I know that all my buddies in Afghanistan (and those that left for other contracts) have waited for my last blog...my thoughts from hell and a chance to say all that I couldn't while I was there for
fear of retribution and repercussions that always came my way. I'm sorry to
disappoint all of you. There is just no point to rehash the terror that Cruella
inflicted on all of us. Or that the owner allowed it. Maybe someday the bomb will
drop right in his pocketbook,(I pray not for that would probably mean death came for one of you), but I will pray for everyone's safety and an heroes strength for you all to get through it.
It's a job in a war zone...we all knew that going in. Granted certain situations
should be avoided at all costs. The Taliban does not play by our rules. For
instance, why put females in abnormally dangerous situations. (Jealousy...hate?)
Understandably in the US we are all equal. Qualified Men & women are allowed to
do the same jobs. But it is dangerous and irresponsible for a company to place
women in a situation where they're at unparalleled risk to self...like having to
walk alone (almost a mile to go to bed) through a company that doesn't abide by
the laws of the states. Or to place them alone in a hazard situation on a base
with no other women and unarmed. I did it and survived, but barely and I am also not young,
am more outgoing than the average bear and I did have an advantage as the locals
called me sir. You don't see the military allowing anybody of any sex to walk
alone.
Many countries do not understand women as leaders or anything of substance. I have many
local friends and I do adore them, but the culture is what it is. And if we're
going to play in someone elses backyard, we need to abide by their rules. It's
something that is not addressed and there has already been too many contractor
incidents to ignore it. There is a simple solution for the medics in addressing the housing
needs, (placed so far away from the clinic as to be useful in any
emergency situations), where they may then report quickly in times of crisis. If you're going to play Army- play by the buddy rules. And insist on stations based on need in quick response areas as the military does. Note: Hazmat waste and medical should not be side by side
Then there is the "new" thought process that the work is in an "occupational
health clinic". How ridiculous is that in the middle of a war zone? It's OK to
keep your head in the sand in the middle of a huge base with thousands of
soldiers to protect you- if they choose to, but on a tiny FOB how are the medics
prepared? Medics must be ready for any situation that will arise due
to the unpredictability of war and the enemy. For shame to prepare them for
anything less. I realize that I was in more hazardous situations than most, (funny...move the old girl around repeatedly to the most dangerous spots), but I knew where I was and made my own preparations and handled it,(doing my own thing paid off and I kept my life). How many will be ready after going through an orientation based on health assessments and excel spreadsheets.
Medics have a job that they are trained to do. Placing young, inexperienced, untrained
workers in positions of business to make knee jerk, emotional decisions based on
favoritism is a shoddy way to run a business. And to ignore the medics that are equipped and have business experience in favor of the loyal subjects is laughable. Would real loyal subjects destroy your business? Think... The turn over in workers is unbelievable. Somebody will get seriously hurt and I am glad I am home with my nightmares and anger to rest and live another day.
Sure I miss Afghanistan and I might be back. I was offered a few jobs in other
fields that saw that I'm a damn good worker. I loved my friends and the adventure of
competing outside of my comfort zone and the absolute knowledge that I made a
someone elses life better. To be terrorized by the one's that we needed to be
on our side for our safety and to support our effort and then to let it go on is
more than manipulative and irresponsible...it looks to have been the business
plan.
Those are my thoughts and I hope to helped save a few more of my friends. My blog was not intended to bash those that employed me. It was meant to keep in touch with family and friends and give them little stories that would let them rest easier about my choice to work in the sandbox. It was difficult and most stories they will never hear about. But, If I can make it, so can you. Keep your head up and be prepared from the enemy- expect it, depend only on you. You are in a war zone. Never forget it. Good luck and safe keeping to you all!
I will write again when I decide on my next adventure. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone all around the world that followed me and supported me.
Please keep supporting our troops!
Sunday, October 7, 2012
I'm home!
I'm home! I took almost 2 days to get here due to a delay in Frankfurt and another malfunction in Charlotte, but it wasn't the seats coming unhinged like what's going on with American Airlines. I did ask the pilot, who was giving info and attempting to keep us informed, why I would want to get on a broken plane and fly across the Atlantic? I attempted to change flights, but they were not having it. They did nicely explain in detail about the potty's and how they needed water for them- something that was sadly lacking in our delay...a disgusting detail I won't soon forget. It's all part of the adventure.
I met some guys that were also contractors that demobbed (a term that we use meaning we're done and going home). I was wearing my grubby running pants and a tshirt, knowing that my voyage home would be long and I wanted the most in comfort. They came right up and asked where I was stationed. Contractors attract like a fly to flytraps..we really stick together. We were together until Charlotte, where we said our good byes at baggage claim. They were great fun! Due to the delays we had all missed our last flights home and had tentatively planned to meet at the airport bar. A couple was there asking the guys (dressed in Army shirts) questions about living and working in Afghanistan. I stood by invisible. The guys picked up their Samsonite and as my bag came through I remarked how it was trapped in with other bags. Everyone was helpful to try to snatch my described "big bag," their assumed target a big black suitcase. I instead grabbed my huge desert sand wheeled army duffel and threw it over my shoulder. As I walked away, I heard the female part of the pair exclaim, "she's was there too..wow, she sure is strong". It cracked me up!
I'm home. I don't know where I'll work next or when I'll go again. I'm leaving it with God and I have faith that I'll know when it's time to go again. There seems to be many options, but the last year has worn me out. I left America for adventure and a job. I came back successful in mostly filling my goals. I will stay focused in completing the rest and cleaning out the cobwebs that were built by a poorly run company.I offered loyalty and experience and a work-aholic ethic and they took it and stomped on me over and over. Thankfully I'm strong and grew. And I'm home!
I met some guys that were also contractors that demobbed (a term that we use meaning we're done and going home). I was wearing my grubby running pants and a tshirt, knowing that my voyage home would be long and I wanted the most in comfort. They came right up and asked where I was stationed. Contractors attract like a fly to flytraps..we really stick together. We were together until Charlotte, where we said our good byes at baggage claim. They were great fun! Due to the delays we had all missed our last flights home and had tentatively planned to meet at the airport bar. A couple was there asking the guys (dressed in Army shirts) questions about living and working in Afghanistan. I stood by invisible. The guys picked up their Samsonite and as my bag came through I remarked how it was trapped in with other bags. Everyone was helpful to try to snatch my described "big bag," their assumed target a big black suitcase. I instead grabbed my huge desert sand wheeled army duffel and threw it over my shoulder. As I walked away, I heard the female part of the pair exclaim, "she's was there too..wow, she sure is strong". It cracked me up!
I'm home. I don't know where I'll work next or when I'll go again. I'm leaving it with God and I have faith that I'll know when it's time to go again. There seems to be many options, but the last year has worn me out. I left America for adventure and a job. I came back successful in mostly filling my goals. I will stay focused in completing the rest and cleaning out the cobwebs that were built by a poorly run company.I offered loyalty and experience and a work-aholic ethic and they took it and stomped on me over and over. Thankfully I'm strong and grew. And I'm home!
Friday, October 5, 2012
One more day
One more day and I can't wait to go home, but I will miss Afghanistan horribly. I have met the best people here. A support system with every department, so far from home. The experiences we shared so like each other and a wish to go home and find good paying jobs. It was with one foot in front of the other, living one day at a time...and always the same ground hog day. The only thing to break up the day was an attack- but even then we became so complacent until faced with the enemy. I prayed every single day I was here for the soldiers that went outside the wire and for all of us inside.
I will also miss the land, so harsh and wild and so beautiful with the hope of what could be. The mountains that are black from poison dropped during the Russian assault where nothing will grow for however long, still stand majestically. The others, green with growth and wildlife and no apparent care of the war. The daylight hours empty of insects- it's even too hot for them. The shepperds as they tend their herds fearful of us 'til a quick smile and friendly wave brings us together if only for a moment. Sunrises and sunsets that are only seen on postcards. Even the experience of dust storms, so outside the box for me, that lingers with every breath that I take, even as I prepare to go home.
Leatherneck is the last base that I will make home. When I first arrived, I ran into so many people that I have known from many different bases...all together again. I never had to go through the awkward "getting to know people" phase here, in fact at one point it felt like I was a "Make a Wish" kid going to Disneyland for the last time. So it was with shock and lots of tears that many have dropped by to say good-bye. We've exchanged home information and promised to always keep in touch. I was especially touched that some of my patients came by to say farewell. And last night, I was told to meet for dinner to say good-bye to one of the docs that was moving on. Tired, I was the last in, so when I heard the yell of surprise and looked for Doc Isis and then realized the surprise was on me. Of course I cried, so touched by the care and thought of my co-workers and friends who I will really miss. The party came complete with pizza, near beer and a cake...adding on to the 10lbs the I've gained while here- who cares! I've had the best time!
I will also miss the land, so harsh and wild and so beautiful with the hope of what could be. The mountains that are black from poison dropped during the Russian assault where nothing will grow for however long, still stand majestically. The others, green with growth and wildlife and no apparent care of the war. The daylight hours empty of insects- it's even too hot for them. The shepperds as they tend their herds fearful of us 'til a quick smile and friendly wave brings us together if only for a moment. Sunrises and sunsets that are only seen on postcards. Even the experience of dust storms, so outside the box for me, that lingers with every breath that I take, even as I prepare to go home.
Leatherneck is the last base that I will make home. When I first arrived, I ran into so many people that I have known from many different bases...all together again. I never had to go through the awkward "getting to know people" phase here, in fact at one point it felt like I was a "Make a Wish" kid going to Disneyland for the last time. So it was with shock and lots of tears that many have dropped by to say good-bye. We've exchanged home information and promised to always keep in touch. I was especially touched that some of my patients came by to say farewell. And last night, I was told to meet for dinner to say good-bye to one of the docs that was moving on. Tired, I was the last in, so when I heard the yell of surprise and looked for Doc Isis and then realized the surprise was on me. Of course I cried, so touched by the care and thought of my co-workers and friends who I will really miss. The party came complete with pizza, near beer and a cake...adding on to the 10lbs the I've gained while here- who cares! I've had the best time!
Saturday, September 29, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
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!
Monday, September 24, 2012
7 more days......
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!
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