Give me a break!!!!

    Germs are everywhere!!! We are having a out break of a cold virus. Employees are swarming into the clinic for help-. Fix me, they say! The only cure for a virus is hot soup and tea and treat the symptoms. What they really want is a day off. Give me a break. I'm working 14 hour days. Of course there's nothing else to do around here but work, but... Give me a break! They are going to infect me! How's that for a caring and compassionate health care worker. I'm finding that I'm having to teach them how to blow their nose on the brown paper towels, (wet them first or they will tear up your upper lip and nose), because there are no soft, fluffy tissues to be had here in Afghanistan. And, chapstick has many uses. Use #3 -scent free is used to put up your nose to prevent bleeding. How's that for army medicine! Dehydration is deadly here. I am constantly reminding everyone to drink their 4-6 liters of water a day. .. and please don't let anyone catch me cracking up as they make their 5th trip to the bathroom in the middle of the night.  And do I really need to remind anyone of the no fraternizing rule? You can tell the couples by who gets sick- like we already guessed.
    On the plus side, I have learn that any women go from a 2 in the States to a 10 in Afghanistan. Imagine that!  Men out number the women 100-1. I originally thought that the guys working on these bases were extra chivalrous when the guys jumped to carrying my luggage, but when they moved as a pack of starving wolves? You've got to wonder-hum? They are so polite! They hop across barriers and gravel pits to say Hi! There is always room at any packed table in the mess hall even if their buddy has to sit on the floor. There is a women in her 50's who never got out of the 70's, and she actually wears make-up! Give me a break! Don't we have enough crap to wash off at night from all of the sand. She's cute as a button in her tight pink pants and large hoop earings- no it's not me- I never wore hoops. I can't guess how some can get around the uniform requirements. Anyways, I went for a midnight stroll and happened upon her and her beau at Lovers Lane. It's a quaint little corner of picnic benches at night that fairies turn into hard, break your ass, wooden benches during the day. He looked to be about 20 and Indian. I don't know what he was after???
     Speaking of getting it, hell tent (the boudoir where I sleep) has finally turned around. There'a a new bitch in town. My southern belle, sweet as apple pie friend has turned Cujo! She had enough last night when we came in from working our 14 hour sift and the princesses had turned off the lights. We stumbled around with our mini flashlights to gather our personals to waltz across base to shower, ( another act of terror- snakes are nocturnal. We wear our boots to the showers and then back again in our jammies- cute visual isn't it). So anyway, she dropped a book that made a loud crash. I did my deputy dog laugh so hard, that I thought I was going to hurt myself. No one said a word...it's the little things here. You got to take a stand against stinky feet! Men sneak in and out of the private girl rooms all night and we have to fight to keep our space and for sole control of the temperature remote. Give me a break!