Reflections of the past year

Today....It's 2 days and 18 hours until I leave and I'm in a reflective mood and thinking of the past year.

At times it was so difficult. The living conditions are just bearable, the weather is extreme, it's lonely and boring (so you work 12 hrs on and 12 hours off which seems like a long time off, but add in the walking time from place to place, bathroom time, eating time and it's shaved down to 6-8 hours of sleep with laundry and other daily living chores.)  It's disease-ridden with insects, and filthy conditions, and anybody can be the taliban (they're not just outside the wire. They mix among us.)  We can be killed at any moment and some have suffered that fate.  We pray...well I do.  AND, anything can kill you and sometimes does.

But what an adventure!  I woke every day saying I can't believe I'm in Afghanistan.  The people of the land are shy and suspicious, (They've heard about us too- from the taliban), until you smile and say hi.  Then most are very friendly and welcoming.  I mostly lived in a land with mountains that were stunning every day.  Going to the local merchants was
something I always looked forward to.  Not only to buy their wares but it was a change of pace and to socialize out of the
ordinary...something not easy to do here.  The friends that I made, we became very close...we spend every waking moment
together at work, at chow, and even in the showers and slept side by side.

I will forget all the pain I suffered here and the hurt and meanness (it's all a distant memory as I speak) and move on to
the happy place of remembering all of the good times and all that I've accomplished.  Nowhere have I lived has it been so
far from my comfort zone and so close to what I thought I could never do.  I found that I could.  I will remember those I saw killed and friends that died simply doing their jobs while trying to make this a better place.  Afghanistan is
incredible and I would've liked to come back to explore and really see the land, though war and the taliban make that
impossible.

Contracting is not for everyone.  You are looked down upon by the military that sees you as making big money (so suck it up).
Others feel put out that they have to protect you,(we have no discipline), so you get the scraps; in beds, housing, food,
no vehicles, using port-a-potties, and no entertainment or use of gyms and more.  You learn to take each day as it comes
and make do with what you can order from Amazon (the reason why many go home broke).  But you accomplish so much more in your life - in self, in accomplishment that you will ever think possible, and grow in ways that you've only read about.  The adventure.  I am so grateful that I experienced it.

Surviving Afghanistan with Harry

Good grief! How did I survive a year in Afghanistan?

When I first arrived, all the lifer contractors talked about how great KBR was. The living conditions, space, running water and real bathrooms, Barbecues and days off, Vacation time taken every 4 months.  And beer, beer, beer.

I don't work there nor did I get the royal treatment.  Looking back on the year, I'm so thankful to have it done.  It's a real accomplishment.  I'm on a fairly large base and the Prince is just around the corner.  I see a bathroom twice a day that is approximately a block walk from my bed - can't say room since I'm in a dorm with 5 others. Just try to make it there in a timely fashion in the middle of a cold night...you women with children know what I mean.  For the men, I'm told that it's equivalent to the morning after a beer bash.  I just bet Harry has his own golden facility.

They say that he lives like the commoners - I think not.  For example; other that the visual of him stumbling to the pisser in the middle of the night, I can't imagine him eating grub on Asia night...take your pick of chicken, vegetable or beef curry dishes (complete with the bones), slavered over rice or noodles and some kind of fish stew.  Take a deep breath...fishy odor and curry - please gag me.  Although if you can stand the smell, (and I hope you can because it seeps into your clothes and lingers all the way to the laundry), the dishes are outstanding!  And to top it off, there is some really sweet yummy rice pudding!

Do you think the Crown Jewel has a bed like mine?  I have to be careful to plant myself exactly for sleep, because one turn will land me on the hard concrete floor.  I could not imagine what went on in that mattress prior to my arrival.  One side is smashed down and the other is elevated - making it an unwelcomed slide...and off I go.  I actually had my 3" comfort mattress pad sent here, that also slips to the floor.

Just last night, I made a midnight dash to the ladies, carefully positioning myself back into bed chattering my teeth all the way, with a fluffy fake warm mink cover, when I felt a tinkle on my backside...then waist...I chased the bugger into my bra only to pull out a Camel Spider.  Well it's dead now.  Good riddance. I did it...me!  The one who called my husband home from work to kill a spider 30 years ago.  Take that!   I bet ol' Harry doesn't do that and I'm hoping he doesn't wear a bra along with his other escapades!

But he is famous and known the world over as the rabble rouser Prince of England and he's here fighting the good fight.  The taliban didn't chase him off even when they attacked the base special for him.  He stayed and fought.  I bet we shared the initial fear from the attack and then the outrage at their effort.  There are things that are meant to be shared and he lives and dies like the rest of us.  God Save the Queen...or in this case Harry.

                                               

"They"

Sand storm!!! One of the younger guys came in with the alert. We then rush to use the bathrooms and those that partake of nicotine go for the last smoke before the storm. It hits like tiny grandules that clean your face to a ooohh so soft smoothness but leaves it red and filthy. And the sand gets in the smallest openings, (imagine beaches). We'll also be cleaning the clinic for days. And please protect your eyes, warnings- which won't help. I'll still get eye injuries for days even with that.

I actually got a patient with a bug bite today. I have no idea what kind, but the area was blistery, red, swollen and spreading rapidly. Everything can kill you here. I'll have to see him daily until I leave...too bad not to see how it resolves- if it does.

An exPat came in today without his immunization record. A big no-no here. If you don't have one, you get shot up all over again. We're used to seeing the FN's do this. (FN's= INdians, Kenyans, basically all others outside the US). Their excuse is "somebody" took it. Or my personal favorite..."THEY didn't give me one." First lets establish who "THEY" are and go from there. It floors me that people from third world countries will let anybody do anything to them without question. No wonder why they're so easily run over.

 My thought...Do you not question what "THEY" put into your body? Why would you leave behind the one thing that proves you had 7 injections? They're done in series too. So month #1 you get 7 shots, then month #2 you get 3 and so on. They add shots all of the time- it a big company money maker. SO, no shot record gets you the whole series all over again. We had Anthrax added a little ways back. No other vaccination has caused such an uproar. So, I thought to lead as a good example and I took the shot first. Who could refuse if the medic was the first to comply- right? One hour later the Anthrax vaccine was cancelled throughout all camps! "They" could not have planned it better...

Speaking of things that make me go hum...My female buddy from back home is on a base with 2/3's ANA soldiers. I don't know what brainiac thought up that to place her there. We're in the process of withdrawal and as that happens the US troops leave and the people that they've trained (ANA) take their place to protect their own country. One big problem is "they" are also the "green" that you may have heard about on tv...green on blue shootings. I was so surprised that I was not conveniently placed there as should be obvious to anyone reading my blog. "They" (in the big house) have tried so many times to get rid of me through insurgent means so many time that I've lost count. Course my buddy and I are both from Detroit - hmm?

I start the sign out process soon. Just 6 short days and I will be home.  I am so anxious to be gone.  I look around suspiciously for any way that I can be got from "they."  No need to worry about the taliban when you have conspirators breathing down your back.  I simply hold my breath until the plane takes off. And, I'll hold on to my Lord with faith that I will make it home safely.  See you soon!

                                               

7 more days......

 I'm in an office with 4 other medics. Our fearless leader sits in another office- no medic work for him  (we're peons)...ooops. spoke too soon. The big guy is here and he threw him back to guppieland....with us..someone's not too happy... We sit and type and occasionally see patients - only on occasional because we train them like monkeys to come at an appropriate time. It's a clinic like a doctors office and wait you must!  It angers them and most times they do not return...which is in keeping with our image throughout theater.

This is my first time, in one year, to not work on critical or emergency patients.  I got a pneumonia case the other day and I almost hugged him.  I was prized with giving an emergency breathing treatment- this was something that I took advantage of on the truck and not a big deal there.  Here, good times are dust sniffles called Allergic Rhinitis.  You hear the medics talk about the Antihistamines and Decongestants in a snotty manner from A to Z. It's hilarious. And I ask, when was the last time you splinted a leg using a military stretcher? - hahahah!

I got a ton of experience here due to my adventures and being a remote medic- in spite of the company. I just did an I&D on a arm full of pus to drain it.  And, I love doing stitches- I just knew that needlepoint would in handy one day. Plus working with the military was incredible and I learned so many new techniques and procedures.  I have no idea how I'll go back to the regular world.

But here I come, just 7 more days! I have many offers to go all over the world.  The big dogs here even invited me to change my position and come back.  That's what "nicest medic" in Afghanistan will get you! I appreciated the award but I am so ready to get back home!                                               

Another day in FOB Life....

FOB life is a big party, game playing, movie watching time...unfortunately not. It was like that when certain nameless managers did that job. But since most of us real medics and enjoy patient care and really do interact with the camp and military, there is no time to relax. (After EXCEL and other ridicuous tasks that we do to make the upper bitter butt kissers look better). I barely have time to sleep and let my family know I'm OK. Then the coup-de-gras... overtime was x-nayed, and actually ordered we take it off on another day or time. HAHAHAH! Major timesheet fraud. Enough to get sent to the big house for the rest of our lives. I think not..
The daily ho-hum I will not miss. Life is the same day in and day out. I meet my buddies for a smoke. We talk about our families, the days happening including politics...I'm bored telling you...and then it's bed time for another 12-13 hour shift- depending on where you work if they count the hour lunch in your work day or not. We don't have a choice because people get sick all of the time. And then...
...the Prince does his service on the base that I am at - Ha! HA! I've been on Prince watch since his arrival. He walks around totally oblivious to us all, but is super polite and says Hi! Or so I'm told...I've yet to see him. I have witnessed the fallout as the talitubbies made a play for him last night by attacking our base. It was a shock! I fell asleep reading my kindle when a huge explosion woke me. I thought, wth? this is the safe base...so I rolled over and went back to sleep. This morning I opened my door to a lock down. Which essentially means- No Working...so back to ho hum and to the book I'm reading.
I opened my eyes and saw a film that upset a religious order. 20 Muslims countries are attacking our Embassies all over the world over an internet video. Really... another excuse to target Americans...all the bad guys look for a reason to latch on to. Why they hate us instead of stabilizing their own governments is the real question. I notice that they don't burn the money that we hand out to them. We put our asses on the line for their hate of us - good grief! Fix your business and stop blaming the Americans for all of your woes!

The games people play

The games people play...I received a mystery box, no return address. It was filled with books, air packs and CD's...AND, the CD's were blank- strange. Any other place in the world this would be a welcomed gift. But in the war world, security...military... postal service- you get the picture. Let's enter into The Twight Zone...And again, I received a mystery box. This time at a base that I have never been placed at and it did have a return address...from a charitable institute in the United States, (I don't think so). The procedure is the same. WTH? The million dollar question has been. What is in the box and why am I being targeted? It's scary... There's bad guy around every corner. More games.. I was talked into signing for a second year with guilt. Quote, " I busted my ass to get them to re- sign you for a second year and now you don't want to stay?" So with my head held in shame, I re-signed...drum roll please... only to be denied the contract. WTH? Games, games and more games. And the hits just keep on coming! So back to wondering why someone would send me "potentially laced boxes" filled with random stuff... strange...and a company label placed on top?. Apparently they were sent by someone from my workplace. The placards are not readily available on the internet. Let me think?_?_? Whos tail have I stepped on recently? The last idiot supervisor that I had who pushed me down the stairs, (me-injured- boo hoo!). The guy that strolled into my boudoir in the wee hours of the morning (you know what a hot granny I am!) I chased him out with my handy bat. I don't name call,(well, not in this blog so far). But, This is a warzone after all. I had no idea that the enemy would come from within and there is still the one without...a homeland, a clue, a brain- oh, yes..the talitubbies! My choices are far reaching. "course it could've been the voice that turned me down for a secord year. Really, why bother? I'm really just little peas after all. And I'm glad I'm going. It was a tough decision to stay after the year that I had. Afghanistan is remarkable and beautiful and I had so many amazing experiences and adventures. I loved the work and the patients. The people are like an extended family that I care about so much. I really loved it here. It's really too bad that a few were allowed to play games and bully the rest. The company is losing a lot of good people. We're all in mass exodus to the promise land or another contract, which ever comes first.

Games

The games people play...I received a mystery box, no return address. It was filled with books, air packs and CD's...AND, the CD's were blank- strange. Any other place in the world this would be a welcomed gift. But in the war world, security...military... postal service- you get the picture. Let's enter into The Twight Zone

...Next episode...again, I received a mystery box. This time at a base that I have never been placed at and it did have a return address...from a charitable institute in the United States, (I don't think so). The procedure is the same. WTH? The million dollar question has been. What is in the box and why am I being targeted? It's scary... There's a bad guy around every corner.

More games.. I was talked into signing for a second year with guilt. Quote, " I busted my ass to get them to re- sign you for a second year and now you don't want to stay?" So with my head held in shame, I re-signed...drum roll please... only to be denied the contract. WTH? Games, games and more games. And the hits just keep on coming!

So back to wondering why someone would send me "potentially laced boxes" filled with random stuff... strange...and a company label placed on top?. Apparently they were sent by someone from my workplace. The placards are not readily available on the internet. Let me think?_?_? Whos tail have I stepped on recently? The last idiot supervisor that I had who pushed me down the stairs, (me-injured- boo hoo!). And he strolled into my bedroom at the ungodly hour of 6am like he owned the place and me in my jammies. (you know what a hot granny I am!). There were other infractions by him, but why go on. I complained and I was transferred. I don't call name,(well, not in this blog anyway), but does this not sound like retaliation? I'm such a bad girl! He alienated most everyone at the base and then targeted me. Seriously, I thought he was a social misfit and I tried to help him out. But, This is a warzone after all. I had no idea that the enemy would come from within. He happens to be an idiot pet of the top brass, so gone I go. I'm just little peas after all.

And glad I am. It was a tough decision to stay after the year that I had. Afghanistan is remarkable and beautiful and I had so many amazing experiences and adventures. I loved the work and the people are like an extended family that I care about so much. I really loved it here. It's really too bad that a few were allowed to play games and bully the rest. The company is losing a lot of good people. We're all in mass exodus to the promise land or another contract, which ever comes first.

Life on a big base is more like a daily life. Predictable and long...I feel like a lemming, but I have co-workers to share in this non-entity. We type and see patients in between our entries into Excel...if time permits. In the past, I cared about an expensive stethoscope- a tool for the trade. Now I only care that I have a great office chair and maybe a desk with drawers.

Our patients are different too. Gone are the guys who came in shot up, limbs missing, blood all over. Gone are the puking, tummy pains. Gone are the hacking up a lung patients. Now we have drug seekers. I never thought to see that in Afghanistan. They come in with....Ma'am, I have tooth pain that bothers me "sometimes." I ask when "sometimes" is, but get the "deer in the headlights" look. I gave a vaccination and a young chap actually asked if I would mind if he took a 500 count bottle of Motrin for his "sometime" pain. I grabbed it back and gave him directions to the nearest PX. Sometime, someone has validated this behavior by handing out pills like candy. Just like children, they cry... we pick them up...learned behavior... Well, there's a new sheriff in town...however briefly, and I will not be giving out our stash.

Speaking of drugs... we have nothing good. Come in for a kidney stone and we can mix you up some brew that will knock you on your a_s for a spell, but don't even think about coming in with a broken hip to be set. I have nothing to knock you out. Fortunately, that has only happened once and he was taken to a real Military hospital for help complete with 4 virile men to help hold him and set it. So don't bother to buddy up to the lab girl who will ask me if I have something for migraines. The answer is NO. You know the rules- sneak it from home.

Many bring lots of stuff from home. Psychiatric meds (definitely not allowed in a war zone). I couldn't get my Vitamins through Dubai. What orifice were these placed in to get through Xray? We will find out when you flip your cookies, (thank you for playing and home you go). Unfortunately, everyone brings something. I was sick with Gastroenteritis (more popularly known as Stomach flu) and was offered a pill for a cold and it would help me sleep and brighten my complexion. I replied that there was nothing wrong with my skin, thank you very much! WTH? Nice to offer the medic pills. I wonder if that requires reciprocation?

If you don't bring it from home, changes are that you may obtain it from the Bazaar. These are cute little local stores run by Afghani's set up in containers, (commonly seen on the back of semi trucks). Most of the medications are expired by 10 years and they've been rumored to poison the cartons of cigarettes, but at 4 bucks a pop- who cares! That's right...cigarettes are cheap, cheap here, so smoke 'em up! And if that won't kill you, you can also buy some hadji's pot that will send you into Cardiac Arrest. It happened just one time and the guys stopped buying it for a short time- go figure.

I love my patients, but it is approaching the end of my contract. I can hardly wait. I had decided not to return...then a higher up talked me into signing for another year- I figured WTH? I'll give it a shot. Then I was denied a second year contract by another higher up...more games- does anyone communicate? So I did the travel plans and sent them to the said boss for approval, ( certain they would sign and I would be home in a jiffy). But NO! I sit and wait, and wait and wait. How to say, I don't want to play with you anymore? I think I hear my Mommy calling me....

Good grief, if this keeps up my last blog will be a doozy!

A Memorable day

Today a memorable event marked this day. The laundry service that we must endure lost a pair of my pants. I only brought what I needed for one month and sent the rest home in anticipation of my End Of Contract. Slowly my supply is dwindling. I actually cried- at the end of my rope. They lost the last load I had brought in. I've heard that "laundry never loses any of my clothes", more times than I can count. How do I respond? Maybe, they only lose mine because I'm a "B". Or, I must have wronged them to lose my laundry. I will immediately go and apologize...wth? They came out with bags of homeless laundry waiting for a home... and who did that belong to?

Plus I'm touchy because I can't sleep.. snoring neighbor and all- Me! The one who slept through a mortar attack. That's how loud SHE snores. And she changes up her rhythm. Just when I think I can pretend it's a symphony, she goes into marching band mode, then she's doing a rap, then she's doing a backfiring bus- wth??? I can sleep through a Chinook hovering over my tent, but it gets a little tricky when she stops breathing in all this mess. (She's also suffering for a cold). I asked in the morning, (when she wakes me slamming the door returning from showering and flicks on the overhead light), if she was aware that she stops breathing in her sleep or if there was something that I could do for her such as buying her nose strips? She suggested that I switch beds across the room...as if that would help. I wonder how the people next door sleep with all that racket.

Then I was told that scrub tops are not appropriate wear after one year of wearing them. OK- I only have 3, but it makes you feel like more of a person with choices other than bright blue & fire engine red. Those really makes you a target for the bad guys. I got approval before signing my contract to wear scrubs...never knowing how much I would need the difference...and I've worn them on every FOB and now "No". Seems like I'm being targeted...It's OK for everyone else to wear blue jeans, collegiate T's, rapper shirts, anywhere fire shirts, gym shoes, crocs...go figure.

And lets not forget shower time...There are 20 girls to one shower here. I have tried many different times to find one free and without a substantial wait. I had to laugh after walking a dusty block to another shower to find....drum roll please...6 showers, but only one in service. heehaws! I feel bad for the girl that was assaulted as she used a shower in no man's land, isolated from the masses. Who would willingly go and leave themselves so isolated and exposed? Me! That's who...and my neighbor would want it too if I have to wait another day. Oh- who cares what she wants!

The cherry of my day came when I waltzed into work and found the boss from KAF here. It doesn't get any better than that. She joked that if I needed her to whop some laundry a_s...? Well at least it was constructive and more in the neighborhood of responding to my needs. Much better than the usual punishment for opening my mouth and emitting a sound.

But life on a big base can be an adventure and I have 8 bus schedules and plans for a trip around the base in my near future. Stay tuned! Happy Labor's Day...another non-memorable day here in Afghanistan.

Afghanistan- Why am I here?

Afghanistan…why am I here? This was my choice to come and work for a lot of pay…But what you don’t know is all the work I put in. Sometimes 24/7. And the tasks that I’m made to do. Tote the barge, lift that bale- you do what needs to be done, sometimes without thinking and usually
outside of my job description. Other times I squawk. Who cares…it still has to
get done. So, I do it.

Every day is Ground Hog day, one day is just like tomorrow & yesterday. Which leads me to the being here part? Contractors support the troops. We do the emptying & cleaning of the toilets, cooking meals and feeding & cleaning up the mess halls, pest control, firefighting, and laundry, simple and emergency medical care, among other things. This frees the soldier to fight and do their military thing. Without contractors, the military would need many more young and able bodied men and women to do the daily mundane tasks needed for life. Remember the draft?? Not needed thanks to contractors.

Afghanistan, why don’t we get out of the war on terror here? There are approximately 33 conflicts & wars that the United States has current involvement in. Why don’t we stop participating all together? Why don’t we live locked in and worried about when and where the next bomb will come in like many other countries do. Go back to dreamland! If we are not the power force, we will be the victims. It’s an easy concept to want peace, but realistically there are bullies who will not play by your rules- EVER!

We miss out on holidays, births, deaths, birthdays, parties, family, friends, dependable communication and medical care, new clothes, running water, bathrooms without disturbing bugs to watch out for, beaches and swimming, concerts, entertainment (No, the USO and big name entertainers really do not come here), pets, time to develop companionship and relationships, music, TV…too many things.

I am here because I love my country. I’m here to support my country, to stand by every soldier, to fight with them by taking care of them. I have seen the local people scared & afraid, cold & hungry, but I have also seen them smile as we work side by side together with a common goal. Have you? We serve without thanks or medals or glory. No one even counts contractor
death, (we are such peons), and more of us have been killed, as shown in the latest tallies, than soldiers. They shoot at us, torture us and kill us and even drag our dead bodies through town – we are not immune. No walls or monuments will be erected in our honor. Americans are here with one common goal. We love and support each other and stand for an idea- FREEDOM & LIBERTY. That’s what we do!

You may now be excused to move to France...