As Soldiers, we embark on a great journey. We leave to accomplish a mission in an unknown environment. Each day feels much like Bill Murray's never ending week from Ground Hog's Day and yet it provides enough change to feel fulfilling (or exhausting) at the end. Prior to leaving I was told that it deployment equaled long days and short weeks as one muddles through the inevitable process. As married Soldiers, we are issued a new title while deployed: geographic bachelor.
We are allowed to attend programs sponsored by BOSS (Better
Opportunities for Single Soldiers) and spend much of our time thinking
about our spouses. Deployments are hard on anyone, but I do believe the
spouses have the hardest job of all.
Spouses have a much different challenge. They are required to stay in the same environment that offers those familiar cues of a loved one being gone. The second half of a bed is empty; a chair is open at the dinner table. Chores and responsibilities are left behind for the other to assume. Everything must be done to accomplish the mission at home as well as supporting the Soldier down range with thoughts, emails, conversations and of course care packages to let them know you are thinking about him/her. Many people think this is just like their loved one being on an extended business trip, which is very different than having someone deployed.
My husband has taken all of this in stride. He has adapted his ability to cook and multi-task with two small children. He has learned to take time out for himself and still is able to send an email (or a few) a day to remind me that he's thinking about me. And I do the same. We attempt to fill our spare time with moments of togetherness despite our distance of nearly 9,000 miles. That distance is made shorter with the sound of laughter on the phone as another stressor or dilemma is discussed together. It is conveyed with the reports of children's activities at home. Little notes to of "good morning" to one as the other is preparing for bed. It can even be shared through a movie that is watched together on our "date" as we discuss the movie plot through instant messaging and chatting. I am in an area that does not allow me the opportunity to Skype due to bandwidth issues, but we at least have the ability to type out a message, call home at least once a week if not more, and just share a little bit of our time together despite the distance. Ultimately, a military marriage takes creativity, patience, and
understanding for the limitless amount of FRAGOs (changes) that occur in
any given time. It is not easy, but it will weather many things as long as there is the desire to complete both missions: at home and abroad.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Saturday, April 21, 2012
"I'm not entertaining any more questions for 50 minutes!"
“Ma’am, what time is the event for the fire fighters?” “Ma’am, we’ve got someone here asking about
the ECU.” "Ma'am, when do you want to schedule . . . " “Ma’am, how are we handling
accountability versus confidentiality?” “Ma’am,
who’s doing the briefing at 1400?” "Ma'am, are you listening to this conversation? What do you think we need to do about it?"
That's just a five minute look into my morning. Our morning meeting sets the tone for priority of business and my expectations for everyone. After putting out the instructions, there is still more that I need to do. It's incredible! I never thought there would be so much to have to answer in one day about little things. And then comes the practical joking and bantering that sounds some days like children bickering with the eventual, "Ma'am... did you hear that?" It's like hearing, "MOM!!! He took my truck!"
Stress levels have been high with a really high OPTEMPO right now, so asking me to make little decisions actually forced the words out of my mouth, "I am not making another decision for 50 minutes... fight it out amongst yourselves or wait until I am entertaining questions again." That so sounded like my Mom coming out of my mouth. I really thought I had a few more years before I started to utter those dreaded phrases that we all know happens. My boys will have already had me practice these skills on others much older than them. I've heard parents wish they would have learned some of the lessons for their teenagers sooner so they could try it again. I wonder if this counts as on-the-job-training in parenthood?
Friday, April 6, 2012
Experiencing What You "Need" the Most
It has often been said that the experiences you get are what you often need the most. There may be a client that walks into your office with a problem that you had been struggling with for a while and finally find resolution while working with them. Or you may have a difficult encounter that breaks you out of your everyday rut. Deployment is no different.
I spent the last two and a half years in a training position. My schedule was dictated for me. My position was created. I was a literal work-horse and due to being rated quarterly and having so many things dependent on how nicely I played with others, there was little room to speak up for anything. I learned for two years to literally bend over and take it. Deployment has given me that room to get outside that realm of just accepting what was proposed.
My clinic is working under my license; therefore, I make the decisions to what people are allowed to do and how much room they have to grow based on their skill level. Unlike what I had been through in the past two years, I wanted to leave a very open line of communication with my techs to make sure they can see where I am coming from and asking them to do. I have stated multiple times that I trust them, but if they feel something is over their head, please tell me and I will take the patient. I want to model how I supervise from the supervisors that made the most impact on my training; not the ones I dreaded walking into supervision or did not want to staff a case due to the personality and attitude of the supervisor.
While I was an officer in my previous clinic, I was not in a true leadership position. Being a leader for fellow captains is much different that being the officer in charge for the clinic. I have learned so much since arriving that I never dreamed was possible. I have developed a backbone so to speak, that has allowed me to really say what I expect to see happen. I have been trained to be an officer through the ROTC program and throughout my time in the Army, but there was little room to use those skills. Some cannot be taught, but just must be learned as time goes on. I have been grateful to have two fantastic NCOICs (one here and one at my home station). They are completely unaware, but each has helped me to develop into that role. I can sit back and think about my last two years of training, and I knew walking into this environment that I was prepared to be a clinician in almost every setting (one scenario still threw me for a loop, but I knew who to contact for additional resources). The best training I got did not happen until a few months before I left. My NCOIC helped to show me exactly what I could expect from the 68Xs (behavioral health technicians) and what I could expect from my NCOIC. In little ways, she was able to guide me toward that team approach with which I was unfamiliar. I was used to doing all projects by myself, but she gently guided me to asking some of the techs around me to help. I came here, and my NCOIC is picking up right where she left off. He’s continuing to guide that path to form the command team. It’s already a small team for the clinic, but I now understand what is possible. I know where my lane begins and ends and where his lane is as well. I do believe the NCOs job is the hardest. They are responsible for so much more than people give them create. They look out for everyone below them and above them. They make everything run, and anyone who does not give them credit for that is a fool!
I have also learned during this process how to stand up to those higher in rank than I am. I have listened to multiple soldiers over the years tell me that they don’t really respect the higher ranking soldiers, they just see the rank. I completely understand that right now. I have always had good people in those higher positions.
Sometimes I wondered where they based their decisions, but I knew they made it to that rank for a reason. Being deployed, I have learned that may not always be the case. There are ways to stand up and say that what is proposed is not appropriate. There are ways to hold one’s head up and keep driving on to fulfill the overall mission, not just the small momentary distraction. It was not an easy lesson, but I learned that one quickly. Everything must be learned quickly in this environment.
I spent the last two and a half years in a training position. My schedule was dictated for me. My position was created. I was a literal work-horse and due to being rated quarterly and having so many things dependent on how nicely I played with others, there was little room to speak up for anything. I learned for two years to literally bend over and take it. Deployment has given me that room to get outside that realm of just accepting what was proposed.
My clinic is working under my license; therefore, I make the decisions to what people are allowed to do and how much room they have to grow based on their skill level. Unlike what I had been through in the past two years, I wanted to leave a very open line of communication with my techs to make sure they can see where I am coming from and asking them to do. I have stated multiple times that I trust them, but if they feel something is over their head, please tell me and I will take the patient. I want to model how I supervise from the supervisors that made the most impact on my training; not the ones I dreaded walking into supervision or did not want to staff a case due to the personality and attitude of the supervisor.
While I was an officer in my previous clinic, I was not in a true leadership position. Being a leader for fellow captains is much different that being the officer in charge for the clinic. I have learned so much since arriving that I never dreamed was possible. I have developed a backbone so to speak, that has allowed me to really say what I expect to see happen. I have been trained to be an officer through the ROTC program and throughout my time in the Army, but there was little room to use those skills. Some cannot be taught, but just must be learned as time goes on. I have been grateful to have two fantastic NCOICs (one here and one at my home station). They are completely unaware, but each has helped me to develop into that role. I can sit back and think about my last two years of training, and I knew walking into this environment that I was prepared to be a clinician in almost every setting (one scenario still threw me for a loop, but I knew who to contact for additional resources). The best training I got did not happen until a few months before I left. My NCOIC helped to show me exactly what I could expect from the 68Xs (behavioral health technicians) and what I could expect from my NCOIC. In little ways, she was able to guide me toward that team approach with which I was unfamiliar. I was used to doing all projects by myself, but she gently guided me to asking some of the techs around me to help. I came here, and my NCOIC is picking up right where she left off. He’s continuing to guide that path to form the command team. It’s already a small team for the clinic, but I now understand what is possible. I know where my lane begins and ends and where his lane is as well. I do believe the NCOs job is the hardest. They are responsible for so much more than people give them create. They look out for everyone below them and above them. They make everything run, and anyone who does not give them credit for that is a fool!
I have also learned during this process how to stand up to those higher in rank than I am. I have listened to multiple soldiers over the years tell me that they don’t really respect the higher ranking soldiers, they just see the rank. I completely understand that right now. I have always had good people in those higher positions.
Sometimes I wondered where they based their decisions, but I knew they made it to that rank for a reason. Being deployed, I have learned that may not always be the case. There are ways to stand up and say that what is proposed is not appropriate. There are ways to hold one’s head up and keep driving on to fulfill the overall mission, not just the small momentary distraction. It was not an easy lesson, but I learned that one quickly. Everything must be learned quickly in this environment.
"Waiting Up"
I am the mother of a toddler and preschooler. My typical worries include not letting them fall down the stairs, run in front of cars, and making sure they hold my hand when in public. They may take a lot of energy from me, but for the most part, I can keep their little world safe. I can make sure that the most dangerous items are out of reach and that I have insisted that they hold my hand and consequences occur to teach lessons.
In my deployed environment, I feel like the mother of teenagers. Those who are old enough to do their own thing, but still need to listen, check in their whereabouts, and call home to let me know they will be late. Those little things mean all the difference. When they are gone for longer than anticipated, I worry. When they are late without any notice… I get irritated because I am worried. When they are finally home, I’m relieved. Normal worries would include parties, girls, drunk drivers, and other likely scenarios. Here my thoughts are filled with other dangers, other possibilities. I try to occupy myself with work or leisure items, until even those distractions do not allow me the opportunity to do something a bit different. At home, I would be watching for headlights to pull into the drive or the sound of keys in the door. Here, I'm listening to for the sound of a helicopter overhead as I anticipate their arrival. I know they are armed and probably better trained than I am in some areas of soldiering, but that still does not decrease my level of worry until I hear that cheerful voice announcing their return.
In my deployed environment, I feel like the mother of teenagers. Those who are old enough to do their own thing, but still need to listen, check in their whereabouts, and call home to let me know they will be late. Those little things mean all the difference. When they are gone for longer than anticipated, I worry. When they are late without any notice… I get irritated because I am worried. When they are finally home, I’m relieved. Normal worries would include parties, girls, drunk drivers, and other likely scenarios. Here my thoughts are filled with other dangers, other possibilities. I try to occupy myself with work or leisure items, until even those distractions do not allow me the opportunity to do something a bit different. At home, I would be watching for headlights to pull into the drive or the sound of keys in the door. Here, I'm listening to for the sound of a helicopter overhead as I anticipate their arrival. I know they are armed and probably better trained than I am in some areas of soldiering, but that still does not decrease my level of worry until I hear that cheerful voice announcing their return.
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