Purpose

We were contacted in early January by a corpsman from the 26th MEU (Marine Expeditionary Units consisting of nearly 2200 personnel). Apparently, they had deployed almost two months earlier than expect back in August leaving many of the Marines without their required eye protection or extra glasses. In the months that followed several had also lost or broken the set that they had. While floating in the middle of the ocean, this was not as big of a deal. But the 26th MEU was being tasked to go forward. These Marines needed to be able to see and to have their eyes protected in order to carry out their new mission.

With the help of their corpsmen, we were able to pull the majority of prescriptions out of their medical records to facilitate the ordering of their glasses and inserts. However, nearly 100 Marines did not have an exam or refraction in their record. For two and a half days we evaluated and refracted all of these Marines. We fabricated glasses for all but two (their prescriptions exceeded any lenses we had. Luckily both of them had a set of spectacles to get them by until their new ones arrived). In total, we ordered or fabricated 644 sets of spectacles and inserts.

I want to thank HM2 Cruz, our optometry tech, HM3 Hickey, our 0000 (a 0000 is a general corpsman), and IT3 Castaneda (IT is Information Technology), who made this evolution as smooth as possible. They did an outstanding job working up the patients and fabricating the glasses ensuring the patient left with their spectacle that same day (the Marines were located at a Camp about 2 hours away). It was truly an example of perfected teamwork working towards a common goal—making sure we were taking care of our Marines.

I also want to thank the NOSTRA team (NOSTRA is the fabrication lab for the Department of Defense). HM2 Cruz coordinated with CDR Andre to make our orders a priority. We began receiving completed orders less than a week after they were entered.

The Marines have already left for their next destination. And they left with their required eyewear in hand. It was an honor and a privilege serving the warfighters going to the pointiest tip of the spear.

R&R

I never thought I would be excited to do absolutely nothing. Generally speaking, I like to be active and have something to do. Boredom is not my friend. However, in the last day or two I have come to appreciate “nothing”.

I am on R&R (Rest and Recuperation), a four day pass given to those who have deployed for greater than 180 days (our deployment is around 235). Because I am not here a full year, I am not allowed to go home. Our only option for R&R is in Qatar.

Our journey began on Monday by going to another base to catch a flight to Qatar. The first flight out was on Tuesday which gave us about 24 hours to get through before the next leg of our trip. We are one of the last groups to go on R&R so we had heard many horror stories about the travel and how long it took to get places and all about the “hurry up and wait”. Although my type “A” personality would usually buy right into the annoyance of multiple delays, this time I was determined to make the most out of my down time.

I spent 24 hours playing on the computer, uploading pictures, reading a book, listening to music, watching a movie, and sleeping. It was glorious. I can’t remember the last time I have had the luxury of doing absolutely nothing of real importance. If I have any “extra” time, I fill it with completing records, doing laundry, working on collateral duties, and if I’m lucky, I might work in an escape to the wood shop.

Now I am a little more recharged and I’m ready to tackle Qatar and all it has to offer. I have no doubt R&R will accomplish what it is intended to do….provide rest and relaxation. ..and a little bit of nothing.

I believe

I am 39 years old, and I believe in Santa Claus.

Ever since as long as I can remember, Santa ALWAYS came to visit me at Christmas…or at least he left or sent me presents. I have never had a Christmas when I didn’t have something to open from Santa. All of these years, I assumed my Dad (and sometimes my Mom) was Santa’s little helper.

This year, my Dad and Joanne and my Mom sent me lovely Christmas packages. But there wasn’t anything in it wrapped and signed “from Santa”. This is understandable since most post offices advise senders not to wrap packages going overseas. I did receive a “secret Santa” gift from someone who works here at the hospital. It was a wonderful gift. But it wasn’t REALLY from Santa or “his little helper”, I knew this because I, too, had given a “secret Santa” gift.

I really thought that this was going to be my first Christmas without Santa finding me.

Christmas started relatively uneventful. I had gone to Mass on Christmas Eve. There wasn’t any Mass on Christmas day at our Camp because the Priest had gone to another to celebrate Christmas Mass. So instead, I went to work at the wood shop and then went for a haircut.

The hair stylist asked if I would be interested in a facial. I figured I had nothing better to do and I needed to kill at least another hour before I could reach anyone in the States due to the time difference. She said it would take about 40 minutes. Perfect.

I dozed in and out as she applied scrubs and lotions and masks and peels. It was very relaxing. Just what I needed.

When she was finished, I slowly mustered the energy to get up and go pay my bill. The cashier just smiled at me and said, “No charge.” Excuse me. No charge. As in free? But I haven’t paid yet. My groggy mind was having a difficult time wrapping itself around this concept. She then said that the gentleman that had just left paid for everyone. I asked her for his name so I could thank him. But she just smiled and said that he asked to remain anonymous. That he did not want our thanks but to tell us he just wanted us to have a Merry Christmas.

As I walked back to our living area, I got a little teary. It seemed Santa found me after all. Maybe it wasn’t the jolly ol’ elf that we take our children to see, and maybe it wasn’t Santa’s helper in the form of my Dad. But it was the spirit and goodness of Christmas…the giving of gifts with no expectation of a present in return or even a thank you. And if in my mind that is what Santa represents, then yes, I am 39 years old and I believe in Santa Claus. And I hope to continue to believe always.

The other side

A few weeks ago, I hit a low. I was grumpy, I will admit. I think when you are on a deployment there is this point in the middle that is just not a very good place to be. At the beginning, everything is new. You are trying to learn your job, expectations, how to navigate in your new surroundings, etc. But once all of these tasks are mastered, each day is the same as the one before. Ground Hogs Day.

The problem with these trough days is that you really can only see as far as the next 24 hours. Or maybe to the next Sunday. Sunday is our only day of rest here. I use “day of rest” very loosely. Sunday is the day to catch up on sleep (I average about 5-6 hours per night during the week…and I’m usually an 8 hours per night kind of gal), do laundry, run errands, go to the cleaners, go to Mass, etc. Sundays go by WAY to fast. But I digress…

My point is that when you are in the middle, the end is too far away to even try to grasp. To think about it, to hope for it, to plan for it, is an impossibility. You are so stuck in your mundane existence looking down at your feet to see the next step that you can’t look up towards the horizon in search of the finish line. In marathon terms, you hit the wall.

But we are now 2/3 of the way through. The end is not in sight…yet. But I know that it is out there, and I can start to look towards the horizon. Our replacements should be here in less than two months. I’m beginning to catch my second wind. And just as when running a marathon, endurance will outlast the pain.

I am so grateful to my husband and children for waiting for me and cheering me on just as they have so many times over the years. I will cross that finish line, thankful for the experience, but thrilled to be going home with them at last.

I cannot wait!

Refined Latrines

Warning, this is one of the odd observation posts I mentioned might occur at some point. But it just struck me as a bit unique, so I thought I'd share.

Our base recently acquired “classy” porta-potties near the DFAC (Dining Facility). On the outside, it looks like a regular-ol’ Johnnie-on-the-spot. You know the type, hard green plastic outer shell with a door that swings open and a spring that slams it shut. On the inside, it has a typical urinal attached to the left-hand side and a wall mounted hand-sanitizer unit. But instead of a wooden base with a hole and a seat cover, it has a porcelain commode that actually flushes. I don’t quite understand how the process works. I didn’t see a single pipe leading away from the structure…yet, the contents disappeared. It’s like magic. AND best of all, it doesn’t smell. ..which in my book is BETTER than magic!

Navy beats Army!

It was Friday night. The crowd started gathering about 15 minute before game time. The bleachers were filling quickly, at least on our side of the field. This game was not a championship round, but it was the game that needed to be won. EMF-K: Kilo Detachment (Navy) playing 3rd MDSC (Army).

3rd MDSC is the command over us; they are our “boss” over here. Bragging rights were at stake. The smack talk had started days in advance. This was the match-up that mattered. This was a must win.

The game: flag football. And it was going to get ugly.

Picture it. Two teams lined up across the middle of the field, each side with matching gym shirts to designate their respective team affiliation. The lights shining brightly down onto the field. The ground, hard and dusty, not a blade of grass to be found. A slight breeze wafting through the air. Silence in anticipation of the start of this epic meeting. And then, the whistle blew.

On the side lines, there was an explosion of excitement as the Kilo cheerleaders danced and chanted with their shredded paper pom-poms and home-made signs. The crowd, in matching t-shirts specifically bought for the occasion doing the wave and yelling the chants as directed by the cheerleaders, watched the show before them—the game and the divas. The atmosphere was that of a small-town football game…a combination of pride and nothing better to do on a Friday night.

The first play ended with the mighty Navy running in for their first of many touchdowns. Although the “mercy” rule was never enforced…it should have been. Final score…Navy 33, Army 7.

The “real” Navy/Army Football game will take place in a few weeks. But here in Kuwait, the one that matters has already been played...and won.

Navy beats Army…oh yeah!!

.

Apple pie anyone?

Last weekend, Anna and I were on our way to an afternoon lecture. We were standing in line at the coffee shop to get some much needed motivation for the stimulating topics to be covered during training. Suddenly, someone behind us said “Hey, you know the guy from American Pie? He’s right over there!”

We glanced in the direction the gentleman was pointing, and sure enough, there was Jason Biggs. There had been no announcement that he would be visiting, but there was no doubt he was who he was…he looked just like you would expect.

We immediately got out of line to go over and greet him. (Remember, we were in line for coffee, so voluntarily stepping aside without coffee in hand emphasizes the importance of the meeting.) He shook our hand and thanked us for our service. Chatted for a moment and then was told by his handlers that they were running late and that he needed to go. He shook our hand again and headed for the door.

I was SO bummed I didn’t have my camera! And then I spotted it, a glorious picture taking device in the hands of young soldier. “Please, please, please Mr. Soldier-guy, please take our picture.” He reluctantly agreed. I don’t really think his reluctance was in taking the picture, it was more in the running through the Exchange, out the door, and through the parking lot to chase down the already departed Mr. Biggs. But just as before, Jason was gracious and almost flattered that we had gone through so much trouble to have proof of our meeting.

Thank you, Mr. Biggs, for humoring us. And thank you, Mr. Soldier-guy, for capturing and providing the evidence.

Crazy busy

Ok, blog followers, it seems I owe you an apology. I haven’t been able to post in a while due to work induced time fillers. Unfortunately, this won’t be much of a post either as I am still playing catch up. I had 3 projects all due the same week…a presentation on eyeballs to the medical staff, an update of the instruction and report for the Executive Committee of the Professional Staff on Medical Record Review, and a presentation to the Board of Directors on productivity and workload of the hospital and clinics. Now that the presentations and reports are finished, I have to complete all my record documentation of my patients that were placed squarely on the back-burner over the last week or so. I am hoping to be able to breathe again sometime later this week. I will try to then update the blog and post some picture on Facebook. Cross your fingers I don’t have any short-fused taskers pop up between now and then.

Star-struck

I am not one to be a groupie or follow a band or care much about celebrity. But WOW! Aaron Lewis was incredible. He was humble, and personable, and carried on a conversation with us. And his music…unbelievable! He did a solo acoustic performance. Just the man and his guitar.

In a time when music is overly produced, synthesized, smoothed out, sang over, with back up and instruments and more technological gadgets than I can list, to hear a performer just sing was refreshing. It was gritty and pure. His voice is truly amazing and when he belted it, like only he can, I got goose-bumps. And for one glorious evening, I was able to forget where I was and just enjoy the music.

Keep smiling

There is really no such thing as privacy on deployment. As I mentioned before, we live in cubicles. Although you may not be able to see your neighbor, you can still definitely hear your neighbor. Even if you try really, really hard not to listen in on their conversations, when they are literally feet away, it is difficult not to know what is going on with their husbands, parents, kids, and friends back home. Moral of the story: If you don’t want the world to know it, don’t say it out loud.

What's more, the lack of privacy goes beyond conversations with loved ones. We can’t do anything in solitude. Our bathrooms have 8-9 stalls and 6 showers. There are a few “one holers” at the hospital, but those are generally in pretty high demand.

The chow hall allows for intimate dining with no less than 200 of your closest friends.

The gym, Exchange, coffee shop, track, hospital, library, Red Cross room, Movie Theater, even my office, constantly have people around. There isn’t a single location where you can have some down time without someone else being around.

Not that I don’t like people. I do…most of the time. But sometimes I just need some silence and a chance to be alone. When you are constantly around folks it wears you down. Being nice can take a lot of energy.

But perhaps that is the master plan. If you look the part of being happy, you will be. It’s just that sometimes my cheeks are getting a little sore from constantly wearing my perma-grin.

It's not hot

Well, it’s official. I have acclimated to the heat. Maybe “acclimated” is a bit strong. Maybe “I don’t melt when I walk to the DFAC for lunch” might be a better descriptor. Plus the temperatures have been dropping a little. The highs have been in the high one-teens instead of one-twenties and I think I saw a forecast for next week where we are only supposed to reach 107. Break out the parka!

Actually, it is interesting how adjusting to the heat changes things. When we first arrived, I slept in shorts. Now I sleep in flannel PJs. Yes, flannel. The AC is so cold that I need 2 blankets on top of the PJs. I also think my early morning pool days are over. Last week at 5am the temperature dipped below 90 and there was a slight breeze. Normally this would be fantastic pool weather. But I nearly froze after taking the required shower before entering the pool. Goose bumps, teeth chattering…the whole nine yards.

So, I switched back to running for my early morning physical training. I am not at my best while running in the heat. Just ask Anna and Kathleen, my running buddies from back home. Heat + Me = slow time. Normally, 90 degrees at any time during the day would kill me. But so far, I’ve been doing ok. I’ll be tested this weekend when we run a 9.11K (a little under 6 miles) on 9/11. Race check in time is 4:30am. I am pretty sure if the heat doesn’t get me the lack of sleep will. Acclimating to heat is one thing, but adjusting to early mornings (and being happy about it)…never.

Welcome back

Have you ever gone to Mass (church, temple, mosque) when the homily (sermon, teaching) was directed specifically at you? As if God said, “Hello, Marrie. Glad you made it this morning.” Well, this was one of those days.

The morning started off kind of rough. I had two patients I needed to see at 1000. I decided to go in at 0830 to get caught up on a couple charts and finish a presentation for the command. When I got to work, my office had no electricity. This makes updating charts and power point presentations challenging. Deciding not to be thwarted by this unforeseen roadblock, I posted a sign for my patients to go to the CASREC (ER equivalent) for their appointment and I trotted off to the hospital to at least update my charts there.

I was able to complete my records and see my patients. The lack of air conditioning made the process a bit uncomfortable, but I finished. At least they had electricity to power the computer and slit lamp.

After a quick stop at the DFAC, I made it to Mass on time.

Mass started off as most Masses do. Sign of the Cross, prayers, creeds, readings, and then came the homily. The Priest starts off, “Many of you wear glasses or contact lenses. They help you to see things in the distance and up close. They help you to see where you are and where you are going. God is the same.” And he continued, weaving this theme throughout. “So the next time you put on your glasses or contact lenses, or when you see other people wearing their glasses, remember how God helps us to see our lives and our path to him as clearly as our glasses sharpen our surroundings. You would never want to go anywhere without your glasses. This is also true for God. He is the glasses for our lives. ”

Hmmm. ..My first Sunday that I was able to attend Mass in Kuwait. Do you think He was trying to tell me something?

Yes God, I missed you, too.

Coffee

Anyone who knows me knows I LOVE coffee. It is one of life’s simple pleasures…a cup of coffee first thing in the morning. Nothing’s better. In an environment without friends and family, without many of the comforts we are accustomed to having, “simple pleasures” become the things we look forward to and what puts a smile on our face.

Today I received a cup of coffee from a complete stranger in the States. Green Beans Coffee Company has a program where folks back home can buy a cup of coffee and send it to someone deployed. It’s called “Cup of Joe For A Joe” program. I’m not writing this to convince people to go out and buy a cup of coffee for the troops. But what I am asking is if you pass by a Green Beans Coffee, and you are in the mood for a cup of java, stop in and support this company…because they are making an effort to support us and they (with the help of their customers) are putting smiles on our faces.

Schedule

Folks have been asking me what my “typical day” is like. So here it goes…

I’ve been getting up around 0500 (unless I go to water aerobics or run, then it is about 0430). I try to be at work by 0630. I have walk in patients between 0700-0800 which generally consist of sick-call and follow ups. But don’t let that fool you, I have walk-ins all day long. Patient appointments begin at 0800. Lunch is 1200-1300. Most days, I’m finished with patients around 1600 (that’s 4pm for the non-military folk) and work on records until close to 1700. At 1700 a group of us meet in the supply tent and do an exercise program called P90X. It lasts about an hour. We then mosey on over to the DFAC (that’s Hooah for chow hall**translation**that’s Army speak for the dining facility.) I then go back to the clinic to finish up records and work on a couple of my collateral duties. (Collateral duties are the assignments one has in addition to their “real” job. I am the Dashboard Chair and the Chair of the Medical Record Review Committee . Both are great collaterals, but time consuming.) I’ve been getting back to my rack (cubicle) by about 2100.

We have been averaging near 30 patients a day in our clinic. I don’t actually put “hands on” each one of them, some things my technicians can do, but I have to review and code the encounters in the computer and sign the record on every patient that passes through our door. We do physicals, routine exams, referrals from the TMC (Troop Medical Clinic), acute care (injury, trauma, infection, inflammation, etc), and we can make glasses, too. We are one of the most productive clinics here.

This cycle of events is repeated Monday through Friday. Saturdays are supposed to end at noon. P90X starts at 1200 sharp. Both Saturdays so far, I have had to return to the clinic to see follow ups or was called into the CASREC (Casualty Receiving = Emergency Room). The first Saturday I left at 1800, last Saturday it was 1400, so at least we are trending in the right direction. I have gone in on my “off” day both Sundays for patients requiring tight monitoring and patients in the CASREC. I am hoping this is an anomaly to my schedule and not a weekly event. (I have not added it to my Outlook calendar. ;o)

Luckily, I have fit in a couple movies and a camel ride….mostly during the left-over part of my Sunday. Unfortunately, both times I was called into the CASREC it was right before the beginning of Mass, so I haven’t made it…yet. Let’s hope I can add that to my “typical week” soon.

Movies

Only on a military base will you see the audience stand when the Star Spangled Banner plays across the big screen before a movie begins…even when the technician forgets to turn on the sound.

No talking, no whispers, no wriggling.

Everyone in the theater standing at attention in complete and total stillness watching scenes of wars, planes, tanks, ships, heroes, and finally our flag, flapping in silence.

I-Bay

We FINALLY moved out of the tents and into a brick and mortar structure. It’s not that the tents were all that bad, it was more an issue of convenience. In the tents we had to walk outside to a porta-potty trailer type thing that was located about 200yds away. This trek in the middle of the night was not fun. Due to the need to hydrate during the day, at least one trip per night was unavoidable.

The trailer itself was nice enough, but the problem with its out-sidedness was two-fold. 1. After showering, you were only able to remain clean and sweat –free for about 5 minutes until you started the journey back to the tents. 2. The pipes to the trailer were not buried very deep so the water heated up during the day. Showering in 110+ degree water (and that is with only the cold water faucet turned on) is not very refreshing…in fact, it was a challenge to get soaped up and rinsed off before the scalding water removed your skin along with the dirt.

Now we have our own place in the I-Bay. Our spaces are separated by cubicles and our doors are made of shower curtains. It is small, but it is mine. AND there is in-door plumbing. It is still not necessary to turn on the hot water faucet throughout the showering process but at least the “cold” water is warm, not hot. Afterwards it is now possible to stay clean and sweat-free for an entire evening, unless of course you need to go outside…then all bets are off.

Copy that...

Plagiarism is the greatest form of flattery, right??

The below excerpt is from Danika, she is one of the girls from my sea hut and a dentist assigned to one of the outlying clinics. She did an excellent synopsis of our journey so I figured I would re-post it on my blog, giving her credit, of course. Our experience was very similar, except my journey ended at Camp Arifjan rather than continuing on to Camp Virginia.
Thanks Danika!

“July 12-17: I arrived in Port Hueneme California for in-processing. This place really tested my patience as each day I was there we had about an hour of things to do stretched into a whole day. This site is to make sure the women aren't pregnant, that everyone is fit for the deployment and take care of any administrative things before going to training. The great news was we stayed in an awesome hotel for 5 nights.... not a good way to prepare us for what was to come.

July 17-22: Took a 2 hour bus trip up to Camp Pendleton to a sight called NEMTI. Naval Expeditionary Medicine Training Institute. The first week we broke our group of 160 sailors into four platoons, decided the leadership organization for the next 3 weeks, and adjusted to our berthing (living quarters). The place we slept was called a sea hut and it was open bay with 10-20 other people. We slept on cots with sleeping bags, and kept our sea bags under the cot and a footlocker at the base. It took some adjustment but I was sleeping well in about 3 nights.

July 23-July 30 : This was a busy week. We had classes, figured out how to get 160peoples laundry done, and had some lab portions of training to do. It was starting to get sort of fun as we got to know each other, after all, we were comprised of endocrinologist, gastroenterologist, surgeons, nurses, dentists, PA's, optometrists, internists, family practice doctors, health care administrators, etc.... so our dinner conversations were, well...... usually pretty gross!

Our classes consisted of:

- Land Navigation

-Use of the SINGARS radio (single channel ground to air radio system)

-Basic Dari Language

-General Orders : no alcohol, no pornography, no feeding or trying to domesticate/capture wildlife, no buying foreign currency, no taking of weapons, uniforms etc as "prizes"...and some others I can't really remember.

- What to do if captured as a POW

- IED detection

For the "hands on portion" we did the following:

-we took a 5 vehicle convoy through a fake town and simulated mortar fire, and IED explosion (real sound effects here)

-Identified 10 IED's on a pathway

- Gas chamber exercise (went into a room with CS gas and put on our masks and made sure we knew how to work them) Of course you get some gas on you and it burns your eyes, throat and makes you salivate and your nose runs.

-HUMVEE roll-over (almost like a fair ride, except you are wearing 45 pounds of protective gear and you are holding a M16 that you have to make sure stays squeezed between your legs as the vehicle rolls....not so easy)

-Weapons Qualification on the M9, some people also had to qualify on the M4. I did not, however I did get to shoot about 30 rounds on the M4 which was fun.

- MOPP gear training ( Mission Oriented Protective Posture). Shows us how to put on boots, gloves, pants, gas mask and top that you would have to have if you had a biological contaminant.

July 22- Aug 6 : Basically had some more training (some of the above hands on portion was done during the beginning of this week) and then we just cleaned up camp and got ready for our long plane ride.

Aug 6-8 : It took us about 24 hours until we touched down in Kuwait. Had 3 layovers in between and got into Camp AJ at about 4 am on Sunday August 8. We did not go to bed, we put our gear in tents and waited for our CO to come and brief us about what was to come.

Aug 8 5:00 pm: After the CO's brief, they wasted no time. I took a bus with about 10 other up to Camp Virginia. You can imagine by now I was exhausted. Almost 36 hours of traveling. We traveled in buses with the curtains closed so I couldn't see much of anything. I arrived at about 9 pm in Camp and was shown to my little hut..... I laid my head down but had a lot of trouble sleeping despite my exhaustion... thoughts: " WHERE THE HELL AM I"!!!”

Travels

Our journey began in Camp Pendleton. Reveille was at 3am. This was followed by camp clean up, continental breakfast, and gear loading. We traveled from Camp Pendleton to March Air Force Base by bus; it was about a 3 hour ride. We waited at March AFB terminal (which was more like a converted hanger bay) for four and a half hours before we boarded our plane. We had stop-overs in Illinois, Newfoundland, and Germany; each lasting about 2 hours.

We arrived in Kuwait on Aug 8 in the wee hours of the morning. We boarded a bus that took us just off the airport grounds and stopped for about an hour. We were able to de-board, get some water, and use the porta-potties. (Note: porta-potties are not a great option in an extremely warm environment. Even at 3am it was 97 degrees.) A working party had been assigned to unload all our gear onto a truck so we were waiting for them to finish and join us. When we were all back together, our buses headed towards Camp Arifjan. I can’t tell you much about Kuwait City, the desert, or even the highway because I didn’t see anything. We were required to keep the window curtains closed.

After going through all the check points, we arrived at tent city. The working party unloaded our massive number of sea bags and equipment into huge piles. Once we identified our belongings, we lugged them to our tent. Thank goodness one of the girls in our hut had bright pink duct tape that we labeled and placed on each of our bags.

We had about 2 hours before Orientation began. My sponsor (the guy I’m replacing) met me at my tent, took me to the DFAC (dining facility) where he introduced me to the “omelette on Sundays” ritual. (Omelettes can actually be ordered every day, but he made the self imposed rule to only eat them on Sundays). We then went to the Starbucks for a coffee before orientation (yes, they have a Starbucks!).

Orientation was somewhat painful. I think the theory is that if they keep us going and don’t allow us to sleep until evening, then the adjustment to the new time zone will be easier. I don’t know if I actually believe this or not, but I managed to stay up until 2030 (8:30pm for the non-military folk). By the end of the day, I was a walking zombie. I fell blissfully asleep and managed to stay that way with the help of some pharmaceutical aids.

Morning arrived at 0500. Started work at 0700. No time for jet lag!

Navigation

We are temporarily located in tent city. It is about a mile and a half or so from the hospital. The best way to transit back and forth is by bus. Red line to the hospital, blue line back. Easy, right?
I made it to the hospital on the first day without any problems. The return, however, was more challenging. The Chaplain and I waited patiently for the bus. We saw the blue sign in the window and boarded the bus. After about 20 minutes we arrived at a check point. A security guard entered the bus to check IDs. We were about to leave the base!! We immediately got off the bus and walked about a quarter of a mile to the depot near the gate. Finally, we found the right bus. Our mistake was that the blue line has a sign in the front window that is black and white with the word "BLUE" written on it. The bus we took had a blue sign with black lettering on it.
Word not color.
Lesson learned.

Introduction

Welcome!

I'm starting this blog because my dad seems to think folks back home are interested in the mundane existence of my deployment. Although I have been told that after a while life in Kuwait is like Goundhog's Day, I will attempt to record snippets of what it is really like...at least from my perspective. I am not promising anything insightful or profound. What you will find instead are ramblings about my experiences, observations, and random thoughts.

And so it begins...