Quarantine vs Isolation. Doesn't matter, they both suck

 Hello sports fan. I have taken to the blog to vent. After spending over 15 months dealing with Covid patients, flying them around the US, an   taking care of diagnosed Covid patients multiple time, I have been tagged by the Delta Variant. And how did I get it? Not really sure, but it may have something to do with the person to whom I live with. How did she get it? well, things were improving, infection rates were going down, masks were coming off and life was improving with things opening up. Perhaps a little too fast, me thinks. We desperately wanted to return to some semblance of normal. To having fun. Eating inside a restaurant, what a concept. 

The vaccines were the answer. Right?  And I was a cocky fuck because I received the Maderna poke, which had the greatest effectiveness against the Delta. To which I call bullshit. Got off the ship in Hawaii, immediately went back to mask wearing, distancing, etc. Wore my mask on the shitty business class flight on United to SFO. All good. But nooooooooo. 

I have heard the saying on one of my favorite podcasts the saying "don't get happy." It implies that you are setting yourself up for disappointment. I announced three months prior that I will no longer plan anything fun, because it will just get cancelled. Scottish Country dances, conferences in San Diego, and well we could go on and on. Add to that, appointments for marriage license, "Hamilton,"work shifts, sailing, well you get the idea. Why? Because I thought, like a dumbass, that I had allergies. "I scoff in your general direction," says the virus.  I have a rapid test in the garage, so I swabbed my nose and a positive pregnancy test couldn't have poppa positive faster."Fuck." says I. Then a trip to Kaiser for a PCR  test and then the email with the bad news. 

So, now I am in "isolation." Sitting at home for 10 days. Am I angry? Was for about a day. Now. as the song says, I have "let it go." Doesn't matter where I got it. I got it. The good: I am not in a hospital intubated. I have a nice house to hang out in, with wifi. I have money set aside for a rainy day, now it's drizzling. And I live with an ICU nurse. Funny story, I announced that if I get admitted, I did not want to get intubated. Apparently, that was incorrect. Who knew? Apparently I just love me an ET tube. And we all know what the "E" stands for. I can hear it now," Hold his stupid ass down, give him more drugs, and tube his ass" Ah, true love.

The bad: I hate doing nothing. I was spoiled because I had something to do during the pandemic. Well, now the crows have come home to roust. With positive covid tests. and for 10 days. Just don't poop on my car.....

Ride Da Bus

We have been at sea for 2 days now. A week in Honolulu before departing, half in a hotel and half on the ship. E came with me and stayed until we departed. She stood on the dock a waved goodbye, just like a 30’s movie seeing her man off to sea. But this time we talked on the cellphone took digital photos and emailed them to each other. Just like the Queen Mary but with email.

We used the bus system in Honolulu to get around, and it’s called “The Bus;) their app is called “Da Bus.” Of course it is. We bought a buss guide to help us navigate the system. Which to say the least was..hmmm, how can I say this, very Hawaian. No route map, you have to go to their website, except it doesn’t have all of the streets on it.  We wanted to go to the Waikiki Aquarian, so we looked it up in our trusty guide. Turns out that the number 2 bus runs from our hotel directly there. Cool. So with $2.50 in hand we boarded the bus, got our transfer and, like in San Francisco, watched the crazy homeless people board the bus with us. Of course they sat right by me. I am a crazy homeless person magnet. It’s a gift. But they seem nicer here. And more tanned. We were chugging merrily along and all of a sudden we turned left, away from the ocean. E got up and asked the bus driver and she said, ”we don’t go there any more.” We looked at the date on the bus guide. Yes, it was brand new. So we got off and just walked to the aquarium, stopping for lunch at a beachside café along the way. The Aquarium is great, by the way; stop by if you’re ever there. Just take the 19 bus. Everywhere we go there is a 19 bus. It’s the bus we take to get to downtown San Francisco and the library, the bus I took to get to the ship from our hotel, and the bus we should of taken to get to the aquarium….

Note the KAF badges...

That's Geoff, Ryan, Karki, Woody and some dumb ass PA in the clinic area playing "Captain Morgan". We are all wearing out ID. You can be stopped and taking in by the MPs if you don't have it on. Those guys have noooo sense of humor. We are watching the tragedy in Japan as we deal with a disaster of our own. Wish I could tell you about it. Ask my after May 15 when I'm home for R and R. My 94 year old father in law is getting a C-47 WW II aircraft painted in his aircraft's colors in Indianapolis in May. Can't miss that.
It has gone from cold to hot like that {snap} here. I have been left in charge for awhile.  Wait  a minute ,  I heard that............

I shoulda taken the reds, man...

If you are old and a child of the 70’s, like me, you grew up with Cheech and Chong. Smokin’ dope and listening to “Big Bamboo”. On the big black CD that required a needle to play. Phonograph needle, that is. They had a bit called, “let’s make a drug deal,” a parody of the TV show “Let’s make a deal.”  Anyone who has been in the military knows that there is an official way of doing things and then there’s the unofficial way of getting stuff done. Here we call those Drug Deals. One problem here is that some drug deals have been done that should have been done the official way and I have spent a considerable amount of time and energy undoing those deals and crossing my T’s and dotting the I’s so that there is a paper trail and making amends to officials who were none too happy after they found out about the transaction in question. However, that doesn’t mean that the deal de drug is still not happening. Yesterday was just such a day. I have talked about all the rules that we have to follow. One rule is that you have to wear a reflective belt after sundown. Makes sense, we don’t have a lot of street lights here. Kind of an easy way to adjust your aim, if you know what I mean. Also, you have to wash your hands before going to the Dfac to eat. Not ridiculous rules by any means. But they set up a sting and they checked everybody’s IDs and made sure that you had a belt on. If not you got busted. Karki, the Chief Medic, headed out without his belt to dinner and got busted by The Man. Calls of “Karki got arrested” rang out throughout the clinic. Panic ensued until he walked in, none too happy. Also someone was driving our black pickup truck and backed into someone who was also backing up. Two objects cannot occupy the same place in space, I think that is like Fig Newton physics or something, and smash. So we had a “safety stand down.” Which means we had a lecture on backing and belt wearing. Or I think we did. I signed a paper saying I went to a lecture on it. Musta been the world’s shortest lecture because afterwards someone mentioned that they forgot to do the lecture part. Oh well. I will definitely back up wearing my reflective belt from now on.

Yesterday was the Role one meeting. It was at a different spot, the Canadian House and we had Tim Horton donuts, yum. Amazing the information that you learn after the meeting ends. Two quick conversations later, I was off doing deals and solved two patients’ problems that have been going on for awhile. One, a patient that we have been trying to get out of country and the other that walked in in the morning that had baffled us. Problem 1 solved with a color copier. Problem 2 solved with a consult by a Doc who just happened to be hanging around and was the specialty that I was looking for. A free donut and two medevacs. Now that’s a drug deal…

Thoughts, one each, random. Use with caution...

I've lost my damn room key. Do I report it and risk humiliation? Do I leave my room open and risk getting my stuff stolen. Or do I do what everybody else does and lock it and open it with a knife later on?

My running buddy David, another PA, leaves today to get trained in his new assignment at another base. Bummer, I guess there's always Skype...

Attention Muslims: Stop killing people over the idiot in Florida. Enough already. OK he burned the Koran, he's a dumb ass, but over react much? Our constitution allows him to do that. Your religion does not allow you to kill Innocent people who had nothing to do with it. So knock it the hell off. Makes you look bad.

Attention American forces: Quit killing Innocent Muslims and Afghans that are minding there own business. Jesus Christ people, just 'cause you're in a vehicle and stopped to have a picnic and pray doesn't mean that it's OK to send a Predator and A-10's to kill families and children because you were in a hurry to "neutralize the threat." What threat? "Blue leader, looks like Naan and chapli kebab but could be a Frisbee mounted IED, going to guns." Makes us look bad.

I replaced the F word with hell. Made me look bad.

I'm so glad that I brought my Ipod.

Trains, planes, and automobiles...oh, and a sailboat

Me at the helm with the GGB in the background

Jay and Robert

In 12 hours it's back on the plane for Afghanistan. When asked, most people always say,"it was too short" in response to "How was R and R?" So how was mine? Too short. It is so nice to be home. And to see E. And to take long showers. And it good food. And see my friends. And go dancing. And get a REAL smoothie (note to self: get one in the morning). I wonder how many people don't come back? Worry not sports fans, I am going back.  I was a whirlwind weekend. I taught ACLS on Friday then rode the train to Sacramento and took  a cab to the hotel. As we were checking in we saw the "free shuttle to Amtrak" sign. Now you tell us. Then dance workshop and Ball on Saturday. Off to see my friend Mary Sunday morning and Mom and Dad on Sunday night. Well Dad, anyway. Long story. Sailing this morning with my friend Robert on my other friend's Jay and Jeannie's boat and then a really good dinner at Firefly in San Francisco and..I'm exhausted. I need to go back to Afghanistan for some rest. Not a lot of sailing in KAF. Well, there is the Poo pond, but let's not go there. Literally. While we were out someone jumped off of the Golden Gate Bridge, right in front of a ferry. I can only imagine the Captain trying to distract the tourists by saying "everyone look off the Port side..." Too bad. Not what you want to see on vacation. The Coast Guard kept making an announcement to kepp a sharp look out for someone in the water.
We flew Southwest airlines back from Indiana. So nice. No expectations, so no disappointments. Just some sodas and a bag of snacks and nice flight attendants. One sang at the end of the flight. And then at the end of her announcement said,"...and if you're connecting with another airline, we just don't care." Gotta love that.

I think that they're trying to tell me something...C

Well, my teaching gig of 20 years is closing. In one email, they begged me to teach a class next month, in another, they told me that they are shutting the doors at the end of this month. I'm soooooo confused. So now I need a gig until June 23.
OK, found one. A friend is offering "house call services" in the Bay area. Already did a couple of shifts, only get paid if you get calls. Calls to houses, apartments and hotels. One of my first shifts was during the Bay to Breakers race. For those not familiar with this event it is 7 miles of craziness disguised as a race. A race with alcohol, costumes and nakedness. Yes, must be San Francisco. Of course I got a call at a hotel right in the middle of the madness. The person was from out of town and when I tried to explain to him that it would be awhile to get to him, after I tried to even get close, with no luck, I told him to look out of his hotel window. "Oh," he said. "I see what you mean."

"Captain's log star date.." Oh wait, "Medical officers log…"

In 4 hours I become the Medical Officer for TS Golden Bear. Along with a physician, we will be responsible for the medical care of 330 students, crew and staff while sailing the Pacific ocean. What could possibly go wrong? OK, don't answer that. Being on California time and going to bed early, I woke up at 0400 Hawaii time in a hotel overlooking the harbor. Took E on a tour of the ship last night and she enjoyed "Captain's cocktail" hour, the last alcohol on the ship for awhile. She saw my cabin, which really is spacious and sickbay and the ward, along with the Ward room, the dining room for us officer types. One of the Docs is using the "Star Trek" model for his relationship with the Captain. Does this make me Nurse Chapel? Please, please don't make him say "He's dead, Jim." Or in this case, "He's dead, Sam." Nope, not on our watch. Literally.

We will be in Port for a few days, changing crew and cadets. Getting settled in and figuring out our way around a 500 foot long ship. I'm semi-familiar with it but I already got lost giving E the tour to the ward room. I ended up near the gym in the bottom of the ship. Of course I explained that it was all part of the tour. She didn't buy it...

Sandmedic meet Sailmedic, again.

In less than a month a new adventure begins. Off to the a ships medical officer on the Training ship Golden Bear. A ship that trains future US Merchant Marines. Part of the California State University system. It is already on "cruise 1" and I will fly to Hawaii to start "cruise 2" on June 25. Me and a physician. What could possibly go wrong?
The ship will sail to Vietnam, Saipan, Korea, San Diego and then back to Vallejo where it departed a month ago. They have had to bypass Vietnam on this cruise because the Chinese and the Vietnamese are not playing well with each other. And it involves ships. And gunfire. And ramming. Jesus, can't I get away from this stuff? So, I thought I would fire up the ole blog and see what happens. There is limited or no internet on the ship but I will endeavor to post when I can.
Stay tuned.
"This is a test. This is only a test, if this were an actual blog you would of been directed …."

It's 2013, I'm baack, and I got my redhead ass kicked...

After not finding a better (is there one?) alternative job, I have returned to Condo B and the Lake clinic in Yellowstone National Park for the summer. I had a side trip to Cuba for two weeks, but that's a different story. E and I packed up the car and made the 3 day trek to the Park. We made a side trip through Salt Lake City so I could have my "Trusted Traveler  interview with Customs. They said it would take months to get an interview. It only took two weeks. Huh, who'd a thunk that the gov-mn't would become efficient?
I have been here  two weeks and have been through orientation. My buddy Tim, the other PA  went to Afghanistan then Iraq and then back to Salt Lake City, but that's a whole 'nother story. It is great because lots of other folks are back and will make it easier to train the new folks and solve the never ending challenges of working amongst the bison and bullshit that comes with working at 8000 feet in a National Park 85 miles from the closet hospital and 200 miles from the closest trauma center.  All in a days work.
Speaking of which...
I did my first shift at the Old Faithful Clinic. Opening day, should be quiet. Nothing but a physical and a boo-boo or "ouwie" or two.  It's about an hour drive from Lake. Probably the most beautiful commute on the planet. Lake to the left of me, geysers to the right of me. Maybe a bison or bear jam, but wtf I can't believe that they pay me for this. Then I arrived at the clinic. There were two people waiting outside for me. One had his hand wrapped in a towel with an ice pack. The other, well...
Hand guy had had a drink or two and punched a wall.  He ended up with a boxer fracture. I wonder why they call it that? He got a splint and a call to Mom to explain that he was no longer employed, needed a plane ticket home and an Orthopedic surgeon. Oh, yeah, by the way can you put me back on your insurance? Man number 2 wanted antibiotics until October when he had saved up enough money to have his rotten tooth pulled.  Seriously, I think not. I found him a dentist who will pull his tooth for a low fee. On Wednesday. Please leave my clinic now.  Then the tail of two balls. One ball for each young man who came in back to back with a complaint of "swollen testicle." OK, only one had that complaint. The other was too shy to tell the female nurse about his swollen nut. He said "groin pain." He was so relieved that there was a male PA working that day. I checked out his swollen manhood and decided that he need an ultrasound. There is a condition called "testicular torsion" that can kill a testicle. I called around and found him an ultrasound. An hour and a half drive away. No problem for him, he jumped into his car and was on his way. Just a shot and antibiotics for grande cojones number two (dos?). I told him about the shot and he asked me if it was going to be in his nut. {long pause} The wheels started turning, the angel and devil appeared on each shoulder, but professionalism kicked in at an inappropriate time and I advised him that it would be in the butt, not the nut. Then I saw bronchitis, a growth on an ear, shortness of breath because of stuffed up nose and altitude, and a request for a therapy dog. Seriously. Long story that I can't tell. At the end of the day in walked a dizzy man about to pass out.  Pulse of 150 and dehydrated. Did I mention his chest pain three days ago? Neither did he. I know what you're thinking, helicopter. Not so fast rotor boy. I gave him 800cc's of IV fluid, slowed his heart rate down and re-did his EKG which was flashing "STEMI alert" I wasn't buying it. After his pulse slowed a wee bit the STEMI (google it) alert went away. He got an ambulance ride for some blood tests and observation. During all this the phone rang with a message for me to call the ultrasound tech. Cool, a report on dude number one, probably all good, or to tell me that he sent him to the ER for treatment.  His exact words were, "you're dude has cancer on his left nut." I said, out loud, to the clinic "Fuck!" Maybe a little too loud.  I got a wee talking to about it. Didn't really care. He has to come back to the clinic for the news. I won't be there. I had to call my relief to explain the situation to her. Imagine how happy she was about that. Maybe I can write her a prescription for a therapy dog...

Hello my name is Mark and I'm here to ruin your vacation...

Nothing is simple in life and doubley so at the little clinic by the big lake. Last night we had two major lightening storms, two sick patients and two helicopter flights out of here. It is quite weird watching lightening strike around the clinic, watching the power go out and then calling to launch a helicopter. "This too shall pass,'" we say when it comes to storms.
My first patient had 6 surgeries in the past year and half and now had a hot red abdomen. I'm thinking that I would be the cause of number 7. And {ding} I was right. Just as I left to go home, the phone rang for me to come back and check out a young woman having chest pain. Dodging lightening on the way to the clinic, I'm thinking, "nothing flying tonight." Nope, wrong. Storm passes, helicopter lands, and off she goes. She was a mystery to us and a mystery to the cardiologist in Idaho Falls.
Noone wants to leave the Park. They waited for ever and paid a lot of money for this trip. Plus Aunt Blabby from East Dearsperm Nebraska, who never leaves her house, has consented to come here to see her long lost nephew who joined the Latvian Merchant Marines at age 8 who has come to Jellystone to "reconnect with his family." Unfortunatly, Uncle Blabby has had the big one and needs to go. Uncle B doesn't want to ruin the Blabby family's vacation. And so the negotiation starts. Where to send him, how to send him. No, you can't drive your motorhome back to Nebraska. No, we can't fly you to the Mayo clinic (actual request). No, I can't rent you an oxygen tank for a week so that you don't turn blue walking to the bathroom (actual request). All y'all-we are at 8,00 feet. Not the place to come with your emphysema..I'm just sayin'...

4 wheel drive? not so much...

Finally a moment to catch up. Well sort of. We have been here a little over a month. Running around, looking at wildlife, seeing up our little apartment and me trying to learn my new job.
We have been driving around checking the place out so that we can be good tour guides for our guests. We have done very little hiking due to snow and bears. You have to take the bear warnings seriously as there are some serious bears out there. Mostly females with cubs. And they aren't crazy about you coming close to their offspring. Like a Momma Grizzly guarding her cubs, except this IS a momma grizzly guarding her cubs. Sarah Palin, are you listening? Probably not.
Anyway, we were driving around and came across a small patch of snow. "Time to test out this new all wheel drive vehicle that I bought," says I. What's the worst that could happen? Wait for it...yup I got stuck. Turns out that two wheels of the four turn, the two that didn't touch the asphalt. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I got stuck on a 6 by 6 patch of snow. Well, to be fair to me, snow and ice. E and I had to dig our selves out. Fortunately, a nice Australian couple happened by and video'd the operation. Just as I was behind the wheel and E was digging. Really, I had been digging. The Aussies didn't believe me though. They laughed and gave us some wood to put under the turning wheels. Took awhile, but we got out. Rough work at 8,000 feet. Well, for E anyway. I was driving as she dug...

Bison and eagles and bears...oh my.

After three days on amazingly straight roads we arrived at Yellowstone. As we looked at the GPS it was one straight ribbon until we turned left in Nevada and headed for Idaho. A more boring road couldn't of been had.
We had a great Cinco de Mayo dinner in Idaho Falls and won the raffle. Unfortunately our car is packed to the gills, we had to buy groceries and had no room. So we gave our basket of goodies to the table next to us.
We are hear in our little apartment that is great about 800 square feet. Two bedrooms and the most amazing view. It is exactly one minute from the clinic.
We had a welcome dinner and have started orientation on Tuesday. I think my head my explode. On Tuesday night we had a helicopter orientation and I won a helicopter ride around the Lake. It's too bad that they don't have the lottery here; I am on a roll.
We had to make a mad dash to Cody, Wyoming to buy more groceries. It's an hour and a half each way. A beautiful drive and Cody is very nice. They have a brand new library which is amazing. They charge 15-25 dollars for a library card for us "out of towners." We said that we'd think about it.

Eilen has seen two grizzlies. I have seen one. There is Bison poop everywhere. Where there is poop there is Bison. It is pitch black at night and apparently there is one that likes to sleep outside of the clinic. Haven't "run " in to him yet. Guess I'll buy more flashlight on our next run to Cody...

The over/under on...packing

Greetings from Winnemucca, Nevada, one third of the way to Yellowstone National Park. Me and E or E and I or e,i,e,i,o...are off on adventure #2. I am going to work at the Lake Yellowstone clinic and E will look at wolfs and bison and bears and oh my. We packed the car yesterday within an inch of its life and headed to Manteca We went to see Mum and Dad where Dad informed us that there should be a doctor at the clinic "not just you." Ah with support like that, how could I go wrong. Thanks dad.
We stoppes at Cabellas, just outside of Reno which is an amazing hunting/camping/fishing store complete with huge aquarium and stuffed dead things. We went to by bear spray which I tried on the stuffed bear there and seemed to work pretty well. Stopped him in dead his tracks. Actually I think that his still in that same position. This stuff works great!
The car has Sirius satellite radio which is great beause there are two sations here. One is "Godtalk" and the other is country. Which is two more than in Yellowstone. We listened to "Willie's Roadhouse" hoping to hear "on the road again."
Traditional bad joke-Why did Willie Nelson get hit by a car?
He was playing on the road again...  {groan}

Packing pre-adventure

I have been asked to continue this...whatever this is...for Yellowstone. So here goes. We leave Friday for the 1000 mile drive in the new car. What was it the Chinese say about a journey of a thousand miles? It begins with...a trip to Uhaul for boxes.
I'm thinking that the rocket attack part of the blog will be missing. I'm hoping that it will not be replaced with the bear attack alarm, but one never knows. The living room is full of boxes, some half packed. I am sure two things will happen:
1. We will send back stuff that we didn't need.
2. We sill say," damn we should of brought ..."
But there is Cody, Wyoming just a mere 85 miles away to buy stuff we need. The speed limit in the Park is 45mph. You do the math.

Kandahar comes to the Bay Area (well, not really)

So, I buy a new car. I bid a sad farewell to the Explorer, that has served me well for these past 16 years and 318,000 miles, and downsize to a Ford Escape. OK, maybe it was time for a new car. Have to have something reliable to get us to Yellowstone and maybe a little more fuel effiicent. But this is San Francisco, so the passenger window was broken out and stuff was stolen. All can be replaced. It had its cherry popped. Got the broken window out of the way, time to move on with life in the big City. I called the insurance comopany and they set up an appointment for the following Tuesday. So the car goes in the garage and E's car goes on the street, causing me sleepless nights thinking that her window was next. I asked for a Monday appointment but was told that they have to order the part because the car was new. The part will be there on Tuesday. OK, public transit and borrowing of cars until Tuesday. Tuesday comes. I have to drive to South San Francisco because the Fourth Street place has closed. Window down, heater blazing and I am off. I arrive early and take a seat in the office. Finally someone come and signs me in. I sign the work order and the guy asks if I am going to wait, or should he call me or am I going to "wander around?" I chose wander around. He takes my cell number and says that he will call in an hour to an hour and a half when the job is done. No worries. I begin my wandering. I stop at a tile shop and check out bathroom tile for the remodeel that will happen post Yellowstone and then make my way to downtown South City. I find their very nice old library and take a seat to read the Chronicle. Half way through Doonesbery my phone vibrates and I notice it's Safelite glass. Hmmmmm. My hour isn't up yet. I whisper "Hello" in the phone, the voice on the other end informs me that they can't find the glass in the shop. They have to order it. It will be here tomorrow. This is Tuesday, glass will be there Wednesday. The appointment was scheduled for Tuesday so that the glass would be here. On, say it with me,  Tuesday!!! Do I want the car or leave it? Leave it, it'll be safer in your shop. I see a bus and ask the driver about getting to CALTRAIN. He says I have to walk four blocks and get a ride to the San Mateo Station, which is South. I then realize that at the end of the block is the overpass that will take me to the South City station. I hike down there and wait. There are a bunch of Giants fans waiting for a train to take the North to AT&T Park. I call CALTRAIN and ask for the next North bound train that will stop at 22nd street, my stop. "AT 5:05," the lady says. That's 40 minutes from now. I ask her if that's the only train, she confirms that yes, it is. Five minutes later a North bound train stops. I figure that I'll get on and get off at the end of the line  at King street and take a bus home. The conducter announces the next two stops. The second stop is 22nd street. "Seriously, are you fucking kiding me?!" I say out loud. Luckily this train is going to San Francisco, so they are used to crazy people cursing to themselves.Two stops later, I am at my stop. 10 minutes later, another train stops. It is not quite 5:05 yet. I am temted to call teh CALTRAIN lady back and offer to get her a copy of the schedule that I took from the train. Or offer her a job in Afghanistan. She'd fit right in...

one last story (maybe)

During the last three days in country, I started backing off my involvement in the morning meetings. JP was there and it was becoming his clinic. However I have to tell you this: I came in and sat down and noticed three new older gentlemen in the meeting. People come and go and I rarely know who's new, they just show up or they are fire medics going on R and R and I have no idea who they are. But here where these three guys siting in our meeting. The meeting starts and Karki announces that we are going to  have a safety talk. I prefer the safety dance, but that's another story. Anyway I'm all for safety so bring it on. So one of the guys stands up and starts talking about crane safety. The big cranes that drive around the base. I'm thinking,OK, how to be careful around these things, so shit don;'t get dropped on you." Nope, it's how to drive them safely. More specifically, it's how to get in and out of them. Three point contact at all times (take home point). Avoid falling out of them. Gravity is a bitch. All I could think was,"do these guys know that we are the medical clinic and rarely drive a billion ton crane?"  The sad part was that we all just listened politely, nodded our heads occasionally and thanked them for coming. No one said a  thing about the fact that we really don't need this lecture. We are just trained to do what they tell us. The medical sheep. Sheep who drive cranes.
But, if I ever get in and out of one, I am ready...

Maybe I can just use the rocks in my head...

When I came here a year ago someone told me to bring some "mud boots." That was one of the best suggestions ever. We live on a dirt base. Very few paved roads here. When it rains it turns in to a mud base. With flooding. And rocket attacks.
The temperature has dropped down to 28 degrees in the morning and the big puddle that has formed in the front of the clinic between the physical exam tent and the bathrooms has turned into a skating rink.
A muddy, semi-frozen skating rink, causing two people to fall. The problem is a low spot and a shortage of rocks that we have in our driveway. We requested more rock in December but it was denied. No acceptable. I was on a mission, get more rocks. I went to the head of the safety department and explained the problem. "Get more rocks," he said. Then he called the Site Manager for rocks. Off I went to her office. She barley speaks english. Great. "no rock," she says in her Russian accent."Risk management has rock."  Thank you Natasha. Say hello to Boris.  "Why do lawyers have rocks?" I wondered. Of course they do, this is Afghanistan. Off I went to risk management. "I need rocks," says I. "Why would we have rocks?," the lawyers asked. "Why wouldn't you?" I replied. I explained the situation. Told them that I was sent by the site manger here. To look for Bullwinkle, I mean Rocky, I mean rocks. We'll be over later to check it out they said. Later that afternoon a lawyer showed up, looked at the situation and declared, "you need more rocks." No shit, Perry Mason. He advised me to order some and tell them that safety and risk management says that we need rocks. He then told me that they, the lawyers, didn't have rocks but had dirt at one time. More dirt? More mud. Thanks for the advise, counselor, you may go.
Order was put in for rocks. And denied. They don't have any rocks. We are in the middle of a desert and we have no rocks! Turns out the rocks are kept by our competition, Dyncorp only smooths out the rocks but you have to bring your own rocks. BYOR. We have rocks, I've seen them. They're everywhere. I engage my Kiwi spy. "Get rocks," I say. "Roger,"he says. Actually it was more like "Rogahh" and threw in a mate or two. Yesterday after lunch, rocks arrived. Didn't ask where he got them. But we had both seen a huge pile of rocks on the other side of the base. Probably just a coincidence. We went and got shovels and spread them out, eliminated our mini-me poo pond and skating rink. I was so happy.
A member of management happened by and said," see Mark, I told you that we would get you rocks, you just had to go through official channels."
I will leave to your imagination what my reply was.

Well, it is a general ORDER, not a suggestion

"General Order No.1B (GO No.1B) is enforced at KAF. Among other things, GO No.1B prohibits the possession or consumption of alcoholic beverages and/or nonprescription drugs, possession of pornography and entering sleeping quarters of the opposite gender. These are serious offenses and the consequences are severe."

This place is all about rules. For some reason, some people have a problem with that. Four in the last month to be exact. And some went for the trifecta and broke three at the same time! So one person shacked up with another person, even though that person was married. And kept her in his quarters in full view of everybody else. Dumbass. He is gone. 

Two people have been "doing it" but they are not married and were kind of doing it on the down low, except they wouldn't answer their phones during the day because they were, well "busy." Then they found alcohol on the base. Those silly Russians and their need for "wod-ka." And drove a vehicle. And put the vehicle in a ditch. And were found by the IMPs. And one was taken onto custody. So they are gone. Double dumb asses. They are now banned from doing anymore contracting work or even entering a US military base anywhere in the world. You can't make this shit up. That's ok, there are plenty of jobs back in the US. Oh, wait no there's not. Dumb asses...

A week and a wake up. Oh, wait, I'm already up.

So, I'm back at KAF. Sitting next to me on my bed are two big boxes that I have to figure out how to get to the Post Office to mail home with all the junk that I have collected over the last year. They keep changing the rules. First rule change was only Americans can use the post office. So if you are a foreign national with stuff to mail home, too bad. Now they don't take cash. Or credit cards or ATM cards. Just wampam and baseball trading cards, I guess. Actually they take the "Eagle Cash card," the military version of an ATM. Which I don't have. So drug deals are being dealt even as we speak. I am trading a ride in my new shiny red SUV (still a Toyota four runner) for use of a card. But someone at the clinic loaned me one also. Except he gave me the wrong pin number. I tested it at the PX, just in case. Thank God. Would of been just a little embarrassing at ye ole Post Office. Sir, we need you to go with these nice men with guns..."
I flew back from Dwyer on the Dash-8, which is a step up from the Dash-7. Only two engines, much nicer and quieter. Was going to be a five hour flight but one of our stops was fogged in, bummer. So I got back in a reasonable amount of time. We did have to stop for fuel, however. Usually they empty the plane, we go to the terminal, pee, get something to eat and re-board. This time we went to the "new terminal." Except there was no terminal, so we just stood out in the rain. No bathroom, nothing to eat. Standing in the rain makes you have to pee even more for some reason. So, after we boarded the lavatory became quite popular. The lone flight attendant was quite the neat freak. After every passenger went in there she dashed in with cleaning supplies. The plane was immaculate, which is hard to do in Afghanistan.
I am calling it "the dash on the Dash." Which is better than Bill had, when he tried to get here to go on R and R, when he missed his flight here because he went to the wrong terminal and had to make the dash FOR the dash. Which he lost and ended up with a cold helicopter ride instead.

The "Dsh-8"

The less cool"dash-7"