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......
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