Apparently this is a standard procedure all paramedics follow at the scene of an accident when they come across your cell phone.
We all carry our mobile phones with names & numbers stored in its memory but nobody, other than ourselves, knows which of these numbers belong to our closest family or friends.
If we were to be involved in an accident or were taken ill, the people attending us would have our mobile phone but wouldn't know who to call. Yes, there are hundreds of numbers stored but which one is the contact person in case of an emergency? Hence this 'ICE' (In Case of Emergency) Campaign
The concept of 'ICE' is catching on quickly. It is a method of contact during emergency situations. As cell(mobile) phones are carried by the majority of the population, all you need to do is store the number of a contact person or persons who should be contacted during emergency under the name 'ICE' ( In Case Of Emergency).
The idea was thought up by a paramedic who found that when he went to the scenes of accidents, there were always mobile phones with patients, but they didn't know which number to call. He therefore thought that it would be a good idea if there was a nationally recognized name for this purpose. In an emergency situation, Emergency Service personnel and hospital Staff would be able to quickly contact the right person by simply dialing the number you have stored as 'ICE.'
For more than one contact name simply enter ICE1, ICE2 and ICE3 etc. A great idea that will make a difference!
Let's spread the concept of ICE by storing an ICE number in our Mobile phones today!
Please forward this. It won't take too many 'forwards' before everybody will know about this. It really could save your life, or put a loved one's mind at rest. ICE will speak for you when you are not able to.
On Thursday the 13th, Alice had her right aortic artery surgery, and everything went well; however, only after some of the morphine’s effects faded did we realize that she had zero use of her entire left side: arm and leg, and wide opened eyes staring straight ahead. The social worker informed us that there is a good chance of her being transferred up to Denton Regional hospital as an In-Patience for total rehab care, seeing that we have good health insurance: Blue Cross and Blue Shield.
Yesterday, Thursday the 20th Alice was transferred from Medical City Dallas, by ambulance, to Denton Regional Hospital in Denton, of course. Even though I have spent literally every day and night with her, even I am under the visiting curfew hours of 4:00 pm -9:00 pm, for calls as well.
She's in a room, so far, by herself. The schedule is very regimented, from wake-up, dressing, meals, therapy, to visiting hours, and when to bathe. Being alone and with so much structure placed on her Alice is feeling very overwhelmed, but seems to be facing it well, and eager to comply knowing that it will lead to her personal independence and going home again.
I'm doing well, am able to come home and write this e-mail, balance the check book, get finances in order, feed our little homely zoo of pets, clean the apartment, and yes rest a bit. I'll return to work on Monday, thanks to my FMLA and insurance I feel like I have been able to help Alice out and repay her a little for the past 26 years.
Alice is back home, as of late Saturday evening. We’re settling down into the new routine of waiting for her surgery in two weeks; new higher-priced meds, the nice but odd feeling of being back home, and not in the regimented control of hospital wake-ups.
I’m exhausted, but glad to have her back home, feeling like I’ve missed another near-miss bullet that could have taken her away from me. Have I taken her so for granted, that our lives together has been so brief already? I would gladly exchange mine for hers in a heart beat if I could; ‘cause I know I could stand the pressures more readily, but know she would say the same of me as well. I’m scared, more than I’ve ever been, of being alone without her.
But its not about me…
Here's a picture of my family, taken about 1968. Tracy, Bobbie, Linda, 'DeDe'. I use to really hate being called "DeDe". Don't know why, really. A kid thing or maybe too many negative memories attached to it. Years later friends were allowed to call me 'Dave.' Many many years later, when I developed a relationship with my mother again; she called me 'DeDe' a couple of times, then later realized I responded better to David. So much water under the bridge now, uhm? But - Don't I look cute next to my mother?
Painting by Bobbie Lee Snow "Sunset Windmill" (c) 1978.
On July the 28th, 1941 Elmo and Drucilla Snow welcomed the birth of their first born son, Bobbie Lee Snow into their small Comanche, Texas home. Their later arrivals, were two daughters, Yvonne and Virginia Marie; and later still, they were followed by another son, Richard Elmo.
Yet, it was the freckled faced, red head turned white - "Bob"; who is the individual that has drawn us all together here today. Bob Snow was the great-grand father of Savannah, and Jamison Garza, the grandfather of Elizabeth Rebecca, and the father of two sons: Tracy Lee Snow and David DeLane Snow.
After many personal struggles, and a losing battle with emphysema, and heart problems, my dad passed-away from this life unto the next, on April 2nd 2008. Humorously, one of the last things my dad said to me during his final hospital stay was, "Son, a lot of people talk about going home to be with Jesus; well, I've got a few things to chat with him about too. I'll be fine son, just take care of your family."
My father was the type of man, that - really at any point during his life, you would automatically realize as one who took things seriously. A no nonsense kind of guy, who preferred getting down to the business at hand. He was a perfectionist; sometimes to a fault. I remember a motto he lived by, and continuously drove home to me, by how he conducted himself in public: "If you don't have time to do things right the first time, then when will you?" Which, was just his way of saying - "Son, be the best man you can possibly be, at all times."
He was a devout and loyal friend, to any who claimed him as such. He fiercely believed in God; and earnestly sought the presence of deity in his daily experience. My dad was a fly fisherman, an artist, a metal worker, a pizza maker, an engraver, certainly not least - a beloved school-bus driver; but above and beyond all else - he was a man of integrity. Though I am not my father, I am no less proud to announce, that I am one of the sons of Bobbie Lee Snow. I love you dad, and we'll miss you greatly - thank you for being a part of all our lives.
I wrote a poem years ago, and after dabbling on it here and there it continues to grow out of control. THE NEPHILIM AGE has become a complex epic, with detailed layers and characters I never originally envisioned.
A How To...
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle Autumn's rain.
When you wake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.
Pagan, Christian, and agnostic alike, [know]... that
these words expressed the "right" things at the death of a much-loved person.
But to be born again, you must die
The Paganistic origins of Christianity run deeper than you know. Even its most basic notion of the resurrection of the devine was borrowed from the Pagans; Blessed Be!
I came across a really fasinating site the other day.
Sorry I've not kept up to date - but I'm back! We are glad that Michael is back are his feet, but Alice and I are looking forward to having our home back to ourselves, again.
