So Far So Good

I can hardly believe it's been almost a month since my last blog entry. I see men around me starting to grow their mustaches for March and I realize time is pressing forward.

A few weeks ago life got considerably better. I'm now in a room that used to be a Col's single room. I share it with my most awesome previous roommate from the room I left, Amanda. For now we are 2 peas in a pod, but our 3rd roommate gets in soon. It's funny to hear myself say "Hey Manda... are you there?" when I get home. People ask me "So how is Amanda?" and now I'm like "Me, or Amanda?" My bed is set up as my cave, with Christmas lights inside. It's heavenly and I am much much happier in this space.

The other day I was coming back from the gym wearing shorts and I was carrying my magazine, a water bottle, my nano, and my ID carrier/"wallet". I was fumbling to wrap my earpiece chords around my nano to consolidate my stuff when an Army Col walked by me and I only saw his rank as he was about to pass me. It was too late to salute so I gave a big head bob and made eye contact to acknowledge him. He turns to me, stops walking and says "Excuse me but WHAT are you supposed to do??" I shifted my stuff to the left and I said, "Salute you sir" then I saluted the douche bag. I felt like saying "If I could f**king carry a bag on this base all my sh*t would have been in a bag and I would have easily saluted you." I think the officer Army rank needs to remain on the collar anyway - it's too hard to spot in their uniform pattern and it blends into the middle of the chest. That kinda crap always leaves me with a "f**k the military" attitude. I never want to be that guy. Do you know how many people don't salute me? It's because people walk everywhere and there are too many people walking by to pay attention to and I realize that. Plus this is a war zone - why are we saluting here anyway???

Work-wise things have picked up. Inpatient care is basically the same, but I've been seeing a few more individual appointments. I've also met the new Army RD here and we are putting our heads together for National Nutrition Month. Some of the FOBs have requested education so I'm setting that up and today I counseled some guys at COP Michegan on the Pakistani boarder in the Korengal valley. That is one of the most dangerous places in this war. There was a movie made about it that we watched in Nut Med a few weeks ago - Restrepo. http://documentaries.about.com/od/revie2/fr/Restrepo_movie_review.htm I wished them well and told them it was an honor to be of service to them. I update FB a ton so maybe none of this is news to my millions of readers. :)  I also was able to go to the Egyptian hospital to help teach their RN staff how to administer bolus tube feedings; there is a bit more to it but somehow it doesn't feel right to blog about the details. Pretty neat experience. The picture I posted online is of an Afghani girl who shook our hands as we walked into the hospital. She just never let go of mine and stood with me for about 10 minutes. When we left she found me outside and tugged at my arm and asked me for money quite forcefully. That left me with very mixed emotions as I left. That was definitely a pinch-myself kind of moment... like, am I really here right now? How did I end up here? Is this my life? Sometimes I can't believe this is my life.

I feel very grateful for my family and friends who have sent me care packages and cards... it means a lot to me. Vegan baked goods make me very happy!  I'm still keeping up my Veg DPG newsletter responsibilities and I'm trying to gather up AD vegans to write a little article about being deployed as a vegetarian. There are plenty of us here. I'll get that done eventually. There has been some talk of force-shaping for officers... I'm not worried about getting booted but it has led me to re-shift focus on school. So back I go to the goal of finishing my masters degree while here. I may have to hold off on my last class until I get home... we'll see how motivated I am. I've met some great people here and I'm having fun. There are days I want to run away, but in some ways, I can't believe how much I am enjoying myself. I have my core crew, and a standard lunch and dinner date that keeps me smiling. I'm very lucky to have built these relationships in Afghanistan. :)

BAF is like a box of chocolates…

Hi Ya’ll.

Thankfully, since my last entry my emotional health has stabilized. No more quivering lower lip in ICU rounds, and the site of an amputee does not immediately move me to tears.  I am still pissed off that these guys have lost their limbs, but I’m getting used to my new “normal”…which includes seeing things like that.

There is one “normal” life factor here that I just can’t accept. I’ve been here since 25 Dec, and I’m still in my “temporary” room. The bhut I had been promised, was given to someone else deemed more of a priority. :0( People who came after me, and all those who came with me, have their permanent space already.  I’m still in a crowded room where I’m the “extra” gal, not a great feeling.  A bonus irritation (above dealing with the lack of basic storage and space needs) is dealing with an “unfortunate” roommate at my feet. She believes it’s perfectly fine to Skype loudly at 0700 on my day off like she’s outside screaming to a friend down the street. She plays online in bed throughout the entire night with a bright bed lamp on. Unnecessary… hello, computers provide light! She even leaves the light on when she leaves the room, because she’s apparently more important than anyone else in the room sleeping.  I just keep repeating to myself she must be a social moron and instead of anger, I should feel pity. But… anger is more instinctual. :-)

This “unfortunate” irritant did give me the ‘oomph’ I needed to go straight to my new Squadron Commander with this issue. I’ve reached my all-time whiney high here in an effort to get 4-5 square feet of space to call my own… to unpack…and to have what everyone else already has! I dreamed of going off in a Squadron meeting that my only issue was that I want a f*&king room!! My commander was cool; she heard me out, and it looks like I’ll be set in a week or so. Even knowing a date helps.

The positive side of being in this space nearly a month is that I met another Amanda who understands things like unfortunate people, trolls, cat-fish, dogs, and micro-pigs. I’m hoping I can take her with me when I move. 

My Air Command and Staff College stuff came in the mail. It’s going to be harder than I had anticipated to focus on getting that sucker done. The ACSC intro book says it takes an estimated 10.5 months to finish it. In some ways I have more time here than at home, in others I don’t. I don’t have much mental focus power for stuff like that at the moment. 01 Feb is my “get it together” date I’ve made up in my head. So I hope to start by then. 

This week in ICU rounds Afghani physicians are rounding with our multidisciplinary team. It was interesting to see them watch us. The patients we rounded on with them were local nationals; they were only allowed to see one American. The Chief Internist showed them our most recent amputee, a Marine, who lost one leg. He described the patient, and then pointed out that this type of injury is the consequence of more American troops on the ground with the IEDs. He mentioned that this Marine was actually lucky because he had one leg left, because often they are both gone. As I stood there I thought, “This is a surreal moment, and I’m glad I’m here.” This war has long lasting consequences for countless individuals. :0/

As a side comment…overall, the Afghans are short and small! Many of the men are shorter than me. I don’t know what I was expecting. The Cordova cleaning staff (think J&J at David Grant Medical Center) are local nationals. They are fun… they try to teach me Dari each day. I try to learn… I have a cheat sheet posted in my office. I say “salaam” every morning. I’m sure they think I’m a big dork. :0) They would be correct.

Maybe it’s too early, but I’ve already picked out my coming home theme song! It’s by Puffy Combs, P Diddy, Puff Daddy…whatever. I’m not 100% on the name but the chorus includes the line “I’m coming home.”  It’s not about returning home literally; it’s about returning to the mother of his kids and starting a home life. But music is more than words; I like the overall feeling the song gives me. “I’m coming home, I’m coming home, tell the world that I’m coming home, let the rain, wash away, all the pain, of yesterday, and my kingdom awaits, dah dah dah something… I’m coming home, I’m coming home… tell the world that I’m coming… home.”

:o)

A Challenging 24 Hours

Last night we had the third IDF attack since I've been here. This is the first one I really was nervous about because it was so close to the dorms. I came "home" from work at 9pm and I managed to miss the BOOM because I headed into my room, changed and b-lined to the bathroom to brush my teeth, etc. Then the girls coming into the bathroom said, "Did you hear that!!??". I hadn't. Then bang, bang, bang, down all the hallway doors. Everyone needed to get into their flak vests and helmets (IBA/Individual Body Armor). Do I have my dog tags on or my IBA available??? NOOOOOOOO. Bad Sagey!! So, because some of the girls in my room work nights, I borrowed someone else's IBA who was at work. I felt guilty, but what's a girl under mortar attack to do? Once things calmed down and we reported to the hospital for accountability I brought the IBA to the ICU to give back to the girl and wore my IBA home. I had left my IBA at work because I needed it for a brief earlier this week, and, there is no room for me in my room. :0/ Next week I move into a bhut and can finally get settled! Although after last night I'm more nervous about going into one. But I figure, what will be will be, it's out of my hands.

Today was going to be my "rest" day but it still ended up being a 12 hr day. I did break away to work out during the day, which was great. I felt all empowered as I ran on the treadmill listening to my Nicki Minaj and Beyonce :)  However...when I came home to shower, I remembered why the dorms can suck. The room I'm in is dark 24/7 because of the mix of day and night time sleepers.To get ready to shower I turned on a bed-clamp light by the door (where all my stuff is, and by the way this is the light I was asked to use by one of my roommates). This irritated one of my roomies....she's nice, but I irritated her I guess.  She told me to not use that light because I was interrupting her sleep. Well well!!  I usually use a flashlight, but guess what, I can't see well with it and have to hold it in my mouth to see all I need to see. I'm still living out of suitcases in the corner by the door. Cut me some slack!!!  There is a girl on days in my room who wakes up and goes online during the night and turns on a light but I don't say anything b/c WTF, it's not worth it. So this moment of being told to not turn on a light so I can do necessary things like shower, got way under my skin. You know that when there is anger though, under that is usually some sadness. It was a major FML moment for me today.

That set me up for the next emotional trigger... another ICU consultation. I did not anticipate being so emotionally impacted by what I see here. I thought I'd be better at compartmentalizing it. Today several more Marines came in injured. One of them lost one leg, most of another, and part of his right arm. I went in to measure his "height" so I can give a tube feeding recommendation and I felt the tears coming. I really really really really really really really tried to not cry. I went back to the office to meet with the techs for a meeting and they saw it on my face. I got a hug, and permission to go in their office and cry. So I did.

Today was our first full "C3" band day. All of C3 is here, and the last C2'er left. We said goodbye to her today and wish her well!

I think I may have shared too much, but I guess that's the point.