Written by Robert Carvalho

I grew up on a steady diet of science fiction. I have been interested in space as long as I can remember. I wish I could go into space myself someday, and I hope we will soon become a multi-planet species.

I’ve worked for NASA for 28 years. Since 2009, I’ve been involved in operating satellites and designing the operations of satellites. I was an operator for IRIS (Interface Region Imaging Spectrograph) from its launch in 2013 until 2020. I was an operator for STPSat-5 (Space Technology Program Satellite 5) for the length of the mission (2018–2019).

For both missions, I was responsible for real-time commanding and monitoring, preparing command sequences for unmonitored operations, and scheduling ground stations to communicate with the spacecraft as part of the operations team. On IRIS, I also had to train several new operators as the mission is still ongoing.

Our teams trained hard to prepare for these missions. Between the training and the long, sometimes odd hours of operations, operations teams can become very close.

For neither mission was there anything to see in the MOC (Mission Operations Center) of the science data that was being produced, unlike what most people envision when they think of space operations. It just looked like a small group of people working on computers.

The days spacecraft operators all hope for are routine: checking reports, preparing and uploading sequences. Even those are exciting to me: I get to work in space!

However, both missions experienced anomalies, when things did not go as planned. I had to respond to multiple anomalies on each mission. Some anomalies allowed us plenty of time to figure out what went wrong, devise a plan to solve it, and get things working again. Some anomalies we could not figure out what went wrong for sure, but we knew how to get things working again.

I’ve dealt with two anomalies that required a more urgent response. At one point, I was putting together a command sequence to recover the spacecraft with very little time to spare. I felt quite a bit of pressure as the team was standing around me, waiting for me to complete it in time for the command pass coming up in a few minutes.

For me, operating spacecraft is a very rewarding job. I’m doing work in a field that I love, and I have to deal with situations that challenge me to think quickly and carefully.
 — 
Robert Carvalho is an Engineer at NASA’s Ames Research Center in California, and is hoping to see humans leave low Earth orbit in his lifetime. He is currently designing operations for NASA’s Volatiles Investigating Polar Exploration Rover (VIPER).

Originally published at https://what-its-like-to.com/operate-a-satellite/

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What It’s Like to Operate a Satellite was originally published in What It’s Like to on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Written by Anonymous

In the mid-80s the banking crisis hit Oklahoma. The bank I worked at in Tulsa was the first to fail.

Word got out and a run started. I was I was sent (with our security guard) to pick up cash from another bank to meet demand. That’s how I ended up with $1,000,000 in the trunk of my ’69 Nova.

A few months later I started working for the quasi-government agency tasked with overseeing national banks — the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation. It had its hands full for the next few years.

Most of my time was spent incorporating failed bank assets into the FDIC systems. Once or twice a month we went to a failing bank to close it. By the time we got to that point, the “assuming bank” was already lined up to purchase it. We would go in and do what auditors normally would take weeks or months to do, only we did it in three days.

In one two-week period with back-to-back closings, I accumulated over 80 hours of overtime. Another time I got a call at home late afternoon on a Thursday asking me to fly to Dallas that night to help with a large closing there.

Closings were scheduled to start on Thursday afternoons when the bank closed for the day. The first person into the bank was the closing manager, whose job was to let the bank manager know what was about to happen. The second was the locksmith, who immediately changed the locks on all outer doors.

After the bank and closing managers announced to employees what was going on, the rest of us started unloading the truck full of copiers, boxes of paper, and “portable” computers — which in those days were the size of a suitcase.

Several things happened at once. One priority was to count all cash. Tellers were required to stay at their windows until an FDIC employee had counted and balanced their till. Another went to count the cash in the vault. Obviously the employees were worried about what was happening. Having been through it myself, I was able to empathize.

Other FDIC employees took over loan department files to start grading the loans. “Safe” loans were documented to hand over to the assuming bank. Any “iffy” loans would be taken over by the FDIC and processed into its system. In a few small town banks we found that some loan officers had blank IOU pads in their desks. If the customer didn’t qualify for a bank loan, the officers would loan the money themselves.

One or two FDIC employees would start locating the bank’s assets. At one bank some were found in the bank president’s garage.

Many times it was a small town’s only bank. We couldn’t just reserve rooms for 25–50 FDIC employees in the local hotel. Word could leak out and cause a run on the bank before we ever got there. So hotel reservations were always made with an alias; many times we were with the “Southwest Builders Association”. I happened to return to the hotel on one closing to hear the operations officer explaining that she needed to change the charges on the rooms over to the FDIC account. The poor clerk looked like he thought he was on Candid Camera.

After several 12- to 16-hour days, we would wrap up and be out of the bank by the end of the weekend. Monday morning the bank would reopen at its usual time, with the same employees, but under a new name.
 — 
The author has worked for other federal and local governments since. He is now retired and hoping to be able to travel internationally again soon.

Originally published at https://what-its-like-to.com/close-a-bank/

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What It’s Like to Close a Bank was originally published in What It’s Like to on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Written by Robert Carvalho

My wife and I have two children. Our first is biological.

However, my wife had complications in the pregnancy that meant she didn’t want to go through it again. We did want another child. I have a couple of cousins who were adopted, so we looked into adoption.

There are several different ways to go. We chose to work with our county’s social services and do a foster-adoption. We first had to be trained and certified as foster parents, including home inspection. We were then assigned a social worker who would advocate for us. We put together a little scrapbook for our social worker with pictures of us, our first child, and our home.

When children come into the foster system, they are also assigned a social worker. That social worker then meets with the social workers of the parents who are willing to work with a child in that category (age, gender, foster only or foster-adopt). After we were foster approved, we waited for several months before being selected at one of these meetings. When foster parents are called with the details, they are given the option to accept or decline.

When we got our call, we said “Yes!” right away.

We got to meet our second child as an infant still in the hospital, when he was one day old. His teen-aged birth mother had arranged with the social workers there to put him into the foster system, as she wanted him to have a better life than she could provide.

When he was ready to leave the hospital, we brought him home. From then, his social worker made regular visits with us to see how he was doing, and to notify us of the progress of our case. She was actually the one who told us about September 11th as it was happening, as we were home with the kids and weren’t listening to the news. We had to get her permission to take him out of state to visit family.

Though the birth mother signed over her parental rights at the hospital, the county still had to follow the procedures to get that legally recognized, and to terminate the parental rights of the birth father. The county tried several ways to contact him, but he never responded. This process took nearly a year.

At the time, the guideline for foster-adopting an infant (under 2) was supposed to be six months. Sometimes we felt like our case was so straightforward, it was not the most urgent case for his social worker. All birth parental rights were terminated when our son was 11 months old. Shortly after his first birthday, we finally received our court date for adoption. We met with the judge in chambers, and the papers were signed. His birth certificate was revised so that our names are on there.

I have had friends who also did foster-adoption, and their road was not as smooth as ours. They had to return the first child to the birth parents before eventually adopting from their second placement. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle that steep of an emotional roller-coaster.

Our son has been with us since he came home from the hospital. We don’t think of him as any different from our biological child in worth or relationship. He looks more like me than our biological child does. We feel very blessed to have him as our child.
 — 
Robert Carvalho is a father and family person in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Originally published at https://what-its-like-to.com/adopt-a-child/

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What It’s Like To Adopt a Child was originally published in What It’s Like to on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Written by Steve

February 8–9, 2017, we had a 12-inch snowstorm, and I was out with the snowblower for 3–4 hours when I began to feel like I couldn’t catch my breath. Knowing something was very wrong I asked my daughter to call 911.

Paramedics arrived quickly and determined I was going to the hospital, which is generally a 10–15-minute trip. Mid-way they decided I had to be shocked — cardioverted — as I was experiencing Ventricular Tachycardia. I could see on the monitor my heart rate was at 200+.

They pulled the ambulance over, I heard “Clear” and saw on the monitor a heart rate of 222. The shock was indescribable. Not so much painful as jolting or shocking, no pun intended. It felt as though I had lifted off the gurney 6 inches, and I had a passing thought that my toenails were going to shoot through the back of the ambulance.

Immediately I saw the heart rate drop to 70 on the monitor, and commented to the paramedic that I felt much better and asked if we could go home. That was a hard “No.” I wasn’t surprised.

In the Emergency Room the doctors and nurses seemed intrigued by the fact I remained awake and alert, but I didn’t get the impression my situation was all that rare, just maybe a bit out of the ordinary.

The next day a stent was placed due to a 95 percent blockage. I already had two from previous heart issues, but this problem was much deeper. Two days later an Implantable Cardioverter-Defibrillator (ICD) was implanted in my chest to protect against Arrhythmia, which occurs when the electrical impulses that coordinate your heartbeats don’t work properly.

Funny sidenote…The procedure went extra-long (approximately 4 hours, vs the expected 2) as they were having problems with one of the leads not working properly, and were on the phone with Tech Support (I believe Support was in Israel, but don’t quote me as I was a bit out of it). Seems there was a shipment of bad leads sent out, and with serial numbers they were able to identify the bad ones.

A few days later, as I was dressing to finally leave the hospital, the ICD fired up due to another arrhythmia. I was awake for that too. The ICD performed as designed.

Restrictions such as no driving for three months (understandable) made the recovery tedious, but recover I did. One restriction that I must keep in mind is I cannot permit hand-scanning at airports as the scanning unit might trigger the ICD. That hasn’t been an issue at airports in the USA, but while in foreign countries explaining the problem can get dicey. The automated scanners do not run the risk.

Ultimately there was one more arrhythmia six months later, and that occurred when I was sitting at the kitchen table reading. There was no activity or stress that elevated the heart rate. An arrhythmia simply happened that triggered the ICD, and soon after a cardiac ablation procedure was performed to correct the electrical signal issues. I have been arrhythmia-free since (knock on wood).

Device battery life was projected to be about 9 years, and that seems to be on track as recent device interrogations project another 5.5 years. Yes, batteries were included in the package. When the batteries are going bad the device will have to be replaced, and I am sure that will be fun.

Still today, whenever I hear “Clear” on medical shows I do flinch and look away.

—
Steve has been retired for a bit more than a year, and is still doing home improvements, gardening, biking, daily gym workouts, and other assorted physical endeavors because he still can!

Originally published at https://what-its-like-to.com/be-paddled/

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What It’s Like to Be Paddled was originally published in What It’s Like to on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Written by Dr. P

South Africa is a country with big problems: a shaky democracy, a factioned ruling party, corrupt government officials, racial tensions, widespread poverty, a lack of education, and a lack of economic opportunities.

On July 7, 2021, Jacob Zuma, our ex-president, implicated in state capture, graft and corruption, started his jail sentence for contempt of court. Rumors surfaced that a violent national campaign to free him was being planned on WhatsApp.

On July 9 all hell broke loose: major highways were blocked and trucks carrying vital supplies were looted or set alight. On July 12 looting started, trashing and burning shopping centers and shops. Due to the scale of the action, police and private security firms were overwhelmed and helpless to stop the mayhem.

I was at work on Monday when the Community Policing Forum called for local residents to assist in safeguarding our local shopping center. After work I drove there and offered my help, but there were enough volunteers. I had very little sleep, with people running and shouting in the street, gunshots ringing out, police and ambulance sirens.

I reported for guard duty on Tuesday 4:00 p.m. It was heartbreaking to see the parking area devoid of cars and people, fenced with barbed wire and all the roads secured by sentries and barricades. It reminded me of street scenes in war movies. I was one of the few volunteers with a firearm. Most people from our suburb came with sticks, batons, golf clubs, sports bats, machetes and the determination to stand firm against any attackers, even should the looters be armed with firearms.

I was asked to join a group of four young people guarding the west entrance of the complex. They were apprehensive, but determined to fight back with everything they had. Four ordinary citizens, three worried about their wives and children at home, armed with sticks, bats, and four Molotov cocktails, waiting in the cold night for a mob rumored to be hundreds strong.

Being older, the yoke of leadership shifted to me. I’ll never forget the look of relief on their faces when I told them I had a firearm, and I thought to myself: what could one handgun accomplish in a situation like this? There I was, a medical practitioner under the Hippocratic oath that holds life to be sacred, realizing that I might have to kill fellow human beings to protect myself, my fellow defenders and the right of my community to have access to food and medicine….

I was supposed to stand watch until 10:00 p.m. At 9:00 p.m. a rumor came through that there were plans to bomb the shopping center. Instead of people leaving, more volunteers arrived, most congregating some way off so that they could repel looters after a bombing. I was relieved after midnight, when more volunteers arrived.

The next morning there was a long queue. I will never forget the sight of grown men and women crying as they walked away dejected, with empty hands as the shop closed due to empty shelves. The following day there was a very long queue, but eventually everybody had shopped. By the fourth day, we stood down as the situation improved.

It is not all sad though: this brought the community together like never before. For once, religion, race and social standing meant nothing as people worked towards one common goal.

There is much more to tell, like the community gathering to sing hymns, people coming to the center to pray for our safety, community members bringing food and beverages. But the first night was the scariest.

—
Dr P is almost 60 years old, a practicing Anesthesiologist for the past 23 years, Jack of all trades and master of none that has played with computers, open source software, solar power, Cuckoo and grandfather clock repair, motorcycling, radio controlled aircraft, airguns and carpentry.

Originally published at https://what-its-like-to.com/guard-looting/

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What It’s Like to Guard Against a Looting Spree was originally published in What It’s Like to on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Written by Mat Dewitt

I have been driving professionally for over 50 years, all in heavy equipment, mainly over-the-road big rigs from driving solo or part of a team driving with my wife. I have driven 4 to 5 million miles, putting in 60–70 hours per week. And it has been an incredible experience and lifestyle.

Over the years, there have been many improvements to the trucks. They went from hot and rough-riding with two transmissions that I had to shift constantly, to today’s wonderfully smooth-riding trucks with comfortable sleeper cabs and automated transmissions.

Even though the trucks have improved, the one constant has definitely been the many terrible roads. It doesn’t matter how smooth-riding a rig can be; if the roads are awful, then it’s a bumpy drive all the way.

I have seen the most impressive sights many dream about. The most gorgeous sunsets and sunrises imaginable, in all parts of the country. There are such unique and spectacular sceneries the U.S. and Canada have to offer. From the east coast to the west coast, and everything in between. From the flat deserts, the prairie lushness in summer, to the western mountains, and the challenges of getting a heavy truck up and over them safely.

The weather is enough to make some people cringe at times; I have experienced some of the nastiest storms and taken the big rig through killer winter blizzards. But I have also been fortunate enough to experience the most perfect weather, with the sun shining above, allowing me to take in the views the road has to offer.

The roads also vary from time to time. First, I can be driving down a wide-open deserted road. Next time, I’m stuck in a traffic jam that boggles the imagination, especially when trying to maneuver 75 feet of tractor-trailer through them.

Driving through a traffic jam is sometimes like playing dodge ball, maneuvering in and out of traffic to avoid cars. Sometimes you meet the nicest and most respectable car drivers, but other times, you meet the ones that like to cut you off and think an 80,000 lb truck can stop on a dime. That can be a rude awakening.

Two qualities a great truck driver must have: parking skills and patience. Parking skills, because trying to deliver in big cities while maneuvering around traffic is an art form. You are sometimes trying to put a 53-foot trailer into a space designed for half that length. Patience because there are days you have to wait 4–10 hours (unpaid) to load or unload.

Drivers need to deal with shippers, receivers, and heavy traffic. It’s also essential to have good intuition to figure out what other people on the road will do before doing it. I am constantly trying to avoid some of the dangerous stunts some car drivers pull around big rigs.

However, getting out of the city and back onto the open road is sheer joy, and I have my freedom again.

And like any job, there are both pros and cons to driving. Sometimes I get bored seeing the same interstate over and over again. It can also be frustrating driving past places I so desperately want to explore but cannot because the load must be delivered on time, and like clockwork, the next one is waiting for me. But all of that is offset by my passion for driving and safely getting across the country once again.

This is a lifestyle, and to me, the pros far outweigh the cons, and it is for a good reason that I am still doing it!
 — 
Mat DeWitt has been driving heavy trucks for over 50 years, running all 49 continental U.S. states and 5 Canadian provinces.

Originally published at https://what-its-like-to.com/drive-big-truck/

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What It’s Like to Drive a Big Rig Truck was originally published in What It’s Like to on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Written by Michael Astbury

In 1991 my employer, the largest telecommunications company in the U.K., came to an agreement with the University of London to run a new type of Master of Science degree specifically for the company’s employees. All lectures and tutorials would take place at the company’s facility in East Anglia. I was amongst the first batch of students to graduate.

There were 30 of us and a special graduation ceremony was arranged just for us. The degrees were given by HRH Princess Anne, the Princess Royal, only daughter of Queen Elizabeth II. There is a strict protocol to be observed when meeting a member of the Royal Family. For example: do not touch them when you speak, do not approach them, let them approach you, do not interrupt them and so on. We were briefed on all this beforehand.

I later learned that the course organisers and lecturers had a separate briefing in which Princess Anne herself, told them not to try to speak to her because she wanted to converse with every graduate, not members of staff.

When the ceremony started the Princess was introduced to us and stood centre stage. In front of her was a stool with raised handles on each side. After the speeches by representatives from the university and the company, each graduate was called up by name. We had to kneel on the stool and then, instead of being given a rolled-up certificate, we each had our hood placed over our shoulders by Princess Anne. Because my surname begins with the letter A, I was the first to be presented.

Having placed my hood she spent a short time asking me how the course had gone, did it take up a lot my time over the three years of study, and how I had coped with a return to studying — I was obviously the oldest of the students graduating.

When the ceremony was over we all retired to a hall for a finger buffet, whilst Princess Anne circulated and spoke to every graduate. I was accompanied by my wife and my parents as my guests. Anne came and spoke to us all for almost ten minutes. She asked about where we lived, our children, my work and other subjects. She gave the appearance of being really interested in what we said.

She surprised me with her knowledge. For example she asked my parents where they lived, and they replied naming a small village on the outskirts of Manchester, North West England. She immediately replied, “You will be under the flight path for Manchester Airport.” To have heard of their village was surprising, to know how it related to the airport was amazing. She is clearly sharp and knowledgeable.

My wife had for a few years volunteered with a charity called Riding For The Disabled, of which Princess Anne is the President. This opened another area of discussion, and she had many questions about my wife’s experience with that.

She was easy to talk to and showed a real interest in us and what we had done. I must say I was greatly impressed by her.
 — 
Michael Astbury is retired after 42 years in the telecommunication industry. He now volunteers at Tools With A Mission, a British charity recycling tools to provide livelihood creation in Africa.

Originally published at https://what-its-like-to.com/meet-royal-family/

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What It’s Like to Meet a Member of the British Royal Family was originally published in What It’s Like to on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

You don’t want to call 911 but you have to. The first voice you hear is the 911 operator who asks you what the location of your emergency is. But you are freaking out and start yelling and screaming that you need help now. The fastest way to get help is to listen, give quick answers to our questions, and don’t hang up until we tell you.

People usually think of first responders as the police officer, medic or fireman who shows up in person when you call for help. But the people behind 911 are really the first responders and will help guide you through what may be the worst day of your life.

Everybody reacts to an unexpected situation differently, and most people will never have to call 911 in their lifetime. When you do have to call 911 be ready to provide the location/address of the emergency, and a phone number that you may be reached at. No matter what those two pieces of information are vital to getting you the assistance you need.

A lot of 911 centers in the U.S., and around the world (though the phone number may vary), use a set of protocols to determine the type of response that should be sent for medical emergencies. Protocols also exist for police and fire emergencies, but the medical protocols are most commonly used.

When going through the questions it may seem like we aren’t really helping but, in most cases, someone has already dispatched medical personnel to assist you. The questions are designed to get to the root of the problem and make sure that the right resources are sent to you.

We have people yell and cuss at us on a regular basis, but we will always strive to maintain our composure and be professional while handling your call. We may go outside and yell and scream to the sky after a call like that, but you are only going to hear calm, cool and collected.

Being a 911 operator, or telecommunicator as we are sometimes referred to as, is not simply a job. The hours are long and the stress level is through the roof. But it is rewarding, frustrating and infuriating all at the same time.

You see a side of people that nobody else likely will. On the worst day of their lives you will be there to comfort and help them. On the calls where you help deliver a baby there will be high fives all around, and the mood in the communications center will be upbeat.

In the blink of an eye the next call could be a cardiac arrest, and someone may need guidance to give their loved one CPR. Or it could be the wife who just discovered her husband who is deceased and is already cold and stiff.

From elation to sorrow, the mood can swing in seconds. You never know what the next call that you answer will bring. PTSD in emergency communication centers is very real. Being a 911 operator is not for everyone, and the amount of training required can be daunting.

The accolades are few and far between, and you may be working in a darkened location without windows for 12 hours at a time. It will feel like you spend more time with your co-workers than your family. The highs from the good calls may be quickly offset by the lows of a bad call.

—
David Martin is a programmer, 911 telecommunicator, and long-time computer person trying his hand at writing for public consumption.

Originally published at https://what-its-like-to.com/911-operator/

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What It’s Like to Be a 911 Operator was originally published in What It’s Like to on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Written by Nikki Koon

I thoroughly enjoy when someone asks how I met my husband. I can generally predict how the discussion will go. Once I share that we met online, the typical questions come in about which dating site we used.

But I didn’t meet my husband on a dating site. We met in an online game.

Specifically, we met playing EverQuest. EverQuest is a game known as an MMORPG, or Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game. It launched in 1999, and at its height it had over half a million active players.

If you’ve never played an online multi-player game, it’s an experience. You are dropped into a virtual world and left to interact with the environment and creatures. It’s an immersive experience. The world has its own economy, with people buying and selling both goods and services. You can find someone to sell you food, or to help transport you halfway across the continent. These games can be played largely alone (known as soloing), but the idea behind a multi-player game is to interact with the people around you. The process creates the usual contingent of casual acquaintances and close friends. And occasionally, it creates long term relationships.

You can get to know someone in an online game extremely well. You see them when they are bored, excited, and stressed. You travel together across this virtual world, and your trips are often interrupted by random interactions with both players and creatures from the game. They are frequently hostile interactions, and you find out how well your group of friends works together. You plan excursions into caverns to track down more powerful creatures, giving you a chance to see how you do when you are both stressed. These encounters often end in death, and you deal together with frustration when one or all of you die, and coordinate to get all your stuff back that was left behind. Because the game has quite a bit of downtime, you have all sorts of discussions.

By the time I met my husband in person, I knew about his job, his family, and his interests. We had discussed relationship history and general life philosophy. We already had something in common because we spent our leisure time playing the same game. We literally spent hours together in a virtual world interacting with one another and others around us. I probably knew him better than many of my friends that I had met in real life. He wasn’t the first person from this world that I’d met in person, though he was the first romantic interest.

Of course, eventually we had to meet to find out if we were compatible in person. Our first meeting was a resounding success, and we started dating shortly thereafter. As it turned out, real life was much less exciting than our virtual world, and we spent a lot less time fighting hostile creatures. But we also discovered we were the same people in person that we were online, and that we were equally good at working together. We dated for 5 years, and have been married for 13. And we still play multi-player games together online.
 — 
Nikki Koon has been a software developer for 15+ years. She lives in Phoenix, Arizona with her family and enjoys playing computer games and crocheting in her spare time.

Originally published at https://what-its-like-to.com/meet-online/

To Tell Your Own WiLt story, see the Submission Guidelines.

What It’s Like to Meet Your Husband Online was originally published in What It’s Like to on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.