Flu Shots, get your Flu Shots!

This week we are giving mass flu shots through-out the camp. I'm the no pain girl. I have studied and took classes on how to lessen a patients pain and even how to relieve pain- But shots? There's no getting around it. It Hurts!

No one likes to get fooled into a shot. You know the game, "Look, there goes Johnny Depp", to make them turn their heads while you stab them in the deltoid. You have to approach it with kindness and respect. So I started out with the, look the other way- stab. This works on 50% of the people. The others are peeved! Capitalize that!!!

I had a lady that was wiggling and panting and moving in ways no human should while reminding me continuously that she hates shots. I merely swabbed her arm to elicit a blood curdling scream...at which point I secretly poked her...but soothingly I showed her the alcohol swab while I wiped her arm and said, "all done!" She opened her eyes in disbelief and I even had to show her the pin prick. She had not felt it.

The Indians, Napalese and Pakistani's stand in line like it's a big screen TV give away and Thank you for their shot. It's health care that they don't get at home.

I did get a huge man that was afraid- deathly afraid of shots. I said a quick prayer that I wouldn't have to catch him should he faint. We did breathing exercises ala Lamaze. I figured the extra oxygen wouldn't hurt. Just when he was ready to push that baby out, or in this case exhale hard, I poked him. He didn't feel a thing and it's a fact that you can't feel pain and exhale out hard. You can't do both. Are we not amazing machines!  Unfortunately, the anticipation did him in and although he didn't weeble, he did wobble on out, but he didn't fall down.

Then there's the man that came in with a forged note from his doctor. Nice try! And some of the kids are hiding...out of sight, out of mind- LOL!!! This shot is a requirement to stay in country. You get shot or you go home. Hey, I should be a slogan writer!

During a break, I strolled out for a smoke and everyone cleared out quick like. Now come on! Did I look like I had needles sticking out of my pockets? Hey! What an idea. I'm afraid by Wednesday I'm going to have to lasso and 4 point people into compliance. Not that I wouldn't mind drop kicking a person or two around here... Oh, none of the peons like me.  I also wouldn't mind tackling some of the cute guys around here , but I am trying to stay age appropriate.

It is very cute how some want to show up their friends and jump in my seat excitedly and even offer to take another for their buddy.

Then there are the ones that ask if the shot hurts. I reply that," I don't feel a thing." It was real funny until last night after loading hundreds of doses without gloves that I got vomitus selectus and runsarrhea. That's my medical term for I got the flu... a mini version. No more Ha! Ha! for me...

I have an idea! Let drop flu bombs on the Taliban. They'll be so busy doing the poopie shuffle and writhing in fever pain that we can take back Afghanistan and declare peace in the land.  Unfortunately it spreads like wildfire and I fear the good people of Afghanistan would suffer. Flu deaths are impossible to predict, but range from 3,000- 40,000 in a year. The complications such as pneumonia can kill you too. So get your flu shot!

A fluff day

                     

Today I met a couple of guys from the Philippines. I love meeting people from all over the world, but people from the Philippines I have an automatic in with . All I have to do is tell them my last name- Briones. They then asked me where my family is from to which I respond- Mexico. They always bust out in laughter. In the Philippines, the name Briones is like Robinson in the US. I reply that we swam a long way, (while mimicking the back stroke for effect)...they always remember me.

People come and go all of the time. This is also the worse part of being overseas, like the military. You make friendships and before you know it someone is transferred elsewhere. It's like commodities- supply and demand. Except here, they will trade a FN (Foreign National- anyone outside of the US) for an American to keep all things equal. I've heard that it's by the contract of the particular company. Something like the hospitals in Detroit that can only hire half the staff in Canadians and other foreigners, unless there's special need. Then they can hire more. It makes no sense. You may have a great team, but then they'll need an American elsewhere and they split up the team. It happens to all nationalities. I have a Bosnian friend that was ripped from the FOB (foreign operating base) to go up north to another FOB. Then we found out it was an equal trade because there were not enough Americans at that base. Well, I think that they should hire more! I know the world struggles with unemployment and low wages...but so do we. I have 6 friends cleared and waiting to come- hire them! Problem solved. I believe I'll work on world hunger next.

We write and promise to see each other again. It does give you something to look forward to. I bet it was like mail call back in the day for the military. For example: my friend Jackline, (from Kenya) wrote to me from a former base that I was at. She wanted to tell me all about the guy that she liked, (from India). I just happened to remember this man because it was odd to see a tall, muscular, very handsome, GQ kind of guy that was also Indian. So I say good taste Jackline. I would love just once to measure the speed on her when she's talking. I know it would be in excess of 110 mph. She talks like she's running out of time and combined with her accent made for some funny chats. I once said that what I did was Stuuuu -pid and that made her laugh so hard. Now it's like a code word. very cute! But emails are the best. I'm still getting them from the tiny FOB that I left behind. I was only there 2 weeks and I've been gone almost a week. Good people were there!

But I have some great friends here at Dwyer too. The last time I left, some threw a party...hmmmm, that doesn't sound too good now that I read it in print. And I even got a cake- and not in the face. FUN! I witnessed a few wonderful parties here. One group was having a surprise birthday party for one of the guys who dressed as a girl and jumped out of a wrapped up box. It was hilarious. The guy looked better as a women and I heard he got quite a few numbers! The Indians had a birthday party for their friend. They walked out with this elaborate cake, wishing him a very happy birthday, then each of them grab some cake and smear it in his face. So much fun! Even though the birthday boy expected it and you could see it on his face that he hoped they would not do it this time...it was all in fun and what a cultural difference. I'll have to surprise someone in my family with a very Indian birthday! That will keep them on their toes!!

But I'm missing my family and friends from back home too. I still can't keep the time straight here, so if I dial you up at 2am please do not hang up on me. I'm a very desperate person...no really, I just can't keep the time difference straight. Love you all!

                          

Send me a parka, I'm freezing!

Winter is officially here at the Sandbox. We had a little sandstorm, then a little rain and waa- la...winter. It dropped at least 40 degrees over a few hours. I been taking a lot of crap over my luggage, which really wasn't that much for a girl- I might add, but included an all seasons coat good up to/down to (?) 20 below- hurray! It is cold at 33 degrees here. The poor Kenyans are layered like Ralphie's little brother (The Christmas Story), and I'm waiting for them to fall over from the layers- insert chuckle here! You can definitely tell who comes from the north. They are still walking around in short sleeves, in fact, I saw a Bosnian guy who had just jumped out of the shower and came for his bedtime smoke in......drum roll.... shorts and a t-shirt....really! I'm from Michigan and you don't see me acting a fool. But, I've also had a tiny little thought that I was switched at birth with a kid that's enjoying hot weather in Texas. I just can't explain looking exactly like the family that I'm with.

Another thing about getting cold here, it stirs all of the critters. I've seen snake trails in the bunkers and rat foot prints...OK they are probably mice, but who cares when they're climbing into your sleeping bag. Everything's trying to find a warm spot.  It's really hilarious to hear people scream over the radios that they need vector,(exterminators) right now to... and vector doesn't respond. I can't tell if they are busy as all get out or if they're giggling on the other end. There is talk/rumors going around of a rat infestation across the street where the poorer foreigners live. They sleep 80 to a tent....whew! I could barely tolerate the 12 princesses I was stuck with. Back to bugs... There are also these nearly invisible spiders that can do a number on you when they're biting a trail up your arm. All things are biting and trying to store up a fat layer. We have very tiny lady bugs. Precious name...lady bugs. We all know that as the world had evolved and the weaker species has been winnowed out, so has the lady bug who has strapped on killer pinchers becoming smaller and meaner.  We have had 2 cases of this little undesirable lady crawling into ear canals.  I was the lucky one who knew what it possibly was and flew out of bed to make a night time trip to the clinic where I tried to drown the bitch.  Remembering that she might float, I put my ear down and shined a flashlight and she swam right out where I promptly smashed her!

The army really hooked me up for the cold! There's 3 colors of sleeping bags: red, green and back. Red are soft and cozy if you need a little warmth and it's 60 degrees outside. Green are good until about 30 degrees. Black is good until 60 below. So I walked in initially to a new clinic in a new setting, Sept 27th in Kandahar when it was 140 degree- welcome to Afghanistan! and everyone laughed at my black sleeping bag telling me that it will be too hot and I'll never need it.  Next base that I went to, same thing. The girls were laughing telling me I should have brought linen from home.  How could I sleep comfortably wrapped up in that?  Well ...Ha!Ha!Ha!  Who's laughing now.  No one was expecting it to get this cold this early in the year.  Even with the space heater in the room cranked as high as it will go, as soon as someone opens the door the heat goes out and it's back to square one. But, I sleep snugly and very warm and comfortably! Thank you US Army!

Time for bed...please pray that my black sleeping bag is still on my bed! Nite all!

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling....

                                 

I'm on the move again... from Howz-E-Madad back to Shangri- La...

I loved that little base. What a ring to the name...Howz-E-Madad.  There was a coffee shop complete with a hooka pipe, though I never partook of that.  And it was great fun meeting my friends up there and watching the Afghan army drive like Batman, and the Americans as they acted like indulgent parents .  And for a little base they surprisingly had lots to do.  Like one night, one of the girls came and got me after work for aerobics class. Now, I'm thinking...WTH??? (my little joke to Colleen. It's my signature saying), I'm tired!  Aerobics should be first thing in the morning.  Not when I'm dead tired. But, as the little joiner that I am, I went.  We were the only women there! No yippee this time.  As every women secretly knows- letting a guy see you in your sweats with drippy hair and smelly sweat under your arms and neckline is a definite no, no.  But since me and my new buddy were almost the oldest females there...I figured, who cares.  And the leader/ head Nazi worked my butt off! There was no slacking in her class...she had no sympathy that it was my first day and the class lasted every minute of an hour.  I tried to pause during sit ups...the kind with your hips in the air and your legs pointed straight up and then your head wrenched to your chest and sit up- whew!  You must do this 10 times, no pause , then count 10 back, then bend one leg and count, then bend the other leg and again.  It's exhausting to write about it.... and that was after 15 minutes of various other sit-ups, so I thought I deserved a little break.  The leader/head Nazi turned around so quick, looking back at me with her double jointed neck and busted I was!  She said, "Hey! 20 more because of lazy Ma-le'-a."  That did not endear me to the other classmates.  Army guy said, shit, and alternated with "move it Maria."  Really though, everybody was a good sport.  They were already chiseled and my clothes are looser for the effort.  I went every night, so it was no wonder I slept so well.

Speaking of sleep.... One night, I slept through an attack.  The tent mates asked what happened to me???  I'm like, "whatttt???"  I guess we had some loud mortar fire and guns were blazing during the night.  It's not like everybody got out of their cushy beds to hop into the cold, filthy, dark bunkers.  Everyone talked about it the next day so I'm sure it was something!  I told them that they could poke me awake or tell the Taliban to do it gently because I'm not always nice Maria when my sleep is broken... and I do have my brand new trustie knife... Really.... as I've said more than once, the good Lord did not put me here to blow me up.  I heard much gunfire and explosions the day before I left.  It even whipped my hair around, (can my hair get anymore burnt?), and I was sitting in my office tent.  No damage to the base.  So I got my leader co-worker who knows everything and everybody and we made a beeline to the mortar range (where they play- Take that you A_ _ Ho_ _!), to take pictures.  Unfortunately, they were clearing out the tree lines/ Taliban, ( that's off base a-ways)...nothing to see unless we go to the wall.  Bummer... I am in the middle of a war zone and I am fine.  Sometimes we run for the bunkers...and I usually have a deck of cards for that, though the old guard frowns on it.  We should be properly afraid and on guard at all times.  I figure that when my time comes, I want to be having fun or sleeping (which is fun too).  But winter is coming and like bears ...everything slows down.

Lastly, The Afghans can be quite cruel.  I don't want to put people in a box...OK sometimes I do, I'm human.  This story goes... one night I hiccuped and went to dinner at rush hour.  There was not a table to be had.  Normally, I would just go back to the office, but it was Prime Rib day and they even had horseradish for it, so I really wanted to enjoy this mouth watering treat "HOT" for a change.  I spotted one table with one guy at it, (let's call him Habib for fun), so I went for it.  As I got closer, I knew Habib to be someone very nice that I always waved to.  I sat and we had pretty good conversation and he started teaching me the Afghan language- Dari... but you could've heard a pin drop.  I looked around and the fellow diners were sneaking looks at me.  Later, my leader, (really given an official title so he can look down on others), had to talk to me about sitting with shunned people and Afghans to boot.  Apparently, if you have any kind of birth defects or deformities, you are shunned from your people.  His idea was that we should respect their custom and act likewise.  Besides, we're not suppose to mix with "those people" (Afghans).  Can anyone say "Bull Shit" faster than me?  So, I continued to sit with him at every meal. Habib knows the rules well and to be polite he would stay and eat with me, but then quickly move.  In which, I would move and join him and his friends.  Just 2 meals of this and a very high up Afghan asked to speak with me...very mannerly!  He asked if I would be interested in joining them, with the Army, for ANA medical training. This is a very huge honor.  But the leader guy had me work and attempted to take my place - it didn't work they didn't want him... but that's another story, another day.... 

We are having a sandstorm which is another picture opportunity for me!  Till next time...

                

ROCKS IN MY HEAD

Afghanistan.  If someone had told me that I would be living here and lovin' it, I would have said that they have rocks in their head.  I'm now at a quaint little base located near a freeway and with towns surrounding us.  A little history... it is the birthplace of Al Qaida.  Wonderful!  Who thinks that I don't get around???  Did you know that they hate us...I mean really, really hate us!  And, why would they like us?  We killed their leader, the 2nd in command and his family, and his brother's wife and her cat and cousins, uncles, nephews, all in the name of freedom and peace for all.  And we spend millions chasing them around the world and in & out of caves that many times start as holes in the sides of mountains or in the ground that are impossible to see until you almost fall into one.  So I'm thinking...what do they do with that filling from the cave holes???  I have found the answer! They dump them in a gravel pit for us to break up and use as walkways with fist sized rocks that you must balance on, carefully walking slowly as to not dislocate your hip or fall onto your ass.  The contractor youngsters are cute as hell as they skip along with their shredded jeans caked with blood...not really.  I wink as they pass by, careful to use my walking stick and my holstered Ben Gay.  If it's the master plan to send us all home with joint injuries, well guess again...we're made of sturdier stock.  We can take their chronic dehydration and climate at the end of God's earth and the blinding sun and sand that coats your pores and fills your lungs each and every day and lets not forget the pot shots that we endure day in and day out. 

    I actually got a peek at "the Afghanistan".  We are not allowed to wander off base, so I took the opportunity to go look over the wall.  It was pretty neat, first, because I was not suppose to do that and then because it resembles the base in as there's lots of dirt and not much else.  I did see a herd of goats that I was told doubles for missile launchers or suicide bombers.  I'm puzzled?  Why would a goat want to commit suicide?  Ha!  I could give you hundred of reasons starting with the wife nags too much!  I also saw their freeway with a bus that I'm sure was stolen from the Partridge Family.  The sand/fields that surround us, I've heard that after the rainy season it will be a sight to behold.  Fields for miles around will be filled with beautiful red poppies who's fruit will be harvested for the drug trade.  Yippee!  And more money to finance the Taliban.  OK...off politics and my soap box...

    Speaking of rocks and dopes...I am now working on a base with people, (no names please), that don't work well with others, especially women.  Apparently he doesn't mind them to fo-de-do-do, but he has had a time putting me in my place.  I'm sure some of you can relate to his pain.  Last week, I was sick...in no mood to play games.  The games he wants to play: "My skills are better than your skills", or the " I can make you work as late as I want", or the all around good timer game, " Let's not tell anyone the rules."  It's all fun and games until someone gets caught without an escort (me), and someone gets his pee-pee smacked for knowing better (him). And, I feel a little sorry for him...he doesn't know what he is getting into with the TWINS...meowww!

    Back to the Taliban...I was stupid enough to leave the little base coffee shop after dark and without my flashlight - very stupid, especially with the big-ass rocks, when to my wonders I happened upon a group of ANA (Afghan National Army- these are rumored to be the Taliban lovers).  I almost lost my head or my long lost virginity or maybe even my Americanese.  Thankfully, a good ole American Soldier happened upon this happy scene and whisked me out of trouble...I'm very thankful!  Now I have to listen to everyone I meet about not going out after dark and having an escort.  It got around so fast!  I told no one about this little hiccup.  So once again I took matters into my own hands and bought a knife.  Please save your pennies boys and girls and bail me out of Afghan prison, because you know if it happens again...it will not be nice girl playing back!  Then again, I doubt I will go out alone again...sniff

                                               

A Day in the Life of a Remote Medic

Today we have a guest story from my partner in crime...oopps....clinic. He is going to tell you of a story that happened shortly before I came here. In fact, he's full of stories, so as long as he wants to tell them.....

                      

Ready for this one? Yesterday, around 1000, I get a radio call from the FOB Mayor, (Base leader), to report to the military clinic. I figured one of our convoys or patrols got zapped and they needed extra help. I get over there only to find out three of the locals were attacked and each had multiple stab wounds. That was all the info we had so we figured, of course, that the Taliban was responsible.

When they brought them in, we all went to work. The guy I was helping had multiple stab wounds, including one to the top of the head. His vitals weren't to great, his O2 sats were 88%, and his AVPU was to pain. The other guy also had multiple stab wounds but was conscious and alert, so he wasn't to bad. Neither of these guys were offering any answers as to what happened and who attacked them (obviously, the first guy wasn't talking at all).

The third guy, which I was shifted to after we got the major interventions done on the first guy, had defensive wounds to his hands and a stab wound to his (L) scapula. He was easily, hands down, the guaranteed winner of this years academy award for best actor. After we had the terp,(interpretor), tell him to knock it off and act like a man we finally started getting some answers.

OK. Ready for this? Turns out this guy was the nephew of the other two who were brothers. Seems they got into an argument about their wheat field and it escalated into a knife fight! Don't know just what the problem was but once the whole clinic heard what happened it sounded like the audience at a comedy show. I guess not only do you have to worry about being attacked by the Taliban, the ANA, or the ANCop's, but you need to worry about being attacked by your own family.

Believe it or not, this gets better.

We couldn't fly these guys to KAF so the military arranged for a taxi to take them to the closest civilian hospital about 45 min away.  The two brothers were the only ones bad enough to have to go. These two looked like partially wrapped mummys from some Bella Lugosi movie. They were taken to the gate where the cab was already waiting for them. As these guys did the shuffle drag towards the cab bloody and bandaged, the cab driver looked at them and took off! It was hilarious! After an extra 30 min wait the cabbie did come back and they were taken to the hospital.

Another exciting day at "As Howz-E-Madad Turns."

                         

Love and kindness

The fellowship of mankind in such tragedy and despair...

My buddy is a grade school teacher in the ghetto of Cincinnati. He just sent me such an uplifting story about a drug dealer who killed another right in front of the home of his prized pupils. You could say, poor kids for growing up under such hardship or you can rejoice that the children have parents who love and cares about them and walks them to school everyday and volunteers at the school to make sure their child grows up to be the best that they can be. Hurray! Plus in the bonus round....another dead drug dealer!

Here on the base... I was so fortunate to come across a welcomed kindness. The women here have gone out of their way to make me feel welcomed. I know them all. The last base, it was a race to be top mom. Here there's no such thing. We all have our own space, small as it might be and we watch out for one another. There are only a handful of us here, but it's a great feeling to know if you need to go to dinner, someone will always go with you- even if they already ate. And the guys make sure you never have to walk alone through the dark streets where evil lurks, (ANA= Afghan National Army who kidnap and sell you for fresh underwear...well, they should, who needs sex with women when there's a nice willing FN nearby). The base is fairly safe, but I like to think of it as living in Palmer Park. You can't go near the perimeter or outside the gate and careful of the strays that sneak through...but other than that, you're OK. But the bottom line is when things are as bad as you can't imagine, a ray of light shines through and I've met some of the best, caring people in the world!

Point in fact, my friend who went to another base was under attack. Her partner left her! Not very EMS like...repeat after me: NEVER LEAVE YOUR PARTNER BEHIND!!!  And when she was shitting her pants an amazing thing happened... a man unknown to her at the time, appeared and promised not to leave her. He explained about being in the war in Bosnia and he stayed by her side throughout the mortars. He even took her to a safer spot...as the bunker blew up behind them. I like to think that Angels walk among us and he most definitely was one of them. Hope they hook up...she needs a good guy!

I am almost always upbeat, but I think my dad dropped me on my head when I was a baby...that's the story my family tells me right after they pass me the shrimp, (I'm allergic to seafood, but they always forget....so we have it every Christmas- LOL!!!! ). It really amazes me how loving and kind people can be in the middle of a war. You rarely see selfish, centered, out for themselves kind of people. It makes me feel warm and just like being at home with my own family. I'm done with the jokes for now....

Love you Fam!!