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Cleaning up Blood

-Jennifer Carron is a transgendered woman of 12 years. She is a Critical Incident and Immediate Intervention Counselor. She specializes in short term, focused interventions and obstacle planning for the transgendered, as well as conflict management and victimization risk assessment.

Cleaning up Blood

we are not alone

Is a very curious thing to think about the idea of cleaning up blood. We've all done it, its happened in some for or another for any person on this planet.

Why is this so common? Because we all have it. Blood.

And it pours for many reasons for sustenance, for life, firstly, for giving, secondly, for accidental reasons, and finally, on purpose.

But lets take a global look on the history of us, a race. Not divided my genders, nor preferences, nor distinctions and hierarchy. We all bleed.

Why does this most basic ability resonate so much? When we bleed, we try to keep as much as it in. This lifeforce, that is just water and chemicals, why does it touch us so much.

I did a study on this in area as part of my phd. The BC Ambulance Service took me for a few rides, the Vancouver Police Department took me for a walk on their downtown east side, the place where the most downtrodden of humanity, the substance addicted and mentally ill try to sort out some type of existence.

And their story is no different from anyone elses.

There is one simple explanation, we have three reactings to blood, disgusted, happy, and routine... routine for those that see it on a regular day.

Allow me to explain to you that this is traumatic stuff. I apologize for the seriousness of my words, but its a look at real life, and there are lesssons to be learned.

My first shift out of BC EHS hall, downtown eastside started at 6pm, and we were going all night. Our first call was for 'Angela'. A homeless 42 year old woman from California that, through some very unfortunate circumstances, found her place in Vancouver, herion addicted and missing her daughter in California. She has no idea where in California her daughter lives now, and tonight, Angela is high and twitchy.

We check her out, and assess her as no need for hospitalization. She's just on her normal high tonight. So we leave her.

Forward two nights later with the Vancouver Police Department. Walking with the downtown east side foot beat.

Angela is found just after 11pm, bleeding out in an alley after cutting herself in a fit of rage, something that I have done before, so it becomes personal. The Ambulance crew has just taken her away as we arrive. All that's left is her blood. The fire crews are washing it down the drain with a garden size hoze. I think to myself, just the other night, I talked to her. An unknown male walks past me and says 'that's a shame, I sleep there'. And he lit a candle, from some unseen pocket that had been tucked away for who knows how long, and curled up on the corner while the fire truck still had its scene lights blazing, and feel to sleep.

I was blown away, but there are good things in life. A place that somehold holds as a comfortable place.

Nothing is really over until blood is spilled, in some form or another. Sometimes, that can be simple as tears, but I never want to overlook ther seriousness of how anyone, no matter gender, affilication, or affiliation applies to their own life.

There is a moment when a lot of people realize that they cannot wait much longer. Most don't give up that easily, they still hold hold onto some misunderstanding in their life that they want to figure out. To figure out things. A souvenir, sometimes, as they like to refer to it.

Sometimes we are the only one for someone, and they reach out you to you. Sometimes its in a little way, checking how you are doing. Asking how your day is, that means the world to them. I ask you, from my heart, to reach out to those people, do not ignore anyone in your life, because they are people, they bleed in different ways. We all bleed in different ways.

 

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