Once upon a time, a farmer who was far out in the hills of a nearby forest, stumbled upon an abandoned eagle's nest and in it was an egg still warm. 

He took the eagle's egg back to his farm and laid it in the nest of one of his hens.

 The egg hatched and the baby eagle grew up along with the other chickens. It spent its life within the farmyard and rarely looked up. When it was very old, one day it lifted up its head and saw above it a wonderful sight, an eagle circling high above in the sky. Looking at it, the old creature sighed and said to itself, 

"If only I had been born an eagle".



In my long career as a paramedic, I believe I saw first hand the worst thing a woman can do to a man. We were once called to the local state prison to transport a man to the hospital who was having chest pain. Other than that, he was pretty stable so it was a quiet 30-minute transport to the closest emergency room. We didn’t usually talk to the prisoners during transport, but somehow we started chatting and I asked the guy what he was “in” for. He tells me he was sentenced to prison for about 20 years for molesting both of his daughters. I was repulsed. I just wanted this scumbag out of my ambulance immediately I was so disgusted.

But then he immediately starts telling me how it was all a setup by his ex-wife and how he’s really innocent and nobody will believe him. He’s on his second attorney to try to get a new trial and he’s hoping somebody will finally grant him a new opportunity to clear his name. The prison guard riding in the back of the ambulance with us (he was sitting behind the patient) looks at me and rolls his eyes and smirks and says to me, “They all say that. Don’t listen to his bullshit. He’s been telling that to everyone who will listen.” The prisoner looks at me for some sort of sympathy but I just sternly look down at my patient report and tell him to lie back and rest and stop talking. He started sobbing and cried, “Even the paramedic that’s supposed to be saving my life hates me!” I certainly felt no sympathy for the guy at the time. I had passed judgment on him, as had the prison guard, and decided this guy was a disgusting pedophile and I’d just as soon not have to deal with him at all. Just touching him to check his blood pressure made my skin crawl.

It was approximately two years later when I happened upon a newspaper article in our local paper about a guy who’d been in the local prison for several years for child molestation. He’d eventually been granted a new trial and at some point during that second trial, both of his daughters admitted that they’d been made to create this false story against their dad at the behest of his ex-wife, who wanted to punish him for the divorce. His sentence was ultimately vacated and he was released from prison. Not sure whatever happened to the ex-wife, but I know the prosecutor said they’d be exploring charges against her.

I didn’t recognize the name of the prisoner in the article, but I immediately recognized his face when I saw a photo of him in court, weeping when the judge ordered him released. He was the same prisoner I’d transported two years before and had treated like crap. The guilt I felt at that moment was overwhelming. I wanted to find a way to contact him to apologize (if he’d even remember me). I wonder to this day whether he was ever able to repair his relationship with his kids, or whether he was ever able to repair his life. The guy spent some seven years in prison based on a bullshit charge that his ex-wife put their young kids up to. It’s a horrific thought and it still haunts me to this day.



Let me tell you about the night my wife walked in on me with a totally naked woman. To be clear this is not my current wife but my ex wife. At the time of this situation she was my wife.

We were having a pool party in our home and there were about 80 or more people. There was this couple, let’s call them Bob and Gwen, a quite young and attractive couple. He was around 27 and she was 21. I would describe her looks as a young Gwynneth Paltrow. As the night wore on, I noticed Gwen becoming more and more intoxicated. At one point I observed her making out with a guy who was not her boyfriend.

Later someone came up to me and told me I need to check out a situation in the bathroom. Apparently there was a fight going on. When I got there there, Bob was exchanging words with the guy Gwen was making out with. So I stepped in and asked both of them to leave and not come back. I told Bob to come back tomorrow, Gwen will be fine, she will sleep it off. I won’t let her leave with anyone or even by herself in her condition. The two men left escorted by some of my other friends.

I went back to the bathroom to clean up. I got in closed the door and turned on the lights and there sitting on the edge of the tub was Gwen. She was crying and she was totally naked. What do I do? I went thru all my options. Yes, there were several options. Admittedly, some of them were not very honorable but they were options nonetheless. It was at this timely moment that my wife walked in. First she saw me and smiled and almost immediately after she noticed the drunk naked woman, actually her best friend, sitting at the edge of the tub. And her jaw dropped. I was speechless. I did not know what to say. Is there anything I could say that would make this situation less ‘suspicious’ or more ‘innocent’. Finally I stammered and was able to manage a “Look honey, she’s crying”.

Finally, my wife took charge of the situation. She kicked me out of the bathroom and asked me to bring back a towel and some clothes. She also told me to wind down the party and send people home. By the time I had sent guests home and cleaned up, my wife had tucked Gwen in the spare bedroom.

At breakfast the next day, Gwen apologized for her behavior. When we were alone she asked me “Did you see me naked?” I said “Yup”. She winced and asked “how much did you see? “. I replied “Everything.” She said “Seriously?”. I replied “Don’t worry. I didn’t take any pictures.”

That was my most awkward moment. When my wife walked in on me and her totally naked friend. FYI, I had all my clothes on and at no time was there any physical contact between her and me.



I was in a car accident 9 years ago, this November it will be 10 years. Driving along the mountainous highway with my cousin and brother, having a good time, coming back from a weekend trip to my aunt’s. Snowing. Some black ice in the side lanes, but we were cruising in the middle. Obeying traffic laws and then some, due to the weather. “Our song” came on, the favourite song of all three of us, Fuel by Metallica. We were coming up on a nearby town when there’s this horrible screeching sound. It’s coming from the truck.

You see, there was a SUV that had slammed over the meridian and into us.

What had been the three of us jamming out and being merry, turned into our worst nightmares. The truck spun a few times times before hitting the blockade on the side of the road and flipping, rolling 4 times. I remember the snow falling, after the truck finally came to a stop. Falling and turning red. I remember looking at my brother, who reached out and grabbed my hand. I remember him trying to shake my cousin awake.

I blacked out due to blood loss before the police or ambulance got there. I woke up en-route to the air field in order to be air-lifted to hospital. I asked where my brother and cousin were. The paramedics just gave me looks of sympathy as they worked on stopping as much bleeding as possible. Again, I black out.

My next memory is waking up in hospital, and scaring the crap out of my nurse, who went running to get the doctor. They both came running in, and I’m told that I wasn’t expected to make it. Later that day, they take out the air tube and make sure I can breath on my own, then put me on oxygen. I’m allowed water and ice chips. My mother comes in and sits with me for hours, sometimes crying, sometimes so numb she looks like a zombie.

Two days go by like this, with me not be able to ask the questions I want to ask so desperately. Where’s my brother? My cousin?

The police come in to question me, finally having permission from my mother and doctor. I can only nod or shake my head. I’m told the SUV belonged to someone who had been drunk, and was outrunning police at the time of the accident, failing to stop for a traffic stop in order to get a DUI. That once the woman is recovered from her injuries, she’s facing prison time.

Three more days. I start getting flashes of pain, not understanding where they’re coming from. My doctor comes in, and I finally ask him about my injuries, why I feel this random pain. 4 broken ribs, 1 broken clean off that had been wedged under my diaphragm and was screwed back into place during one of my surgeries. Concussion. Fractured jaw that was plated. A deep crack in my pelvis that, had I not been hugging a pillow to my lap while in the truck, would be a break. Broken right femur. Shattered both fibulas and broke my left tibia in three places. Broken patellas that were plated. Fractured cuboid. 3 broken toes, 2 on my right, 1 on my left. Surface injuries elsewhere. Deep lacerations from the glass and metal shards. 2 broken fingers. Fractured ulna.

It was the next day that I was told what had happened to the others. It took 45 minutes for the paramedics and police to get to us, and another 30 to get to the airfield. My cousin had a massive brain bleed and died before paramedics could get to us. The blood had congealed in his face and made him almost unrecognizable when my aunt came in to identify him. Closed casket funeral.

My brother, had such a severe concussion that they induced a coma, hoping he would heal while they helped as best they could. Over 40 broken bones. 9 operations. 2 additional operations just to try to help everything that his concussion had triggered. Overload of fluid. Near disconnect from his spinal cord.

I was expected to die within my first month in the hospital. Everyone was surprised I had survived. I lost over 70% of my blood that night. The injuries on my arms got infected several times. Some of my surgeries went horribly wrong, with unexpected bleeding and infected abscesses awaiting. I continued getting these infections, continued bleeding, continued losing weight and consciousness. But after a month, something changed. The bleeding just…stopped. The infections stopped. I healed, in an almost miraculous fashion.

I spent 5 more months in hospital, learning how to feed myself again, how to dress myself, how to walk. Extensive-sounding, isn’t it? Too much for most of my lower half having gotten the damage. But I had to wear a chest and back brace, that came up to cup my jaw. I learned how to work around it. I still have the scars from the screws put in place to help my ribs heal. I have scars on my legs from the surgeries to put in screws and plates. Only 2 of the scars from glass/metal shards on my arms. From the metal plate put into my jaw.

My brother did not surface from his coma. The overload of fluid continued, until my mother had to make the choice: bestow mercy upon him and allow him to pass. Eight months after the accident, I was wheeled into the funeral service for my brother. I had re-broken my ankle, and was still so weak from the weight lost in hospital that I couldn’t use crutches.

Looking back on it today, I have one piece of advice: always, always let the ones you love know that you love them. Because one day you will no longer have them.

I faced death once again almost two years ago. After having my daughter via emergency c-section, I developed sepsis (infection in the blood). Here I was, not a month past having this beautiful little girl, back in hospital, hooked up to machines that filtered my blood and pumped it back into me again. Intense antibiotics were given to me that made me unable to breastfeed. I felt like a failure.

The cycling treatment wasn’t working. I was supposed to spend three days in hospital hooked up to the machine, and otherwise would be fine. By the third day, the infected cells were still as high as they were when I came in. I was told that I might die, to set up an arrangement for my daughter to be taken care of. On the fourth day, as a nurse helped me to the washroom, I felt an intense tearing pain in my abdomen. She felt round and felt a lump.

I cannot describe the hope in her eyes. She urged me to sit on the toilet, and she would run and get my OBGYN. I cannot describe the determination of this woman. She ran all the way out into the parking lot in order to stop my OBGYN from leaving the building to go back to her office. She brought her upstairs to me and once again found the lump, urging my doctor to feel it.

That’s when everything clicked into place. I was rushed into surgery, where my c-section incision was partially re-opened and a large, black mass was pulled out of me. Think a 6″ at Subway size. Back on the cycle treatment. The next day, the infected cell count was 0. Another day of cycle treatment and antibiotics, and I’m sent home, once again able to breastfeed and take care of my daughter.

I had a hematoma attach to my abdominal wall, which ended just above my incision. A hematoma, for those that don’t know, is a mass of congealed blood (hence the black colour) that can develop anywhere in your body, and usually contains infected blood cells that are then destroyed by white blood cells and it naturally dissipates back into your body. Mine tore open, letting loose the infected blood cells, which kept coming out, and kept re-producing. Once the source was gone, the infection had nowhere to reproduce anymore.

Looking back on it today, always treat staff of any kind well. Remember their names. Talk to them. Be kind. They might just have the determination to go out of their way to save your life.

Always ensure you have a support system. You never know when something may happen.

Be at peace with everything you do. Make peace with enemies. Make sure you will not regret the last words you said to someone, or their words to you.

Always be saving for medical expenses. Having a cushion there can help you when your life is on the line.

Appreciate everything in life. Got cut off in traffic? That person really needs to get somewhere. Got your order screwed up? It’s ok, they have many things going on, be kind and patient. Made a mistake? It’ll be alright, we’re all human after all.

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