Agony

Despite the fact that I work everyday in a war zone thousands of miles away from my family and friends, my most depressing point this week was somewhere else: the gym.

I stepped into the gym for the first time since getting sick two weeks ago. For the week and and half that I had been bed ridden I hadn't even thought about wanting to get out of bed, let alone lift an arm or a leg. I hadn't eaten the whole time I was sick and I was just able to get food down my palate when I decided it was time to get back to work. I stepped on the scale. I knew it wasn't going to be good, it wasn't. I had lost 15 pounds as a result of the infection and the resulting surgery. I didn't have 5 pounds to spare, let alone 15. My sanctuary was turning on me.

I began my workout and realized from the start that it was back to the basics. I couldn't lift nearly what I had before and it took every ounce of energy I had in me to persist through the sets. What had once been a place of calm, a place to burn off energy and release steam had become a place of perpetual torture and torment, with the weights becoming the tools of the torturer. Needless to say, I did not enjoy the workout.

Update: I am eating persistently now and I can even taste the food, although I am not sure that is an improvement at all. I haven't taken a day off since getting back to work for few reasons, but mainly that I have nothing better to do. My avid reading addiction has been helping to pass the time and my attempt now is to read the top 100 novels of the 20th century before I leave here. I have read 12 so far, but I am limited to the books that are here so I have had to order many to be sent. To keep pace, I have calculated that I must read a book almost every day. For this to be accomplished I am going to need a steady flow of books so I must get on the ball.

Regards,
Nick

P.S.- I am using a list published by the Modern Library, the Board's Choice for guidance on the novels.

What a week!

It has certainly been an interesting week and a half since my last post. Let me fill you in.

The morning after the golfing extravaganza I awoke with a sore throat. I knew right away that I was going to get sick, I don't get sick often. Thankfully I didn't have to work that night so I tried to relax as best I could, drinking water and taking my multivitamin, hoping that I would beat this one out. Little did I know that my efforts never would have a chance to fight this one into submission; I began to run a fever.

At first I was just generally miserable: sore throat, myalgia, malaise, and fever. The fever was keeping me up all night and I was popping acetaminophen like candy, but the fever was getting the best of me and eventually it shot up over 103 at which point I decided it was time to get seen and get some antibiotics. The doctor saw Strep Throat and so I grumbled and started taking amoxicillin. I have had this before and at least I knew the antibiotics would help me kick it fast and I would be back to work in a couple days. I assumed too much.

Just a day after starting the amoxicillin I noticed that my throat was actually getting worse and I couldn't hardly speak with such swollen glands. I hadn't eaten in four days now and I was beginning to feel weak, ready to submit to this horrible monster. My fever was going down but the swelling was more prominent than ever, I couldn't open my mouth more than a few centimeters, and as a rather peculiar side effect to the infection, my salivary glands were on overdrive. I was paralyzed, fever ridden, and drooling; time to see the doctor again.

The diagnosis this time was clear: Peritonsillar Abscess. I needed to see a ENT specialist and so it looked like I was going to go for a helicopter ride to Balad. We found an accepting physician there and I was put on IV antibiotic therapy before I headed out on the chopper about six hours later.

Then next morning I met with the physician and it was clear that I needed surgery. Four hours later I was put out and under the blade. I came to about an hour later dazed and struggling to get myself into a bed in the ward. I don't remember if I went to sleep or not but I was quite relieved that the swelling that had been in the back of the throat was mostly gone now. I spent the next two days after that on IV antibiotic therapy and on the third day I was discharged. Now I was unto the biggest challenge yet: trying to make it back to home base.

I didn't have my ID card, a uniform, or a weapon, not a great start to get a flight. It was time to get McGyver again. I scrounged around the hospital and assembled a uniform from old Air Force tops and bottoms and found a pair of boots. Lacking the essentials that characterized me as military, I blended in as a civilian as I found my way to the ID card office. After sweet talking the clerk, she assured me that she could get me and ID the next day, I was in business. I had to cajole my way through security to get back into the hospital and the next day I claimed my new ID card.

0400 this morning- I walked my happy butt to the Passenger Terminal at the airfield in my newly assumed identity and carrying my armor and kevlar. No flights to my base, but there was hope that the Army could get me there in a Sherpa. Yes, it's a called a Sherpa flight. I made it to the Sherpa terminal just in time and two hours later I was riding in the small prop plane they call a Sherpa. I am back now and in just a few hours it's back to work, and it feels good. It felt like a month, but I am back to health.

Oh so relieved,
Nick

Fore!

Forget running, just golf! Mike and I went out this morning after getting off work and did some golfing. Some random person back home sent a hodgepodge of sports items and as it so happened they sent seven different golf clubs also. To our dismay however, they didn't send any golf balls. So Mike went online and ordered 100 used golf balls and had them shipped over. Day in and day out we waited for the package to get here and then it finally arrived. We were so excited that we went out right after shift at the hospital. We climbed out unto one of Saddam's old hangars and swung away on a small pile of dirt.

While some may say we have too much time on our hands or that we spend too much time on the base, we disagree. To that we have only one response: we did our time out on the road, saw as much as we want to see, and now we are extended. So now it's time get comfortable and enjoy life on the FOB. I have also decided to begin another endeavour here.

Starting next week I will be publishing a second blog. It will have nothing to do with Iraq but instead will be a blog concerning topics in science. I have e-mailed a few friends to join in and to co-author the site. It is my prerogative to have a topic posted weekly or bi-weekly written by different authors of the site. The topic can simply be objective or the author can take a stance and voice their personal views on the topic. Then, readers/authors/visitors will have the opportunity to comment, critique, and voice their opinions. I guess you would call it salon of sorts. As soon as I have decided on the site I will post it here.

Pax,
Nick

P.S.- If anyone is interested in writing on the new blog, (i.e. is interested in writing some articles related to science) please e-mail me.

P.P.S.- Mike and I eventually were booted from the top of the hanger after we apparently almost hit someone. FORE!!!

Four Miles

And the race begins, literally. Mike and I have decided that we are going to run the half-marathon in a couple months here. Every few months they host a marathon on post that coincides with the ones at home. The last marathon was the ING Miami and I think the next one might be the Boston. Anyways, we decided to run a pre-marathon 4 mile run to see where we stood. As one may see from the picture, Mike (on the right) looks as though he might need to start out slowly. In fact, we decided that we would have to "train" at a snails pace here for the next few weeks to break in our running legs. Although I would like to run the full marathon, my regular workout doesn't give me the time to train for running, so a half marathon (13.1 miles) will have to do.

I really enjoy my work here now. I spend nights in the ER with some friendly soldiers of the 466th ASMC from upstate New York. Ironically they are very similar to Minnesotans, I even daresay they share the "Minnesota friendly" attitude. Mike works nights in the Intensive Care Ward so we spend most of the night enjoying the quiet hospital.

A recommendation: "The War Tapes". This is a film that I saw when I was up in Balad. It is a film that was shot entirely by soldiers while they were on deployment. Since we shared the same mission as them, watching that film was like watching the memory of our convoy missions playing through my head. It is an honest film, untainted by the media or a Hollywood producer. Watch this if you want to see what my first nine months were like here, but beware, the film is real footage and, as such, has graphic scenes of the reality of war.

You can buy the film here: http://thewartapes.com . It won the Best Documentary at the Tribeca Film Festival and was the winner of the Best International Documentary of the Britdoc Festival.

Pax,
Nick

N.B.- The "beer" in my hand is actually a "near beer", NA Pauli Girl. If only it was real. . .