='html'>Sometimes our job can be humorous. I think it's healthy for us to laugh at work sometimes, especially in the field we're in. We are pounded daily with stressful calls and difficult situations. It's good to lighten the mood every once in awhile and just laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The article this post is in reference to caused quite a giggle for several people. It just goes to prove that criminals aren't always the brightest. An officer was driving in his patrol car and was stopped at a stoplight. A vehicle pulled up to him and rolled down his window, motioning for the officer to do the same. The male in the vehicle stated that he wanted to talk to the officer about a previous DUI (driving under the influence) case he had been involved in. The officer told the male to pull into the mall parking lot and they would talk about it. The driver took that as literal as it could be taken, and ran through the red light to get to the mall parking lot. When the officer was able to meet with the subject it turned out that once again, he was intoxicated, and was charged with DUI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not the brightest person ever, but at least it's one more intoxicated person off the road at his own expense! I'm glad when people like that can be taken off the road without injury or accident to them or others. And you have to get a good laugh out of the way it all happened!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/249655/17/"&gt;http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/249655/17/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-2189163498506781782?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/2189163498506781782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=2189163498506781782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2189163498506781782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/2189163498506781782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2008/10/humor-at-work.html' title='Humor At Work'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-5531131862289990147</id><published>2008-10-18T06:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T07:11:31.862-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nationwide Coverage</title><content type='html'>Orem is not a big city, especially in comparison to the actual "big cities". We do have quite a few residents and alot of day time people in the city but we're still kind of a quieter city. So for us to have a case that goes nationwide is pretty rare. When I think of police cases that go nationwide (and this one went international) I think of mass shootings, bus crashes, natural disasters, high profile murders, etc. But none of these were the type of case we had. None of these were even close. Orem went nationwide because we arrested a female for resisting arrest while being issued a citation for having a brown lawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say she was arrested for resisiting arrest, because she was. Most people chose to believe (even after it was verified otherwise) that she was arrested solely for having a brown lawn. That was not the case. She was arrested for resisting arrest while being issued a citation for having a brown lawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure you all know how this case turns out. She plead guilty to charges without going to court and the case is now closed. There were alot of people with alot of opinions on this case, and I am one of them. From the very beginning I was on the officers side. The officer involved is a good officer. Alot of people called my opinion biased because I work for the police department, and you can say that if you want, but I made a decision and I stand by it. I was able to hear both sides of the story and I believed the officer. Every person is entitled to their opinion, and I made mine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to say alot about the case. People read and heard all about it in the media. I will say that I'm glad I was able to see the support the officers in this department had for the officer involved. I'm glad I was able to see that sometimes in police work you have to make tough decisions. Alot of times people think police work is black and white, but there is a huge gray area where it's you and you alone that has to make a split second decision and stand by it. This is a great place that I work and I'm glad that we have such good officers to represent this department and this city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more thing I want to say about this situation is this: Don't believe everything you see/hear in the media. I think the media can be a great resource, but it can also be a great pitfall. When this case was going to go to trial they were going to have to bring in more than 100 people for the possible jury pool to try to find just a few who hadn't been influenced by the media and could be fair. So be careful in what you choose to believe, and once you make a decision, stand by it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/234674/99/"&gt;http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/234674/99/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-5531131862289990147?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5531131862289990147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=5531131862289990147' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5531131862289990147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5531131862289990147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2008/10/nationwide-coverage.html' title='Nationwide Coverage'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-5486167285097386968</id><published>2008-10-15T23:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T00:07:58.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saving A Life</title><content type='html'>Alot of times people ask me why I like working in law enforcement and why I want to become a police officer, and to me the answer is easy: I like helping people. Alot of times I have the opportunity to help people through the worst thing that has ever happened to them. They turn to us on the worst days of their lives and we have the responsibility to help them if and how we can. I know it's true (and it's a very valid point) that I could help people just as much by being a paramedic, and it's a safer job, but being a police officer is something I just really want to experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early one morning I was about 30 minutes from getting off a long, quiet grave shift, and was hoping for no more calls. Of course, right at that time, a 911 call came in. I answered and was talking to a man who was quite upset saying that his wife was suicidal. I asked him the address where she was and he gave me their home address but said she had left on foot and he was following her. He was such a good caller and was able to keep me updated on where she was while the officers were enroute. I asked him what she had done that led him to believe that she was suicidal, and he said that she had taken a handful of tylenol and had also tried to cut her wrists. I had officers arriving in the area when the male started to yell that she was jumping off a bridge into water and hung up on me. Right at that point an officer arrived and shortly after the backing officer arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know for sure if she had made it off the bridge or not, but it didn't sound like a good situation. We already had medical units enroute and they were upgraded to urgent response (lights and sirens). The officers on scene were quiet for a few minutes and then they got on the radio saying they were in the canal with the female who was now unconcious and they needed medical NOW!! Well, the ambulance was driving as fast as it could and it was difficult to hear the officers keep yelling for medical and medical saying they couldn't go any faster. I could hear the concern in the officers voices. Finally medical arrived and were able to help the officers get the female out of the canal and into an ambulance. They transported her urgently to the hospital where she was able to get some help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, both of the officers who went on this call are good officers. They jumped into a canal, fully dressed, in the freezing cold to save the life of a suicidal woman who they didn't know. They are police officers to help people, and that's what they did that day. Both of the officers were honored for what they did that morning, and there is a chance that the female lived due directly to the officers selfless actions. That is one of the calls that inspired me to become an officer. I had been considering it for a little before that but when I was able to see how they were able to change the life of a citizen I was inspired. I want to make the community better and that's what I saw them doing! &lt;a href="http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/235673/17/"&gt;http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/235673/17/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-5486167285097386968?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/5486167285097386968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=5486167285097386968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5486167285097386968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/5486167285097386968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2008/10/saving-life.html' title='Saving A Life'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-1121918074981380221</id><published>2008-10-15T18:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T23:43:25.484-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Most Difficult Call I've Ever Taken</title><content type='html'>One of the scariest calls I've ever taken was in January of 2007. I was working a grave shift at the 911 position when the call came in. A female called saying that her ex-husband was at her house and was banging on her door. The female was very composed and was giving some very good information over the phone. That composure quickly changed to terror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was on the phone with her (and with officers already enroute to her house) I heard some glass breaking. The caller started to get a little more upset and said her ex had just broken through the front window of the home. The caller said she and her boyfriend had gone to her bedroom and had locked themselves in. I was still talking to the female trying to get her to stay calm and give me some more information. I asked her if she thought her ex had a weapon and at that point she started to scream. I heard what sounded like a banging noise in the background and my caller was just screaming. It was the worst scream I have ever heard! I told the other dispatcher that I heard screaming and banging in the background and that nobody would talk to me on the phone and she updated the responding officers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept trying to get the lady to talk to me but she just continued to scream. I finally heard over the radio that the first officer was on scene. Due to our protocol and the situation surrouding the call I didn't disconnect right away. I was waiting to make sure the officer got out with the female before I hung up. I was still listening to screaming on the phone when I heard the officer over the radio yell "10-33".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the police field we use 10-codes. When an officer arrives on scene he says 10-23, when we copy what is said to us we say 10-4, when we need him to make a phone call we say 10-21 etc. One of the codes I hate to hear over the radio is 10-33 (and I've only heard it 4 times in the 3 1/2 years I've been a dispatcher). 10-33 means "help me quick"...in simpler terms it means "one of us is going to die if I don't get help now"! It is not a good thing to hear over the radio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I heard the officer yell 10-33 the phone line went dead and it was silence. I no longer had the female screaming in my ear, I no longer heard banging in the background and I had a pit in my stomach. When an officer yells 10-33 the radio is cleared code-red (no radio traffic) until we hear the officer is ok. It was probably only 1 minute of radio silence, but it seemed to last forever. I was sick to my stomach concerned about the officer and his safety. Eventually other officers arrived on scene and helped him get the situation under control and finally told us the officer was ok. It was such a relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night that officer came up into dispatch and told us the story. He arrived on scene to see shattered glass and entered the home to find blood all over the home. He also heard screaming down the hall. The officer, sensing he needed to help now and couldn't wait for backup, went down the hall to see what was going on. When he got to the end of the hall he saw a male at the end of the hall with a very big knife, stabbing people through a hole in a door. Apparently the banging noise I had heard was the male suspect kicking in the door. He had kicked the door almost completely in and also had a kicked a large hole in the door. My caller and her boyfriend were on the other side of that door and were having to hold the door with their hands to keep him from coming in. However, there was a large hole in the door and the suspect was stabbing his ex and her boyfriend through that hole. I was on the phone listening to a woman who was being stabbed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The officer said he had grabbed his gun and told the suspect to stop. He said the suspect turned and "squared-off" with him, aiming the knife right at him. The officer said he was about to pull the trigger when the suspect turned away from him and started stabbing through the door again. At that time the officer grabbed his taser and tased the man until his backup arrived and they were able to take control of the situation and take the suspect into custody. They also had to transport all 3 (the 2 victims and the suspect) to local hospitals to be treated. The suspect, who was intoxicated, was then taken to jail. It turns out there were also 2 children in the home who were unharmed and returned to their mother after she was treated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how many of you have heard the death scream before, but it is scary. It is enough to make you sick to your stomach. It is something I could live with never hearing again. I am just so grateful in this situation that my caller lived and also that my officer lived. I would have felt such a huge responsibility if anything had happened to that officer. It is our job, our main responsibility, to keep the officers safe. They are putting their lives in our hands every time they come to work and that isn't something I take lightly. I am so happy that this call had the ending that it did. To look at the whole story on line as it was posted in the daily herald click the following link: &lt;a href="http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/208230/17/"&gt;http://www.heraldextra.com/content/view/208230/17/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-1121918074981380221?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/1121918074981380221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=1121918074981380221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/1121918074981380221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/1121918074981380221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2008/10/scariest-call-ive-ever-taken.html' title='The Most Difficult Call I&apos;ve Ever Taken'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-571854872149235711</id><published>2008-10-15T18:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T18:31:27.851-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Going back</title><content type='html'>My first few posts on here will be going back in time a little and posting a few calls that were memorable to me and/or the community. One of the most difficult calls I've taken, a call that went nationwide, a huge step for our department and others. I hope you don't mind the stroll back through memory lane. I promise after I post these past calls that I'll start with more current ones!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-571854872149235711?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/571854872149235711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=571854872149235711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/571854872149235711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/571854872149235711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2008/10/going-back.html' title='Going back'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-501988874492639064.post-4411137630351316159</id><published>2008-10-15T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T19:05:23.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Blog</title><content type='html'>Hi all! I have started a second blog. This blog is a place where I can post my thoughts about work. I also plan on posting articles about work. My friends always get tired of listening to my work stories, so now I have a place to put them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now obviously I can't put every call on here, and obviously I can't put every detail of calls on here, but there are plenty of things I can share and I intend on sharing them with you on this blog! I have named this blog "walking in others shoes" because I'm hoping it can give everyone who reads it a different perspective on law enforcement. Whether you are seeing it from your point of view, a police officers point of view, a dispatchers point of view, the suspects point of view or the victims point of view, I hope you can learn something. Take a minute to walk in others shoes and see things the way they see things!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really appreciate the opportunity I have to work for the Orem Police Department as a dispatcher. I have learned so much in the three short years I have been there and I feel like I have grown as a person. I have seen and heard alot of difficult and life changing things. I have become much more grateful for the little things in life and also for the security I have in my life. I appreciate every day my opportunity to help make my community a better place to live. I can't guarantee regular posts...I never know what's going to happen at work on any given day, but I would really appreciate your thoughts/comments on different items that are posted. Happy reading!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/501988874492639064-4411137630351316159?l=walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/feeds/4411137630351316159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=501988874492639064&amp;postID=4411137630351316159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/4411137630351316159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/501988874492639064/posts/default/4411137630351316159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://walkinginothersshoes.blogspot.com/2008/10/another-blog.html' title='Another Blog'/><author><name>Kayla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10040516840024126162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nIFo6sgAEpA/SQ44uBW8ThI/AAAAAAAAAsw/DAjRFOo9ngI/S220/kayla4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
