"The Ma'am"

I knew deploying would mean a loss of individuality.  It would require me to take on new roles, new positions, and sometimes a new definition of myself.  I never thought it would take away my name. Since joining my detachment, I have to laugh at my new name.  I am no longer called by my rank, my title of doctor or even “Doc,” rather, I have been dubbed, “The Ma’am.”  Conversations go something like this: “I picked up the Ma’am this morning and headed to the DFAC.”  I’m even still present in the truck during the conversation.  Questions will be asked, “Did you ask the Ma’am?”  “Are you here to see the Ma’am?”  I have never heard someone refer to their male Officer in Charge as “The Sir”. Discussing this with another female officer assigned to the aid station, I learn that her medics call her “The Ma’am” as well.  So, running down to speak with her for a second the other day I was greeted at the door with, “Are you here to see the Ma’am?”  “Yes, please tell her it’s the other Ma’am.”  I wonder what my new title will be when the restoration center’s officer in charge comes back from rest and relaxation in a couple weeks.

An unusual beauty

The sunrises over the top of the Himalayan mountains have been beautiful.  Over the top of the walls, you can see the sunlight cresting over the mountains.  They are visible for a few short hours until the dust of vehicles covers them again.  The beauty is surprising in this environment, reminding you that in the midst of a war torn and impoverished country, beauty is there for those that look.  The days have been warm and inviting, and spirits have been good.

The winds picked up late last night and made one feel as if they were sleeping, "under a flag pole" as my tech puts it. It sounded more like my bed was attached to the flag as the tent moved in the wind throughout the night.  I was surprised this morning to open the door and be greeted by fast winds and really wet snow.  They have been calling for snow, but nothing has happened until today.  The only one happy about the snow was the dog, who couldn't sit still all day for hopes of running outside and playing in the snow.  I do admit it was perfect packing snow... a few snowballs proved that quite well.  My techs do not understand their new doc yet, as I missed my target, but he turned around and fired one back at our NCOIC.  He was very surprised that I had thrown the first one.  While the snow gave us some playful moments, it made the day drag in the clinic.  It took out much of our systems until the snow past.  My conversation home was dropped.  Nobody wants to venture out in the snow to come see us, nor does anyone want to venture out in the mud to see us tomorrow. 

Now... the only reminder is the snow capped mountains when the sun sets over the top.

One week down

It's early Sunday morning here, and the sounds of people Skyping to their family surround me.  Today was the first time I got to Skype with my little guys.  The time difference, internet issues, and multiple other factors can make that a challenge.  I loaned out my equipment when I was done to the gentleman sitting next to me, because I understand just how important that little contact can be.

It's been a whirlwind of a week.  The team has stepped up to the plate and embraced a few new differences.  We're becoming more creative with the prevention techniques that are used, and had more than 300 contacts this week.  Our therapy dog, Apollo, helps to break through that barrier and create lasting smiles on people's faces.  He even flew to a close FOB to visit the vet.  He was decked out in a harness, saddle bags, eye protection and hearing protection.  That was a sight to see, and was probably responsible for multiple laughs and pictures from soldiers and contractors on this site.  He gave us our own personal show a few days later when we squeezed past on of my sergeants to jump into the driver's seat of the truck.  He was happy as a clam ready to go with us to the gym.  With four of us opening the doors to the truck to get him out, he was staying just out of reach jumping over the seats until someone finally got his treats out and shook them.  I don't know if he'll fall for that one again, but we all were laughing so hard that we were doubled over.  It was just what we needed to end the day.

Days seem almost too short to get everything I need to do accomplished, but there is the realization that tomorrow will always have more work to do.  I work 6 days a week with Sundays off.  That's a luxury here, but we need a recovery day after caring for others throughout the week.  I am still on-call, but I do not mind having to do such things.  Our hours vary depending on our mission.  If someone needs to talk at 8pm, we are technically off, but we still head out to see the person.  We're available 24/7.

I live on the opposite side of our site from the office.  It's not that far of a trek, but my techs pick me up every morning.  I typically walk back from the gym at night.  The conditions meet my expectations of a deployed environment with tent living, a 1.5 block walk to the showers and a mess hall tent that can seat 150.  The food reminds me of Taco Bell: we have six ingredients, how dishes can we make?  Friday nights are surf and turf... and we actually got lobster tails this time.  All in all... it's not a bad deal.

Since it's Sunday, I'm looking forward to going to the contemporary service here.  It's been a while and I am looking forward to a little time without having to worry about others.  It's either a great ending to the week, or a great start... whatever way you wish to view that.  I may just see it as both!

The little things

While it was a long trip, the arrival went smoother than I anticipated.  I had been warned about combat landings, and arriving in country was surprisingly smooth.  Due to time zone changes, I was traveling for almost two full days.  There was a short layover in two separate countries, but I spent the majority of the time in the air thinking about what was to come.

It's been a slow week for me as I've adjusted to crossing 12 different time zones.  I've adjusted to being in a frigidly cold environment and maintaining a sense of normal wherever I am.  The bathroom is a 100m walk from my temporary housing. The pipes have frozen in the bathroom, so showers are freezing cold if you get one, and the only toilet that flushes is the one that constantly runs.  There are four comforters on my bed at night, fuzzy socks, and a stocking cap, but I sleep and praying for the will to brave the cold in the morning. 

Despite the austere environment, it is truly the little things that are important.  It's the ability to call home and greet the kids as they are just waking up in the morning.  It's a cup of freshly brewed coffee in the office... even if it's not Starbucks or a Big Foot Latte.  It's an email from home... a good book to talk about that people can share.... it's a smile greeting me from pictures.

Today's surprise was the taped worship service from the church that arrived in my email box.  While there is only a 30 minute limit on computers at the MWR, I chose to ignore that rule tonight just to take a moment to worship as I have not had nor will I have the opportunity to attend worship in a while.  It's such a simple thing, but it has meant so much to me today.  It's a connection to home.  It's a moment to sit with 30 people and forget where I am for just a moment and connect with something so much greater.  It means so much to me, and I wish I could download this onto my iPod and listen whether I need just a little dose to keep me grounded.  "Where you go, I'll go... Where you stay, I'll stay... Where you move, I'll move... I will follow."

Weapons qualification earned.  All medical appointments met.  Legal paperwork is together.  And of course the bags are packed. I have spent much of my week getting to know some of the other individuals training through this site. We have talked and shared stories from different places in the military.  We have laughed at others' war stories.  We have even shared the challenges of our respective professions to see how others have handled similar problems. As the week has progressed, one of the first few questions out of anyone's mouth is typically, "Where's home?" and "Any kids?"  Men and women alike, the same questions are asked. Men will tell you ages and the children's names if you specifically ask, but the conversation typically ends there about family.  Occasionally, I will hear, "Wow... I bet it's harder for a Mom to deploy" from the men I am speaking to.  Yesterday, I expressed, "Well, I can't be in both shoes, so I do not know."  I finally got a candid answer as to why people think it is harder for a woman: the relationship that is shared between mother and child.  The men told me they watched their wives interact with their children and can only imagine what it must be like for them to be separated for any amount of time. 

I shared dinner with a group of female captains.  Our opening statements were about our children without asking if we had any, and then phones or ipods were talken out and pictures were shared.  One woman showed a picture of the ZhuZhu pet her son gave her to bring along.  I pulled my ACU rubber ducky from my pocket and showed it to the other women sitting at the table.  We shared stories of our children, laughed, and talked as if we did not need to go back to pack bags or finish that one last item before pulling out of the states for a while.  We quickly bonded over our children as we would have in the park, at the office, or any other setting.  It's a universal language for Mom's everywhere. 

What made me even more impressed, was this was neither one of these woman's first rodeo.  One had deployed a few times and she expressed the plan she had for her child each and every time.  Of course it's hard, but there's also a bond developed through these hardships everywhere: one with family and the deployed spouse, mother to mother, and across many generations who have done this before.

Central Issue Versus a Packing Pro

I believe I have mastered the art to pack four people's clothing for a week long trip in just one large checked bag that way there is enough space left for diapers, toys and other items necessary for such a long trip.  When you travel by airplane, there is a limited amount of items that can be taken without paying additional fees, so one must learn how to pack.  Today the Central Issuing Facility (CIF) challenged these skills.

We drew all of our equipment today, and those of us not lucky enough to have memos from out command stating that we did not need such items as intrenching tools, were forced to draw every item.  I walked out of the warehouse with three full duffel bags and a ruck sack.  I had been so proud coming down here that I had only a half duffel bag full of necessary items (physical training clothing, gym shoes, under garments, etc.) and of course there was enough room left for my pillow.  If you ask my husband, I am very picky about my pillow and that is an item of luxury for me to take.  I make it back to my barracks room to see four full duffel bags and a ruck sack large enough to pack the family for a week long trip.  How in the world am I going to reduce this by at least one bag and then still carry these bags with me from my drop off point to my quarters in country?  One idea comes to mind: UPS.  I can ship unnecessary items either A) to myself in theatre or B) to home and them do an exchange just before I come home so my personal items go home and these unnecessary items come back to me to turn into CIF.  That would leave me with just my carry on luggage, which can sustain me two or three days if necessary. I am surprising myself with my skills to consolidate, and it looks like I may be able to reduce the amount by a full bag with appropriate packing.  I am also hoping that one bag can be placed in a wall locker never to be opened for items that are necessary, but I hope to never have to use (such as a parka that will go to -30 degrees.) 

I got a chuckle while learning how to put together the pieces of our body armor, which features an improved quick escape by pulling a single chord. We had a 30 minute block of instruction on how to put on, take off, quickly disassemble and then reassemble our equipment.  By the time I had made it back to the table to try, I found my tablemate had already begun and his equipment was spread across my own.  Being a much lower ranking officer, I decided to step back and watch as he was assembling as to not get our equipment mixed.  I politely answered questions, and then decided that I really wanted to have a warm dinner tonight, so I started assisting him as well.  Just when I thought he had it, and he was seeming much more confident, I turned to begin with mine.  I had a few more items to secure and I watched my tablemate proudly pick up his equipment and place it over his head, to have it fall apart in pieces on the floor again.  Thank goodness for skills sets such as not showing surprise or horror and not laughing at those same looks as they came across his face.  Of course, the next thought is, "Why was I so selfish to stop when I did, because then he wouldn't have to start over?" A few moments later, he was looking over mine to see if I had succeeded in remembering the step he had forgotten.  I think neither one of us will forget that experience with different lessons learned: attention to details and patience even when I would much prefer to satisfy my own personal needs.

Update: This packing guru had everything consolidated into only two duffel bags and a ruck sack... until I remembered that the plates for my body armor had to be packed a special way to keep them safe.  So... while I could probably still do only two duffel bags... I have three as to be within the weight limit and everything in one piece (hopefully) when I arrive in country.

A graduated sense of separation

My time in the states feels just like another trip away from the boys. Cell-phones are still working and I have access to talking to Kevin while waiting.  And there is no shortage in waiting.  

The final preparation feels like two days of training packed into seven.  Early morning formations in a different time zone mean early bedtimes and not much time to call between naps and bedtime.  Many hours are spent wishing for something to do and feeling confined to the compound. There are many different levels of readiness for those coming through this course.  Many of us were screened at our posts and viewed as 100% complete equating to more time on our hands waiting for the next formation, a chance to workout in the gym, or waiting for the next meal so we have something to do.

I realize how tied I am to technology.  The wireless internet has been down for a few days, so favorite past times are not possible, neither is Skype.  Tonight was the first time I had the opportunity to see the boys.  It was fun to watch them play and be their normal silly self.  My husband read the baby's current favorite bed time book, "Over There."  My oldest has it memorized by now and is reciting it along with Dad.  At the end, I see the little guy lean down and give me a kiss.  I wish I could be there to receive that kiss myself; however, seeing it is second best. 

Opportunities present themselves within the numerous waiting periods.  I am learning not to waste them. During a large block of down-time, a group of docs went on a shopping trip to spring us from the compound and make a few connections.  We had a sense of normal in the midst of preparation. A trip to the surplus store, an office supply store and of course, a coffee shop meant that we were human. (And a friend made who's favorite coffee shop is also BigFoot!) Had technology worked, we might have all been connected with something else instead of with each other.  And yet, technology is what keeps us connected to our loved ones who are supporting us at home.  It becomes a delicate balance to use the resources we have at this time to create a sense of connection to both worlds: our home family and our deployed family.