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!!

So far away

I'm away from home and far away. I knew I would miss a Thanksgiving and opening presents at Christmas. There would be birthdays and New Years, all things that I've... been there... done that. I would only miss one of each and I'd be home before anyone got used to me being gone. It's only a year after all.  I thought those would be the hard times. I was so wrong.

My friend is in pain, and I pray. Her daughter is on life support and I can not help in any way, so I pray. I can't come home to be there for her, to help or to comfort her... I'm so helpless...so I pray. She will have a funeral for her baby girl , the only one she had. I know no details of what had gone so terribly wrong. Would it help me or anyone if I knew? So I pray. I pray for her comfort, her peace, her strength to get through this horrendous madness that no parent should ever have to face alone. And I pray for the Lord's love and strong arms to wrap around her every second of every day that she has to survive this earth without her child. And I pray with the believe that God will be with her every step of the way. And I'm grateful that she was brought to our church by her daughter to make unbelievably supportive, caring, wonderful friends that will be with her... God's will and God's walk, for such a devastating day.

 I will remember her beautiful happy face forever- RIP Angela

Hello Hell!!

                            In a new location and the 4th day of a cold, sinus thing. I've been doing a lot of sleeping and being sick and this is the perfect place to do it at. There is nothing to do here. The 3 of us work 2 hours in the morning from 6-8 and then 2 hours in the afternoon, 3-5. That's it! This is an itty, bitty base and any change would not be tolerated! That's OK... Not that I am all about work...sometimes I want to sit around just like the next guy- but not often and this is ridiculous! I was so needed here in Hell that I got a 12 hour notice that I was leaving Shangri-La. We were so busy the day I left that I barely had time to pack and forgot things. Now that I'm here, they are in no way set up for another person. 4 days later, and I still don't have Internet access- something very essential to do my job, well I need it to blog- don't I? I still haven't wrapped up my patients from the last base. We don't have the necessary equipment...example #1: who ever heard of have a medical clinic with nowhere to wash your hands? That's right, we do not even have a sink. It's disgusting working on patients with no washing in between them. Of course there is the hand sanitizer- NEXT!  Example #2:  There is no weight scale, quote,"too many people used it and broke it. They abused the privilege so we will not get another." So, I laughed, (you know me). A scale is really our way of making friends. It's the ring on a Merry-Go-Round that when you've caught it, you've really accomplished something. That is our scale. It brings the customer/patient in for a minute. It's your chance to make an impression. To be open and friendly...someone they can trust with their health.
 The bright side, (I'm all about a bright side), is I can feel that I've lost weight. Yippee! I was very resistant to this change in bases. I loved my last location and had friends. Everyone there smiled when they saw us coming. People crossed the street just to say HI! Patients came into the clinic sick and most went right back to work trusting that the care we gave would fix them up. Why on earth would anyone want to break something that worked so well? Poor LaDona is somewhere else and unhappy too, under a different gestapo. It seems to be a trend here...being unhappy. It amazes me that people stay the full year or even do more than one contract. You can tell who the new people are. They are the ones who smile and still have hope. Everyone looks at you like you are an alien...or the wait and see you in a month look, when you are as unhappy as them. The loners do stay for years. They do their robot jobs and exist day to day. AND mean people, they're everywhere, making life miserable for everyone.
 Medical people can be cruel. They have a power all their own, because they can send people home. We are here to keep the worker's healthy, happy and working. They come in sick or injured. Most won't even come in to any clinic for fear that they will get sent home, and sometimes for good reason. Or they come in when they can't manage their condition any longer, get care, medicine...and not come back for their follow up not chancing another opportunity to be sent away. I've found that many people can be borderline healthy and still manage to pass the physicals and come to work in Afghanistan. The conditions here are horrible. It's the nature of Afghanistan...very harsh, sand gets into everything...what you eat, drink, breathe. I once read a story about the making of," Jesus Christ Superstar." During the big dance scene in front of the temple ruins, they were diving into the sand and the director wanted a BIG effect with puffs of sand rising among the dancers as they dove into the earth. They could've gotten just that kind of sand here in the ends of the world- Afghanistan. It is like a powder puff as you walk. It reminds me of "Pig Pen", from Charlie Brown.  You'd think that since we are so isolated that it would give us something in common and band together. Not at all. LaDona and I had that in common...taking care of people with compassion and dignity and making them laugh. Our patients thought that we were their friends and like family. Even the few that had to go home, were grateful that we cared so much for them. Not one yelled or cursed us. That's how it should be.
 There is no reason to look down on or degrade another human being. You don't say, if you don't take care of your feet I'm going to send you home. You don't yell at the ones who really can't speak English. Why should anyone have to say," don't crap in the showers" and, " no squatting on the toilet seats when you go to the bathroom." There is actually a sign for this with a cute little person sitting daintily on the seat, then the bohemian with their feet on the seat and posed in a squat. I think to myself...what is our limit of teaching? Is it OK that some people are not of the west? Is it OK to do your own thing your own way? Looking around, I saw no one who would do such a thing. But is there a way to stereotype such behavior. Is there anyway to tell what nasty things people do in when they are alone. Unfortunately not... we are all guilty of some pretty gross behavior.  I like to think your things are worse than mine. But, to be honest.... We try to be civilized and live in this world together. We try to be respectful of the next guy. AND then there's Mr Perfect, who can sit in judgement and spew his verdict and expect life as they want it. Is it any wonder so many people are unhappy!
So this is my mission. I choose joy! I choose happiness! I choose to be the nut in this chaos! And I choose to be delirious in my new home. There are many nice people here, and for this....I'll probably be sent home as the renegade that I am...stand by!
                      

I love working here - Oct 23 (late post)

    Any kid of contractor can really make some really good kind of dough when they go out of the good ol' USA. That's was a motivation for me!  Those tax free dollars and debt free dreams are stuff that gives you the warm fuzzy's and makes you sleep like a baby- right? Wake Up!!! Get your head out of the clouds. This is not champagne wishes and caviar dreams. There is no such thing as free.
My ears are now tuned to the, "if you do this____, ( fill in the blank) then you will get sent home. I spent the day walking around and listening to the threats... if you smoke in non- designated areas..., if you wear the wrong shirt..., if you fo dee do do..., if you are too cheery..., if you get caught in the lady's compound (men only)...and the ultimate nail biter, fear raiser threat- if you get sick....you get the picture. So suppose we get food poisoning. At home I'd be raising all kinds of hell and letter writing, but here you have to think. You do the "light fandango" as you race for the basin, because we are all friends and we are all in this together. So we heave chunks on the sly in the name of our good buddies or the faces that we see everyday. There are many good people here just trying to etch out their living and do well for their families. Hard working men and women who really deserve a break today. But, it is a military contract. Our bread and butter, and rules must be preserved for the general good of all. So the dilemma goes...

 

    I love working here. I am cramming so much new information in my head that I think every night- I can't take anymore! Then the 'morrow comes and I'm back to learning and studying and practicing. I do my walk back and forth to the DFAC (chow hall) and back and forth to the smoking shack. That's all the available free time for me. I watched a required movie that I am now requiring all of you to watch, " Camp Victory, Afghanistan." It shows some of the conditions and the atmosphere that we live in, (don't forget the sand...in fact, I bet it will take me a year to get it off my stuff when I go home.) and it was good movie too. Sometimes it's very hard to remember that I'm in the middle of a war zone. Then there's other times...but I always try to make the best of it. In fact, I was very sick yesterday. While running to my favorite private spot, I ran into someone I knew not at all. I said ,"excuse me", as I ran past her. She yelled out, " what's wrong with you, you are always so cheery." I was shocked that anyone noticed.

 

 I try to be a positive, motivating influence on everyone. I always have talked to everyone and anyone, which is serving me well here. It is amazing how many people that I have met and group with that are Christians. We draw each other like magnets....just saying. Never is it more evident than when I'm far away from home with so many different nationalities from so many different countries. I am still keeping up with my Bible studies, but more -keeping him before me. Also, we are in the middle of Muslim-land, ( they are all over), and I have yet to see anyone at prayer, (what is it, 5-6 times daily?) There is a mosque here...never seen anyone in it. Isn't that strange.... Just another point to ponder.

 

Miss you all and I get all of your comments even though I cannot see my own blog. So write! Is there anything that you would like me to write about? Or just drop a Hello to me!

See ya!

Stupid Me!‏

The owner of the company stopped by for a visit. I was excited to see him again as I had met him in training and he was nice and funny...really interesting and down to earth. However, I should've known. Let's title this blog- Stupid me! We had to clean house until it shined, not a big deal in the middle of the desert when you have to clean everything everyday anyways, but it would've been nice to have some normal cleaning supplies. We used itty-bitty wipies for surfaces and there was nothing to wash the floor with. We have some guys that come in daily to do this stuff, and they have all that stuff stashed. If I had a stash of cleaning supplies at my disposal, my 4X6 area would sparkle. But alas, I make do with alcohol wipes, tiny wipie's and brown paper towels swished around by my feet. Hey, it works! Never again will I take Mr Clean for granted. Never would I think a clean space would be so important to me. But we are in the middle of the desert and the sand is so fine that I even have to wrap my laptop in plastic. It's getting so bad (or I'm getting used to it), that the other night after a loooonng work day my southern buddy says, "let's go shower and hit the hay", and I replied- what for, we only get dirty again the minute we walk out of the showers. Thank you God for my nettie pot! A clean nasal passage is a definite "must have" here.

And snakes! I was so excited not to have seen a snake here yet. Then, I was walking in the dark without my flashlight and complacent, (Stupid me!) and BAM! I walked right over one. I was talking so I didn't notice right away, ( does that surprise anyone?), but then it registered and it had already slithered away. My buddy wants to check me in for hallucinations.

And back to today...perfectly nice people became raging maniacs, rude, above us all, when the bosses are around. Boy, I feel as if I'm back in Detroit at Joe Shmo ambulance company. Everyone was on edge. I made a quick get a way with my buddy for lunch. Busted!!! We were later told that we HAD to go with the group to dinner. Then, I almost missed the bus!!! Ha! Ha! But again I was busted, yelled at like the 2 y/o that I am, and away I meekly went. Ha! Ha! Ha!

 

So I don't have to rely on all the Linda Blair's of the world, I have my friends- well just LaDona who laughs with me all day and is in on the secret. So we went out to my favorite hang out spot- the smoking lounge. It was great fun as the Bosnians were having a party, it being Monday night and all. They seem to have these random parties for any reason and they are very nice. So we popped it and were given "near beer" and they had bought some snacks and I laughed so hard. There was even almost a fight! Good times!!!

 

I'll post some pictures at a later date.

 

Remember me in your prayers always!