Thursday, December 24, 2009

Happily Ever After*

(*Please allow 90 to 120 days for the "Happily" part to kick in before calling to check on the status of your order. No refunds.)

This will probably be my last post, if not one of them. The "Isosceles Triangle" is now only a couple of miles on each side, and only during the day when Autumn and/or I are at work! I think OIT was a great idea and Autumn and I have given serious thought to a few suggestions that we should make a book out of it for posterity. Hopefully we figure out a good way to archive it so it does not fall into the pit of time, and if we do it right, we can probably open it up and read it from time to time.

I have tried to keep what I share happy and positive, not to create some sort of rosy illusion, but because most of my posts would look like this if I didn't:

"I came off another self-imposed 16 hour day today and had a terrible workout. I tried to call Autumn but no one around the phone knew where she was, and I didn't bother leaving a message I knew wouldn't get to her in a reasonable amount of time. I guess it's just another Monday. The network change we have been planning for two weeks seemed to work at first, but ended up failing sometime after I left. The redundant link stayed up, but I do not know what to try next, so I guess it's time to prepare for a few days of frustrating and embarrassing briefings while we beat our heads against the wall thinking. It sure would have been nice to be able to take an engineering-level class on this equipment, but what did I expect when we did not know the mission we trained for was not the mission we would end up doing? Only six more days until my next down day, large pizza, and sleep sweet sleep."


A couple of those posts and we might as well shade the Isosceles Triangle a nice, creamed-pinto-bean beige to represent the feelings of frustration, apathy, and regret. No, I thought it best to take the gems from the year, dust them off, and share them with everyone so the interesting parts of life are immortalized and the daily drudge fades.

So, I'm not going to sift through and find the "things worth remembering" in this post. It is not because I am not so far away or because there is nothing interesting to tell, but here at the end of the journey, I find that the interesting parts contain a measure of frustration, apathy, regret, and even pain. Omitting this would make my contributions a pleasantly incomplete story, and that is something I might regret when I read this on the eve of my next deployment. Epilogues aren't always the neat little bow on the outside of a wrapped present, right?

So what have I been doing and what has happened to me since I last posted?

I made it back from where I came. Redeployment was everything the experienced guys told us it would be, though there is no way to fully articulate just how excruciatingly slow everything moves when you are trying to leave. Someone, somewhere, at some time in the past has done every self-destructive thing imaginable during redeployment, so there is a briefing, pamphlet, form, or counseling session to cover the Army's butt on it. We sat through briefings where we were told to be careful what ATM we use to withdraw money, don't drink excessively, be patient when you reintegrate with your friends and family - all reasonable so far. However, we were also shotgunned through anti-suicide briefings, at least 4 that included the speaker saying he/she was pleased to be the one to inform us we have benefits under the VA as combat veterans now, and a briefing to synchronize us filling out our travel vouchers (Government version of a commercial expense report for business travel) which ended up being reconvened two more times. I can say it was at least not as bad as mobilizing on the front end of the deployment, where we were "trained" in automatic weapons fired from moving vehicles and how to speak Arabic. I am sure if you are reading this you also read Autumn's account of how she orchestrated a trip for her, Matt, and a bunch of my friends to come to my welcome home ceremony - that was something I did not expect and that no one told me would happen ... !









I got a tattoo. My brother, Charles, and I had been talking about it for a long time, and we decided to get the same tattoo in the same place - a cool design from a Japanese cartoon on the top left of the chest. I don't know if I would have had any more or less inhibition had I not just come back from deployment, but certainly not being able to fulfill our plans while I was away made it all the more satisfying when we finally got it done. Two months after getting it, I can still say I like it, so at least I'm not looking up laser removal clinics. The design we chose has meaning to us on many levels, though I won't detail it all here.





I joined the Regular Army. I am now stationed at Fort Bliss, just like Autumn, and it's almost like we have regular jobs with the same company (commercial company, that is). She has been on travel for a few days, but before she left, we had lunch 3 of the previous 7 days, and we bring Matt to see each other briefly at work on days when one works and the other does not. I make less money, and I am certainly working a lot less without having to manage both my Army career and my full-time civilian career. I am sad I am not working with John Lagozzino and Bob Randolph at GDIT right now, but living in El Paso would prohibit that anyway. We have a few years left here and I want to make the most of it - what I was really going for was what Autumn and I had in high school, which was separate academic careers on the same campus with some of the same activities. I used to play practical jokes on her, surprise her, and generally do things you do to a girl when you like her. When I was working my civilian job in Virginia, I was a one hour drive (each way) from where Autumn was, if she was at the closest hospital! Forget lunch, let alone kindling our respective inner teenagers!





I said goodbye ... again. I left good friends in Delaware, Virginia, and Maryland when I left for Iraq, but it was not reconnecting when I got back that was really goodbye. It's hard for me to say goodbye (silently or otherwise), but harder for me to correspond, as I am sure everyone will agree I am probably one of the worst correspondents this side of three degrees of separation. I will miss my friends, but I would rather say goodbye and remember the relationships as happy than watch them suffocate as I try haplessly to keep frequent communication alive. I did this when I left Hong Kong in 1989, Glendora in 1993, Claremont in 1997, Ithaca in 2001, Georgia in 2007, and probably El Paso in 2012. My memories are strewn with the remnants of old friends the way they were when I last saw them, if not with faces, at least the essence. Lots of things remind me of people I used to know, and who I suppose used to know me. It makes me feel lonely and apprehensive about making new friends.

I have been replaced. Before I left Iraq, I discovered that while Autumn and I had not kept in touch as often as we both would have liked, she found friends with whom she continues to keep in touch in both the medical and the Special Forces communities. That is not a bad thing (I found good friends serving in Iraq), but Autumn has made it clear to me that given a choice of communicating with them or communicating with me on virtually every topic, she is, for the time being, more comfortable communicating with them. I know this because I asked her "not to choose them over me again" now that we're both back, and she not only didn't say "Ok, yes, I won't", she said "it's going to take some time, and you will just have to live with it". So I am living with it, we have a big pink elephant in the corner, and maybe someday I will find I am #1 in her life again. We have talked about it once since she told me to suck it up, and it was a good conversation, but I am still mourning the loss of our intimacy and intensely resentful and jealous of the people who have seemingly replaced me.

I reconnected with my son. I just finished building him a playset that he really likes - the kind with a slide and swings, a climbing wall, a net, and even a little ship steering wheel, and also the kind he used all summer at his cousins' houses. I can be the only one in the room and he is good with it, he smiles when I come in from work, and I can take him on errands without it being a huge cryfest. Those things were not true the few weeks after I got home, and I thought the alienation would never subside, but it has. We are currently working on him letting me put him to bed, which requires a vanishing act by Loretta and/or Autumn at bedtime so I am seemingly the only one around. I guess if dad is a distant 3rd, and he's the only one there, it's ok for him to read books, sing nursery rhymes, and sleep on the floor next to the bed until sleep comes. All in good time, I suppose - something I have a little more faith in now.











I think that about covers it. Hopefully the asterisk on "Happily Ever After" comes down sooner rather than later, but for now, it's a good start with a way to go.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Lessons of a Scorpio

The following is copied from a website which discusses astrological signs. I had a discussion at the end of my deployment about "what it means to be a scorpio", and subsequently did some self-analysis and self-reflection which resulted in the musings of this post.

* The red text was generated by me; the black text originates from http://zodiac-signs-astrology.com/zodiac-signs/scorpio.htm.

Scorpio and Independence:

Scorpios are fiercely independent. They are able to accomplish anything they put their mind to and they won't give up. They are perfectly suited to being on their own. They are not social butterflies like some other zodiac signs and some actually prefer to live on their own that way there is never any issue about who controls what at home, as they like to be in control.

I have, in the past, been a control freak. Deployments in the Army don’t particularly agree with control freaks, since so many details of a deployment are outside of the individual soldier’s control. For example, it took me 10 days to get across the Atlantic to Afghanistan, and 2 days to travel a few hundred miles to FB Lilley. When I was at ROTC Advanced Camp in 2000, I hated the fact that I didn’t have any control over my own schedule, my own personal space, my own food, or anything else for that matter. But I think I relaxed considerably during my deployment to Afghanistan. I’m not sure why, but I’m not so severe of a control freak anymore (at least so far during my transition; this may change!). Perhaps the Army has beaten it out of me. More likely, though, is that I have learned to put time, effort, and passion into the things which will make a difference in my life or the lives of others … and not allow less important things to get to me. My mother has always told me not to allow things outside of my control to “rent space in my head”; I think I am now finally taking that excellent advice to heart.

Scorpio and Friendship:

Relationships with Scorpio are always complicated; just like the person, their relationships are a series of extremes, and they can even be downright moody for no apparent reason. Scorpios are known for their possessiveness and jealousy but on the other hand, they are extremely loyal. They will always remember a kind gesture forever and repay it. Any kind selfless gesture done to a Scorpio will gain trust and respect which is extremely important to them in any relationship, either romantic or not.

Yes, I can be moody for no apparent reason (or, there might be an apparent reason, as those of you who have had the pleasure of dealing with me when I’m hungry have seen). Although I’m not as possessive or jealous as this description might suggest, the narrative is absolutely accurate in reference to my fierce loyal streak. For example, the SF guys at Lilley took good care of me when I joined them in June, and as a result, I vowed to repay them in some way. I settled on becoming something of a liaison in Bagram, helping them to obtain supplies and equipment that they otherwise might not be able to obtain. After my second (very eventful) trip to Lilley, my loyalty and respect for them knows no bounds.

Scorpio and Careers:

Scorpios make excellent doctors, surgeons, scientists and leaders; they are perfectly suited to any form of business that makes a difference in the world, that greatly impacts people and society. Most importantly, Scorpio has to be in a power position: this is why these careers are suited to the Scorpio. They all demand one person in supreme control giving orders and leading a unit of people or practices.

“Impacting people and society” wasn’t necessarily a priority of mine prior to my little vacation in Afghanistan; however, I now realize that “impacting people and society” is, quite simply and accurately, what I enjoyed so much about the deployment. One of my goals has been to make a difference, and in Afghanistan the opportunities to improve the lives of Afghans abound. (I suppose this makes logical sense, for Afghanistan is a third-world country with many societal, governmental, health, and cultural challenges, all of which provide opportunities for intervention and improvement.)

Whether my mission is caring for the children of soldiers who put themselves in harm’s way (i.e. my mission in the states) or caring for the soldiers themselves (i.e. my mission this summer in Afghanistan), all I really want to do is make a difference in somebody’s life every day. My own personal satisfaction is derived from making these small differences in people’s lives, and I am repaid with smiles of appreciation from parents, honest words of thanks from downrange soldiers, and the personal knowledge that I have made the world just a little bit better. I don’t need “stuff” or “things” in return for caring for those who serve this great country – generally their appreciation is payment enough.

Scorpio and Temperament:

Scorpios are extremely ambitious, persistent and determined … and a Scorpio never gives up - they are absolutely determined to reach their goal. The key to their success is flexibility. They are able to re-survey a situation and take a different approach if necessary. This makes them very adaptable and versatile.

The unknown has always been frightening to me; as a self-proclaimed sufferer of OCD (or OCPD), I like not only knowledge of the future, but also some element of control over it. Afghanistan certainly changed my comfort level with regard to the unknown; many aspects of my life were unknown while working at the Bagram hospital. For example, while I would usually know the overnight call schedule in advance, I would never know whether I would admit 2 patients overnight, or admit 22 patients overnight, whether I would get a full nights’ sleep or never see the call room at all. Furthermore, while Bagram was probably the safest base in Afghanistan, the base was attacked with indirect fire several times while I was stationed there; certainly the rocket attacks could never be predicted and we could never be fully prepared. Some soldiers constantly worry about being attacked while in the theater of operations; I was not one of these soldiers. I had to let go of my fear of the unknown – otherwise it would eat me alive, constantly occupy my thoughts, and ultimately compromise patient care.

Scorpios are excellent at restoring order to a chaotic situation and they are just as capable of manipulating for their own greed and benefit. The un-evolved Scorpio is a very dangerous person because they use their powers to benefit only them and step on other people in order to satisfy their own greed.

If there’s anything I have learned during this deployment, it’s that “restoring order to a chaotic situation” is not only an ability of mine, but it is also something I whole-heartedly enjoy. While I have always enjoyed the career fields that involve creating order from disorder (e.g. ICU, emergency medicine), I chose pediatrics because I absolutely love and enjoy caring for children. (Now that I have had some experience taking care of adults again, I am even more committed to pediatric medicine and even more convinced that my choice of patient demographic was correct so many years ago.) I enjoy kids, but I also enjoy the adrenaline rush of an ED code or the chaos of the delivery room when a newborn refuses to take her first breath. Thus I feel that I am at a crossroads: I would like to continue to take care of kids (at least some of the time), but I would also like to participate regularly in the forcible regulation of pandemonium.

There are many options, some of which are plausible and some of which are not. These options include emergency medicine (which would require a 4-year residency in emergency medicine), pediatric emergency medicine (which would require a 3-year peds ER fellowship, which might or might not be supported by the Army), civil affairs doc (who mostly do public health types of missions), SF group surgeon (which would require me to go to Airborne school at the minimum, and would require a complete change of focus to tactical and field medicine), and operational billet (like battalion surgeon or flight surgeon; both positions would require me to give up pediatric medicine).

So where does this leave me? Where am I headed in life with these recent career aspirations? What will the Army allow, and what might be best for my family? These are all questions which demand an answer sooner rather than later. Given that I am now working in emergency medicine and loving it, I think I have a respectable starting point to build these career changes …

Scorpio Deep Inside:

Scorpio is the most misunderstood of all astrology signs. They are all about intensity and contradictions. They like to be aware of a situation and always know what's going on, figuring this out with their probing mind … They are very capable of hiding their true feelings and motivations, as they often have ulterior motives or a hidden agenda.

Scorpios are very emotional. Compared with other signs, their emotions are intensified - both good and bad. Negative emotions of jealousy and resentment are hallmarks of this turbulent astrology sign. On the other hand, Scorpios are well known for their forceful and powerful drive to succeed and their amazing dedication. Scorpios are constantly trying to understand their emotions through finding a deeper purpose in life.

I am far more emotional than I was 6 months ago. I have seen ample death, devastation, passion, poise, tyranny, selfishness, and loyalty during this time. All these emotions were so vivid, unadulterated, and raw that they could never be duplicated. Although I did not experience all of these emotions myself, I was given the opportunity to experience them with and through others; these shared experiences have given me food for thought about the deeper callings in my life and career. This self-reflection – which has been evident on our blog in posts like “Transitions” and “Fear is the best motivator” – is strong evidence of my scorpio tendencies.

Scorpios have a fear of failure that they keep hidden extremely well. Should their confrontation not be successful, or their career fail, they will simply use their adaptive skill to quickly change course and leave the bad experience behind. Do not ever expect them to fess up or share their failure, though, because this shows signs of weakness.

I have often said that I have a primal fear of failure. Nobody really sees this fear; I purposefully camouflage it within a fragile shell of confidence and poise. I know that I have defects in my medical and Army knowledge like everyone else; therefore, I am constantly questioning my understanding of military medicine, and ultimately trying to improve my fund of knowledge. Unlike many docs, I am comfortable with my shortcomings, and do not hesitate to ask for help when patient care hangs in the balance. (Patients come first, far before my fear of failure or concern about the appearance of ignorance.) I don’t let everyone know that I’m not a confident person on the inside – after all, would you like to take your kids to a pediatrician who didn’t sound self-assured? I keep a confident front because I’m supposed to, and it engenders trust from my patients; however, deep down inside I have issues with self-confidence that stem from a deep-seated fear of failure.

Scorpios are very weary about trusting anyone; a person needs to gain their trust but once all the 'trust tests' have been passed, Scorpio loves deeply and intensely. Underneath the cool exterior, energies and emotions are constantly flowing but the Scorpio channels it into useful activities, hobbies, relationships or a career. This is never apparent to the outside observer but knowing this fact explains why Scorpios are so passionate … Scorpios have powerful instincts and they trust their own gut feeling.

It has taken me a long time and much experience to trust my gut. In medicine, I can walk into a waiting room and identify a child who might not be very sick at the moment, but who will in short order become quite ill. Most of the time, I cannot identify anything about the child that gives me this gut feeling; his vital signs, appearance, lung sounds, etc might be completely normal when I first examine him. But when my gut tells me something is awry, I have learned to listen and trust these feelings, even if they do not seem to make sense at the time.

During my deployment, I have learned to trust my gut in more diverse scenarios. For example, after my downrange mission the SF team at Fire Base Lilley was preparing for an outside-the-wire mission (as they do almost daily), but when I got word of the mission, I expressed to one of the team members my gut-wrenching conjecture that something was about to go terribly wrong. We discussed his process for casualty notification (read: notification of family and friends in the event of his death), and because he trusted my gut, he offered to stay at Lilley within the wire while the rest of the team completed the outside-the-wire mission. Of course, I told him that he had to go – his team could not afford NOT to have him – but that he should be very, very careful and tell the rest of the team to do the same. I wasn’t sure why, but I was nearly in tears telling him about my intuition/superstition/gut feeling. Ultimately, I was relieved to learn that the mission had been cancelled; only then was I able to sleep soundly.

The ongoing lesson in life for those born under the Scorpio zodiac sign is to channel their powerful energy into positive goals and not succumb to the darker forces in life (e.g. manipulation and greed). They will then have great success in life and have a clean, happy conscience and a circle of friends they can trust and hold dear to them.

Scorpio in a Nutshell:

Scorpio is the astrology sign of extremes and intensity. Scorpios are very deep, intense people; there is always more then meets the eye. They present a cool, detached and unemotional air to the world yet lying underneath is tremendous power, extreme strength, intense passion and a strong will and a persistent drive. Scorpios have a very penetrative mind; do not be surprised if they ask questions, as they are trying to delve deeper and figure things out. They always want to know why, where and any other possible detail they can possibly know. Scorpios are weary of the games that other people try to play and they are very aware when they are being manipulated. Scorpios tend to dominate and control anyone that lets them. The person that a Scorpio respects and holds close to them is treated with amazing kindness, loyalty and generosity. On the outside, a Scorpio has great secretiveness and mystery. This magnetically draws people to them. They are known to be controlling and overly ambitious - they need control in order to feel safe.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Confessions of a liar

I humbly submit that I have become an expert in lies and deception.

For weeks, I have been keeping a terrible, awful secret from James. You see, I made plans to bring Matthew to Dover for James' redeployment ceremony, and I "neglected" to tell James that he and I would be attending. It just slipped my mind ..... honestly ...... :-)

I basically had to weave a complex web of lies to achieve the desired surprise. (And, by the way, a whole lot of other people had to help me keep the image and/or be involved in the plans to keep it all a secret ..... thank you to those with tight lips!) The lies began with the buying of plane tickets (to Baltimore, not LA like I told James), and arranging to stay at Lisa and Bob Bell's home in Dover for the trip (not in the apartment in Glendora, like I told James). The real problem presented itself a few days ago when I learned that James would be leaving Dover on October 1st (tomorrow); however, knowing that the plane flight scheduled for Matt and I wouldn't be until October 2nd, I called James' command to let them in on the secret. They agreed to "arrange" that he couldn't leave Delaware until the day that I was scheduled to leave, but little did I know what a great job they would do in convoluting the plans! They gave him some crazy ridiculous story about how his flight *had* to be scheduled during the redeployment ceremony because it was the only flight to El Paso on that day and he *had* to fly during fiscal year 2009 for financing reasons. He was instructed to miss the flight (obviously) and reschedule after the ceremony. (His command also gave him a bunch of other problems during redeployment just to mess with him .... but I'll allow him the satisfaction of blogging about those frustrating experiences. And remember, Honey, that was all a concoction in the brains of LTC Devine and CW4 Alequine .... I had nothing to do with it!) In any case, he called me yesterday explaining the situation, and I intentionally made him feel guilty about not getting back home to Matt and I sooner, etc etc.
Me: "Do you really have to attend the redeployment ceremony? Wouldn't you rather take your scheduled flight during the ceremony and get back to Matt and me that much quicker?!"
James: "Honey, don't take this the wrong way, but there are other people coming to the ceremony, and I don't want to let them down since they are coming to see me."
Me: (innocently, but clearly fishing to see if James actually suspected that I would be there with Matt) "Oh really? Who's coming? Anyone I know?"
James: "Well, the Bell family, of course. No one else that I know of is supposed to be there."
Me: ::look of extreme relief as sweat rolls down my brow::
I laid it on thick - and I mean thick. Ultimately, he had no idea that Matt and I would be at the ceremony, and also had no idea that four of his other friends from the East Coast would come for the ceremony either. He appeared flabbergasted when he saw us - which was exactly the effect I had wanted! (By the way, the local media picked up on our unique story of two parents deployed at the same time with a young child at home; in fact, they read Matt's shirt about "Daddy's boots in Iraq" and "Mommy's boots in Afghanistan" and were thereby alerted to the situation. The media not only interviewed James and me incessantly, but they also filmed the moment of our reunion from every angle you could possibly imagine. So far I am not aware of any clips of us that survived the editing room floor, but judging from the sheer number of cameras in our faces all day, I imagine we'll find a few clips of ourselves on the net or local TV.)

After the ceremony, we went back to our friends' house for Capriotti's subs, drinks (with alcohol, of course), chocolate and vanilla cake, and casual conversation about everything from the paparazzi to the politics of the war on terror to the method to avoid the obligatory 10-pound weight gain during redeployment. James ended up going to sleep shortly after Matt, so the night was cut somewhat short, but it was a very pleasant few hours of rest and relaxation with family and friends. I think James would agree with me when I say that we hope to have more nights like these in the next month!!

Once again, these pictures are worth more than a thousand words....

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Photo Journal

Today I thought I would post a few pictures to help document the last
week as Matt and I have been getting to know each other once again.
Now, we have only a line .... that is, two of the corners of our isosceles
triangle have joined, and now we only have to wait a few more days for
our triangle-now-line to morph into something we haven't known in a
long time: a single point in space and time containing two big hearts and
one little one.

Here are some pictures of Matthew and I just after he arrived in El Paso last week:



And here are some of the pictures from "Breakfast with the Elephants" at the El Paso Zoo this morning:



Saturday, September 26, 2009

On Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs

The following is a reproduction of a short essay by LTC Dave Grossman which was published in his 2004 book,
On Combat.  LTC Grossman is a former Airborne Ranger who spearheaded a new scientific research endeavor appropriately termed "killology", which aims to further our knowledge regarding "our understanding of killing in war, the psychological costs of war, the root causes of the current 'virus' of violent crime that is raging around the world, and the process of healing the victims of violence, in war and peace" (from his website, which incidentally contains fascinating information about his field of research and his conclusions). 

I first read this essay a week or two ago when it was forwarded to me via email; it has since spurred a very interesting internal dialogue about whether I am currently a sheep or a sheepdog, and whether I should be a sheep or a sheepdog.  Some other questions which may be interesting to ponder as you read:

- Can one "choose" to be a sheep, a sheepdog, or a wolf as LTC Grossman asserts?  Precisely what defines each of these categories of people?  Does the perspective of the observer (the person assigning the categories) matter, or is an individual always a sheep, a sheepdog, or a wolf?

- A fundamental characteristic of sheep is their ability to deny, deny, deny even in the face of hard evidence.  But how much denial makes one a sheep?  By what metric should we "measure" denial?

- Does the Darwinian theory of natural selection apply to the relationship between wolves and sheep?  If so, what does that say about the relationship between sheep, sheepdogs, and wolves a million or so years in the future?

- In LTC Grossman's analogy, is there such a thing as a wolf in sheep's clothing?  How does a sheepdog differentiate between true sheep, and a wolf parading around as sheep?  And what is his obligation to the sheep of the world when he discovers a wolf in sheep's clothing?

- Are there other categories of citizens besides sheep, sheepdogs, and wolves?  Or does every person fit into one of these categories at any given time?

- LTC Grossman asserts that sheep can become sheepdogs.  What differences exist between sheepdogs who have always been sheepdogs, and sheepdogs who have morphed from sheep?  (Think about philosophy, appearance, reactivity level, thirst for adrenaline, and personal relationships.)  Which would you rather be? 

And now, without further, here is the essay ..... please enjoy and comment as you see fit. :-)

-----------------------------------

On Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs

By Dave Grossman

"Honor never grows old, and honor rejoices the heart of age. It does so because honor is, finally, about defending those noble and worthy things that deserve defending, even if it comes at a high cost. In our time, that may mean social disapproval, public scorn, hardship, persecution, or as always, even death itself.

The question remains: What is worth defending? What is worth dying for? What is worth living for?"

- William J. Bennett
  In a lecture to the United States Naval Academy
  November 24, 1997

One Vietnam veteran, an old retired colonel, once said this to me: “Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident.” This is true. Remember, the murder rate is six per 100,000 per year, and the aggravated assault rate is four per 1,000 per year. What this means is that the vast majority of Americans are not inclined to hurt one another.

Some estimates say that two million Americans are victims of violent crimes every year, a tragic, staggering number, perhaps an all-time record rate of violent crime. But there are almost 300 million Americans, which means that the odds of being a victim of violent crime is considerably less than one in a hundred on any given year. Furthermore, since many violent crimes are committed by repeat offenders, the actual number of violent citizens is considerably less than two million.

Thus there is a paradox, and we must grasp both ends of the situation: We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people who are not capable of hurting each other, except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep.

I mean nothing negative by calling them sheep. To me it is like the pretty, blue robin’s egg. Inside it is soft and gooey but someday it will grow into something wonderful. But the egg cannot survive without its hard blue shell. Police officers, soldiers and other warriors are like that shell, and someday the civilization they protect will grow into something wonderful. For now, though, they need warriors to protect them from the predators.
“Then there are the wolves,” the old war veteran said, “and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy.” Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial.


“Then there are sheepdogs,” he went on, “and I’m a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf.” Or, as a sign in one California law enforcement agency put it, “We intimidate those who intimidate others.”

If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen: a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath--a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? Then you are a sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero’s path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed.

The gift of aggression

"What goes on around you... compares little with what goes on inside you."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Everyone has been given a gift in life. Some people have a gift for science and some have a flair for art. And warriors have been given the gift of aggression. They would no more misuse this gift than a doctor would misuse his healing arts, but they yearn for the opportunity to use their gift to help others. These people, the ones who have been blessed with the gift of aggression and a love for others, are our sheepdogs. These are our warriors.

One career police officer wrote to me about this after attending one of my Bulletproof Mind training sessions:

"I want to say thank you for finally shedding some light on why it is that I can do what I do. I always knew why I did it. I love my [citizens], even the bad ones, and had a talent that I could return to my community. I just couldn’t put my finger on why I could wade through the chaos, the gore, the sadness, if given a chance try to make it all better, and walk right out the other side."
Let me expand on this old soldier’s excellent model of the sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. We know that the sheep live in denial; that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids’ schools. But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid’s school. Our children are dozens of times more likely to be killed, and thousands of times more likely to be seriously injured, by school violence than by school fires, but the sheep’s only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their children is just too hard, so they choose the path of denial.

The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, cannot and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheepdog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours.

Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn’t tell them where to go, or give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports in camouflage fatigues holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, “Baa.”

Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog. As Kipling said in his poem about “Tommy” the British soldier:

While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind,"
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind.

The students, the victims, at Columbine High School were big, tough high school students, and under ordinary circumstances they would not have had the time of day for a police officer. They were not bad kids; they just had nothing to say to a cop. When the school was under attack, however, and SWAT teams were clearing the rooms and hallways, the officers had to physically peel those clinging, sobbing kids off of them. This is how the little lambs feel about their sheepdog when the wolf is at the door. Look at what happened after September 11, 2001, when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Remember how many times you heard the word hero?

Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be. Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed right along with the young ones.

Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, “Thank God I wasn’t on one of those planes.” The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, “Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference.” When you are truly transformed into a warrior and have truly invested yourself into warriorhood, you want to be there. You want to be able to make a difference.

While there is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, he does have one real advantage. Only one. He is able to survive and thrive in an environment that destroys 98 percent of the population.

There was research conducted a few years ago with individuals convicted of violent crimes. These cons were in prison for serious, predatory acts of violence: assaults, murders and killing law enforcement officers. The vast majority said that they specifically targeted victims by body language: slumped walk, passive behavior and lack of awareness. They chose their victims like big cats do in Africa, when they select one out of the herd that is least able to protect itself.

However, when there were cues given by potential victims that indicated they would not go easily, the cons said that they would walk away. If the cons sensed that the target was a "counter-predator," that is, a sheepdog, they would leave him alone unless there was no other choice but to engage.

One police officer told me that he rode a commuter train to work each day. One day, as was his usual, he was standing in the crowded car, dressed in blue jeans, T-shirt and jacket, holding onto a pole and reading a paperback. At one of the stops, two street toughs boarded, shouting and cursing and doing every obnoxious thing possible to intimidate the other riders. The officer continued to read his book, though he kept a watchful eye on the two punks as they strolled along the aisle making comments to female passengers, and banging shoulders with men as they passed.

As they approached the officer, he lowered his novel and made eye contact with them. “You got a problem, man?” one of the IQ-challenged punks asked. “You think you’re tough, or somethin’?” the other asked, obviously offended that this one was not shirking away from them.

“As a matter of fact, I am tough,” the officer said, calmly and with a steady gaze.

The two looked at him for a long moment, and then without saying a word, turned and moved back down the aisle to continue their taunting of the other passengers, the sheep.

Some people may be destined to be sheep and others might be genetically primed to be wolves or sheepdogs. But I believe that most people can choose which one they want to be, and I’m proud to say that more and more Americans are choosing to become sheepdogs.

Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When he learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd dropped his phone and uttered the words, “Let’s roll,” which authorities believe was a signal to the other passengers to confront the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers--athletes, business people and parents--from sheep to sheepdogs and together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground. 

“Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?”
 
"Here is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men."
- Edmund Burke
  Reflections on the Revolution in France

Here is the point I like to emphasize, especially to the thousands of police officers and soldiers I speak to each year. In nature the sheep, real sheep, are born as sheep. Sheepdogs are born that way, and so are wolves. They didn’t have a choice. But you are not a critter. As a human being, you can be whatever you want to be. It is a conscious, moral decision.
If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you. If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust or love. But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior’s path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door.

For example, many officers carry their weapons in church. They are well concealed in ankle holsters, shoulder holsters or inside-the-belt holsters tucked into the small of their backs. Anytime you go to some form of religious service, there is a very good chance that a police officer in your congregation is carrying. You will never know if there is such an individual in your place of worship, until the wolf appears to slaughter you and your loved ones.

I was training a group of police officers in Texas, and during the break, one officer asked his friend if he carried his weapon in church. The other cop replied, “I will never be caught without my gun in church.” I asked why he felt so strongly about this, and he told me about a police officer he knew who was at a church massacre in Ft. Worth, Texas, in 1999. In that incident, a mentally deranged individual came into the church and opened fire, gunning down 14 people. He said that officer believed he could have saved every life that day if he had been carrying his gun. His own son was shot, and all he could do was throw himself on the boy’s body and wait to die. That cop looked me in the eye and said, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?”

Some individuals would be horrified if they knew this police officer was carrying a weapon in church. They might call him paranoid and would probably scorn him. Yet these same individuals would be enraged and would call for “heads to roll” if they found out that the airbags in their cars were defective, or that the fire extinguisher and fire sprinklers in their kids’ school did not work. They can accept the fact that fires and traffic accidents can happen and that there must be safeguards against them. Their only response to the wolf, though, is denial, and all too often their response to the sheepdog is scorn and disdain. But the sheepdog quietly asks himself, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself if your loved ones were attacked and killed, and you had to stand there helplessly because you were unprepared for that day?”

The warrior must cleanse denial from his thinking. Coach Bob Lindsey, a renowned law enforcement trainer, says that warriors must practice “when/then” thinking, not “if/when.” Instead of saying,“If it happens then I will take action,” the warrior says, “When it happens then I will be ready.”

It is denial that turns people into sheep. Sheep are psychologically destroyed by combat because their only defense is denial, which is counterproductive and destructive, resulting in fear, helplessness and horror when the wolf shows up.

Denial kills you twice. It kills you once, at your moment of truth when you are not physically prepared: You didn’t bring your gun; you didn’t train. Your only defense was wishful thinking. Hope is not a strategy. Denial kills you a second time because even if you do physically survive, you are psychologically shattered by fear, helplessness, horror and shame at your moment of truth.

Chuck Yeager, the famous test pilot and first man to fly faster than the speed of sound, says that he knew he could die. There was no denial for him. He did not allow himself the luxury of denial. This acceptance of reality can cause fear, but it is a healthy, controlled fear that will keep you alive:

"I was always afraid of dying. Always. It was my fear that made me learn everything I could about my airplane and my emergency equipment, and kept me flying respectful of my machine and always alert in the cockpit."
- Brigadier General Chuck Yeager
  Yeager, An Autobiography

Gavin de Becker puts it like this in Fear Less, his superb post-9/11 book, which should be required reading for anyone trying to come to terms with our current world situation:

"..denial can be seductive, but it has an insidious side effect. For all the peace of mind deniers think they get by saying it isn’t so, the fall they take when faced with new violence is all the more unsettling. Denial is a save-now-pay-later scheme, a contract written entirely in small print, for in the long run, the denying person knows the truth on some level."

And so the warrior must strive to confront denial in all aspects of his life, and prepare himself for the day when evil comes.

If you are a warrior who is legally authorized to carry a weapon and you step outside without that weapon, then you become a sheep, pretending that the bad man will not come today. No one can be “on” 24/7 for a lifetime. Everyone needs down time. But if you are authorized to carry a weapon, and you walk outside without it, just take a deep breath, and say this to yourself... “Baa.”

This business of being a sheep or a sheepdog is not a yes-no dichotomy. It is not an all-or-nothing, either-or choice. It is a matter of degrees, a continuum. On one end is an abject, head-in-the-grass sheep and on the other end is the ultimate warrior. Few people exist completely on one end or the other. Most of us live somewhere in between. Since 9-11 almost everyone in America took a step up that continuum, away from denial. The sheep took a few steps toward accepting and appreciating their warriors, and the warriors started taking their job more seriously. The degree to which you move up that continuum, away from sheephood and denial, is the degree to which you and your loved ones will survive, physically and psychologically at your moment of truth. 

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Passing the Torch

About a week ago, I took this picture of the miniature T-wall outside the building where we've worked for 10 months (T-walls are normally 12-foot tall blast walls). This thing has been standing here since we got to Iraq, but I took the picture to commemorate a recent change: there is an end date painted on it!


Yes, our replacements are here, and they are here in force. We have been showing them our jobs, giving up our desks, introducing them to the revolving door of temporary colleagues they will be working with while in theater, as our predecessors did before us, and as they will do for someone else.

I normally don't post about the goings-on of my unit itself, and while I realize those are the juicy details that sell papers, they're also the kind that the Army doesn't like posted in blogs and, incidentally, the papers. Well, the secret of our redeployment is already out, and it wasn't posted here on OIT first (it was posted here ...), so I think I'm ok. If I end up with the guys in black coats and generic government cars, you all know what happened ... (they didn't get their free T-shirt from the last run we sponsored).

As the article says, we're waiting for movement back to the US to do a mountain of paperwork, and to get released. As such, we have a lot of time to think about the last year, even if all anyone talks about is what they're going to do when we get home. I know of a couple of motorcycles, a bunch of new computers, drinking too much beer, and a whole lot of romantic dinners (mine and Autumn's included!!) that are frequently mentioned plans. I'm also afraid that things won't be ok, and I have no idea what to do to prepare for it except to meet it head on as the last trial of the deployment.

The ironic part about that is that even the unknown over here had an air of finality to it - I took the baton from someone working on a problem, carried it all I could (due to time or the limits of my knowledge/ability/authority/etc), then passed it to the next appropriate person. The next step was always clear here, where the environment is so volatile and complicated, and I know it won't be so simple at home where the environment is presumably peaceful and uncomplicated.

Oh well, once more into the breach ...

Friday, September 18, 2009

Transitions

Much has been written about the transition a soldier must endure following deployment. When I left Bagram, I assumed that I would "power through" the redeployment and reintegration phases, hurry up and get it done, and move on with my family and my job. I have "powered through" many things in my life with pure determination and perseverance; it generally suits me well. But the past 2 days have taught me that I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

It has been a tough few days. I returned home from Atlanta to find that there were several challenges awaiting me: first and foremost, my car was dead and the brakes were nonfunctional. Secondly, the AC in the house wasn't working, and of course the gas was off. Luckily, there was some very good news as well, namely that the house wasn't underwater and that it actually looked quite clean. My first shower was tap-water cold, but other than that, things were actually looking tolerable.

Day 1 was great until late in the day. I spoke with some friends in Afghanistan on skype, made some calls to my command to let them know about my car troubles, and did some cleaning up around the house. Around 4 pm, I received a call from my command telling me to report in the morning and threatening AWOL paperwork for my absence during the day. I nearly reached through the phone and strangled my company commander for this little "welcome" home. I had been in contact with the command by email or phone more than 5 times in the 18 hours I had been back in town, and they were threatening A
WOL paperwork??!! They deploy me and my husband at the same time so we have to abandon our house for six months, and when my car isn't working (not to mention the fact that I had no gas or air conditioning in the house) they want to start AWOL paperwork??!! I was incensed to the point of tears. Strike 1. The day went downhill from there.


I call
ed AAA to have my car towed, just to be informed that my membership had lapsed while I was gone and there would be a 7-day waiting period for my full membership to begin again. Strike 2. I had my dad look into rental cars, and we basically found none in El Paso for any reasonable price. Strike 3.



Day 2 was a better day, although it too had its challenges. (It didn't help that I couldn't sleep, even after doing some yoga.) The biggest challenge was repor
ting to the hospital in the morning. For the first time, I felt the need to be anonymous at my own hospital. I didn't really want to see anyone that I knew (of which there are few), and really didn't want to meet anyone new either. I just wanted to get a few signatures on my paperwork and get out of there. It was highly overwhelming to be back in a "normal" and "calm" hospital, one without the ominous overhead pages ("Level I Trauma in the Emergency Room, 5 minutes") and the constant pall of a combat surgical ward. I wanted to be anonymous for many reasons, but mostly because I feel that no one understands what I've been through. I haven't kept in touch with anyone who is still assigned to the hospital, and how does one encapsulate 6 months of combat service into a few sentences when an acquaintance asks? An additional complicating layer involves the status of the acquaintance: if the person is a civilian without combat experience, there is absolutely no way for him/her to comprehend the challenges of a deployment. The person may be appreciative, may get misty-eyed to see me, may say how good it is that I'm home in one piece - but fact of the matter is that no one without deployment experience could possibly understand its challenges.

The war zone evolves depending on the fortitude and proclivity of the political winds of change. Therefore, even the military members can't understand (or they don't care ... I'm not sure which sometimes). Generally, servicemembers with a combat patch will at least remember the emotional toll caused by absence from family and friends, as well as the difficulties of reintegrating into normal American society. I'll give them that. But unless you have worked in the Bagram hospital and/or at Fire Base Lilley in 2009, there's no way to understand what
I have gone through. A soldiers' experience while deployed depends not only on his/her internal support mechanism with family & friends, but also the location, time, length of deployment, strength of leadership, level of security, and operational specialty (position). No two deployments are ever the same; the differences between, say, OIF and OEF are staggering. Even a deployment to Helmand province in Afghanistan bears little similarity to my experience in Bagram. The differences between the PICU in Bagram in 2005 (when the hospital was a tent) and 2009 are also impressive. Needless to say, no soldier at my hospital has experienced Bagram and at FB Lilley in Afghanistan in 2009, so the building is full of people and faces but still feels quite empty.

Later in the day, I drive my now-functioning car to the grocery store to fill the pantry with basic food in preparation for Matthew's arrival the following day. I walked into Wal-Mart and had to engage in deep breathing and self-talk: the place is big, and loud, and full of people. The biggest problem, though, wasn't the crowds or the fact that I was starving as I shopped; it was the preposterous number of options I encountered for every item on my shopping list. The cereal aisle was the worst - I have eaten Special K and Cheerios for six months, so having the option of Crispix or Shredded Wheat (in 5 varieties) or Captain Crunch or Rice Krispies (also in at least 5 varieties made by several different manufacturers) was mind-boggling. The same mind freeze occurred in the ice cream aisle, since I have had the choice of exactly 6 flavors during the deployment - sometimes less, depending on supply. How was I supposed to decide intelligently between Starbucks flavors and Ben and Jerry's and Dreyer's with all of their attendant gustatory variances??! Ultimately, I had to tell myself to make a relatively quick decision and get comfortable with the fact that I might change my mind later .... and remember that I now have the freedom to drive back to Wal-Mart and get other flavors if I feel the urge. (By the way, I ended up with Honey Bunches of Oats and Reese's Puffs for cereal, and vanilla, peanut butter cup, pumpkin, and a bunch of single-serving Ben & Jerry's cups to satisfy my ice cream fetish.)

In writing this post, I thought back to an email sent to me by my wonderful Grandmother during my last days in Bagram:
"You are packing up and getting ready to leave Afghanistan. I know how you feel. You wish that you could take everything there home with you and that you could have ALL of both worlds. You can do that, but with the memories you will always take and have with you. But it's hard to leave those places and those people who have meant so much to you for even a short amount of time.

You will never untie those knots,
even though you might never see some of those people again.


I, and I know the rest of our family, will be here waiting for you
with our arms open to clasp you to our hearts again."

Right now, less than a week after my return to the US and before I have seen any friends or family in the states, I am still depending heavily on my friends in Afghanistan for reassurance that everything I'm feeling is normal and that I will feel less overwhelmed over time. My friends that have deployed before can provide insight into the process that no one else can, and thus I need them right now.

I know in my brain that the reintegration process isn't quick. I know that there will be bumps in the road - maybe even gigantic potholes. I know that I will miss Bagram - I already do miss the simplicity of life in Afghanistan - and especially the friends I made there. I also have to be confident that my loved ones both in the US and in Afghanistan will be patient with this transition, and that there will be no pressure to "power through" as I had initially strived to do. My friends and family realize (or will realize) that I can't just cut off my friends in Afghanistan, since these soldiers 7,500 miles away have not only been my lifeline over the past 6 months, but also because we have shared some significant emotional experiences. My friends in Afghanistan, on the other hand, should understand that my family and friends here are .... well, here. And I have missed them terribly during my deployment, and need to get to know them again during this transition period.

I don't know how long I will need to feel "normal" again here in America. My transition has been and will be stepwise (which, by the way, is a really good thing); I started by staying in a hotel at Benning for 2 days, then came home for a few days to an empty house and no friends or family; this weekend, my mom and Matt will come into town and I'll have the opportunity to get used to being around them, and soon James will be home and we will reintegrate as a family. Over the course of several weeks, we three will be together visiting with our family in California, and finally return to El Paso to begin a more "normal" post-deployment life together. We have a whole lot to figure out between now and then!

(More on "normalcy" - also known as BORING! and PREDICTABLE! - in a future post. I promise!)


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