and the time is ( we are +4.5 hours GMT)

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Hello, my name is Mark and I am a fat contractor...

All people talk about when they come from Dwyer to KAF is the food. "The food is so good at Dwyer, blah, blah, blah." Well, I'm here to set the record straight. It is. Seriously. Baked salmon. Yum. Yakisoba. Yum. Apple pie alamode with whipped cream and Carmel sauce. Seriously? Yum. It is so easy to eat three meals a day here. And gain 40 pounds. I have to be a lean, mean, life saving machine so I am skipping dinner again. Of course, that's when they bring out the "good stuff." I don't care. I have to maintain my girlish figure. Don't want "contrator belly." They all must have small penises, 'cause nothing grows in the shade, honey.{sound of E cringing}
This was supposed to be a break for me. I have been busy since I got here. Two emergencies in a row. The crew went to dinner and left me here. I jokingly said, "I hope no sick people come in because all I know how to do is send emails." What a dumbass. I tempted the Gods. The phone rang. There is an emergency at the DFAC. I picked up my trusty radio to call EMS. They don't hear me, so I call them on the phone, and give them the info. The patient has left and is coming to your clinic, the dispatcher calls back to tell me. I look outside. Nope, nada. A few minutes later I see two people carrying a third. They have accidently spilled boiling water on his leg. Ouch. Second degree burns to his leg and foot. My Medics had heard my radio traffic and came back to the clinic. God love 'em. We cool his burns, put our special burn dressing on them and call EMS back to transport him to the Combat Support hospital (CSH, we pronounce it "Cash") Next day, same thing, this time pneumonia. I drive this one to the CSH.
Meanwhile, one of the Medics at the Fire Department is "not acting right." She fell, hit her head and has been dizzy ever since. "Take her to the CSH", I say. I drive down and meet them there. She starts talking to me, then just stops talking and gets dizzy, then talks some more. Laying down. Not good. They CT her head. All normal. The Doc says that she needs a neuro work up. No shit, Sherlock. OK, that was mean. He was very nice. I send out all the notifications, worked on getting her to KAF and then Dubai and a neurologist. I book a hotel room for her next to the hospital and we arrange for our female medic to stay with her at night.
Meanwhile, I am still doing three jobs. Dennis is supposed to be back to take his job back. He comes back but is exhausted by the trip and will have a nap and talk to me tomorrow.
Tomorrow comes. Politics and craziness ensues. This will all be in the book. Book title,"You can't make this shit up."  Chapters:
1. My crazy country manager
2. Stop sexually harrassing EVERYONE
3. General order One, principals, applications, and pun-tang.
4. How to be sent home without really trying.
5. Afghanistan induced Alzheimers (AIH)
General order One, by the way, says that you can't have sex with the military. Or anyone else. Two providers apparently have not read that G.O. So we are now down two providers. Leaving me to do 4 jobs. Oh yeah, and there are two medevacs in the country. One doesn't have insurance, and is bleeding to death. So no one will take him. But, not my problem. I am at Dwyer. Those are handled at KAF and I am the Dwyer provider.
Maybe I'll go get something to eat...

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