I didn't sign up to be a policy wonk

So, I am kind of sort of in charge while people are out on Christmas R and R. You have two choices here, you can try and do as little as you can get away with, which some people do when they get to the end of their contracts, "EOC" as we call it, or you can stay engaged and try and get stuff done. I am trying to get stuff done. We have two new docs at KAF and I am trying to use and abuse them to get policies written and make changes for the better.
We are the physical exam center or "PEC" for Southern Afghanistan. We are supposed to do 20 physicals a day for people who are renewing their contract. We can't do twenty because we are using the clinic and have people come in at 0500 before sick call hours. We have been fighting to get a tent to make it a dedicated area to physicals only. We finally got the tent and they have been working on it, building walls, etc. to make it a free standing facility. We went over their to look at it yesterday and after many hours of work they have built two rooms. One of which we can use as an exam room, so we have gained exactly nothing.  They have one huge room to weigh people and draw their blood. It is about 5 times bigger than it needs to be. And we have one room to do EKGs and one room with paper thin walls to be an exam. We asked the power that be why it was designed this way and the answer was "that's how the do it in Fort Worth." Fort Worth is a hotel. And it's in... Fort Worth. We are a tent in...Afghanistan. Also the construction work is shoddy at best. It looks like a 6 grader did it after a night of drinking. Where are my movie construction dudes when I need them? We will make it work, we always do. Why is nothing easy here?
We have had a couple of people stick themselves with needles here. That's not good. So, I decided that we need a needle stick policy because we don't really have one. We have some policies but they are vague and hard to follow, so I tasked one of the Docs to write one. He banged one out in a few hours and it was good. I made the mistake of sending it out for comment. It went from two pages to 20, then down to nine. Turns out that someone else had written one a month ago but it was given to administration, never to be heard from again. No one told me about it. Then we got into an argument about where to put commas. Instead of two hours to get it approved, it is taking two days. It has been rewritten many times. It's back to 9 pages. I just made some changes and wrote "approved' by me and sent it out. Except I forgot to attach it to the email. Like you've never done that. And I sent it out in the wrong format. Word, .pdf, what do I know? But it's out and I now have another headache, Oy.

I AM MORALLY BANKRUPT AND SO IS AMERICAN AIRLINES

51 Days and I am out of here. EOC. "End of Contract." Christmas day here. We are working half a day. We went to Christmas lunch together at the British difac. Americans and contractors first then they redecorated for the British forces. Christmas crackers everywhere. I used restraint and didn't steal one. It was tough. I wanted one bad. But, Santa, I was a good boy. Turkey and roast beef for lunch. Christmas pudding for desert. All very yummy. Ate too much, just like back at home.
The day before, I was on the phone with American Airlines. Dyncorp buys your ticket here and back. I asked to be routed through London so I could spend some time in Jolly Ole. I will fly E out for a well deserved vacation. So I have my locator number and I call American airlines. I just want to make a stop over from Dubai in London. Instead of 4 hours I want ten days. Sounds easy enough. But noooooooooo. I have to pay the difference in fares. Ok I'll pay the $150 for a change of ticket plus, wait for it, $4000K. Four grand to change my ticket! All I want to do is change one segment. I couldn't even find a 4,000 dollar fare on their website. I could buy a ticket for $900. I went up the chain and got a snooty supervisor. I thought his name was Clarence. Turns out her name was Claire. Oops. Did make my negotiating a little more difficult. I asked for an explanation. None forthcoming. I finally got her to admit that it was a wee bit excessive. The word "can't" was uttered many many times. She said if she did this it would get her fired. Alex was across from me with a suggestion.  Cancel the ticket and get it applied to the new ticket. So I proposed this to my new, still employed for the moment, friend, Claire. She was trying so hard to be unhelpful. It was Christmas and this is American Airlines and they have a tradition of uncaring to uphold, after all. "We don't care, because, we don't have to." Too bad Southwest doesn't fly to Europe. I hung in there with my suggestions. Apparently there was a molecule of reasonableness in my offer. She would check. She came back after an eternity of being on hold to tell me that she was still checking and to thank me for holding. I wrote employee evaluations. She was back. Apparently the American Airlines computer was sticking to its guns of non-helpfulness. Still holding, I wrote three evaluations. This is the key, have something to do while on hold. Build a house, read "War and Peace" or even negotiate world peace. Anything to stay on line with them. She was back. Success, but one problem. I had scheduled my flight to fly British Airways. Nobody wants to actually fly American, we just want the mileage. Of course, BA flys non-stop LHR to SFO. Not good ole American. We have to switch in Chicago. In February. What could happen? "Fine," says I. Book it Dano. Or Clarence or, whomever. It had been so long that I forgot her/his name. Got E a flight. Of course, because I am a dumb-ass, I booked the wrong dates. Forgot about that losing a day thing. But rebooked within 24 hours and American waved the booking fee and we are golden. And I did not spend 4000 dollars. It wasn't free by any means but to spend time in London with my honey? Priceless...

A typical day. Except for the benadryl.

One of the perks here is having your laundry done. Because it is Afghanistan, it is not without its risk, of course. Risk one is that you may not get everything back that you sent in. Risk two you may get more than you sent in. Risk three, they don't rinse out all of the soap. Risk four, your whites come back battleship grey.
E sent me a duvet cover awhile ago and it finally needed to go to the laundry. I picked it up two days later and put it back on my bed, just in time for the weather outside to dip down to the thirties. Comfy and warm in my bed I snuggled deep into the comforter and fell deep asleep. Until I woke up. Itching. And covered in welts. WTF? OK, I have to pee. Brrrrrrr. A mad dash to the bathroom and back and I looked down to see that I was clearly having an allergic reaction. It finally happened, I am allergic to Afghanistan. Luckily, I am a highly trained Physician Assistant and realized that I need Benadryl. Which I just happen to have in my shaving kit, just in case. Now, where the hell was it? Search, scratch, search, scratch. Here it is. Cool. 50 milligrams down with water and back to bed. Into a deep sleep. One of the lovely side effects. Woke up in the morning, all good. Except I slept through the alarm. Oops. Happened again the next night. I realized that there was still soap in the duvet. Luckily there are washing machines around here, somewhere. Some even work. We rent rooms at the hotel across the street from Camp Hicks and I found out that they have really nice washers and dryers. So I meandered over there, acted like I was staying there and rewashed the duvet in plain water. All is good. No more itching. No more diphenhydramine. Ok, I wonder what else in my room will try and kill me? I'm talking to you, pillow case....

Call me an ambulance! OK, you're an ambulance...

It is getting colder here. It was 27 last night. And the power went out. Hence the heat went out. Brrrrrrr. Thank goodness for my comforter. Back on this morning. Note to DYNCORP: You gotta put Mr. Diesel in Mr. Generator...

The Pakistani border is still closed. We are wondering when we are going to run out of food and fuel. Food, they can put in an airplane. Gas, not so much.

I was at the Role 3 meeting when I got a call about an eye injury involving a power tool at the clinic. I talked to the folks at the Urgent Care clinic, now the "referral clinic," and they said to use the base ambulance, because they can take people straight to the Trauma Bay. When I drove back to the clinic I was informed that that had already happened. So we waited, and waited, and waited. No ambulance. WTF?  We have a radio that talks directly to ambulance dispatch, so I called them. They had no ambulance request. (Turns out that we had called the wrong number. Our "911" is a 12 digit number.) So, I made a request for an ambulance over the radio.I had to use our ambulance's call sign to make the request. An ambulance calling an ambulance. The dispatcher was a little confused. Don't we have an ambulance? Yes, we do, but I need yours. Ok, they'll send one. The crew arrived, just a little confused, especially when they had to walk by our ambulance parked in the driveway. But they were quite nice and took our patient. Probably because the crew was Australian. Americans would have bitched and complained. Not the Aussies. Just came, took a look at the guy, packed him up, and left. Fair dinkum, mate.

Where's Waldo?

The dogs of war, literally..

Afghanistan has one of the highest rabies rates in the world. Probably because there isn't one rabies vaccine for dogs in the whole country, except for military working dogs. There is a very strict no pets rule here but it doesn't keep people from feeding feral cats and dogs. People love their animals. There is a poster that we posted that shows a cute puppy. That has rabies. It doesn't have to be Cujo to be dangerous. Everything here is trying to kill you, including a cute puppy. Who let the dogs out? In Afghanistan, Satan, apparently. We had a worker who was accidentally bitten by a dog. Poor guy, his job is to dump the garbage at the garbage dump at one of the fobs and he was doing his job when a dog just walked by and suddenly turned and bit him on the leg. Rabies ain't no joke. Only three people in history have survived rabies. There are two types of injections that you need, a "Rabivert" which all of our fobs have and HRIG. HRIG is about $1200 a pop so it is only available at Role Three's. Like ours. This guy was out of our area but, because of the way flights are, we are closer, logistically. We could either medevac him here or send the HRIG there.  So I went down to the R-3 and pleaded my case. No problem, I was told just fill out the paperwork. Paperwork? Of course, it is a military hospital. While I was waiting, one of the bomb sniffing dogs was hanging out in the hospital with his handler.  He is a sweetheart and loves to be petted. He really should be a therapy dog. We have a therapy dog, but all the handlers agree that he is "useless." He is a big lazy black lab. "Igor" on the other hand, is a young bouncy Shepard mix. He even knows how to pose for pictures. Looks right at the camera. Ears up, adopts cute puppy look. He is super smart. And a handsome boy at that. His handler knows how much people miss their dogs so he brings him to the Boardwalk and other places so people can get their "puppy fix." Igor doesn't seem to mind at all. Beats sniffing out bombs.
 So there I was, petting a dog, in a trauma center, waiting for a rabies vaccine that I had to give to one of my Medics to fly to a fob for a guy who was bitten by a dog.
Yep, just another day in Afghanistan. Woof.

Step 2

Later I got a call from one of the other hub PA's about a guy who has a nose bleed that won't stop. He is on a blood thinner that he isn't supposed to be on, but he had made it around the entry physical and snuck by us. Now he has a nose bleed that nobody can control. He went to a Role 2 and had 2 "rhino rockets" placed in his nose. They are basically catheters that have balloons and a tampon on the far end that blow up to stop posterior ( way in the back of your nose) bleeds. They were sending him to us to find him an ENT doc to fix his nose bleed. He arrived later looking like a character from Star Wars. Actually a real war because his shirt was covered in blood.I explained to him that his nose may be bleeding because of his blood thinner and that he needed a blood test. I also explained that there may not be an ENT doc at the Role 3 and he may need to go to Dubai or home to the US. "Just send me back to my fob." he said. I explained to him that we couldn't do that because of his epistaxsis aka nosebleed. "I ain't going to Dubai, I hate Arabs," he said. I explained that we would send him to the Canadian hospital. "I'll just wait for my R and R on the 19th, then." No you won't. You'll bleed to death by then and you can't keep those things in your nose for 9 days,  you dumbass. Ok, I didn't actually say that, I just thought it. I went down to the Role 3 and asked if they had an ENT doc. "Negative," was the answer. I went back to my patient and explained that he has to go to Dubai. "Nope, I ain't going, " says he. I explained to him that he would have to move up his R and R and leave on an earlier flight. This took a good 20 minutes of explaining. I actually had to tell him that I was making him go home. More emails and phone calls. I wrote up his consultation letter and mad copies of all the pertinent paerwork and arranged for someone to take him to the travel office and get him a place to stay.
We were on top of the clinic watching the lunar eclipse when we got an ambulance call.You guessed it, it was for him. It turns out that he never changed his shirt or washed his face so the manager thought that he was bleeding to death.We checked him out and sent him back, to leave on the 0600 flight out of KAF.
The next day I went to get my appendectomy patient out of the Role 3 and take him back to his room. And who do I see? Nosebleed guy. Wandering around. I didn't give it much thought at the time, but...
I went to lunch and when I came back one of the Medics asked me,"Guess who's back?" "You are kidding me, he was supposed to be on a flight." I walked into the room and realized that not only had he missed his flight , he had pulled out his rhino rockets and was now bleeding all over the place. Dennis was in the room valiantly try to stop the bleeding. Unsuccessfully, I might add. While our new Doc squeezed the dumbass's nose together, Dennis went down to see if he could get some new rhino rockets. Turns out that our Role 3 doesn't have any, but they have foley catheters and nasal packing. Doctor B volunteered to repack him. I stayed out of the room. For fear I may kill his dumbassidness. I offered moral support and all that and poked my head in to see if I could do anything to help. Before anyone could answer, I closed the door. I'm helpful like that. The room looked like a slaughter had taken place. Took awhile to clean it up. We sent our patient back with a stern warning not to touch the packing in his nose. Emails and phone calls started flying. He needs to be out of here now. I offered to buy his ticket and drive him to the plane. Seriously. 600 dollars well spent. "No problem," said our travel and HR department, "we'll get him out of here." "He'll need a babysitter," I told them. "and don't let him pick his nose." He probably won't even change his shirt. We all imagine him wandering around the Dubai airport like Tom Hanks in "Terminal." "Mr. Dumbass, white courtesy phone. And try not to bleed on it."
Reason #2 for my migraine...

Yes, I'm slacking...

I had a migraine headache and it slowed me down a bit but I'm back and thanks to drugs and osteopathy, I am better.
So here's what's happened while you've been gone (where were you , anyway?)...
I got a call about a patient who was being sent to the Role 3 as a medevac for "a little chest pain and shortness of breath." No big deal. He was coming in at 2300 so I went to bed with my phone next to the bed. I figured they could call me if anything happened. I woke up, checked my phone and no call. All good. Around 100 I got a call that he was "ready to be picked up." Cool, I thought. I will toodle on down in the forerunner and pick him up and bring him back to the clinic, read his chart and ask him if he wanted to go home. I walked in to talk the the  PAD (admitting corpsman) who was gathering his stuff for me to take with him. As I was talking a doctor tapped me on the shoulder to ask me if I was here about Mr. X. "Yes I'm, " I said. "Ok, well he's intubated and has been given thrombolytics because I think that he has had another pulmonary embolism. He's still unconscious. Would it be easier for you if we tried to extubate him?" Um, you mean to get him into my SUV? Ah, cause I didn't bring a ventilator. Maybe if I drove with the windows down...
Turns out that, as they said in "Cool Hand Luke," we had a failure to communicate. He needs a medevac. Quickly. One with a bunch of fancy medical stuff in it. And a doctor, nurse, respiratory therapist. You know, the usual. "I'll be right back," I told the doc. I went down to the ICU and there was Mr. X. Not looking so good. I told the nurse not to extubate him (pull the tube out). "There's no way we're doing that," she said. I love ICU nurses. Literally. So off I went to start writing emergency emails. I told the staff at the clinic my story and that the docs will have to cover for me. No problem. They are great at pulling together and working as a team when they have to. So phone calls were made, emails were sent. Updates provided. Many trips back and forth to the Role 3. The pt.left at 0200 that day. He is in Dubai and actually doing better. Step one of why I had a migraine.

Never a dull moment

We have a new doctor, Alex. He's from Maine and is another DO. I am trying to train him as Larry, our Medical Director, is going home for Christmas. I am trying to show him the ropes, but the ropes here are not like ropes anywhere else.
Anyone who does medicine will tell you that one of the coolest feelings is when you come up with a difficult diagnosis and you are proved right.  We will also tell you that ya can't gloat because for every time you are right, there are three times that you were clueless. But, I couldn't help myself. A patient came to the clinic and the Medic told me he was stumped. He had weird abdominal pain and I poked on his belly and thought that he may have appendicitis. I ordered a complete blood count and he had an elevated white blood cell count, indicating that something just wasn't right. So off I went to the Role 3 to present him. The accepted him and I asked them to do a CT scan. I went back later to see how he was doing. The NP there didn't feel that he had appendicitis. And had decided that he didn't need a CT scan. "based on my clinical judgement," he said. I bit my tongue. They do us a favor by doing CT scans. No sense in pissing him off. I was bursting at the seams. "What clinical judgement?!" I wanted to yell. I thanked him for seeing my patient. I told him to call me when he was ready. We then started talking about all of the weird diagnosis we have had since we've here. I was fuming as I drove back to the clinic. His last comment was,"well the CT scanner will always be here if he gets worse later on." Ok, he was no longer my patient, but all I wanted for Christmas was a CT scan of his belly. No worries. I will deal with it. Maybe I'm wrong. Later on, I realized thatI hadn't heard from them, so I sent Larry down to pick the guy up, because I was busy in the clinic. He drove down there but returned without the patient. "Where's our guy ? I asked. "In the operating room, getting his appendix out." He said. I couldn't help myself. I jumped up and gave myself an imaginary high five. Even a blind squirrel finds a nut now and then. Turns out that his appendix had slipped up and behind another organ, giving him an unusual presentation. I guess sometimes the voices in my head are right. Sometimes...

Stuff...happens.

The advantages here are few and far between here but there are some. One is "free mail." No stamp required for mail back to the US. So, channeling my inner Maurice Caplin, I have been doing Christmas cards. There is also the British Post, where stamps are 75 cents and the mail gets to England quicker. It is a good thing that I had something to do. Our IT department was "improving band width" and shut down the internet for 4 hours accidently. So no internet, no phone and no printer. No problem, I just did my low tech Christmas cards. I also bought a tiny battery operated Christmas tree for the clinic and, for equal time, a menorah. Ok, not a real menorah, a gift bag with a menorah on it. Which I taped to the wall. Probably a bad idea to light it...
We had a rocket attack last night at 0200. We received the "all clear" at 0202. Didn't even make it to the bathroom. This is my kind of attack. I wonder if someone leaned against the button? A "butt dial" rocket attack...
We had a new doctor arrive here yesterday. Dr Sharp is off on a mission and everyone is freaking out because we have a new Doc. Calm down people, we don't even have an office for him yet and I'm sure he is in the "what the hell have I gotten myself into?" mode still. I just shook hands with him and then he was whisked away by Admin. Wonder if he saw my tree...
I went over to the British compound to listen to two nurses from the Role 3 who were going to sing. They decided to set up outside instead of inside in the theater. The warm theater. It was mighty cold outside and they were giving it their all. My little sweat shirt was not quite enough, so I bailed pretty early. Gets cold here in the high desert at night. I can here the heater in my room kick on. I have set it to 22. Not sure how much that is in Fahrenheit. It's either 76, 106 or 36. Never was that good at math...

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to...hey wait, where are you?"

Today is Kaki's birthday. We can't sing to him because he went on a "medical mission" with Dr. sharp et al out to a fob to do physicals. They should be back in a couple of days. The clinic is down to a skeleton crew and it is very quiet. We have new people in training, people coming through on R and R and people who have quit and are leaving. Every morning at morning report you just never know who's going to be there. The numbers range from 25 to 5. We just keep plugging along. We had to to babysitting duty at the Role 3 for one of our patients until we got her medevaced. The "sitters" had to be females, so that reduced our crew a little, but as Zee says, "we'll just kick ass as always." There is a 6 month old baby there that everyone has fallen in love with. She is one happy baby and loves everyone. They have made a crib for her and she has about 100 adopted aunts and uncles there. Including our Medics. I walked into the Ward and there she was in the arms of the Master Chief of the Command. I think he was going to draft her, so she would never leave. It is so uncommon to see children here. Especially a cute young smiling, uninjured one. So my babysitters did some babysitting while they were babysitting. Only in Afghanistan...

"rocket attack, rocket attack...ouch...ouch...oh, never mind."

Karki and I were driving home from clinic and decided to get something to eat. So we were driving down the road we found that it was blocked by a truck so we went down another street to another difac. After dinner we took the back way back to Camp Hicks and heard  the rocket attack alarm. We rolled down the window, heard a "boom" and the alarm reset and go off again, so we bailed out of the truck and headed for a bunker. It was dark and we were in unfamiliar territory. As we ran towards the "bunker" I turned on my flashlight at the last minute. It wasn't a bunker, it was a concrete structure to hold up a big antenna and it was surrounded by barbed wire. Oops, this could of been ugly. There were some other guys standing beside it, so we joined them for awhile, then headed back to Hicks. Another boom. Another alarm. We bailed out again. We realized that we were in front of the gate, so we made a pit stop at the bunker of the hotel across the street, waited. No more booms, so we headed into Hicks to "our bunker." Just as we got there, the "all clear" sounded. We had looked like John Belushi in Animal House" making a serpentine through the CHU's. Like the rockets would be fooled. Actually it was just a couple of fools trying to get home from dinner. Only in Afghanistan...

Girlpower, the Role 3, and me

Working here is sometimes like being an airline pilot-hours of boredom interspersed with moments of terror. Yesterday a woman was brought in by friend semi-conscious. She had received some bad news and took a handful of pills. She was out of it when she came in and all of a sudden the clinic was full of patients and I was here alone. I sent a "help"text to Dr. Sharp, who had gone to church. We started an IV on her and got her ready to go to the Role 3. There is not that I can do for her. Ordering lab tests, etc, here is a waste of time. If she crumps, we are screwed. I called ahead, told them that we were coming and loaded her into the ambulance. We got there and passed on what information we could. We had found the pills and looked them up on the Internet and actually figured out what they were. Sleeping pills. I passed this onto the Doc at the Role 3 and sent someone off to search her room. I came back to the clinic to finish up and see what else was going on. A little while later I got a call stating that they needed me back at the Role 3. I drove back and told them what information I knew. They told me that she will need a 24 hour babysitter and that it would be me. When I questioned them about this they basically said that they don't have the staff to keep "eyes on" and that we would have to provide the folks to do that. I called back and we started to make arraignments to stand watch. It is a Navy hospital after all. I volunteered to go first. They gave us papers to sign explaining our duties. Rule number 1-you must be the same sex as the patient. Umm, small problem. Regroup. Go to plan B. Back to the clinic I went and gathered up most of the female staff to ask for volunteers. They all volunteered. God love 'em. So I made up a watch bill and worked out the rotations. They was some confusion about vehicles and how to get there. {insert sexist comment here} We worked it out. I told them to call me if there were ANY problems. Only got one call at 0100. Had to go to the clinic to pick someone up so they could leave it for the next person. Dr. Sharp called me back three hours later. He had just read his text. All in all, smooth sailing so far. Guess what's next? You are correct, a medevac...

"NOAH, I WANT YOU TO BUILD AN ARC..WAIT, DISREGARD."

So they were predicting rain. Lots of it. So we all went in to high gear. Sandbags, food stocked in rooms, etc, etc. I checked the forecast and wasn't that impressed, but given the fact that we had major flooding previously, not a bad idea to prepare. I put on my rain jacket to walk to work. Across and down from me someone has sandbagged their room and has a dirt berm perfectly situated so he can open his door bit still hold back the flood waters. Then the rain came. For about a minute and a half. As someone said, "just enough to screw up the cars." But we were ready, damn it.  Which is probably why it didn't rain that hard.  The Afghanistan version of Murphy's law.

House cleaning, Turkey and napping. oh my...

We closed the clinic for Thanksgiving afternoon. It was lovely. I came back and scrubbed my room. I was tired of walking in and thinking,"God this place stinks." So I swept and swabbed and dusted and washed down the walls. Loved every minute of it. Call it Fall cleaning. My room no longer stinks. There is the residual poo pond smell that wafts in, but all in all and improvement. Exhausted from my cleaning binge, I collapsed for a lovely afternoon nap. Hadn't even had turkey yet. Woke up, hit the shower, changed my clothes and then we headed for the clinic, our meeting place for heading to dinner. We decided to go to the other side of the base. Less people there. We knew that there was going to be a line waiting for us, but that's what we do, stand in line. So 18 strong, we piled into every vehicle we owned and headed out. Looks like we got us a convoy. We arrived at the "flight line" Difac and got in line. Not really a long wait, and turkey awaited. I couldn't be happier. Everything but stuffing. Instead they had orange/almond rice. We all sat together, one big happy, dysfunctional family. It was all very nice. There were tons of letters from school kids that all started, "Dear soldier." I read them out loud, they were all cute and we laughed at some of the kid's descriptions of themselves. One liked to sleep. A man after my own heart.  One had a lazy dog.  Sorry that we're not soldiers kids, but we loved your letters.
Then we went to the clinic and played poker for candy. Taught Karki how to play draw poker. We tried to play Texas Hold 'em by trying to remember how it went on TV. It was described by one of the players described as"that one on TV where you show all of your cards." Yes, we are real card sharks. Karki kicked my ass and had all of my candy. Beginner's luck my ass...

Turkey day and the chase of the wild goose

Happy Thanksgiving y'all. Well it's Thanksgiving here, not quite for you but you'll catch up...
We'll see how today goes. Big dinner planned at a couple of Difacs. My favorite meal on my favorite holiday. What could happen?
Michael had his first medevac. Went off without a hitch. Totally smooth. I hate him.
A patient came in the other night very late. Dennis saw him and realized that he had cut some tendons in his finger. He was told to come back in the morning. Which he did not. He does not work for Dyncorp. He just new where we were. That afternoon, Karki and I went looking for him. We were like private detectives looking for a missing person. We went to "South Park" the massive tent village were most people live. We found hie tent and the found the tent where the "mayor" lives. He told us that he could be anywhere. Dejected we were walking towards our car when we saw a guy wearing a shirt with the guys company on it. We asked if he knew our guy. He did not, but told us where his boss was. Jumping into the car we sped off in the direction of the company's HQ. Bingo, the boss knew this guy. I jumped into the bosses car with the boss. The boss was  a little confused and jumped into the passenger seat with me in the driver's seat. I didn't know where we were going, why am I driving? The boss was not used to Japanese cars and had gotten into the wrong seat. After a quick switch we where on our way. We finally found our guy. Turns out that this company had their own Medic and he had gone there. Cool. Let's go talk to him. So back in the Van we got and found their Medic. He knew noting about this guy. Turns out that he is a new PA there and his guy was seen by his Medic who had not told the PA. PA not happy. PA promised to take care of our patient and deal with his Medic. All good. Except I told the PA that his Medic had sewn up the guys finger and it turned out that it was Dennis. Oops.
I am waiting for an email from the company PA so I can explain the situation, and drag his medic out from under the bus.

The normal abnormalities are back to normal

 Just back from the Role 3. There is a medevac cooking. The good news is that I pawned it off on the new PA, Michael. I am calling it "training." Pretty tricky, no? Boys gotta learn...
There guy needs to get out of here for surgery. We spent all day trying to figure out what was wrong with him. All were stumped. So off to the Role 3 for CT scan. They're not sure either, but they know he needs surgery and they know that they don't want to do it. So hence, the medevac.
We had a rabid dog run around a fob attacking people. Our medic there chased the dog until Vector control could trap it. The dog attacked the Medic and then the Vector guy. the Medic was in a fight for his life and stabbed the dog, who then let go of his hand. Someone eventually shot it. Twice. First one didn't take. Luckily our Medic had rabies shots prior so he doesn't need the full series. Life can be very tough here. But he'll be ok. And OHS's reaction to all this? They wrote him up. For what? I don't know. But I think an email is in order. Never a dull moment...

Took you long enough..

Well, I'm back. Back meaning that we have had our first rocket attack. Let me rephrase that, our first real rocket attack. We had one earlier but it was some sort of unannounced test. The real one happened  at about 0400, and was over at 0430. Just time enough to get up, get dressed and pee. Then back to bed.
Apparently, while I as gone, we have become more efficient rocket attack wise.
As we all know my favorite day her is Friday, Role 3 meeting day. So off we went to the Role 3 for the Role 1/3 meeting. That's when we get together to talk about problems, share information, etc. There was one thing missing this week-someone from the Role 3. Just us Role 1 types. They changed the name of the Role 2. Not sure what's going on. We took a patient to the Role 3, who said that they would have to bill him. Not an emergency, more like an elective thing. We'll just send him home instead. He is going on R and R in a week, anyway. Some definite belt tightening down at the Role 3. It has a new name too. Not sure what it its.
We have politics happening as well. All about R and R coverage and permission and crossed wires. Same old same old. We'll work it out.
We had movie night last night. Pizza and near-beer and Tom Hanks in "Terminal." Quite a pleasant evening. Set up a projector in the clinic, turn off the lights and have 2 hours of escapism. And no rocket attack. Quite nice of the Taliban I thought..

Technology..nothing to fear

Today is my Dad's 77th birthday. E was in Stockton so she bought him dinner at the hotel that she and Laura, her cousin, where she and Laura, her cousin, are staying. Then they went up to their room to Skype me at work so I could wish him Happy Birthday. He was sitting in a chair a little baffled by the technology. How could he see his son 9,000 miles away and talk to him at the same time? He wasn't impressed for long, because he announced that he "had to go." Home. Ah, Dad, we set this up so we could talk. I got everyone in the clinic to sit on my chair and wish him happy birthday. When Karki said hello and happy birthday, my father announced that he didn't know who he was."My son doesn't talk about you," he said. Thanks Dad. We did convince him to stay. If you watch any of the 8mm movies from when I was a kid you will see the Caplin family just standing there. Doing nothing. Luckily there is no sound or you would hear my mother and father yelling at each other to "do something." My Dad used it instead of the still camera. There are pictures of us standing around, all over the world. So in true Caplin tradition, my Dad just sat there on Skype. Afraid to move. My father the statue. I kept saying,"Dad, say something." He asked how the weather was. I knew the "how's traffic, it's horrible here" conversation was just around the corner, so I redirected the conversation elsewhere. They had even plied him with wine. Didn't seem to help. Just my father, frozen in the chair baffled by technology. A lot has changed in 77 years. Except my Dad...

One week down, 13 to go

We have a poo pond "mini me" outside the back gate. You have to walk on sandbags to get to a less muddy are, then on to dry land. They continue to clean up the downstairs area from the Great Flood. I am just glad that I live upstairs. It would of sucked in a big way to come home to a flood damaged CHU. FLDDAMCHU would probably be an acronym assigned to it or something.

Dennis has shaved his handlebar mustache. He looks 10 years  younger. Although he has had it for two years and we are all in shock from it. I am still not used to it. We don't do change here very well.
He and Dr. Sharp are leaving for R and R around Christmas time so preparations are being made. I am trying to figure out which Dfac to go to for Thanksgiving. It is my favorite holiday and you have to plan for these things you know. I figure that I can cross the British Dfac off the list. "Toad in the hole for Turkey day? Again." Yes we had turkey but they boiled it...

The rain in Spain (KAF) falls mainly on the plain (Hicks)

The morning commute has become complicated. Have to dodge giant mud puddles and divert around closed gates. And it's not even the rainy season.
Back in the clinic, I announced that "Daddies back" and we had a big cleaning session. We're hip deep in mud and flu shots, so the clinic has been minimally staffed so some things have gone by the wayside. Like cleaning the clinic. I ran the morning meeting as Karki was out "flu shotting." A bunch of new people here so I am trying to figure out who everyone is. The hubs and fobs have been realigned while I was gone. This was done on purpose to add to my jet lag confusion. I just know it.
Last night there was a bunch of out going. Not sure if the were aiming at anyone or just target practice. My theory: it was meant to keep me from getting any sleep. I'm just saying...

Honey, I'm home (sort of)

After spending way too much time and money in Dubai, I am back at KAF. They had some rain while I was gone, so as we were landing I noticed that there were lakes and rivers where there wasn't any before. Wow the weather in San Francisco was better than Afghanistan. Something ain't right here.
I was pleasantly surprised to have a business class seat on the "Gryphon bird" back here. Who knew that I was a "mucky muck?" Or a "Muckily mulck" as Karki would say.
Camp Hicks flooded, luckily I live on the second floor. There is mud everywhere.
I had mailed myself some stuff, including coffee and licorice for the clinic. There was also 13 pounds of salt water taffy from one of my former Medics, who is now at Leatherneck.

We are in full flu shot mode here, so staff is spread far and wide. But I did call Karki and made him drive me to lunch. So things just can't change. We went to Cambridge Dfac where the menu was "Toad in the hole." I was ecstatic, the new Medics we brought with us, not so much.
Being the nice guy that I am, I tortured my lunch mates with tales of all of the fantastic food that I had while on R and R. I though that it was the least that I could do.
After lunch there was something about "not having enough room in the SUV and you have to walk back to the clinic..."

Bye Bye Dubai, Bye Bye. And thanks for the air show...

Ok, I snuck into the air-show. Ok, I didn' sneak, I was credentialed. Ok, I wasn't credentialed, I bought my way in. Ok, I didn't really buy my way in. I filled out the credentials, paid a fee and, son-of-a-gun, if they didn't let me in. I figured that I would be found out. They said I needed a passport and business card. I have a passport and a business card. So, what the hell, what could happen? They could ask me to leave. Or throw me in jail. Worth a try. You actually make an ID card on line, which gets printed at the event. Took a snapshot with my trusty MacBook Pro, put on a collared shirt and jumped on the shuttle bus. They let me right in. Passed a background check and everything.

A boy and his ID air-show pass

This was defiantly the playground of the rich. And the military. I can hablo aviation if I have to. Only denied access to one aircraft. Screw you Airbus and Qatar airlines. I was denied access to the new 787, but I conned my way on. Truly an amazing aircraft. Went on lots of multimillion dollar business jets. As one of the Captains who was on to me said,"this is how the other half lives." It turns out that there is a shortage of business jet pilots. Hmmm is 52 too old to start? Probably. Oh well.

It was free, damn it

Had one advantage of being a medical person. I got a free umbrella from the Dubai Dept. of Health. It's a nice one too.  What I'm going to do with it, I don't know. But it was free, I'm a Caplin and it's coming to Afghanistan.  Watched the aircraft going through their maneuvers. The UAE has a new acrobatic team. There was an Airbus version of the C-130 that did some amazing stuff.  Better than "Fat Albert," sorry Blue Angels.
I have a 0400 show time for my flight back to KAF.  Me and my new umbrella will be there...

Do I overeat now or wait for KAF?

24 hours later and I've made it to Dubai. I could of spent 4 hours in the airport, gone through customs, walked outside, got a boarding pass and  went back through security and customs, waited in the Airport for 2 hours and flown to KAF. As enticing as that sounds, I opted for a shower and a Hotel. Both of which almost didn't happen. You lose a day coming here. I left on the 10th and arrived on the 12th. OK, I technically spent the 11th in Germany. For Veteran's Day. "Spring time for Hitler, in Germany..." Hey, hey, no singing... Anyway, when I made my reservation I made it for the 12th, because, well, I arrived here on the 12th. They had no reservation for me. I made it on your website, dude so check again. "AH, Mr. Mark, your reservation is for the 12th." Ok, I know I'm tired, need a shower, and am a little confused about time zones and geographic location, but my cell phone says that it's the 12th. Turns out that, in hotel world, the day doesn't start until 0500, so it's the 11th. I could wait here until 1000 then my reservation would be valid. That's 8 hours from now. I-just-want-a -room. and a shower, not necessarily in that order. They had me. I was in the I DON'T CARE HOW MUCH IT COSTS mode. So I got a room. In the room is a note," I know that you want nothing more in the world than a shower, sorry we have no water because they are repairing the main water line, so, tough shit." Ok, I m paying twice what I should, and there's no water?! Permission to cry sir? Wait, I'm too dehydrated from being locked inside a refrigerator for 20 hours. The guy behind me in line has 5 hours to shower and nap to catch a flight to Africa somewhere at 7. He is an ugly American. He wants a wake up call. No wake up calls, use the alarm clock. And no shower. He turns full ugly now. I am not far behind him. They offer him bottles of water. To shower. Then, the phone rings. Water is back on. We are saved. I am tired.
I get to my room, shower and try to sleep. No dice. My brain says that it is 3:00 in the afternoon. No problem. I am a healthcare profession. I have drugs. I set the alarm for 7 to wake up for breakfast and start reprogramming my brain back to KAF time. No flights on Sunday to KAF so a couple of days here.
On my flight from Frankfurt my movies didn't work. For 6 hours. The idea was to watch movies and not sleep. So I ate instead. And, of course, fell asleep. The best laid plans...

Trains, planes automobiles, sailboats, Ok not so much with the sailboats...

As I have said, the most common comment about R and R is that it goes by so fast. This went by fast but it was great for every second that I was home. % hours until I get back on the plane for 20 fun filled hours of flying. They changed my flight so I had to delay my return flight to KAF. Bummer. Now I can sleep instead of flying for like a year and then crawl to another gate for the charter. Actually you have to clear Customs, go outside into the parking lot, get a boarding pass, go through customs and security again and wait two hours for your flight starting at 0400. So sorry that I'm going to miss that.
Didn't get to go sailing. The problem with October is that the weather is too good. Hell of a problem, no? It just means minimal winds. I got my Bay fix by riding the ferry to Oakland for the Framer's Market. Didn't see any "Occupiers" there. Thought they might be hiding in the strawberries or something.
I came home to dance and eat. And dance and eat I did. The Asilomar weekend was darn near perfect. Rain and all. Dinner at Gary Danko was perfect. As well as all of the other meals that I had, many with my friends, and that short chick that keeps following me around. She made me go home with her after buying me dinner. Ok, so I'm cheap and easy...

Happiness is a warm...shower

Greetings from the Camp Leatherneck spa and country club.
An uneventful flight. Direct KAF to Bastion/Leatherneck.  Bastion is the British side of things. Were the airfield is. Up at 0300 for the flight, so no breakfast. But I'm a fat contractor so I can skip a meal now and then.

Only company internet here. It's much faster but many things are blocked. Including blogs. I could tell you how I'm writing this, but I'd have to, well, you know. Took me a couple of days to figure it out.

First order of business was a new mattress. I am in Bill's room across from the clinic. He has an old mattress, which is really a box spring. They have an interesting definition of mattress here. Maybe it's to keep the Marines  mean or something. This is my third trip here and every time I come here I deal with a bed. My first night here I slept in the community tent with the a/c blasting all night long. Then into the private room for a night. Not much sleeping going on, so in the morning I went on a new mattress hunt. I found one of the new ones that I had procured from an earlier visit. So a quick switch and, presto, new, firmer mattress. Then a trip to the PX for a foam pad and the "princess and the pea" was happy again.

Bastion hospital is our Role 3. We have a CSH on Leatherneck which used to be across the street but has now moved into a real life nice building. Bill took me there and introduced me around and I have taken two patients  there already.

We were notified that someone had collapsed and had been taken to the hospital the night before lasty. No other details. I called EMS who told me that they had responded to a call, but couldn't find anyone. So, we drove to Bastion and asked at the reception desk. We were told that someone had come in at 2300. Did we have a name|? No, we didn't, we were kind of hoping that YOU had a name. So they gave me the name but told me that they had sent him home. OK, so off to his work place we went. Nope wasn't there. "He is in the hospital, sir," we were told. We just came from there, and he ain't there. The supervisor will contact me. Fine.
Back to the clinic we go. Now operations wants to know what's going on. I tell them my chasing of the wild goose story. "Did you talk to his supervisor?" they ask. "I tried," says I. A few minutes later the supervisor arrives, and tells me that his guy is in hospital. So, off we go back to Bastion. This time we talk to a lieutenant, I mean lieuftenant and he tells us that the guy has been admitted to the ward. Military intelligence, the ultimate oxymoron. We go see the guy. He is sick, will be there a couple of days. Mystery solved.

The one advantage of being at KAF is my room and the showers. I don't have to hike to them. Here it's a hike. And there is very limited water, so you have to take a "Navy" shower. It even reminds me of being on a ship. Water on, water off, soap up, water on, rinse, out of the shower. Sometimes the water is even hot.  You really do appreciate the simple things in life here. And a hot shower is one of them. I have always loved a shower. When you're hot and dirty, there's nothing better. Navy or otherwise. California has nothing to worry about from me. I'll be in and out of the shower in no time. Jerry Brown, fear not, your water supply is safe with me..

A check up from the neck up...

When I was a kid I went to a pediatric dentist so I have no problem going to the dentist as an adult. Haven't been since I've been gone, so E scheduled me an appointment while I am home. Off I went yesterday for routine maintenance.  The hygienist wouldn't stop talking during the whole procedure. Including dissing my "dirty" teeth. Hard to explain that I have not been able to go to a dentist because, like, there is no dentist where I am, when you have suction, high speed water and a scraper in your mouth.  She kept asking if I was OK. ""Fine," says I. I was having hairdresser flashbacks. Why do these people insist on telling you about their day, life, menstrual cycles, etc.? Just cut my hair. Or in this case, just clean my teeth. I know that they're dirty. That's why I'm having them CLEANED. Think of it as job security. What do you want me to say?" No, this is the best experience of my life, I have never had such clean teeth. You are truly an artist and deserve the Nobel teeth prize..."
Too grumpy?
And they found a cavity. Not my fault. Old filling. Apparently it is a magnet for dental caries. So back I'll go for a filling. Can't wait.

Food, dancing, did I mention food?

My goal for R and R is too eat nothing but great food. So far so good. There was the hiccup at Chevys. The Chevys in Emeryville has a great location, but every time I go there I wonder why they have such lousy service. For years and years, I have gone and have not been disappointed about being disappointed. The service just sucks. It is amazingly bad. Consistently. The food is OK, but Chevys ain't what it used to be. Still good chips and salsa, watered down drinks and so-so food.  But a great view of the water, which is why this place stays in business. Or maybe Pixar goes there or something.
On the other hand, Restaurant Gary Danko is the perfect restaurant. The didn't kick me out or anything. Must of been the tie. Very unassuming, perfect service. Just good food. Mix and match and substitute all you want on the menu. Have 6 desserts, they don't care. They even cooked my steak all the way through. Yes, sacrilege in the US but, hey, I have an english mother. At least they didn't boil it...
I came home to go dancing next weekend and dance I have done. I now cannot walk. I haven't used those  muscles in awhile, and I am feeling it. And more dancing tonight. After a trip to Manteca to see Mum and Dad. Went dancing after a trip to Santa Cruz. This is the problem with being on vacation in your own home. You don't have time to see everyone and do everything that you want. But I may die trying...

"Achtung, there is a dummkopf in business class, I repeat..."

I should not be allowed in business class. Too foreign to me. Too many buttons and protocols and politeness. I should be back in the cattle section eating bad food. Or wishing that I had some bad food. My flight left at 0200. I was exhausted. On purpose. I wanted to sleep. At the end of my sleep, I was awoken to a woman speaking german. I of course thought that A) I was still asleep or B) I had died and was now in german hell for all of the bad german accents that I have done in the past. I learned German from watching "Hogan's Heros," didn't you? Turns out that it was a Lufthansa flight attendant offering me breakfast. The same one who told me to put my bag in the coat closet. In german. Listen, Frau Blucher {horse whinny}, I have enough trouble with english...
So I woke up, had a lovely breakfast; during which I started to watch "The Green Lantern." In the movie there is an aerial combat scene. Just at that moment we hit turbulence.  So as the hero was fighting for control of his airplane, we were getting bounced around in the sky. The ultimate 3-D experience. Wow, these Germans think of everything...

Let the adventure begin, oh wait it already has...

If you remember the  last time that I went on R and R my plane was full of people that I  had sent home on R and R. And off course, this time too. The airline has changed the check in time to ridiculously early. The idea was that the temperature is cooler and therefore lower density altitude. This change took 5 months to accomplish. Just in time for the cold season. We are wearing sweaters here while they are wearing shorts in San Francisco. Something just ain't right. So I got up ridiculously early to start the ridiculous check out and check in process. As I rounded the corner I noticed our ambulance parked in front of the check in space at Camp Hicks. I immediately said to myself "I'm on R and R, I'm on R and R." And then went to find the crew. I found them with a patient that had come from a FOB with kidney stones. There had been a debate about sending him out for treatment but I had to remind the debate team that A) This is Afghanistan and B) Shit happens. The crew took him to the clinic and I gave them orders about what to do when he got there. Then Karki and I drove to the clinic. Well, almost. We got half way there and were pulled over by the MP's for speeding. Karki tried to get out to explain what was going on. He was met with a "stay in the car" over the PA system. Didn't he watch Rodney King? Maybe they don't beat you up on the freeway in Nepal. "Medical emergency," says I to the MP "OK but slow down," he said. "Thank you, Sergeant," I said, and we were on our way. The Master negotiator strikes again.
We got to the clinic, I checked on him and then went to finish the rest of my check out. Then I went back to the travel department to tell them what happened and to get his luggage and paperwork. After the appropriate amount of medicine he felt better and returned to check in. By ten a large line had formed but I got him head of the line privileges. And, as his PA, felt that I should be with him. Just in case. I shook hands with the Gryphon Airlines manager and explained who I was. As I walked away I looked at my boarding pass. Business class. Score! Gonna be a good day already...

One day and a wake up...

It's good to be home before going home. No more  "secret squirrel" internet access. Just plug in, log on and go.
I had two birthday dinners, both at Italian restaurants and then more to come when I fly back. Tomorrow I have to attend the flight briefing and do the cumbersome check out process. Much like getting out of jail, except they give you money when you come back.
Many personnel changes while I was gone, but Karki and Z are here, so all is right with the world. There is a new PA here so I will try and get him spun up, as we say, and do some teaching of the 5 new Medics who are here. I get to teach the boring but necessary information about the rules that we have to follow, medically speaking. We serve many masters here, one being OSHA. The other being a thing called "MOD 10." MOD 10 sets the medical standards for being here. We live and die by MOD 10. Everyone lives in fear of the dreaded "DQ."  Why people are afraid of Dairy Queen I'll never know.
I had a patient while I was at Leatherneck. He had, in short, an infected thumb. He cut it while trimming his nails then poked at it for about 10 days with a toothpick. He went to the Medics with thumb pain and they started him on Ibuprofen but then his thumb started to swell up so they brought him to me.  I thought he had what is called a "Felon" so I numbed it up and poked a hole in it. Nothing came out, so I figured that we could just treat him with antibiotics. Silly me, I must have forgotten that Leatherneck was still in Afghanistan. Three days later he came back, no better. I went down to Bastion, the British hospital, to talk to an orthopedic surgeon. I figured I would just follow the same procedure that we do at KAF. I found a full British Colonel who told me to bring him down there. "Either the ER or primary care, I'm not sure where you would start," says he. I went to fetch the patient and went to primary care. Where we waited and waited. Finally a sergeant came out and told us that we had to go to the "contractors office" where they would give him his eligibility papers.  They asked if I knew where the office was. "Negative" I replied. "It's by the NAAFI" said the blond female receptionist. I actually knew where that was, so off we went. The patient, interpreter that I had brought with me, and me. We wandered around, then wandered around some more, and even asked directions. Nobody knew what we were talking about. I finally went into the medical supply building and asked. A very nice chap said he did not know where it was but would ask around. Nope, nobody new. So back to reception we went. Our band of three was now a band of four. Robin hood and his merry (lost) men. The blonde receptionist had been replaced. We went next door to find the sergent. No sergeant there. Just doctors who told me that "this is the hospital." "No shit," I thought, but I didn't say that. "I am looking for a sergeant" I said. A voice said,"you are actually looking for a staff-seargent." "Sorry," said I. My new friend, who is a private,  asked where the TCMC was and was told by the staff sergeant that he had actually never been there but thought it was behind  something. "No worries," my new private friend send. So we walked back out and he pointed me in the right direction. We eventually found the place. It is no where near the NAAFI. I explained the situation to the nice British ladies who worked in that office. They were quite sympathetic but said that they couldn't help me because my patient worked for an American company and this is a British hospital. "Can't have the hospital full, you know," the nice lady said. Every ounce of me was screaming,"but I have a colonel who accepted him, he has a badly infected thumb, and I have been wandering around for a freaking hour looking for your stupid office/tent. He deserves treatment too, you git!" But instead I said, "Thank you very much," and left. "I'm sending you to KAF," I mumbled to my patient, via the interpreter. "Thank you sir," my polite patient responded.
He went off to KAF, and arrived at the clinic. Dr. Merz, who is here covering, made an incision in the infected thumb and got 15 cc's of infected goop out and then took him to our Role 3. The doctor there, who is British said, "Why didn't they just take him to Bastion? It's right around the corner."
One more day, one more day......

Seven days and a wake up...

Down to single digits then home on R and R. I have had to go to extraordianry lengths to write this little ole blog because they take bandwidth seriously here. How to describe this base in one wrod? Boring. But a good kind of boring. No rocket attacks. Good food at the Dfacs. It is nice being 15 seconds from the clinic so I can take a quick nap at lunch. I do miss the hussle and bustle at KAF but I did need a break.
My computer has decided to quit playing DVDs. Well either that or it has become a movie critic and is only playing some DVDs. I have the "Rotten Tomatoes" of PCs. I am dieing to know what happens in episode 6 of "True Blood" Don't tell me, I can wait a week to find out.
Anyway, the bandwidth police are watching so I will sign off, gather my stuff and make the morning schlepp to the shower. Look out Navy shower, here I come...

Coffee, tea, or rain gear?

Everything in this country is trying to kill me, as you know, except lightening, apparently. The thing that is supposed to try and kill me just passed overhead. After numerous attempts I was able to get one picture. Then I ran like hell.
It rained for two days. I did not bring any rain gear. We are in the desert and it's October. We are in the Northern hemisphere, so it is technically Fall, not Winter. Not the rainy season. I just pretended it was Hawaii and it would soon get warm and I would dry out.Turned on my slack key guitar music on the iPod and even had pineapple in the Difac. Didn't work. No hula girls, no beach, just sand. And I still looked like a drowned rat. I walked to the PX to get some rain gear. They didn't have any. Of course not, if you come here you would be issued rain gear. Which everybody but me was wearing. So I was a double drowned rat and walked back. A dumb ass double drowned rat. Listening to Bother Iz on his iPod. In the rain, pretending to be in Hawaii. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, he has lost his mind. Plus it's soggy, my brain that is.

One of the big advantages here, besides the fact that the food is way better, is that my chu is across from the clinic. And it's twice the size of my room at KAF. There is a tea pot there and tea bags. I have added Earl Grey and life is good. Except this morning when I forgot to take the key with me. I am now waiting for one of the Medics to wake up and have a need for coffee. I will nonchalantly walk in, say,"Good morning" and put on the kettle. Hard to wait. No one's up yet. Think they would mind if I casually yelled, "Rocket attack!" in their tent? "Oops, my bad. Never mind. Coffee anyone?"

You say " , and I say @

I am not a big fan of typing on laptops so I went to the Italian electronics store on Bastion and bought a keyboard. The last time I did this I bought one with the wrong plug. It was round and I needed a USB. I bought it from the French PX and they have a no refund policy. Vous Indélicates Bastards. So I was very careful this time. Even had the guy double check the plug. All is good. Brought it back to my office, plugged it in and, voila it worked. Until I tried to type. Using my practice of touch typing I was typing along and looked down only to find that the "quote" (") key and "at" (@)  key had been switched. (Man that was hard..)

I have been down to Bastion Role 3 twice already. All very British and polite. Some American nurses.  Very nice place. The British PX is behind it. All very civilized.

We had a big thunder and lightening storm last night. Being from KAF I figured it was rockets and was pissed. Until I peeked outside and saw the lightening. Stood outside and watched for awhile until I figured how dumb that was. Then I went to sleep in my metal building. I got up in the morning and plodded to the shower during the lightening. And rain. Hmmm are Crocks lightening proof?
"Mrs. Caplin your son was killed in Afghanistan."
"Was it a rocket attack?"
"No, ma'am"
"Insurgents?""Ground attack?"
"Um, no"
"He was on his way to the bathroom  and was struck by lightening"
"My son is a dumb ass"
"Yes but he was doing what he loved"
"Sailing? Scottish Country dancing? Saving lives?"
"No ma'am, showering...."

So much that I can't talk about...

20 days and a wake up, but who's counting. Well, you know who.

So man big booms lately. Was having lunch and a really big boom went off. I was just about to enjoy my strawberry mouse when ceiling tiles fell into it. I was on the floor before you knew it. Along with 200 of my closest friends.  And Larry Sharp, DO. Never saw a doctor move so fast. The boy was raised right. We were ordered to evacuate, NOW! And he grabbed his tray and was headed to dump  out  the contents. "Larry," says I." Fuck the tray! Let's go."  Out we went to look at a big mushroom like cloud very close to us. No one hurt, luckily. We stood around for an hour in the sun, until I wandered around and found two nice chairs on a porch in the shade in the British compound. We sat there for awhile when a british soldier wandered by. We thought that he was going to yell at us. I asked if he would bring us a gin and tonic. "Oh, that would be lovely," the sergeant  said. Gotta love the Brits..

Had a guy walk into the clinic and collapse. One of the Medics casually mentioned it to me in my office. After awhile I wandered out to see a guy having a huge heart attack. We quickly assessed him, got IVs in him, loaded him into our ambulance and got him to the Role 3. The lights stopped working int he back of the ambulance, so I had a flashlight in my teeth. He kept passing out, because his B/P was so low and he was so sweaty that the electrodes from the EKG kept slipping off. I was convinced that he had arrested, or "coded" as we say. I kept yelling at him to wake up.Which he did. For awhile.  I almost swallowed my flashlight. Twice. Made it their alive.
'Was Mark killed in a rocket attack?'
"Nope, choked on a flashlight." The dumb-ass way to die.

Heart attacks and rocket attacks always get me down...

I am off to cover for R and R at Leatherneck for awhile and then back to KAF then SFO. A little R and R before the Rand R.

Stay tuned from reports from "the neck."

My name is Bond, James Bond.......Would you like a donut James? Shaken not stirred...

Grouch Marx said that "I'd never join a club that would have me as a member." My take would be that I'd never be on a committee that would have me as a member, except that it did and I am. To explain: I was asked to come by and meet the new manager of ambulance operations on KAF. Simple enough, we have an ambulance and he wanted to meet "the owner." We talked about responses on the base especially during a rocket attack. In the past we have been left out if there was a need for more ambulances than the EMS system had and he wanted to fix that. He had been here in 2006 and the system was still screwed up. We had tried to fix it earlier this year, but the person who was in charge of revamping the system got sick and had to go home and no one took his place so things are still, as we say "fubar."  {prepare to GOOGLE; JFGI} Anyway, he asked me if I knew about the committee that was being formed. I informed him that I did not, but left out the part about how much I hate meetings. We had just met and I didn't want to be rude by going on my usual "I hate meetings and would rather be poked in the eye by a saw toothe viper" meeting rant. "I'll send you an email," said my new friend, Chris. "Great," I said. "Oh great," I thought, "more meetings." Now don't get me wrong, I still love the Role 3 meetings. They are fast, efficient, and relevant. Kind of the anti-meeting of back in the US. I read my email, was intrigued and thought I would stop by. Besides it was in a secret location. How cool. Meeting day showed up and I went through all the security and was admitted to the inner sanctum. I sat on the sidelines, kept my mouth shut and was very low key. Very non-me. The meeting ended, I went outside and fetched my cell phone. We had to stash them before going into the conference room. My new friend Chris, introduced me to the Canadian Major who was running the meeting. She asked for a card. I produced said card, was polite 'cause she's Canadian and it's like a rule with them or something and then  I was on my way. No harm, no foul, no commitment. Lots of high ranking folks in the room. Sat across from a full bird Marine Colonel. Yeah, they don't did the likes of me there. The meeting was at the order of the base  CO. An Air Force two star General. COMKAF. Not the cable company. Anyway, I went on my merry way, wishing these folks luck. I was told it was all "secret squirrel." I could tell you but I'd have to...well you know. In my email came the agenda for the next meeting. Including a list of people that "Had" to be there. And who was #3 on the list? You guessed it, moi. By order of COMKAF. Ordered to attend a meeting, seriously? I told the nice Canadian major that I can't be on the committee because I can't access the documents that I need because of security issues. "No worries, " she said, "I'll get you copies." This is taking politeness to new heights.  "Besides," she said, "we are trying to turn these into non-confidential, public documents" So, I guess I am the token public. Plus she was so damn nice about it. And she promised to buy me donuts. And told me to call he Lisa.  What's wrong with these people? Needless to say, I am now two meetings into the process. I am one of four civilians on the committee. Lots of "ma'am and sirs" during the meeting. Me. I'm just Mark.
Caplin, Mark Caplin...

"I'm a little teapot, short and stout, here is my...rocket attack...rocket attack"

My beloved little travel tea pot has given up the ghost. Well it still makes the water hot but it has developed two problems: 1. It leaks and flooded my computer mouse. Drowned the little bastard. Not pretty. It was on its back kicking its little buttons.. Had to disassemble and dry it out. Which is not hard when it's 100 degrees. 2. Does not automatically shut off. You have to unplug it, which, because we all know that I am a dumb ass, I forget to do sometimes. I come home and hear a "sizzling" noise that I immediately recognise. Thank goodness for my new smoke alarm. The one next door beeps but mine goes "dumb-ass, dumb-ass." Funny how not all of them do that, only mine. But I have a new DesignGO Model 991. Shuts off automatically and gets the water way hot. Which is important for us tea drinkers. It is compact and travel size including two wee cups. Works on 220 and 100. It knows what it is plugged in to. My tea pot is smarter than me. Which ain't saying much. I highly recommend it. You coffee drinkers are on your own. You know who you are. There is always a machine for you in your room, which they expect us to make coffee flavored tea from. The nerve...

The rocket attacks are increasing and it is wearing on my nerves. I am tired. Both physically, mentally, and emotionally. 28 days to go until R and R. I can't wait. I had to have an intervention at the clinic. On myself. Gathered everyone together so we could talk. I feel that my job is to take care of my staff and myself. Now I feel better and I hope that they do to.

Ok, more to follow. Off to the clinic for the crisis of the day..

Why is everything in this country trying to kill me?

Even the cats. This is why I am a dog man. Oh, wait. Those will kill you too. A soldier here died of Rabies. I read on line that he was from Livermore. Apparently he broke up a dog fight. Rule #1 1- Never break up a dog fight, especially in Afghanistan. He even had the treatment started but the dog tested negative for rabies so they stopped the treatment, which was appropriate. But he still died. There have only been three people in history to survive rabies. In medical terms it is what we call "serious shit." I remember when I was a kid and heard stories of the painful shots in the abdomen that you would get if you get rabies. Plus you were afraid of water. No thank you, no rabies for me. Now we have a 5 shot series in the arm, plus one initial shot called IgG that you get at the bite site. I have beefed up our rabies awareness. A guy got scratched by a wild cat that had been trapped and was in a cage. He reached past the cage and got scratched. You don't have to be bitten, just come in contact with saliva. And cats have a tendency to lick their paws. So he flew to KAF to start his treatment. You cannot be too careful. Even though the rabies virus dies easily when it dries out. I don't want another family to have to go through what that poor Livermore mom did.
I have seen a herd of camels. Is a bunch of camels a herd? Nope, {JFGI}it's a flock. A flock of camels. Flying camels? Sopwith camels maybe? Anyway, there was a bunch of camels outside the wire at the end of the runway. Ya don't see that everyday. We were hoping that they weren't Taliban camels. That would suck. How do I explain to my Mum that I was killed by a camel bomb? "I knew camels weren't supposed to have three humps." "No one ever listens to me..." Yes, I would complain even in death. That would be my legacy. "He died doing what he loves, kvetching." Stupid camel. I new I should of never tried to pet it. One pat and BOOM! Hump parts everywhere. Very messy. Never trust a ticking camel. Ya gotta soak 'em in water first. But this is a desert and all we have is the poo pond. Ever try and get a camel into a poo pond? Well, let me tell you, it's no easy task. Try it sometime. They're spitting and kicking and, well, it's ugly. Trust me. First you need a camel, then your own poo pond. People don't like having poo ponds in their neighborhoods because it brings down property values, and the camels are noisy and smelly but not as smelly as the poo pond, then your neighbors complain and call the cops and then you have to try and explain the camel and the poo. Then  you end up yelling "rocket attack" and then you and the camel are on the ground waiting for the English lady to say "all clear" and everyone thinks that you're nuts except for the camel who just wants a drink and then ...you wake up and you're still in Afghanistan waiting 30 days for R and R.
What? Like this never happens to you......

Beeps, bombs and....malaria(?)

I am being tortured and it's not by the Taliban. It's by a smoke detector. In a room next to mine, somwhere. Every thirty seconds I hear "beep." They installed smoke detectors in all of our rooms. OK, I figure that in a 10 by 10 room I will smell smoke. Plus the room's made of metal, so not much to burn. But safety first. Plus I don't smoke in bed. I don't smoke at all. "Do you smoke after sex? I don't know, I've never looked" Old joke, sorry. The beeping bastard is not in the room to my left or right. I thought it was behind me but I complained and they looked and it's not. So someone has this thing in their room and is just ignoring it??!!  Seriously? Wow, no wonder I never see you in the bunker, you must sleep through the rocket attack alarms. They are getting more frequent and they are using bigger boom makers. All part of the charm of KAF.
I had a patient in the clinic last night just at closing time, of course. He had a fever and didn't feel well. We test everyone with a fever for malaria. I wonder how that's going to fly in Berkeley? Knowing the Berkeleyites, they'll thank me. I'll tell them that you can get it from vaccinations. They always believe that. Anyway it came up positive. And for p. falciparum, which is the nasty bug. I called the CDC and they eventually called me back. I had given him some medication and that turned out to be worthless for the kind of malaria that he had. Drat. Bummer. Hmmmmm, off to the Role 3 for a drug deal. I traded the right meds for me not bringing them to the Trauma Bay. Easiest negotiation ever. An honest to God drug deal. A couple of liters of IV fluid and he was good to go, so I drove him to his tent and told him to come to the clinic in the morning. I can see it now at home,"Why does my PA keep driving me home?" "And he keeps testing me for malaria and yelling  'rocket attack' and laying on the floor yelling 'get down, get down" every time a car alarm goes off. But he does make sure I drink a lot of water..."

Medevacs do vex me...

Illegal photo from the flightline. Plane is in the background

What's more annoying? Dailey rocket attacks, medevacs or the fact hat we have new smoke alarms in our rooms that flash a red light and beep every minute. I am the king of the medevac. Medevac Mark, that's me. It took me over twenty four hours to get a guy out of here that had a big heart attack. Basically only 20% of his heart is working. The Role 3 is a trauma center not a cardiac center. They did an amazing job because they have a new Cardiologist there who kicked ass. All I could think was, " this man needs E, worlds greatest CCU nurse. The queen of cardiology." But instead, he got Medevac Mark. He is a subcontractor. My nemesis on the medevac front. No one wants to pay for these guys. Because only the ex-pats get insurance here. And he is Indian. If you work for DYN directly, we've got you covered. But the subs, not so much. But after many emails, his employer stepped up to the plate and paid the bill. Only took me 24 hours of begging and pleading. And they sent a real air ambulance. We took him in our ambulance to the flight line. I was looking for a particular tail number. I spotted a falcon jet on  a taxiway, "Can you see the tail number?" I asked the corpsman who was driving our ambulance. "No sir," she said," but it says 'air ambulance' on the side." Ok, I'm only a dumb PA, but I'm guessing that's our plane. And it was. Of he went to New Delhi. Cool.
Now there is a beeping smoke alarm in the room next to me. Hmmm, we have had a rocket attack a day. Maybe I can aim it at this beeping torture device? Overkill? Sorry, disregard...

36 days and a wake up, but who"s counting? Besides me and E and ...

Every morning I tell a joke at the morning meeting. Here is one of my favorites:
A young couple has just started dating. The young woman asks her new boyfriend to come to dinner at her parent's house. He isn't crazy about the idea but he says that, if he agrees, she would have sex with him.  He, of course agrees, and heads to his local pharmacy to buy condoms. The Pharmacist asks him if he can help and the young man explains the situation and he and the Pharmacist have a long talk about the relative merits of each brand and type of condom before he makes a decision. Pleased with himself, he goes home and the next day goes to his girlfriend's parent's house for dinner. The father asks the young man if he would like to say grace, the young man agrees and prays and prays and prays for about 20 minutes. After he finishes, his girlfriend leans over and says, I didn't realize that you were so religious." "Well", the young man answers. "I didn't realize that your father was a pharmacist."

I was all packed to go out to Leatherneck tonight. Because of some lame brain scheme, we were going to move a bunch of people and then move them back. It was going to disrupt our training schedule and mess up two peoples' R and R. All because of a knee jerk management reaction. It was sprung on me this morning. You can imagine my reaction but it involved the words "---kidding me."  Everyone else thought that  the idea was crazy. This would involve military flights and movement requests and ... just a nightmare. But cooler heads prevailed ( I guess) and I was told to stand down. So I came back and unpacked. I'm alright with dealing with crisis and disasters and emergencies, but not when we make them ourselves. Especially when the crisis is based on a hypothetical solution to a real problem. And when it effects me. 'Cause, as we know, it IS all about me.
Is it time to come home for R and R yet? I'm tired and need a break. I hope that I last that long.
We have new Medics who arrived today and I have to push out the ones that are just finishing up training. The process starts all over again. I think that Karki is tired too. He has two weeks before he leaves on R and R. And he is ready.
We are having a rocket attack a day. Had one today as I was teaching the Medics how to suture by practicing on pieces of chicken. First day, first rocket attack for the new guys. Got it out of the way early. We usually practice on pig's feet but hard to come by in a Muslim country.  "Why did the chicken cross the road?""To get to the bunker..."

Medevacs do curse me..

I know it's all about money here. If we get woking up in the middle of the night by a rocket attack we go back on the clock. "Rocket attack, Rocket attack cha-ching." But attention Taliban-I appreciate the OT you are providing but you can keep the money, really. I'll trade it for sleep. The bunkers have lost their charm, especially the ones that people have pee'd in. We were awoken at one in the morning. I got up looked outside, heard no explosions and looked around, no one else was headed for the bunker, and I hate to be early for a party so, I went back to bed. Through the fog of sleep, I heard the all clear. Cheated death again.
Flash forward to the next night. I am asleep. phone rings, it's the clinic. Steve says, "there's a guy here that needs a medevac, can you come down?" Of course I can, it's what I do. So I get dressed and drive down to the clinic. I meet a man who has an employee in the Role 3. He was admitted 12 hours ago. And now at 11 o'clock at night he wants me to supply him with a Medic to put in his Russian aircraft and fly this person to Uzbekistan. Here'a the thing, none of this surprised me. I drove down to the Role 3 and made rounds on the patient. Then we drove around KAF trying to find a medical crew. Found one at 0100. Job done, back to bed. Just another day (night) at KAF.

I bought Z a birthday earring and necklace set for her birthday at the Bizzare. She lost an earring hitting the dirt during a rocket attack on September 11th standing inline at the Difac waiting for an Outback steak house steak. You know, like this hasn't happened to you.

OK, so you can make this stuff up

We have received DVDs for the show "Combat Hospital." As in most things, I am not going to ask how. I have watched the first 5 episodes. I fear that I will cause the world to implode as I am in Kandahar Afghanistan, watching a show about the Role 3 hospital in Kandahar Afghanistan. And it's not bad, it's no "TRAUMA" (inside joke)  but the re-creation of the Boardwalk is uncanny. They have all of the FOB names correct and the essentials down pretty well. But they are Canadian, after all. The medicine, well...but it's TV and we know how that goes. It takes place a couple of years ago and they are in the old Role 3 when it was still in a tent. I get to go to the new hard building, but we are giving it to people that have seen the old Role 3 so we are getting an accuracy check.
Being Afghanistan, the discs have scratches in them so I have no idea how the episodes end, or I have seen the end but not sure what the hell they're talking about. Oh well. Entertainment is entertainment.
I wonder if they are going to need a new technical advisor around say........February 2012.

Thoughts. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

39 days and a wake up. Then home on R and R. I am not counting the days, I am counting the seconds. I am tired and need a break. I am flying Lufthansa. Getting United frequent flyer miles to fly on their new Airbus A380. Dubai->Frankfurt->SFO. Yee hah.

I am back to huntin' and peckin'. But modified. Accuracy counts around here, but I will master this keyboard.

My friend Michelle is here as a new PA. Combined with my friend Dave, a new Medic I get $500 as a recruitment bonus, which is good as California is one of two states that makes you pay taxes, even if you're not living there, not working for a California company, or even if you are in the State for less than 90 days. Their website even defines residency as going to church there like once. So don't eat any California raisons or Jerry Brown will be knocking on your door.

We have new signs in front of the clinic. They are beautiful. Once again they are taped instead of painted, but whatcha gonna do?

In the morning it is about 92 degress. People have sweaters on. I kid you not. I walk outside in the morning and think, "man it's chilly out here." What am I going to do in SF when it's 70? Long underwear is in my future.

Screw United airlines. Lufthansa will let me in their lounge. You can only use United's if your are a domestic traveler. Bastards...

I didn't realize that I had to pay taxes until this paycheck. So I  owe them 6 months. Don't tell anyone.

We are working on an approved medical abbreviation list. It is amazing what some people come up with.

Michelle is raising the bar as far as documentation goes for the Medics. You go girl.

Go Stanford....

fffff jjjjjggg hhh ff jj gg hh

I am teaching myself to type. I am a "hunt and pecker" ( not to be confused with a "pecker checker") from way back. I am starting on the on the "base row" of a qwerty typewriter, sorry, keyboard. Din't lean to type in higschool.The clSSS WAS FULL, SO THEY PUT ME IN BUSSINESS ENGLISH. WHER MISTAKES COUNTED TOWard you grade, ah cap, I hit the caps lock by accident. I went from an A to a B. Plus ther eare all kinds of redlines under words. I am an old an who looks around at the "kids" in my offie typing away at lightenig speed. None of them seem to know how to spell or pays attention to the spell check fearutre. Ok down to a c with typos. But haven't gotten to he part about the row above and below yet, so not soure waht finger to use to type t and y; and b and n yet. I'm msking ot up as i go allng here. Bet you couldn'
even tell. oops that was the enter ey. key, shit.
ok back to hhhfff jjj fff ddd sss aaa kkk ll ;; '''

OHS preschool

The ariel view is of a picnic table that, Larry our Chief Radiology Tech, built and Jamie, the other tech painted white and then got colored paint which we dipped our hands (with gloves on) and then put our hand prints on the table.  Of course it was over a 100, so the paint dried pretty quickly.
The view is from our roof. Karki is on my left.I'm next to him. I look like a Klingon with a flashlight on aimed at my head. That's Gizmo in the front next to Jamie. There are more pics on Facebook. Of course I had to email this to E,  as she doesn't do Facebook. But, due to the magic of Skype, I can share my pics with her. Ain't technology great?
I'm not sure how she got colored paint here. Probably better not to ask. Don't ask, don't tell. That's our attitude.
We are very dependent on the folks back in CONUS (Continental US) not to be confused with POTUS (President of the United States) VPOTUS( Vice President) and my favorite, FLOTUS (First Lady of the United Staes). My call sign? FLATUS.
Anyway, they have to send us stuff. Supplies that are not available from the Army supply system. The problem is they sometimes don't understand how things work here. So we get really frustrated. Things get lost in shipping. You can't mark a box "$20,000 lab equipment" because,  like my new MAC, it will be diverted to the Sopranos. Tony Soprano is now running Lipids and CBCs. Plus watching DVDs on a new MacBook Pro. Who'd a thunk it? "The more I try to leave, the more they pull me back in.."

Rocket attack, smocket attack

September 11 came and went. There were various small ceremonies around the base. I stayed back and took care of the clinic while the staff went to the "flag pole" for a ceremony at 0517 Eastern time. Apparently there were three speakers who talked about what the attacks meant to them. They talked about Jesus and God and played "I'm proud to be an American." Sounds perfectly harmless and patriotic, but the crowd was made up of Hindus, Muslims, and a large portion of non-Americans. Yes we got attacked, but other countries get terrorist attacks all the time. Say, oh I don't know, Afghanistan, for example. Sometimes we Americans just don't get it. There is more to the world than the good ole USA. Don't get me wrong, I AM proud to be an American.  But we have our faults, and one of them is our ability to be culturally insensitive. We don't mean to be. We all know some dumb ass who starts statements with, "I ain't prejudice, but..." And then tells a really bad, really unfunny racist joke. But his also the same guy that   would run into a burning black church in the South to save someone of color, or gives money to feed starving children in a third world country. Or comes to Afghanistan to build a clean water plant. We are a quirky little country, ain't we?
On the 10th we had a band called Goldilocks come and perform. The world is cursed with bad sound men. No different here. All we could hear was the base player. Then we barley heard the singer who was singing her heart out. The show was sponsored by Outback steak house who has gone around and taken over Difacs and cooked big juicy American steaks. Plus chicken and pasta for non-steak eaters. There was also a comedian, but I was tired and went home before his set. Of course there was a rocket attack right in the middle of his set. Apparently nobody "hit the deck" until the Commanding General did. That's leadership for you. On the day, last night, it was our turn for steak. We all loaded into two vehicles, one being our ambulance, and headed off for steak night. There was a huge line, of course, but that's what we do, stand in line for stuff. And guess what happened.  Go ahead, guess, you'll never guess. Wow, good guess, a rocket attack. We hit the deck. We waited, and we got up and were supposed to go to the bunkers. Nobody moved. This was an opportunity to get a better position in line. Two or three people did the right thing. Me, not so much. I am a Caplin, and this is free steak. Good steak. Amazingly good steak. I ain't going nowhere. No siree. Plus there wasn't room for all of us. I will take one for the team. The amazing thing was that they just kept on serving. We had our dinner and half way through they sounded the "all clear."  The crowd erupted in applause. Cheated death again. Man, I am proud to be an American..

An episode of Mad Men-Afghanistan office.

This whole country, it seems, is set up for smokers. It's like being transported back to the 1960's. Ashcans are everywhere. There are  "smoking area" signs everywhere. There isn't one Non-smoking sign anywhere. Except in my vehicle. Turning on my a/c and having used cigar smoke emanate from the vents was most unpleasant. Being a San Franciscan this has taken some getting used to. Most of the folks I work with, at least, try and go down wind, but everyone I talk to lights up a butt. No "mind if I smoke" question. Michele, the new PA here, is a fellow Californian and is shocked by the whole thing. She, too, is violently anti-smoking. Adjust and {cough,cough} overcome. I was enjoying a morning cup of tea, watching the sunrise, a rare treat here, and noticed a water bottle taped to the rail. An ashtray. "This war brought to you by the good folks of Philip Morris." I usually tell all of my patients to quit smoking. I have given up. How do you quit in a stressful war zone, surrounded by smokers? Unless they are going to die if they don't quit, then we have "the talk."
Had another medevac yesterday. Went off without a hitch. My secret? I said all day long, out loud, "this is horrible, nothing is going right. This is so screwed up, I can't believe it, wtf?" A little reverse psychology. Take that Medevac Gods.....

Chief cook and ...litter carrier.

Medevacs are a pain in the butt. They're complicated in the US, let alone from a war zone on a military airfield. Our favorite saying, "It is what it is." Last night I started working on a medevac. With out the benefit of Influenza A this time. I started the ball rolling and went to bed, my cell phone right next to my ear. No calls. Checked my email and everyone was notified that had to be and the process was moving along smoothly. Hmm, I thought, this can't be good. I then received the air ambulance itinerary which stated "the patient will be move tomorrow at 1550" Um, your tomorrow or my tomorrow? These things are coordinated in Virginia. Quick call to VA.They meant my today. Cool beans. Armed with my information I headed off to make morning rounds. I arrived early and briefed the Admin. folks (we usually call them "weenies" but I won't here) and waited in the ward for the docs. They arrived and the presenting Navy Captain said that I was working hard to get him a flight. I interjected "1550 today, sir." He responded, "OK, he worked really hard to get a flight." Score another point for yours truly. Back to the clinic I went, waiting for disaster. Had to be, this is KAF after all. Kept getting updates with the same ETA. Got a call from their dispatch center confirming the flight was coming. I told them that they had to go to a certain ramp and not that "other one." Then I got a call from the coordinating nurse with the aircraft tail number, type of aircraft and the Captain's cell phone number. Listen people, I don't deal with success well, please, I'm begging you, I need some bad news. None forthcoming. Then I got a call from the R-3 asking me to come with the patient to the aircraft. OK, cool. It is a 15 million dollar jet:
http://www.globalair.com/aircraft_for_sale/Business_Jet_Aircraft/Bombardier_Aerospace/Challenger__604_for_sale_59504.html
Me likey. I headed Down to the Role-3 and helped get the patient ready. He had been told that he was going to Germany. That's where all military casualties go. He is going to Dubai, to a civilian hospital, I told him. He had already told his family Germany. I promised that I would call them and straighten them out. I asked him if he had his passport. He told me that yes, he had it and it was in his black bag. The patient was loaded onto a world war two style litter that goes on wheels and taken out to the Navy ambulance, which was ancient. He was loaded onto the litter holder in the back. With me at the head carrying him into the ambulance. I'm a hands on coordinator. We then headed out to the airfield to wait. The aircraft arrived about 10 minutes late but as I looked out the window I saw this huge, beautiful airplane. As it taxied to a stop, the door opened and the ladder came down. "How are we going to get this guy in there?" I thought. Some other people had arrived to help us and everyone disappeared into the airplane to check it out. I was left with the patient in the back of the ambulance. I eventually got out and took his belongings to the aircraft. I had to climb 6 stairs to get inside and take a left at the minibar. The interior is amazing. Gorgeous. Luxurious. But not an air ambulance. There was no stretcher, no medical equipment, nothin'. There were two people in blue jeans who identified themselves as the Doctor and the nurse. Neither were interested in talking to me about the patient. The crowd cleared out I surveyed the situation. A settee had been converted to a bed with a couple of blankets on it. This was their idea of a stretcher. Which is fine if you can walk onto the airplane and kick back with a cocktail provided by the gorgeous flight attendant, but this guy was bed ridden and sick. And I needed an air ambulance. Not a flying palace. Adapt and overcome, that's what I do. I asked the Navy guys if I could keep their stretcher. No problem. I promised I would get it back. So 6 of us carried him up the stairs. The Captain informed us that all we have to do is angle his head into the cockpit. Sure, right. That didn't work. He told us that the handles on the litter retract. Sure enough, they did. I love this guy. He was English. Of course. Stay calm and carry on. It turned out that he and I ended carrying the guy onto the plane. I had to lift the litter up over the seats. I just kept thinking,"don't hurt the $15 million airplane." We got him squared away and I asked him again if he had his passport. He answered in the affirmative again (see where this is going?). I got a ride back to my vehicle and got a water,  I was nackered. I am not used to doing physical labor, after all. So, I headed back to the clinic, slightly pissed.
Just to let you know, I had to stop writing this half way through because my phone rang. The guy had forgotten his passport. It was in our HR department. In his other black bag. The UAE government wants to end him back to KAF. Much negotiations later, they let him in. His passport will be on a plane this morning. He is in the hospital.
I knew things were going too well. Oh, and during all these phone calls, there were two late night emergencies in the clinic. Can I go home now?