Gate River Run 15k Pictures

At long last, pictures of the 15k. First, a team picture of the folks from my unit who ran:

Top (Left to Right): CPT Beau Biden, MAJ Steve Willey, SPC Gully, CW2 James Richards, CPT Kim Lindgren, CPT Brian Nichols, SFC Charles Kosiek, CH (LTC) Ken Brandt, CW3 Porfirio Alequine. Bottom (Left to Right): SPC Nathan Siebach, LTC Robert Fink, CPT Tim Drake, 1LT Michael Olsen, MAJ John Herholdt.

Most of the pictures looked like the ones below, just without me in them. Notice the sludge on the road (it's also caked on the backs of our legs):

Gotta smile if you notice the camera!

Happy National Doctors' Day!!

Happy National Doctor's Day!! There was a great surprise from the nursing and support staff in celebration of National Doctor's Day: a BBQ lunch. And not just any BBQ ..... they coerced the flight doctors (who accompany patients to Germany every other day on med'evacs) to pick up some authentic German food from the Ramstein commissary. So there was real bratwurst, sauerkraut, cabbage, and real cheese (not the processed kind) for lunch!

During the BBQ, the winners of the "March Mustache Madness" competition were announced. We knew that Dr. Morgan (ENT surgeon) and Chief Coyle (Vet Tech) were at the top of the list, and we all rushed around this morning submitting our final votes. (Votes each cost $1.) Chief Coyle has had a mustache since 1992, and Dr. Morgan started growing his just a month ago. The winner has the "opportunity" to keep his mustache throughout the month of April, while all of the other men in the competition will be required to shave their faces completely by tomorrow. By a mere 10-vote margin, Dr. Morgan won the competition. Which means that Chief Coyle will have a bare face tomorrow ....



Overall, the competition garnered almost $600. Half of the earnings will be given to our young patient, Nasi, who is being transferred to a US hospital for further care. The remainder of the cash will go into the "morale fund" to pay for future parties and BBQs.

(Yes, these really are the things that keep us busy during deployment!)

Symbiosis

I was on call today in the ICU, and it was quite the busy day. First thing this morning, the 8 year old with burns was extubated and taken off the breathing machine. We had the translator at the bedside so that we could tell her what we were planning to do. Like a champ, she coughed when we pulled out the tube, and continued to cough some more to get the phlegm out of her airways. She did better than most of the adults I have seen extubated! She is a strong, strong little girl, and that has helped her tremendously as she rehabilitates in the ICU. She has had skin grafts to the 40% of her body that was burned, so now essentially her entire body is a huge sore (the 60% of her body which was not burned was harvested so that we could cover the 40% which was burned). Despite 5 trips to the OR, painful dressing changes, and a very different environment than she's used to, she has done beautifully thus far. She has a long road ahead of her (on the order of months, not weeks) which will likely include dozens of visits to the OR, but ultimately I think that she will survive.

In addition to taking care of her, I had two admissions today. One was a simple pre-admission for a 4-year-old boy who will undergo surgery in the morning. (He had an abdominal surgery about a year ago, and the pediatric surgeon will do the second and final stage of the procedure tomorrow morning. In the interim, he has nearly doubled his weight, going from 8 kg to 15 kg. He has also gained the strength to walk on his own!) The second admission took me somewhat by surprise: she is a 2-year-old girl transferred to us from a US hospital in eastern Afghanistan. She was struck by a tactical vehicle two days ago, and underwent surgery at that time to repair her left arm, which was broken in several places. She was transferred today for continued surgical care. Her arm was a deep purplish-blue color, and her hand was ice cold. We could not locate pulses at her elbow or her wrist. She was whisked to the CT scanner, then to the OR, where the surgeons attempted to repair her vasculature to restore blood flow to her hand. As of this writing, we do not know if the surgery was successful; a shunt was placed into the artery at her elbow to keep it open and flowing, and they are planning for another OR trip in a few hours to see if the shunt remains patent. If it does not work, an amputation is in her future.

I heard a very disturbing story when discussing this child with the ICU nurses. Most of them have been at Bagram for several months, and they have seen an endless stream of children come through the doors after losing a confrontation with a tactical vehicle. Rumor has it that families will actually throw their children in front of oncoming US traffic, since the US provides not only medical care but also a stipend to local Afghans injured in the course of this war. (I do not know if the stipend is provided on a one-time or recurring basis.) Apparently, the populace here is so desperate that they would sacrifice their most vulnerable assets - their children - in exchange for US dollars. I find this rumor appalling, but unfortunately believable considering the abject poverty of this country. I will attempt to confirm or deny this theory in the coming days.

Despite the horror of this rumor, my heart has been bouyed by the response of the staff to our little pediatric ward. There are four total patients now: I've already discussed the 8-year-old girl with burns, the 4-year-old going to surgery, and the 2-year-old girl with the mangled arm. The fourth patient is a 2-year-old who has been living in the hospital for a year now after suffering an injury to her esophagus and trachea. She swallowed a watch battery which eroded through these internal structures, and she now has a tracheostomy tube in her neck. She cannot go home with a trach since it requires a suction machine, but her family does not have electricity. She is known as the "Queen of the Hospital" and literally runs around smiling and waving at everybody. She even knows where the snacks are kept in the doc box! All of the hospital staff know Nasi, and we just can't help but smile when she toddles by. The same is true of the little girl with burns - you can't imagine the outpouring of support she has received from all over the base. The medics who picked her up initially from her destroyed home have visited several times; the daughters of one of the nurses drew her pictures for her hospital room then scanned and emailed them; every day I find new stuffed animals on her bed. (She's got quite a collection!)

Our little peds ward is unlike any other place in the hospital. It's known as the place where patients get better, and more importantly, it's the place where we can watch patients get better. With few exceptions, patients fall into one of four categories: (1) US and coalition troops, who are stabilized and air evac'ed to Germany; (2) Afghan soldiers and policemen, who are stabilized and returned to their local hospital; (3) enemy combatants, who are stabilized and returned to the internee facility on base; and (4) pediatric patients, who have the opportunity to stay in the hospital until they are ready for discharge to home. My patients are the only ones that we, as the staff, get to see through the entire course of their illness. We watch with heavy hearts as they suffer despite our best efforts, but then we rejoice when they improve and are able to go home to their families. As a result, we rally around these sick and injured Afghan children. Maybe we rally around them because they remind us of our own little ones at home; maybe we rally to temporarily forget the death and destruction facing us daily. In any case, it seems that we need them just as much as they need us. We treat their pain, help control their anxiety, and feed and bathe them, and in return they provide us with moments of hope, love, and happiness. And nothing could be more important than that!

Pizza Quest

This is me, a couple of days ago, standing in front of what is widely considered to be the best joint for Calzones and Strombolis on Victory Base Complex: North End Pizza.


The pizza is reportedly not even as good as Pizza Hut (and Pizza Hut is a lot closer to where I am), but I had a couple slices and it was pretty good for the middle of Iraq. The interesting part isn't really the pizza though - it's how my friend and I got to North End Pizza after 45 minutes, a lost hat, good directions we didn't follow, and a sigh of relief the place took credit cards ...

It all began with Sergeant First Class Joshua Crews asking me if I had gone to eat around lunchtime. If I hadn't, he said, he reserved the Ford Explorer for our section (there's an online calendar where you can check it out) and was headed for the "famous" North End Pizza. I had only seen the place one time, and I didn't even eat that time; one of the guys I replaced took me on a tour of all the small bazaar shops and secret hajji shacks where you can buy iPhone clones, copied movies, Asian soft drinks, and knock-off Nike shoes all under the same roof. I thought it would be a welcome change from the dining facility, even one like we have (see Autumn's post on Surf 'n Turf ...). Sergeant Crews asked if I knew where it was two seconds before I was going to ask him the same thing. Ugh. It couldn't be that hard to find, not the "famous" North End Pizza, could it?

We got in the truck and started out for Camp Liberty, connected to Camp Victory by a short road, all within the main wall for Victory Base Complex (or VBC for short). VBC is a consolidated base made out of six smaller bases and the Baghdad airport, after they grew so much it was easier just to join up their outer walls and make it one huge wall. We stowed our weapons in the back seat, and I rolled up my Boonie hat on my lap. In the five minutes or so it takes to get there, we concurred that we should start by the PX (department store on Army bases) since we both recalled it not being too far from there. There would also be lots of people to ask, of course.

5 minutes in: When we got to the four-way intersection by the PX parking lot, we picked a direction and went for it. 200 yards later, we seemed to be headed out to a wasteland of gravel and parked armored vehicles - no pizza joints here. As we turned around, we came upon a soldier and thought it would be prudent to ask for directions - my window wasn't working, so it must have looked strange to see an SUV roll up with the door opening! The soldier had just gotten here himself, and had never heard of the place. We recommended it, I closed the door and we moved on.

10 minutes in: Back to the 4-way intersection, we took the opposite direction we took before and traveled a mile or two. This time, we were well within habitable areas, with offices and soldiers walking everywhere (surrounded by concrete barriers, but recognizable nonetheless). Still, no restaurants. After a few minutes, we went back to the intersection and entered the PX parking lot. There was one more possible way from the 4-way intersection, but we asked for directions again, this time from a civilian who looked like he'd spent a couple tours over here already.

"North End Pizza? Of course! It's right over there - go back the way you just came, veer right, look for Pad 12, turn right off the road after the MWR (*Morale, Welfare, and Recreation) facility, follow the wall of trailers around to the motor pool, keep left, and you'll see the sign ..."

Whew! We thanked him and he wished us luck. I asked Sergeant Crews if he knew whether North End took credit cards. He didn't know, but only had them to pay with himself. Cash over here is difficult to get, and the military would really rather you pay with a declining balance card you get when you first arrive. Everyone took the declining balance card, but you were rolling the dice with credit and even cash. If we finally managed to find this place but they didn't take credit, it would be a half-hour round trip to the finance office to get cash or recharge our cards at a kiosk, which we both knew meant we were just going to drive to the dining facility and eat sliced melon.

25 minutes in: Ok, we had the directions up to "veer right", and I say that because when we went back this second time, we didn't do that. After bouncing around some more off road, we asked a THIRD time for directions, to which we got a fairly accurate response ... just as I checked for my hat. It was gone! Not good! You need a specific hat when you are in uniform, and there are people who walk around with nothing to do but write asinine policy, parking tickets, and correct you on your uniform. I thought about where it could have been lost; I know I rolled it up on my lap when I got in. Then, we went to the 4-way, then I ... opened ... the ... door ... . Sergeant Crews asked me if I wanted to go back, and I thought about it until he asked again. Hat first, or pizza first? On the one hand, we were almost there, but on the other, anyone could pick up that hat and I would be without one until I got somewhere I could buy one, and we were already going to be late getting back from lunch.

35 minutes in: We must have driven by 4 pads already, and woven through all of the possible streets, such as they were, looking for the phantom sign that we could use to navigate to the life-giving pizza. I regretted not going back for the hat a little, but I figured I risked losing it either way and there was no sense in getting yelled at for a stupid hat on an empty stomach. Besides, I'm a Chief Warrant Officer, and if you don't get yelled at for something like that at least once a week, you don't get promoted on time (or so our reputation would have you believe). We rounded a corner from one of the small side trails, looked up and saw it ... NORTH END PIZZA! There was a short moment of silence as we approached the sign, high enough above the concrete barriers to see from where we were, to check for the familiar Mastercard, Visa, or Amex logos ... and there they were, like three financial pepperoni squares on a delicious slice of victory (small V).

45 minutes in: "Sergeant Crews, would you mind taking my picture in front of the menu here? I want to post it on the blog ..."

We got it to go. A couple soldiers came and also placed an order, and we all stood around for another awkward silence as I got the "eye" from the senior sergeant in their group for standing around without a hat. The order came eventually, and when Sergeant Crews got his, we went back to the initial stop for directions to find a car where we pulled in. Ugh again. My hat was probably under a tire, if not halfway to Camp Victory, tumbling like a tumbleweed in Tombstone. I walked around to the front of the car to find the hat on the ground, against my expectations but making me feel pretty good about not detouring back and ending up being beaten by an obscure pizza joint!

1 hour in: We headed back and clocked in at around an hour and ten or an hour and fifteen minutes, still with uneaten food in hand. We got the "where the hell have you guys been??". I briefly considered telling the whole story, but we gave them a more believable one:

"We were bored of sitting in here, so we cruised around Camp Liberty, wasting gas and going to the hajji shops ..."

Gettin' some tail

(Now that I have your attention....!)

Tonight began with the weekly ritual of walking across base to the Aviation DFAC for Surf 'n' Turf. The first week, I got both the "surf" and the "turf", but the "turf" wasn't all that great, so I've been sticking to the "surf" since. Usually it's 2 crab legs and 2 lobster tails, some yams, and a small bowl of lobster bisque. Often I'll cap it all off with some Baskin Robbins ice cream (available at all of the DFACs on base), which is a treat as I try to maintain my girlish figure.

I left the DFAC a little earlier than the rest of my group in order to walk to the medevac hanger for their weekly lecture. (My flight surgeon friend brought me along last week, and the medics were so friendly that I got hooked.) Today I learned about the pre-hospital care of burn patients, which was very pertinent since I am still caring occasionally for the little girl in the ICU. There was also a talk about extrication of patients from the new armored military vehicles (HMMWV and MRAPs). It was eye-opening! I hadn't really considered the challenges inherent in designing a vehicle strong enough its occupants from IEDs, while at the same time allowing rescue squads to quickly extricate injured occupants.

Before or after the lecture, there's usually a patient presentation by one of the medics. It always details the timeline of the run, the challenges, the patient's status, and the ultimate outcome. (This is usually the most interesting part of the evening, since often I know the details of a patient's ICU course, but not the circumstances which landed them in the ICU.) A term I learned today is the "tail-to-tail" or "T2T" exchange, which literally means that two birds are placed tail-to-tail to transfer the patient from one bird onto the other.

So my evening was full of tails .... :-)

Father Time

Time is a strange and nebulous thing. Sometimes it passes slowly, and sometimes it
passes so quickly that I can hardly keep up. While on deployment, the
first week of training in Georgia and the first week in Bagram passed
with miserable slowness. Once my feet were wet in the clinic and ICU, though,
time began to accelerate and accelerate such that I can hardly believe I
have already been here three weeks!

The act of telling time in a war zone is somewhat nontraditional. For one thing,
there are two (or three, or four) sets of clocks in most rooms. One is
inevitably set to "zulu" time, and in fact all of our official
correspondence - including patient records - is communicated in zulu
time. The other clocks tells local time (which is zulu plus 4.5 hours
... and whoever decided that it would be a good idea to add
four-and-a-HALF hours to standard time must have been smoking crack).
The third or fourth clock may be Iraq time or eastern time depending on
the tendencies and desires of the occupants.

When in clinic, I pay attention to only three times: (1) 0700 when I
report to the clinic for duty; (2) 1200 when the lunch hour starts; and
(3) 1700 when the clinic closes. There are very few other times of
significance; when I get hungry, I eat, and when I get tired, I sleep.
It's just that simple.

Obviously the ICU is a bit different. I really only care about 2 times: (1) 0630 when bedside rounds begin, and (2) the time when my replacement is supposed to arrive. Other than that, I go to nut med (nutritional medicine) when I'm hungry, I sleep on the call room sofas when I'm tired, I watch movies or check email in the "doc box" when I need to. It's also very simple.

Since every day is (basically) like the next, it's sometimes hard to
keep track of the day of the week or the week of the month. If I didn't
have to write the date on the patient sick slips or my ICU orders, I would probably never know the date! Without looking at a calendar, though, there are several
ways to monitor the passage of time and keep track of how long I've been
here (and, more importantly, how much longer I will be here). For
example:

- Surf 'n' Turf dinner is every Friday at the DFAC; I know I've been
here three weeks since I've had crab and lobster three times. (NOT A JOKE! We really do have steak, crab, lobster, fried shrimp, crab cakes, gumbo, and lobster bisque every Friday. We even trek all the way across the base to the "Aviation DFAC" since they have the best Surf 'n' Turf around!)

- Mondays are the day for "malaria" and for "mask". Everyone in
Afghanistan should take malaria pills, and some people take them weekly.
It's easy to figure out how many weeks left on deployment by counting
remaining pills, or qualitatively by seeing the bottle become more and more empty. We also have to check our gas mask and its accoutrements every Monday and record the preventative maintenance
undertaken. You know you've been here a long time when the preventative
maintenance flowsheet is full.

- Similarly, I have a $0.99 Wal-Mart standard medication holder which holds 28 days of medication. Every time I fill it, I know another month has passed. I just re-filled it for the first time yesterday, which means that today is day 30 of deployment.

- My roommmates and I have barracks maintenance (affectionately termed
"Cinderella duty") every 9 days; when I see the magnetic sign on my door
in the morning, I know another 9 days have passed.

- For me, Thursdays are a special day since I get to skype with Matthew.
My mom and dad care for him on Thursdays, and when he's at their house,
we try to talk, sing, play itsy-bitsy spider and pat-a-cake, and
generally spend some time together. I look forward to Thursdays for
that reason, so every time a Thursday rolls around and I talk with Matt,
I know another week has passed. (By the way, Charles and Shannon are
helping to get skype set up in Glendora so that Matt and I can talk more
often. Now if we could just get James to skype ....)

So here's to Father Time, whether he lives in London, Baghdad, Bagram, or Glendora. :-) Wherever he is, I hope that he continues to make time fly!

Tolteca Fire

Dear Autumn & James:

Bad News: It is my sad and solemn duty to inform you that an industrial fire started within your beloved restaurant and the building has been rendered unusable. This sad news is compounded by the fact that the owners lacked the appropriate insurance. In these economic times, they don't intend on rebuilding. The city is in mourning and declaring that a landmark has been lost. I will attempt to save you a piece of the rubble in remembrance.

Good News: Autumn, you will never have to tolerate another meal at James' most favored restaurant and you can do so without guilt.

Better News: James, breathe. I am just kidding. Breathe. Breathe deep. The restaurant is still standing. I am just kidding!

Best News: I have devised a way to get you some real Tolteca salsa in Iraq - canning the stuff. Now, I just need to learn how to actually do it! Will start to work on this project ASAP.

Love - Tonya

James' Zen Life

The following is a reproduction of Tonya's letter to James in November of 2008. I first read it via email while awaiting a flight in the Reno airport, and it was hilarious then. Now that I am deployed, it is even funnier!

Zen is the art of living in the present for there is no past and the future is undetermined. It is a representative ideology that encourages living in the moment. It is a great concept in theory but hard to stomach in reality. Thought that I would resend an updated version of this information just as a reminder of the current situation. This is a short list of zen examples that prove my perspective.

Past: Consuming the beer of the month was necessity.

Present: Babywipes are a good trade for beer-ration coupons.

Future: You will ultimately have to return to the world of babywipes and diapers. You have no hope of missing the potty training phase.

Past: The ultimate travesty in life is that I have been to Disneyland no less than 50 times and have only had my picture taken with Mickey Mouse once.

Present: Mickey Mouse is the universal symbol used by for target practice in your area of the world.

Future: Disneyland is where you go to live in fantasyland and forget your last tour of duty. Live like prince charming and eat junk food all day.

Past: "Duck and Cover" are valid safety instructions for an earthquake. (Note: For native Californians, the correct action during an earthquake is to stop what you are doing, look annoyed until the shaking stops and then resume the task at hand. Should an earthquake happen at night, decline the option of jumping out of bed, and be annoyed until the shaking stops. Then roll over and go back to sleep.)

Present: The correct Army interpretation of "Duck and Cover" is to really duck, cover, crawl into the fetal position and hold your breath until the dust settles.

Future: Return on a permanent basis to California and be annoyed by earthquakes like the rest of us.

Past: Getting updates on Middle East conflict used to be sitting on the couch with MSN while cursing the "barista" for having added whole milk to a venti sugar-free, soy, vanilla bean, extra-blended, no whip frapp.

Present: The latest information comes from looking out your office window for troop movement.

Future: Watching some journalist selling his book on military life in Iraq after spending two weeks in the "field" while staying at the Hilton and you know that he is making millions from it.

Past: "Man Room" was a term of endearment for the black pit for all things that your wife wants to throw away. It's only every several years that a complete cleaning must be done – even if you are not there to do it.

Present: "Man Room" is now defined as the men's barracks. While the traditional man room may be messy and disorganized for months or years at a time with only mild wifely nagging, barracks come fully equipped with kind daily reminders about the virtues of organization and cleanliness delivered by a loving drill sergeant.

Future: Coming home to find that the "Man Room" has been converted into a nursery. (Sorry, this should have gone under the past section. Let me revise my statement: Coming home to find that the room has been converted into a pink princess nursery complete with lace curtains and tea party table.)

Past: What shoe symbol is really religious in nature? Nike, the goddess of war, the protector of suffering soldiers and represented by the "swoop" symbol. It was the answer to the million-dollar question last year. (Sorry, that question was fairly simple and not worth a million bucks.)

Present: Nike is now the protector of human feet from burning desert sand during a casual morning jog of 10 miles singing Chariots of Fire. Don't get me wrong – Nike is a step up. You could be doing it in combat boots.

Future: When you don't run well on the treadmill at the local, gym you can loudly blame your Nike shoes when you are too winded to continue.

Past: Your old cell phone was pocket-size and GPS was a cool tool that only costs $30 a month and gives untold bragging rights.

Present: Now, cell phones are worn as a 50-pound backpack. Military GPS is more accurate than directions like: cross four sand dunes to the south. Come to the mirage and make a left. Go another seven dunes to the burned-out bunker, veer left until you reach the oasis. Better yet – there is no cost to this type of GPS unless you count the cost of building and launching a telecommunications satellite.

Future: The cell phone rings just as you are leaving work with the request to run just one little errand on your way home. (My husband loves this one. But now instead of calling him with my annoyance, I just text him. This new strategy saves me the step of hearing "yes, dear.")

Past: Mail was previously a source of dread. Bills and bad news are hand delivered daily to a private mailbox where you can't deny that they are yours.

Present: Sole source of contact with the outside world is mail. Any piece of mail is better than none. Good news or bad news – it's irrelevant. Each letter must be read over and over. To be shared with any passerby. Kinder-art now passes for legitimate communication. It's better than most other types of mail: you can sit for hours staring at the abstract objects trying to figure out what a five-year old was thinking calling this green line an alien monster.

Future: Returning to the daily grid of paying bills in a private mailbox.

Past: Elegant dinner conversation included discussions of tex-mex vs. Baja Mexican food, whether Creole is better than southern and should sake be served hot or cold. This was all done using leather-backed chairs in an air conditioned restaurant with a waiter to fill the glass after every sip.

Present: Standing in the chow line and being thankful that powdered eggs are not on the menu. But better, standing in the chow line and knowing that the alternative is an MRE. MRE translates into Meals Refused by Everyone. Yes, the military knows all about the jokes related to MREs. How do they retaliate? Add Tabasco to every package: have a stomachache from hunger or have a stomachache from Tabasco. Army cooks will leave the final decision to you.

Future: Stock-up on MREs. Home cooked meals are over-rated from a wifely perspective, especially when you have kids. (All humor aside, take my advice on this one. My husband has become a great cook because his only alternatives were starvation, takeout or eating chicken nuggets with yogurt and applesauce every night. I eat lots better since his new skill acquisition. Now, if I could just convince him that doing dishes was part of the meal preparation process.)

Past: The question to paint walls beige, cream, vanilla, camel or mocha was relevant.

Present: Everything now comes in Army green and for a little variety, brown.

Future: Beige, cream, vanilla, camel or mocha? Make a decision. It will only take three trial cans of paint.

P.S The above text is strictly a personal perspective on life changes and provided solely for my amusement. If the Army wanted for you, personally, to have a perspective, they would have already issued it.

Matt Attack, itemized

Tonya and the girls (and Shannon when she can) have been visiting with Matt and Loretta on Tuesdays, when their schedule is less full. Shannon’s post with the pictures of the “third meeting” was great! I recently received this email from Tonya, with some of my comments and thoughts inserted in plain type:

Thought that I would give you an update on our weekly Tuesday play-date in the long, itemized form.


On the first attempt, there was very little interaction between the kids. Kate was really thrilled to be able to pull the wagon with all the stuff but Matt was less than thrilled at being pulled by an erratic five-year old. Ultimately, both did fine and Kate learned an essential skill. Both girls knew what was expected and Matt was less resistant to their attempts to help. Kate was much more encouraging with helping Matt complete some of the simpler pieces of equipment. Ashley and Matt were encouraged to parallel play on several activities. The real problem is the developmental stages. Kate wanted the advanced equipment. Ashley wanted the climbing toys and Matt wanted to walk through the park. Some observations from our visit:

1. Matt is gaining gross motor skills. Ability to manage uneven surfaces is improving. As is the ability to walk on uneven surfaces while managing a hand-eye task.

2. He still unsafe on stairs and slides, even the lowest ones. We actively worked on the turn-around and go backwards technique. I must admit that he was irritated with me over not holding him by the hand and letting him walk up and down. (Loretta was likely more irritated.) The solution was simple: had Ash model that behavior and Kate provide encouragement from the top of the equipment. When he did not remember to crawl, I removed him from stairs and we started at the bottom again. Noticed later that Loretta was modeling the techniques that Matt and I were working on. Feel much safer now. Although there are no stairs in Glendora, there are several flights here and in Upland. No longer have safety gates in place.



The second visit was shorter but more productive (Tonya is the only person in the world who could call a play date 'productive' and get away with it!):

1. I brought Matt some sand toys to use in the tree bark. This proved to be a huge success. He said "this" when presented with the bag of toys. I translated the word to mean "what is this?" Saw this as a huge breakthrough because it opens the communication to verbal item identification. (I have been somewhat concerned about his language development, but probably am just being an overbearing pediatrician mom. I am very glad to hear that he is beginning to say some words.)

2. He was working on fill and dump .... Ashley's hair was the object of his affectionate dumping. It allowed the three kids (and every other kid at the park) to gather in one place. We worked on trade and share. Not that I really expected him to get this concept but it was a good place to start and good reinforcement for Ashley. She is having some evidence of sibling rivalry, which I consider a good thing.

3. We also worked on the safe climbing skills again with some marked improvement.

4. Loretta seemed more comfortable with the whole process even allowing the girls to pull the wagon. Encouraged Loretta to interact with girls more so that I could interact with Matt more. Better sharing of workload. Made it clear to Loretta that boundary setting with girls is acceptable and encouraged. Wanted for her to feel more comfortable interacting with all three kids as a unit because I already had a plan for the third meeting. (Of course she had a plan! This is my sister we're talking about!)



The third meeting each of the kids had a great time:

1. Thank god for Shannon's attendance. So helpful at providing a third set of eyes and a sense of balance to the process. Girls love both Shannon and Zach.

2. Zach is standing now and getting up the courage to take his first step. Kate unsuccessfully attempted to help him...he took her inexperienced assistance in stride. Wish that I had my camera so you could see Kate pushing Zach in the swing (Take the camera next time for goodness sakes!). Again he took her in stride. I was playing with Matt in the next swing and Kate was attempting to imitate the same games with Zach.

3. Brought the sand toys again and all the kids had a great time playing together. Stressed trade and share. Worked on fill and dump. This was actually fun to watch. Loved the fact that each of the four kids were at the same place at the same time. Yes, each was doing their own thing but somehow together. Kate was baking bark cakes. Ashley was digging and watering a pretend garden in the "bark beds". Matt was working on shovel, fill and pour. Zach was providing the music with banging the tools.

4. Got smart this time and encouraged group snack time. Brought rice puff snacks for the little ones. Hand-fed Matt one piece at a time. He could only get the next piece by saying "more". He loved the snacks so much that we got "mo" for the word "more". (That's my boy!)

5. Matt spent a good portion of time wandering through the park so we turned it into a game. Ashley and I played peek-a-boo from behind the tree. He soon got the idea and then ran away, with immediate stop and giggles. This of course leads to a game of tag. Girls had a wonderful time chasing and I would grab him and let him fly through the air which he really loved. Kate tried it and they both landed in a heap on the ground. It was too funny.

6. Both Matt and Zach loved the swing games. I played the basics with Matt (up/down, got your feet, etc). It was too cute watching Kate trying to do the same thing with Zach in the next swing. Wish that I had a video camera. (I left a video camera at mom's house for use while I'm deployed; it is very easy to use and requires only the USB-to-USB cable for download [the same one the Nikon camera uses]. Take it with you next time!)



Loretta, Shannon and I were talking about next week. I think that we are going to McDonald's Playplace. It will immediately provide for longer play-dates because no one is rushing off to get lunch. Scheduling and long travel time is a huge issue considering that it concludes 3 families and four sets of schedules. Anything that we can do to increase the actual amount of playtime needs to be done. It's an awful long way for Shannon and I to go to spend just an hour or two. (Absolutely ... but I can't tell you how much I appreciate your willingness to make the trek!) Additionally, I found that Matt's outside days are somewhat limited to strolls with Frank in the stroller and going to the park 2-3 times per day. I would like us to take on events that encourage other types of activities. I left it up to Loretta whether she wants to come or stay. She will be letting me know but does not seem exactly comfortable with the plan but I believe that we need to move forward beyond each of our comfort zones. I know that I have Shannon's support and I am certain that we can still have a great time with all four kids should Loretta choose not to attend. Shannon is looking into other types of community-based events in Glendora, Upland and Corona. I hope that we will be able to schedule some of these quickly.


Shannon also responded with some thoughts of her own about the play dates:

My two cents (not in the long, itemized form):

It has really been beneficial for me to see all the stages of a child's growth from these 4 kids. Its interesting how different and/or how much they've learned between each stage. Ashley is only a year (?) older than Matt but the age difference is amazing. And I must say, I've appreciated Tonya's attention to manners and learning. In such a short time, she got Matt to make a distinct "mo" sound for more food. The wonders that food deprivation provides, besides the fact that food is a big motivator for Matt! (Like father, like son.) Tonya, hope you're ready for Zach next - he thinks you're his aunt too now!



I do have pictures of the park trip and will post on the blog later (actually already posted!). Matt has instantly bonded with his aunt. He ran to her when she was playing tag. Unfortunately, my hands were full of Zach most of the day but Tonya took the baby and let me get my cheekfeast. It's great that the girls are so independent that even they were able to supervise Zach while I was able to bond with Matt. Again, since my hands are so full I think its best for us to be in an enclosed play area - unless Tonya is around, the park can be difficult for me in terms of safety & supervision. (McDonald's should work fine - when I was home, my best friend, Krysten, and I met there to let her two kids and my one kid play, and it worked out wonderfully.)



It is such a comfort to know that Matt is surrounded by so much love and care. There's Aunt Tonya, who is always looking for an educational bent for every activity, and Aunt Shannon, who has her hands full and her heart in the right place. Uncle Chuck's role, of course, is to introduce the sins of the world, from electronics to beer to Tolteca (as a stand-in of sorts for James). There's Grandpa, who attempts to think what Matt is thinking and anticipate his next move, and the girls, who make sure to take care of him like a little brother. There's also Grandma and Papa, who aren't the typical grandparents since they actually have rules and boundaries for the active little boy. And, of course, there's Loretta, the saint of all saints, who not only loves Matt as much as anyone possibly could, but who has sacrificed so much for our family. I'm not sure where James, Matt, and I got so lucky, but God was obviously smiling down on us.

Matt Attack

Usually its only "Zach Attack" but "Matt Attack" is much more fitting in this case... Here are pictures of his cousins (and one Asian girl Ashley befriended on the playground) tackling and tickling Matt.




We all had a great time at the Finkbiner Park that day. Kaitlin and Ashley taught the boys to make bark pies (and also how to eat them - oops!). Matt learned to climb the stairs at the playground. Zach is learning to walk, with the girls help of course. Mainly this consists of him being pulled around by them. And Aunt Tonya worked with Matt so he is now making a distinct "mo" sound when requesting "more" food. Then to top it all off we all enjoyed the swings. Nice day and nice weather. Can't help but brag about the weather - what's it like in Afghanistan & Iraq???

Working Hard

While Autumn is working hard stabilizing this young girl in ICU (we're praying for her) and James is "working hard" in Iraq jogging and getting his free t-shirt, Loretta sure is working hard taking care of Matt - and Matt is working on eating! Seems like every time I see that kid he is either eating or growing! Here are a few of his latest pictures eating. And you'll notice he has eaten so much he's worn himself out and just had to take a nap in the high chair no less. Maybe this should have been my "Like Father, Like Son" post?! I have seen James and Chuck gorge themselves on Tolteca... As a matter of fact, let's call this "Like Uncle, Like Nephew"

Fear is the best motivator

Not much time to write tonight ..... I will be on call for pediatrics tomorrow, and I just found out that there is a very unstable 8-year old girl in the ICU. She has second- and third-degree burns to approximately 40% of her skin plus a myriad of other problems. The Air Force pediatrician assigned to the hospital will take care of her overnight, which will require hourly blood draws and virtually constant "tweaking" of her medications and ventilator. In the morning, I will take over for him for 12-24 hours so that he can get some sleep. I haven't cared for any PICU patients in nearly a year, and I've never cared for a burn patient before, so I must admit that I'm a little scared. This is why I say that I can't expound too much on my day or my thoughts about this patient .... I have a lot of studying to do before morning!!

Gate River Run 15k

Well, there are plenty of better ways to start a day than walking to a bus stop in intermittent pouring rain at 5:45 AM, especially when the bus is taking you to where you will run 9.3 miles!

I got up this morning to the sound of rain roaring on the tin roof of my trailer, moments before the alarm went off. My roommate, awake from the noise and never without a pithy comment, wondered aloud if the race would still be run. Even if there was a chance of it being run, I had to go - the first 300 finishers got a free T-shirt ... you can't turn down a F-R-E-E T-shirt! I got a raincoat and headed out.

At the bus stop, there were only around half of the people from my unit that signed up to run. Not a good sign. After confirming with the race organizers (some were at the same stop) that the race was still on, we passed the time thinking of ways to remind our friends how wimpy they were to let a little rain turn them away. I think it's somehow going to involve the T-shirt and some gloating, but there's always superimposing people's heads on pictures of turtles and sloths.

The beginning of the race was at a favorite starting point for races on Victory Base - a Z-shaped lake that has a 5k perimeter. This race actually ran on one side of the lake to begin with, then the other three at the end - 5k and 10k races aren't too hard to hold on base, but 15k required a creative route. Unfortunately for us, most of the area around this side of the lake was plain dirt, with a really fine and dessicated top layer of dust that turned into a VERY foul mud by the time we got there (think peanut butter, stickiness and all). It didn't really rain on us that much, but the damage was done to the unpaved surfaces, and we all waded through it to get race numbers and some last sips of water. When the race announcer told us some of the course would be unpaved, you could hear the collective groan - we were going to be slimed just by running on the roads, let alone through unimproved goat paths. I guess they had to get 15k somehow.

I started in the back, letting the herd pull ahead before working my way forward - there were more than 300 people here, and I just had to beat that 300th person to get my prize. It was nasty the whole way, especially as I passed people (we would splash the more watery sludge on each other), but it was only for a moment each time, and it wasn't enough to get the inside of my shoes wet. We ran around smaller lakes than the Z-shaped lake, over bridges, and even around what's known as "Signal Hill", the choice hill for antennas (we have a couple of ours up there ... it's a good thing we didn't have to run UP the hill). As we came around the end, I jogged in at 1:14:35 - about 8:00 per mile, just like I'd been running on the treadmill since I got back from LA.

I felt the excitement as one of the volunteers at the finish line handed me my voucher for a T-shirt - there were only 300 of these pieces of paper to be had, and I was going to redeem mine without any delay. I got to the table, and ...

"Sorry sir, we only have extra large size ..."

You have got to be kidding me! I smoked all those people over the course of an hour of running and all there was left was extra large?? I looked around and it didn't seem like that many people had finished, so I asked how they could have run out so soon - apparently, the T-shirts are the actual T-shirts given to finishers of the Jacksonville Gate River Run 15k, the namesake of this run and the US National 15k Championship, which is being held today in Jacksonville, FL in about 5 hours. The race organizers in Iraq, the 146th Expeditionary Signal Battalion, built this race to mirror the one they participate in back home (newpaper article here), and the race organizers in the US pitched in official race numbers and T-shirts! Wow.

I took my extra large and had to hand it to the 146th; just getting all the stars to align for this - in Iraq - was a feat, and I was glad I didn't roll over in bed when I heard the rain. After all, what's a little rain when a free T-shirt is at stake?

(I'll have pictures from the Public Affairs folks in a few days. They were all over the course, so there's bound to be one or two of me, plus my unit's group photo at the end).

Like Father, Like Son?

Just so James doesn't feel left out, I've got a quick antecdote for him about his son...

Last week we went to the apartment to visit Matt. While there Loretta asked Chuck to fix the television. Turns out Matt got ahold of the remote control and simultaneously pressed buttons on the television. The picture had been snowy for a few days as Loretta was at a loss to fix it. Chuck quickly put the tv back on channel 3 and tuned the satellite box. Seems Matt likes to tinker with electronics and generally push buttons. Now we know where he got that from...

I think Uncle Chuck is proud of his nephew too. With pride he walked me through the steps of what buttons Matt must have attacked - and there were many.

Now we're waiting to see what Matt will get into next.

Nap Time (Like Mother Like Son)

I couldn't help but post today after reading Autumn's debate about getting out of bed. Seems like her son really takes after her. I'm not sure though if Matt was as eloquent in his reasoning about leaving the bed...

1. The bed is warm
2. Waking up means getting dressed
3. When venturing outside he'll need the diaper bag and all the necessary gear and supplies
4. Leaving the crib means getting a diaper change
5. There are a few funny smells inside the crib - usually these are coming from Matt though.

Thus, he ultimately decides to get up and of course go to the dining hall, excuse me kitchen. The high chair is Matt's second favorite place besides the bed.

As a new mom myself, I must admit I'm jealous of how well Matt takes naps and sleeps through the night. But now I know where he gets it. Sorry Autumn, I just couldn't help myself today.

From everything that I've gathered from all of Matt's caretakers he has been thriving in his new digs in Glendora despite of course the absence of mom and dad. And please no offense to mom and dad, I think Matt is really beginning to enjoy himself here. I heard that Matt is especially enjoying his time with Grandma. He looks forward to her visits and why not, he IS the first grandson. I can only imagine what he gets away with! Although I doubt Grandma and Grandpa Rabe let him wreak havoc.

Matt is very well loved by his cousins, Kaitlin and Ashley. Aunt Tonya said that they have gone to the park multiple times and the girls dote on him like a little brother. These girls have the best manners I've ever seen. Maybe Matt's first word will be "please"? A mother can only hope... :)

Hugs and kisses to mom and dad from Matt.

Impediments to going outside

Today I was allowed to leave work a little early, and after finishing up some paperwork, I went back to my room for a little time to myself. Since privacy is limited with three roommates, I figured I would take advantage of the quiet time in my room. I did some online surfing, some reading, and some napping, and awoke at around 7 pm when one of my roommates came back from work. I found myself nearly paralyzed in bed under my electric blanket, telling myself that I needed to get up and do something, but yet not able to do so. There were quite a few impediments to my getting out of bed and venturing outside:

(1) My bed is warm. The dorms are warm. Outside is often not.
(2) Leaving the dorm means getting into full uniform, which means no crocs or hair below the collar. It often means putting on boots, which irritate my skin and take a while to lace up.
(3) It's dusty and dirty outside all the time, no matter if you're near the road or flight line or not.
(4) My bed feels clean. Anywhere else does not.
(5) Whenever I leave the dorms, I have to take my weapon with me. It's like an extra appendage here, and must be attached to me except when performing physical training or personal hygiene.
(6) There's a lot of other stuff to remember to bring when venturing outside the dorms, to include ID tags, military ID, hospital ID, reflective belt, magazines and ammunition, etc. When lacking one of these items, someone is bound to stop me to review my transgressions. In the case of the reflective belt, the rumor is that the military police can either make and arrest or issue a $75 ticket!
(7) When not close to my room, I run the risk of an "amber alert" in which all personnel are required to report to their place of duty with their body armor, kevlar helmet, weapon, ammunition, and first aid kit for accountability. I was across base when this happened last week and had to rush back to the hospital, where I waited for a few hours before the "all clear" signal was given.
(8) There are few funny smells inside the dorm. Outside funny smells - latrines, old men, etc - are prevalent.

So is the answer to stay in my room - or at the very minimum in the dorm - during all non-work hours? I suppose this would be possible if I stocked my room with food and water (and since I don't have a frig, the food would have to be non-perishable). After all, my room is equipped with heat, electricity, internet (with skype), an electric blanket, and other niceties. But fact of the matter is that it would be difficult to spend half my day in the hospital and half my day in my room. It would be boring, not very physically active, and wouldn't contain much human contact. No, that shouldn't be my MO while here in Bagram. But I am learning that there will be some days when I don't feel like being social, don't feel like going to lunch with the clinic staff, don't feel like doing physical training. And that's OK, as long as the sloth doesn't last more than a day or two and doesn't affect my ability to treat patients.

Ultimately, I pulled myself out of bed this evening, got in the shower, and made the 5-min trek to the DFAC for dinner, getting there just before it closed. It might be difficult to sleep tonight, but at least I'm clean, full, and well-rested. :-)

Vitamin K

Today was the perfect day to go outside and get a fake tan of dust: we had high winds, and along with it, the ubiquitous fog of dust.

I wish I could capture it in a picture, but it really doesn't come out too well. The pictures that I thought would show the true nature of the dust come out looking like I took them in a cloud. The ones that show a gradient of visibility, fading into nothing after about 200 feet, end up looking like regular fog. Then, of course, there's no way to take a panoramic picture without some fancy Photoshop work, so here I am describing it to you. The high winds didn't help the communications links we were installing, though everything held up remarkably well.

I remember reading some literature in high school about the Dust Bowl era, and how the dust was affectionately called "Vitamin K" in one of the stories (it seemed to "season everything" including food). Those stories had at least a small feel of desperation and of resignation, they were set in hard times, and of course, the people in the story didn't give up despite their circumstances - that sounds just like this place! I remember dust in much happier times actually, namely trips to Joshua Tree National Monument, living in Cottonwood, AZ for a year, running in the hills of Daegu, ROK (South Korea), and even just the hills behind my high school in Claremont, CA.

In the time since I was in my hooch this morning, a thin layer of dust crept in and now coats everything, including the keys on the keyboard; in the time since I started typing this, it's begun to pour rain outside. Dust + rain = sludge ... ugh. Well, things could always be worse, so I better send this before the power goes out!

Wild Goose Chase

They say the Army is a very small world, but I didn't really believe it until I ran into two friends on a base 7500 miles from home!

The first, Cindy, is actually the sister of a medical school friend of mine, and after a few years in medical school, she became a good friend of mine as well. She, too, was in medical school at USUHS a few years behind me, but decided that medicine might not be the best thing for her, so now she is the executive officer for a medical service corps company out of Jalalabad, Afghanistan. She and I ran into each other randomly at the hospital on the first day that I arrived, and I literally didn't recognize her! She is no longer bespectacled, and her hair is much shorter than I remember a few years ago. She will be returning to her post in J-bad in a few days.

The other friend is Elisa, a West Point graduate who attended medical school with me. She got married to another Army officer at West Point in 2004, and James, my mom, and I took a special trip to New York to attend the wedding. James was even in the saber arch after the ceremony! She also pursued a residency in pediatrics, and moved to Tacoma, Washington, upon completion of medical school. She had a son about the same time as I did, and deployed to Bagram as a flight surgeon when her son was less than a year old (so she understands just how difficult separation from a small child can be). She has been here for about 3 months and will "redeploy" (i.e. return to the states) in December. Although I knew she was in Afghanistan, I had no idea that she was stationed at Bagram until I ran into her walking down the base's main drag on the day I arrived!

Needless to say, I am super excited about running into these two long-lost friends, and especially thrilled that one of them (Elisa) will be just down the street for the duration of my deployment. We had decided to meet for dinner before Cindy returns to Jalalabad in a few days, and although we knew that Elisa would be on call tonight, we still figured that dinner would work out. Cindy and I met at the PX (a little late, but we got there!), and waited for Elisa for a few minutes. Figuring that she might be at her unit, we dropped by her troop medical clinic (TMC) and learned that she was at the hospital ER with one of her soldiers. We decided to try to find her there, and learned from one of the nurses that she had "just" walked out of the ER as we arrived! By this time, Cindy and I realized that we were on a wild goose chase, and elected to leave a message at Elisa's TMC letting her know that we were headed to Dragon DFAC for dinner. A bit dejected, we went to the DFAC and selected our meals. Then, out of nowhere, Elisa appeared! She had just left the ER and come to the DFAC for a bite to eat, but she had not received the message that we had left for her. It was pure luck that we ran into her! She didn't have long to chat (she had to get back to her unit) but we agreed to reschedule our dinner date for tomorrow, when our committments will be less taxing. :-) I can't wait!!

My first package!!

I have now been in Bagram for three action-packed days, and I am feeling quite overwhelmed. I did all my administrative inprocessing on the day I arrived, and the second day was spent in training. I haven't been able to sleep well since arriving (thank you, jet lag), so the days have seemed quite long. Today was the longest and most overwhelming of the bunch, as I spent most of the day getting to know the clinical capabilities of Craig Joint Theater Hospital (CJTH). Stateside, most hospitals have similar capabilities; at least, all hospitals have basic lab, pharmacy, and radiology no matter the location. Here we have most of these resources, although at the outside forward operating bases (aka FOBs) there may be none of these resources; for example, at Camp Eggars in Kabul (a FOB also staffed by my unit, the 602d ASMC), there is only very basic lab capability, no radiology, and very very little pharmacy. But today I tried to meet all the doctors, learn my way around the hospital, and figure out where I will be most useful. I also had to get trained on the electronic patient record system used here in theater, which fortunately bears many similarities to the system used in the states. In my 2.5 days of time at Bagram, I have learned a lot of logistics, and tomorrow I will begin to see patients and therefore learn some adult medicine.

Shortly after I arrived on Monday, my first package arrived (it was sent USPS Priority Mail and postmarked Feb 23 and arrived Mar 3 - for a total mail time of 9 days). I was so excited! It was from Liz and Jon Colleran, our good friends from college. They sent me some 'girly' stuff - like lotions, face wash - as well as magazines, candy, and a card. The coolest part of the gift was pictures from the last 10 years of our lives, which brought back good memories of times back in the states. There were pictures of Jon's parents' beachhouse (where many a beer was drank), of skydiving together, of the RV trip taken last summer, & of their visit to Maryland as Matt's first visitors. :-) Liz and Jon have been around for so many of the big things that have happened in our lives; for example, they were at our wedding(s), and some of you may remember that they flew down from the Bay Area specifically to attend Matt's California baby shower in October of 2007. We have been very fortunate to have such great long-term friends!!!

Arrival in Bagram

I have new respect for commercial air in the states. Nothing could possibly be worse than 4 hours in the back of a C-17! :-/

I arrived around 5 this morning in Bagram and have spent my morning inprocessing the hospital. The hospital has everything I could possibly need, from a 24-hour dining facility to washers/dryers to phones to a reading library. I ran into two people I knew: a pediatrician (the only one here) who was a fellow when I was a resident, and the sister of one of my friends from medical school. The Army is really a small place!

I haven't been able to get into my barracks yet, but it appears that I will be assigned into the indoor barracks right next to the hospital. I'm told there are 4 to a room, with a bathroom down the hall, and wired internet (for a fee of course). There is a very large and scrumptuous dining facility near the hospital as well; I enjoyed a breakfast of french toast, coffee cake, kiwi and pineapple this morning! (I'm going to have to find the gym sometime very soon with that type of buffet at every meal!) Looking at the map, I learned that there are a number of PXs, fast food, several gyms, a USO, and a post office within walking distance. And if I get lazy and don't want to walk, there is also a post shuttle. So far, I really can't complain .... there are soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan that are far far FAR worse off than I will be.

Tomorrow's plan: IED training. Again. I'll let you know how it goes .....

The Twilight Zone

It was another 7-hour flight from Shannon to Kuwait City, followed by an hour's bus ride to Ali Al Salem. The airport is surrounded by four - four! - barbed-wire fences, and although we were travelling in luxury coach buses, we had an armed convoy. The ensuing few hours were pure chaos as only the Army can create; we had briefings, baggage unload, and more briefings. Because I'm headed to Afghanistan as a single replacement, I am now on a stand-by (space-R in military-speak) list for Bagram. There are three flights tomorrow, and it seems that I will likely get on one of them.

Walking around Ali Al Salem, I feel like I'm in the twilight zone. I have seen these "tent cities" on CNN and the like (and even walked through one at McGregor Range in New Mexico when James was living there), but seeing it in person is bizarre. There are literally hundreds of tents set up dress-right-dress on the desert sand, with latrines and showers on two sides of the compound. The accoutrements are quite good - McDonald's, internet (albeit not wi-fi ...), KFC, a rug shop, two gyms, a Starbucks equivalent - but it gives me an strange feeling that even at 2 in the morning local time, this place is absolutely bustling. This base is clearly a 24/7 operation, as I imagine most of the operations in theater are. And considering that my body has no circadian rhythm at this time, the full-bore operations at 0200 are perfectly OK.

So now I get to sit in the "terminal" (which, by the way, bears no likeness to the traditional aiport terminals I am used to - see picture) for the next 24-48 hours until my name is called to board the aircraft. (I turned down the opportunity to sleep in a tent - I didn't want to move my 250+ pounds of equipment back and forth every day while awaiting the flight.) Earlier in the night, I pulled my body armor and kevlar helmet out of my duffel bag, and it sits near my leather recliner in the terminal. I've staked out my place - and now it's time to wait.

Back on line, back on duty

Wow, what a change in the blog since I last checked in!! I've been offline for a while, not just because I am lazy and let Autumn post updates while I was on R&R in LA, but even after the traveling, I just didn't call, didn't write, didn't post ... I didn't even write my customary letter/postcard/something to Kaitlin and Ashley for a couple days. I guess it's just my nature to do that.

I'm back to work again, coming off about a week of night shifts to attend some training given by people who only work at night. These guys do computer defense work, and a lot of their techniques use a lot of network bandwidth, making them really unpopular during the day. At night, even in a place that is 24x7, activity decreases, so these guys can work unencumbered. They train us on the actual equipment and procedures they use, so it only follows they would do it at night too. I previously was day shift, so I started acclimating myself to days here (nights in LA), only to go back to nights here, and tomorrow will be a day shift. Ugh. Good training though!

The trip over here was a miserable one, even compared to the couple of times I had done it before. I was a little sick starting the day before I left LA, and it didn't help that I was stuck in Kuwait an extra day. I did not realize how quickly dust storms come up and how much they impact things, but I walked into the movie/board game/cushy couch tent in Kuwait at 10 AM, and by noon it was like a blizzard of sand outside. Passengers for my flight were supposed to gather at 3 PM, which we did, and we got delayed until about 7 PM, eventually loading up onto a C-130 and taking off for Baghdad. There isn't an intercom on a C-130 like a commercial airliner, but when the hour and fifteen minute flight was still in the air at 2 hours, then 3 hours, we all put it together: we couldn't land. We finally landed, and I remarked to someone next to me, "hey, the only thing that could make this worse is if we turned around and went back to Kuwait!", to which he replied, "Chief ... we ARE in Kuwait." Two hours later, we were back at the tents with instructions to show up the same time the next day for another attempt. The dust had died down by then, and there wasn't a problem with that flight.

I find myself not really having the heart to work anymore. It's not that I don't think it's important, but I am exceedingly sad to have left LA. It was a great two weeks - seeing Loretta, Matt and Autumn every day, seeing my dad more times than I had in the previous 10 years, seeing my brother more times than I had in the previous 15 years, getting to spend at least an afternoon each with my family and Autumn's family, and of course, eating at Tolteca! That's the problem, though: it was the life we can never have until Autumn gets out of the Army in 11 years, being around family, living in LA, seeing the people and the things we love. Matt met a lot of people he had not yet met, family and friends, and he's already had his first birthday! I think about the 7 months or so I have left here and I know it pales in comparison to the years I will spend in places that aren't LA, and it's really that which takes the heart out of me. The deployment is only the beginning, it seems. My friends in the unit here sympathize, and they say I'll get my mojo back, but it's a hard reality to ignore, and one I guess I successfully buried for all these years. Maybe that's why I never call, and never write ...

I take solace in what everyone told me when I saw them: "I've got your back." I also could not tell that Loretta and Matt had only been living in their apartment for two days by the time I had gotten there - what unbelievable generosity everyone has shown making a temporary home for Loretta and Matt! Thank you, thank you, thank you!! If there's anything that keeps me going here, it's that I think my friends and family love me, and I can safely say there is no doubt in my mind I have nothing to worry about in that regard, much less whether Loretta and Matt will be ok.

Time for bed, if I can get to sleep after screwing up my Circadian rhythm this much ...