Nothing like a little change...

It has been a few weeks since I have updated my blog, for that I apologize. Things have slowed down somewhat compared to this past summer, but we are still pretty busy. We were told just the other day that we are the single busiest FST in all of CENTCOM. That means we do more and see more patients than any other area, including Iraq.

As you can see by the pictures, things have changed around here. We woke up in the morning to find the whole valley covered in snow. This was fun and beautiful for about 2 hours, then it just started getting wet, cold and slushy. Many of you who live in areas that snow know about "slushy". Except this is slushy with mud underneath. We had a fun snowball fight and built a snowman. I then spent the rest of the day underneath an electric blanket watching movies. Not a bad "snow day".

There are other changes afoot here at Shank. This week I will be moving locations on a back-fill mission for about a month. I will be going way far down south with a FST that is supporting the Marines near Helmand Province. It is kind of a bummer to be leaving my "family" during the holidays, but it will be good to have a change over the next couple of months. By the time I get back I will be down to single digit weeks before my return to civilization. I am going to fill in for a surgeon who is going home of R&R during his year long deployment. It also happens to be a good friend of mine from medical school. That to me, makes it all better. It will be quite an adventure just getting there and then we will see what life is like. I have been very fortunate to be in a "busy" FST and this experience has been one of a life time.

Change is really what we as humans and children of God are all about. Our adaptability is one thing that separates us from most all other species on earth. Moreover, the ability to change one's soul is what Christ is all about. To understand how this occurs through the atonement, we have to understand the fall of Adam and the effects of the fall.

"The fall" is a term to describe the sentinel event where Adam and Eve used their agency to partake of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil and separate themselves from the presence of God. The act was what allowed our own existence, yet is also introduced sin and death into the world. They became mortal, imperfect and unable to stand in the presence of God. All of our imperfections, are a result of the fall. Addictions, sins, sickness, pain, and punishment are a result of this action. In order to prepare a way for us to be worthy to return to the presence of God, He sent His Son, Jesus Christ who in Gethsemane and on the cross, paid the price for all of these effects of the fall. It is written that he "descended below all things.." so that he would know how to help lift us from our misery. Christ doesn't just empathize with our pain and suffering, he experienced our pain and suffering. As we come unto Him, and embrace the atonement, become justified and sanctified in Him, He changes our hearts and our souls. Through him, we are in essence "born again" and He changes us. This change is a process, sometime an arduous process. We repent and allow the atonement to change our lives.

Foxnews story about where I work and what I am doing...

I posted this article on facebook, but I was super excited to read this. Now that we are starting to see some slow down my big project is to develop a physician mentorship program for local nation physicians.

I proposed this project to Captain Palko (from the story) about a month or so ago and I think I surprised him. I think he was expecting us to want to start bringing Afghani's onto the FOB where we could do their operations. He was pleasantly surprised when we told him that we wanted to develop a program where we would bring the local physicians onto the FOB and engage them with a mentorship program.

In this program we will have a didactic section that has already been developed and translated into Dhari (local language). We can then get these physicians to bring complex patients, or just patients who have specific problems that we can help teach them to deal with. I hope to get the local brigade involved as well to help with the non-surgical topics and get them to take ownership of the program so when I leave in 3 months it will be self sustaining.

The pictures I loaded up are of the surrounding terrain. It was absolutely beautiful taking these pictures. My little point and shoot camer just does not do it justice. Much to Sarah's dismay it has me looking at SLR's again.

Tender Mercies...

We have been busy this week here at Shank. Someone somewhere said things were supposed to slow down once it started getting cold. I have yet to see any slow down. Before I get into my blog I will give the scoop on the photos for this week.

Yes, it is getting cold. This is evidenced by all of the snow on the mountains. Those mountains are south of us, between us and the Pakistan border. We'll see if that makes a difference in the amount of casualties. Our elevation is around 6500 feet, and those mountains are at least 11-12K feet. The lows this week are supposed to be in the 20's. This is why I think that the Nobel Peace Prize should be given to the inventor of the electric blanket. Think about how many lives are saved because of electric blankets! I can think of at least four. The nurses control the thermostat as we share a heater between out two tents. This is a huge, industrial strength heater to heat up about 400 square feet of living space. As a result, when the heater is on, it really heats up quick, and the thermostat is more of a rough estimate at best. For some reason the nurses don't like it steaming hot and they don't like to turn the heater on. Problem solved, preheat the electric blanket at "5" an hour before bed and when it is time to insert myself into the oven, turn the heat to "4" and cook for as many hours as possible. Because for every hour I am asleep, it is an hour that I am not here in Afghanistan! BTW, I would also add for strong consideration for the Nobel Peace Prize the inventor of the washable marker. How many childrens' lives have been saved because they colored on the wall with washable markers? Think of the children!

The second photo is me operating with my scrub tech, Specialist Roberts. We are doing a Hartmann's colostomy after I diagnosed my patient with a penetrating rectal injury from a mortar fragment. How I made the diagnosis is a story for my brother and I to share at the dinner table, not here on the internet. Specialist Roberts is a great OR tech and an aspiring orthopedic surgeon.

This week, I couldn't help but think about 1 Nephi 1:20. The book of Nephi, (First book in the Book of Mormon) appears to be written retrospectively by Nephi. Here is his family, being cast out of their nice home, their riches, friends and all of their own hopes and dreams for their future being thrown out the window. They faithfully follow their father into the wilderness to save their family from the destruction of Jerusalem. Nephi, again with the ability to look back over his journey says, "But behold, I Nephi, will show unto you that the tender mercies of the Lord are over all those whom he hath chosen, because of their faith, to make them mighty even unto the power of deliverance". Nephi begins the Book of Mormon with this premise: Look and see how keeping the commandments, following the Savior Jesus Christ will lead you to happiness.

To understand the "tender mercies of the Lord" we have to first understand that God is our Father in Heaven and as such loves us. We are not talking about a fleeting feeling or sympathy. I am talking about a deep rooted and eternal charity that led him to send his only begotten Son to suffer and die for each of us. We have to have faith that he knows each of us, as parents knows their children. He knows our wants, our desires, our passions and our pains. He knows what we want most and what is most important to us. This is our Heavenly Father we are talking about, he knows us better than we know ourselves. I firmly believe that He cares about the little stuff too.

Over the next several chapters, Nephi shows us how the Lord delivers him and his family from various challenges and trials. He blesses them with scriptures, families and a way to travel across the ocean to their Promised Land. In fact, this is one of the premises of the entire Book of Mormon. The next time I read the Book of Mormon, I am going to focus on picking out the tender mercies of the Lord.

This week I observed a tender mercy of the Lord. If you remember my last posting, there is a soldier from Utah that was going home for the birth of his first son. He left Afghanistan on Monday morning, traveled for more than 20 hours to Salt Lake City. While driving home from the airport with his 38 week pregnant wife on I-15 she went into labor, and a few hours later, his son was born. I don't believe in coincidence, only divine intervention. I know he wanted nothing more than to spend his R&R time with his wife and newborn. The Lord made it happen that they could have that time. Link to the KSL story: http://www.ksl.com/?nid=148&sid=8651687

In each of our lives, we can see tender mercies extended to us. It can be so easy to allow the whispering of the adversary to blind us from what the Lord has extended to each of us. I am humbled and amazed at how merciful He has been to me and my family. On of the greatest mercies that I have received of the Lord is my eternal companion, Sarah. Followed closely by my little own little ones. It doesn't end there. I can go on for a long, long time detailing the many ways that I have been blessed.

The principle lesson that I have learned over the past several years, is encapsulated by the love that a Father has for his children. As a father, I want all of my kid's dreams and desires to become a reality. If we live our lives in such a way that the spirit of the Lord can guide us, He will lead us to happiness.

Afghanistan has taught me many lessons about life, and about myself. I am truly grateful to my Father for giving me the opportunity to be here. For the past 14 years, I have wanted to be right here. I have fasted and prayed many times, that I might be an instrument in the hands of the Lord to bless his children on the earth. To be an answer to the prayers of hundreds of loved ones, back at home who kneel every night and ask God to protect their fathers and bring them home to the ones they love. It is hard being away from my best friend and my children. They are growing up so fast and I miss being with them. This is but for a brief moment me, yet for others it will be an eternity.

Inspiration...

Tonight I wanted to update my journal and I wasn't quite sure what to write. Usually when I get this block in my mind I turn on my sister's music. She has composed, performed and recorded a number of religious songs. If you have never had the chance to listen to her music she has a phenomenal voice and the words speak of her life and love of the Savior. It is one of the most uplifting things I have amidst a world of chaos, death and destruction.

There are a few other inspirations that I have around me. Some are here in Afghanistan and most are at home. Tom Hanks produced a HBO series not long ago called, "Band of Brothers". This TV drama explored the deep reasons surrounding why soldiers fight? The end analysis was that they fought for the guys next to them, not for some super high and lofty ideal or patriotism. It was their brother next to them. Some of my inspirations around me here in Afghanistan are the guys that I work with. Many of these enlisted medics and nurses come from very humble beginnings, poor families and hard lives. This is reflected at times in their behavior and language. But their passion and commitment is reflected in their work. Just yesterday, the local contingent of Afghan Army was smoking right next to their ammo supply point, which caught fire and promptly exploded. This yielded our first true mass casualty event, where there are multiple severely wounded arriving all at the same time. This requires a significant amount of coordination, communication and trust in our nurses and medics. 11 patients, 4 major operations and 8 hours later, the dust settled and all of my team performed remarkably. All of these guys have so much potential and I love hearing about their aspirations and plans for their future. It gives me hope for them and their families to leave behind the worlds that they came from.

The other group of "Brothers" that inspire me here in Afghanistan are the guys in my serviceman's group. I can't think of a better bunch of guys. This week, Staff Sergeant Hancock of Springville Utah is going home on R&R to be with his wife at the birth of their third child. It makes me choke up when I think of this faithful soldier, going home to his wife and family for 2 weeks. To see his little baby, then leave them behind so he can answer the call of his nation. SPC Bennett was married just before being deployed. While most newly weds are embarking into the lone and dreary world together, they are trying to get to know each other over the phone and through letters. SSG Chiu is a quiet, and very intelligent Non-Commissioned Officer who is an electrical engineer by training. He too has left a family to come here to this place, which redefines "lone and dreary world". They are all committed to building this place into a nation. That would mean that we can come home. 1st Lieutenant Andy Stockhoff is our group leader. Her served his mission in Alabama and is the project engineer for the biggest project, probably in the entire theater. He is orchestrating the construction of a massive runway that can handle large Air Force cargo planes, allowing us to project our military power throughout this region. All of these guys are amazingly faithful and just being around them make me a better person.

If this war were left into the hands of people like these guys, there is no victory that would escape us.

Sydney, my oldest daughter inspired me this week. She wants to play parks and rec basketball! The big challenge is that it is on a co-ed team. She went to the skills assessment session yesterday and according to Sarah did quite well. She was one of three girls there. The good thing is that she is taller than most of the boys and is pretty athletic. She was really nervous, but pushed through and showed her courage.

Inspiration is all around us, we just have to look for it. Inspiration comes through our interpretation of people, their actions, reactions and how they handle the daily struggles of life. I have learned over my few short years that everyone has a story and as we interact the web of our lives in spun and meshed together such that if we will allow it, and look for it, we can be inspired at every turn.

Before closing, let me discuss the pictures briefly. The top picture is of me and one of my ICU nurses, SPC Garcia. The patient was operated on earlier that day and after the OR wasn't doing so hot. His blood oxygen saturation was low and his heart rate up. We are in a pretty austere environment here and don't have many of the nice adjuncts that we normally do in the US. We rigged up a mask to a ventilator to basically act as a bi-pap mask (like what people with bad sleep apnea have) to forcefully blow oxygen into his lungs, opening up collapsed segments. This worked like a charm and fixed him right up. Victory, one ABG at a time!

The second picture to me tells a story of American ingenuity. American by the flag we hung up in our OR, and ingenuity by the Dewalt power drill on the surgical field. Again, we are in an austere environment and don't have much to work with. We needed to stabilize a bad fracture with long wires that would have taken forever to get in by a manual hand drill. We kept the wires sterile but used to power drill to make our efforts more efficient and in the end saved us a lot of time and energy.

Inspiration...and necessity... the mothers of invention. Below is just a cool video! Enjoy!

Updates...

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Finding things to write about are actually pretty difficult. Some days there really doesn't seem to be anything interesting at all to share, let alone anything that I think others would find value in. It is probably because those things have become mundane and common place to me. There are times that I am convinced that I am serving some prison sentence for a crime committed by my evil twin.

Yesterday was Halloween, yes here in Afghanistan as well. My wife and kids thought it would be a fun idea to send me a whole lot of candy and an pinata! Oh were they right! I packed as much candy as I possibly could into that thing. The picture above is of the pinata wearing a mullet wig (business up front and party in the rear!). I took some video with my camera of the guys taking their aggressions out on the poor thing. Ironically enough, it was the chaplain that broke it open! Some cried foul and insisted that he had help from above. We have an abundance of candy right now. Too much in fact. (I have already lost 20lbs during this deployment.) After the pinata we made a campfire and roasted marshmallows and made smores. I highly recommend the reese's peanut butter cup smore. Or so I have been told.

Little things like that go a long way to building morale. What makes a team come together and turns a group of people into a cohesive unit is really the guy next to you. How each person sees themself as a person of worth, then understanding how they fit into the team and into the "big picture". Doing this allows them to participate in the processes that are being undertaken. I think this applies to a Forward Surgical Team, and business or even to the plan of salvation.

Church was a lot of fun tonight. It is a fun group of guys. I hung out for a while after church talking with the guys who comprise the Civil Affairs (CA) unit here at our FOB. They are all from a reserve unit in Utah and two of the three have been deployed previously. They are helping me get a program, that I wrote about in a previous entry, off the ground. Essentially, we want to bring in physicians, they don't even have to be surgeons, and train them to do surgery. They bring in the patients to us for evaluation, we teach them how to evaluate and diagnose, and how to do the operations. We will be starting out with small stuff like hernias, appendectomies, lumps and bumps. We would also like to teach them about anesthesia and post operative care. We are working through these guys because they are just as excited about it as we are. We currently have little to no presence in the local communities. They send us their disasters to try to fix. We really want to teach them and empower them to take care of their own people.

The CA guys were sharing some frustrations about how the war is being portrayed in the media. This past week they delivered enough cold weather clothes to a local womens' shelter to take care of the widows here in the area for the next 5 winters! (By the way, it gets really cold here.) These guys go out and find projects to help the locals, they are helping teach the local governments how to run and function as a cohesive body. I decided that if I wasn't here as a surgeon, I would love to work as a civil affairs officer. They seem to be doing so much good and are the true players in a counter insurgency.

The ideas of central government are foreign to these people, let alone self determination and democracy. I think a lot about what I learned regarding governance during my junior and senior years of high school. The basic concept of government is that we give up rights and freedoms in return for a system of order. To convince these people that they should look after their neighbor and that the government is there to serve the people and not themselves is completely alien. Though sometimes I wonder if our own leaders have not forgotten this as well.

The second picture is of me and my partners here at the 8th FST. We are waiting for a trauma to arrive and I had just gotten of the treadmill at the gym. These are great guys and I really enjoy working with them. The one next to me is Dr Brian Helsel, and the one in the blue cap is Dr Matt Hueman (Hee-man).

Hearts and Minds...

The war that we are fighting here in Afghanistan is one of hearts and minds, plain and simple. The best example that I can find of this concept is in the Book of Mormon, when the Gadianton Robbers are waging war against the Nephites and the Lamanites. The Lamanites as a people refuse to allow them refuge and a safe harbor from which to run their operations. Compared to the Nephites, who would give them a base from which to operate and would tolerate their actions.

It is a very similar situation here in Afghanistan. The people are not quite sure who is going to win this war, and frankly are not sure whose side they should support, wanting to be on the side of the eventual winner. Trying to convince the locals that we have the most to offer in some respects is like trying to convince the Nephites that they don't want to allow the Gadianton Robbers to operate amongst them.

The picture I posted is me, my partner, a translator (woman), a patient and his brother. This poor guy was a worker on the FOB who decided that it was a good idea to take a nap underneath a forklift. Yes, I know we can put him up for a Darwin Award for that lack of insight and judgment. He came to us after the forklift ran over his pelvis and hip. Fracturing his pelvis, upper part of this femur, lacerating his urethra (OUCH!), and sustaining other "associated lacerations". We fixed up his "associated lacerations", placed a tube through his anterior abdominal wall into his bladder, and traction on his leg. The picture was after he came back to us from Bagram where they fixed his femur. He was more grateful for us fixing his "associated lacerations" than for fixing his femur.

The reason why I tell his story is not to just show a fun picture and tell stories. He came back to us at the same time as another man who we treated after he cut his wrist with a circular saw. Lacerating tendons, nerves and arteries. The man who cut his wrist wanted us to give him money, was mad because he didn't have a ride home and generally ungrateful for us saving his hand and livelihood. The brother (dude in the Johns Hopkins T-shirt) without thinking twice gave him a handful of money so he could get a ride home. I was really impressed and humbled by the generosity of this man. These people are dirt farmers with very little, yet he was willing to help someone he barely even knew. His charity to a stranger serves as an example to me, one which I don't ever want to forget. The next time some stranger comes asking me for money, I will remember this guy and his charity. Charity is the pure love of Christ. Whether or not you believe in Christ, it comes from the same source.

I show this picture to remind myself and to show anyone who reads this that though there may be vast differences in our cultures we are all human beings. Because we are all human beings, we all have some innate similarities from which we can build relationships.

First, we are all children of God. The scriptures teach us that we are all created in his image and we know that He sent his Son so that all of his children can be made free from the bondage of death and sin. They may be Muslim and have no belief in Christ. That doesn't mean that God doesn't love them any less than I. I don't know by what province I was born the United States and raised in a family that taught me of God and Jesus Christ. I do know that God loves these people and will provide a way for them to learn of Christ and have the opportunity to accept him as their Savior. We all share the light of Christ (reference the above story).

I frequently find myself talking with the translators (many of which are American Afghani's) about the similarities between theirs' and mine religious beliefs. They are really impressed when I tell them that I have never drank alcohol, smoked tobacco or drink coffee or tea. That usually comes up when we are offered to have tea with the local shop keepers. During Ramadan, when they were all fasting, I explained how I would fast on the first Sabbath of every month. I fasted with them on fast Sunday in September. Our similarities run deep, and by capitalizing on similarities to build relationships of trust, this is how to wage counter insurgency.

Second, we all share the same emotions of love, family and community. Here, family is everything. I see fathers and mothers drive their children hours to come to follow up appointments. I have witnessed the tears of fathers and mothers, crying for the loss of their little ones. We have to tap into our common beliefs and experiences to win their hearts and minds. I know what it feels like to love my children. If you take care of me, I thank you. Take care of my children and I will fight and die for you. These people view their children as their future and their posterity as their greatest wealth.

The local villages around us are generally pro-Taliban. They are Pashtuns and share tribal roots with the Taliban. Up until now we have had little interaction with the locals as far as medical humanitarian operations are concerned. The local hospital will send us the patients that they cannot take care of, but there is little that we are doing to help them out. As it turns out, in my church serviceman's group are three reservists from Utah. All three comprise the Civil Affairs unit for this AO (Area of Operations). I approached them with the idea of setting up a physician mentorship program and they set up a meeting with my team and the S9 (brigade guy in charge of civil affairs). Priesthood in action! We pitched him our idea: teaching surgery, anesthesia and post operative nursing care to the local physicians. Helping them become self sustaining in their medical care in the local area. The S9 was thrilled about it and according to my sources, spent the entire day telling everyone about our meeting. There is a meeting in the beginning of November with the provincial governor and the NGO (Non-Government Organization, non-profit group) who helps administer and run the local health clinics, to sell them the idea and get things started. There are a few speed bumps: our command won't let me go to the meeting because they don't want to put anyone at risk, they are worried about where the money will come from to support the increase patient load. Their short sightedness is absolutely infuriating. These are not insurmountable obstacles and will be surmounted!

Ammon lead a massive counter insurgency effort by employing these principles: charity and service. Capitalizing on the common ground between the Nephites and Lamanites, thousands of potential enemies became allies and most importantly were brought to a knowledge of their Savior. So can we effect change, one heart at a time.


(BTW, there is a bakery not 100 yards from my tent and the baker is a local from a nearby village. If you have clothes or other items that would like to send I can give them to him and he will distribute them to local people. He is a very kind man and has a good heart.) If you need my address:
MAJ NEIL MCMULLIN
8th FORWARD SURGICAL TEAM
FOB SHANK, AFGHANISTAN
APO, AE 09364

What I Did Today...

I would like to say that there was some major, cool operation today but that just isn't the case. I wanted to write a brief blog today about the joy and appreciation of something different.

As stated before, everyday here at Shank is like Ground Hog's Day. The only thing that breaks up the monotony are traumas and for better or for worse, it has been real slow over the past few days. I expect that it will pick up again as the Talib's give one last push before the passes to Pakistan snow over.

The one project that I am working on right now is to set up a physician mentorship program with the local physicians. This area doesn't have a hospital per se, and doubt that there are any real surgeons running around. What we want to do is set it up so that local physicians can come to our hospital (aka Tent), bring their patients, and we teach them how to do minor surgical procedures. Procedures like: hernia repairs, mass excisions, and appendectomies. Once the surgery is done, we want to work with their nurses to improve post operative care and assisting them in taking care of their patients. What has happened in other areas, the local physicians get angry at the American doctors because they swoop in and start fixing all of the locals. Problem is, that leaves the Afghani physicians without any source of income. So the jist of our plan is to help support the local physicians with additional training and surgical support. We'll see how this turns out. I am pretty excited about it.

Back to the original discussion. Our FOB, for a long time has straddled the major highway that runs from southeastern Afghanistan-Pakistan border up to Kabul and to the north. Many of you in Houston would expect this to look like I-10, but you are incorrect. It looks much more like Welborn Road connecting Bryan College Station to Milican. Small, two lane road without a dividing stripe. (That is what I am showing in the one picture of the road.) In an effort to control this road, our FOB was built on two sides of the road. That started to cause some problems with movement back and forth between the sides of the FOB (East and West for lack of better terms.) So we built a bypass road around the FOB and in the last week connected the FOB, allowing free movement between the east and west sides. This was like going to Disneyland! They have a smoothie shop / barber shop where you can enjoy a nice cold smoothie and get your haircut by someone of uncertain gender attraction issues. (To put it nicely.) Today, we went over and I just got my peach smoothie and this Philippino guy (and I use that term loosely) started singing karaoke to some Michael Jackson song. He was just butchering it, so I was forced into going to the next room to get my haircut, just so I wouldn't start laughing out loud. I thought they only did that stuff in the movies!

There is such a thrill of just seeing something new, even if it is the exact same stuff you can see no further than 100 yards from my tent. I was pretty ticked off though when I walked through the Battalion Aid Station on the West side. This was an actual building with tile floors and two trauma bays. Currently occupied by soldiers sleeping. I couldn't help but sit there and think about the structure that we work in and the stuff we do, when from my perspective their sick call clinic looks like the Taj Ma Hall. (I posted a picture of our operating room. We operate on the stretcher that the patient comes in on, and yes, that is an air conditioning duct that runs right down the middle of the room right over the over table.)

The last picture is of me going out on a tour of a MRAP (Mine Resistant Vehicle). We drove all over the FOB and (staying inside the wire) went out where the FOB is nothing more than desert sand. The driver was concerned that he didn't have a mounted weapon on top. I told him not to sweat it because I had my M9 and 45 rounds of 9mm. That was a lot of fun. They are going to hook me up when they go to the range and let me fire some of the cool mounted weapons. (More pictures to follow!)

When I get home here in a few months, I better stay away from Walmart because I am going to want to touch everything in that store.

Where I live and play...

Brian asked to talk about where we live. The best way to describe my little community is to call it a mining town. Where instead of scruffy miners, there are clean cut young men and women carrying fully automatic weapons. Mostly we are all in tents, called GP Mediums (General Purpose). Some of the tents have been covered with this foam stuff that provides insulation from weather and noise. It makes those tents look like big, tan, melted marshmallows. The streets are either dirt roads, which turn into mud pits in the winter or are covered with big rocks. Our compound is surrounded by 14' tall barriers called "Hesco's". Why they are called Hescos, I have no idea. All of the tents are built up on wood platforms, we have electricity and A/C or heaters. Funny thing is that the A/C is super cold and the heater is super hot, so trying to find a balance is really tough. Especially when the control box to the unit is in the nurses tent. This makes it so that we have to always be nice or they can freeze us or cook us!

I am trying to up load a picture of the front of our FST tent. This is a tent where we do all of our evaluations, resuscitations, surgeries and use the back 3rd as an ICU/PACU area. We are fortunate to have a good working relationship with the medical company and we work and play together a lot. As our unit is not part of the 10th Mountain Division (the guys who currently run the base), we are often forgotten about when it comes to upgrading our areas. The "fixed" structures on the FOB are all made out of 1" plywood, giving the place a real "old west" feel to it. The current plan that is underway is to build a run way that will be able to bring in lots of supplies and build up a large base here. That is a long, long way away. However, every time we ask the current land lords for any kind of upgrade we are met with, "Why? When the runway is built you will be moved down there anyway."

For the time being I am working on just being content with what we have, though primitive as it may be. It could always be worse! We could have split our FST sending half of the people to the Iranian border to support the Spanish and Italians in the middle of nowhere. No thanks!

The other picture was taken from atop a guard tower that overlooks the dust off landing zone, our FST is off behind the T-walls. All of the other tents are part of the tent city, somewhere in there is mine. Also the bathrooms (essentially a port-a-potty with make-up), shower facilities about a 200 yard walk (going to be interesting trek in the winter).

You can also see that our FOB is surrounded by villages which actually appear to be very green and full of orchards. This is a part of the local area that I never get to see. I joke with Sarah all the time that all that needs to happen is for me to start making license plates and I will be serving out a 6 month sentence in prison. In fact, most prisoners get a real building to sleep in, a cable TV in their room, and except for that there are not many differences in where I am an jail! Maybe I will write my congressman and ask for a license plate stamper...

Highs and Lows

I approach writing this post with great humility and with some trepidation. I am not a very talented writer and sometimes it is really hard to write how I feel. There are multiple purposes of this blog: 1) to communicate the extraordinary experiences that I am having with my family, 2) as a personal journal, and 3) to share the lessons that I am learning with whom ever wants to read about them. Some of these experiences my seem very personal. I struggle with sharing them but it is frequently therapeutic for me. Also, I don't want to forget and maybe they will serve to help someone else.

I find that more often than not, I am listening to my sister's music while I am writing. Her music inspires me and she is one of my many heros. If you, my reader, has never had the opportunity to listen to her music, you should check her out on Facebook and see what you are missing.

The past 48 hours have encompassed some of the lowest moments and the highest highs of my deployment. I share these experiences so that you can see the contrast and see what I have experienced and hopefully draw some lessons of your own.

It began Thursday morning with casualties arriving around 0430, after a brief interlude for lunch (that was considerate of the Taliban), there was a particular soldier who arrived to my team in extremis after sustaining an extremely severe injury. (You can tell how sick they are by how hard the helicopter lands. They nearly broke their landing gear.) He arrived and coded in the ATLS area (Advanced Trauma Life Support), we were able to get a heart beat back and after consultation with our neurosurgeon in Bagram we decided that his only chance was to aerovac him to Bagram where he would need to undergo massive brain surgery. At this point his chances of survival were slim, but we loaded him on a helicopter in a desperate attempt to save him. Due to his tenuous condition, I and my CRNA (anesthesiologist) flew with him. Three minutes into the 25 minute flight, his heart stopped again, we coded him again. I did chest compressions for the next 22 minutes until arriving at the ER in Bagram where he was pronounced dead. I resolved that I was not going to call him during the flight, and we would get him to Bagram. We did everything we could do, it just wasn't enough.

Upon return to Shank, I just didn't want to talk to anyone. I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts and my own prayers. I think of the mother, the father, and wife and children who lost their Dad. I could only pray that the Lord would let this guy know that I did everything I could. I reaffirmed my testimony that our Lord and Savior descended below all things, so that he would know how to succor his children in need. It wasn't the soldier who needed his aid, but it was the physician who needed healing at that moment.

I finally got to bed around midnight and an hour later we started taking casualties again. We were busy all night and I was able to get back to sleep around 0600. After a few hours of sleep, we were told that there were more casualties. There were three soldiers coming in, all with gun shot wounds. One was quickly deteriorating and the other two appeared stable. My partners took the severely wounded one while I would take care of the other two. Of my two, one was stable and the other had a nasty femur fracture.

After looking at their x-rays, I ran into a chaplain. The chaplain asked me if I was Major McMullin? "Yeah", I replied. "Are you a Mormon Elder?", he asked. "Uh, yeah". He proceeded to tell me that one of the soldiers under my care was a Mormon and wanted a priesthood blessing from a Mormon Elder. It was the one who was minimally injured. However, he was the one who watched two of his buddies die and performed life saving care for the one soldier now in the operating room. This soldier had been stationed at a remote location and was the only Mormon on his post. So there in the middle of the ICU and amidst the chaos, I was able to give my patient a priesthood blessing. It was a very spiritual experience. After the dust and chaos settled down a bit, the local serviceman's group leader and I were able to administer the sacrament to him. I will never forget how grateful he was to get that priesthood blessing, and how grateful I was that I was worthy to place my hands on this faithful brother's head and pronounce a blessing from his Father in Heaven upon him. I rededicated myself to always living worthily to be able at a moments notice, be an instrument in the hand's of the Lord to do bless his children.

That evening as I sat by his bedside, we talked about Captain Moroni from the Book of Mormon. Who led his people during a time of war against the Lamanites. How was it that they were able to maintain their spirituality during that time of strife? To such a degree that Mormon was able to decree that "there never was a happier time among the people of Nephi..." (Alma 50:23). We talked about Moroni (the son of Mormon) who witness the destruction of his people. Many times we overlook that this likely included brothers, sisters, maybe a spouse and children. Yet, he was able to carry on and perform the important work that the Lord had for him. The Book of Mormon was written by warriors.

This experience was one of the highs of the past several weeks, and it really helped me overcome the sadness from the previous night to be able to serve this brother. (There is your hint to the answer for my previous question.) I am so grateful for this opportunity.

Love thine enemy....

I am not sure about adding another post this soon after the last one just because novelty and thoughts worthy of sharing come few and far between here in "FOBistan". Yet, after a recent experience I wanted to get it down "on paper" so to speak while the memories and thoughts are still fresh in my mind. It may be a while before I write again. I have to take it when I can though.

This experience is in stark contrast to the post previously entitled "A Hero's Salute". Yesterday we had an EPW (Enemy Prisoner of War) casualty come into the FST. Apparently he and two buddies were hastily planting an IED ahead of a route clearance patrol. Hastily was the operative term and they blew themselves up. They brought all three, my patient (still alive, barely), one of this buddies (in bits and pieces) and a skull of the third to which they could not find any associated body.

Needless to say, this patient was in distress with massive facial trauma. I performed an emergent surgical airway and we were able to stabilize him. In the assessment of a trauma patient's mental status we use what is called a GCS (Glasgow Coma Scale). You award points for various responses and activities performed by the patient. Nothing, more than following commands, opening their eyes and speaking. Normal is 15 and anything below an 8 is considered severe head trauma. This patient had a GCS of 4 (very low with very poor prognosis). X-rays showed intracranial fragments and given his overall burden of trauma his prognosis was abysmal at best, even under ideal circumstances at a level 1 trauma center in America. We called our command to get their input and given his massive trauma burden and injuries to withdraw care.

Side note: This was the guy who planted the IED who killed the soldiers in my previous post.

As my partner and I discussed this plan of action, we confirmed with each other that his status as an enemy played absolutely no role in our decision. We gathered our team together to make sure no one had any other ideas or objections. I emphasized to them that in no way, shape or form was his EPW status having any bearing on the decision. After everyone was able to voice their opinions, we gave the patient pain medication and sedative to keep him comfortable and pain free, removed his endotracheal tube and allowed nature to take it's course.

I experienced many emotions that day. The soldiers sent with the patient lost friends to this man's hands and were very eager and vocal about their wishes for him. Yet, in my heart, I had to make sure that this decision was done from a medical and humane standpoint, not with the least bit of malice towards this man. I was very vocal and adamant about him getting adequate sedation and pain control, something he would not afford those other soldiers. I looked at what was left of his face and body and had to see him as a child of God, a brother that at one point in the pre-existence decided to follow the plan of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I don't know what circumstance or how he ended up on the other side of the world from me, being raised in a culture so polar opposite as mine. Yet beneath the mutilated flesh was another brother. Death is the great equalizer and the ultimate final common pathway of all flesh.

I don't mourn this man's death. There was no hero's salute or grand fair well. I did say a prayer, knowing that the Lord would judge him in righteousness and mercy. Who knows when my time comes, one day, I may meet this man and call him brother.

Defining Moments...

As many of you know, I am very fresh out of residency. In the grand scheme of things I am a very junior surgeon with good training, but surgery is a contact sport where experience is key. The military planners, in their infinite wisdom decided to take the other general surgeon stationed with me and move him, temporarily to another FOB (Forward Operations Base). The move leave me here at one of the busiest FSTs (Forward Surgical Team) in country, all alone. Being, literally, the only person within 100 miles who can do my job, save someone's life.

Last Tuesday was probably the defining moment in my surgical career. This was the moment that I always knew would come. I would be all alone, and have people's lives in my hands. Where there is no senior staff around to call for help. Either I did the job or the person dies, simples as that.

It started off with a ANA (Afghan National Army) soldier who was hit by an IED and came in confused and combative, his blood pressure was good but his heart rate was too high. We intubated him to control his airway and keep him from fighting us. All of his injuries appeared superficial, but I suspected a head injury and his heart rate was still too high. I put him in the ICU to watch him because more patients were coming.

The next wave of patients came with 3 US soldiers after being hit with an IED. Their MRAP (Mine Resistant Armored Personal Carrier) was hit by an IED and rolled over down an embankment. Two of the three were fine and just need CT scans of their heads. The third though was in dire straits. On ultra sound he had blood in his abdomen and his blood pressure was real low. We gave him some volume and rushed him to the next room, the operating room. After opening his abdomen, there was a lot of blood. He cracked his spleen in half, had a liver laceration, fractured pelvis and dislocated hip. I took his spleen out and packed his abdomen with sponges to provide pressure to stop the bleeding in his liver and pelvis. Just about this time the first guy, previously described drops his blood pressure, pushing my hand to take him to the operating room. I take my current patient on the table, put a vacuum dressing on his abdomen, essentially leaving him open and intubated to the ICU to get him warmed and resuscitated.

I rush the first guy from the ICU to the OR and open his abdomen where I find another large liver laceration and small hematomas around the blood supple to his bowel. These were not getting any bigger so I decide to leave them alone. Just then, I hear a rattling "WHAM" outside the tent. The "incoming fire" sirens going off! Some where, someone fired a 107mm rocket that landed about 50 yards from our FST tent, thankfully on the other side of a barrier. I send my assistant to the bunker and my CRNA, tech and I plow a head. We pack his abdomen open and as we are getting him off the table we get reports of wounded from the rocket attack.

Two patients, each peppered with fragment wounds along their legs and arms. One guy is fine, the other guy is alert and awake, but he has a tense lower left leg and no pulse in his foot. I take him to the OR to release the hematoma in his calf, thinking that it may be compressing his arteries to the leg. After the release, still no flow to the foot. No I am thinking, arterial injury. As I prep to do and angiogram, he starts squirting blood from the frag hole. Game on! I expose the above knee popliteal artery to get proximal control and stop the bleeding, then get into the injury and sure enough the below knee popliteal artery has a big side wall injury. I ligate the injured and bleeding vein and place an intra-luminal shunt (kind of like a silicone straw) in the injured artery to keep blood flowing to the leg and stop the bleeding.

WOW! What a day. I sent all three patients to Bagram for further care, and from what I have been told, all three are doing very well. I went to sleep that night with a big smile on my face. This is what I have spent the last 10 years of my life, culminating to this point. I said many prayers during those surgeries that day, and all were answered.

Groundhogs Day...

Back in 1993, Bill Murray starred in a film called Groundhogs Day. As a big city weatherman sent to cover the annual Groundhog Day event in Punxsutawney, he enters a twilight zone where he finds himself forced to repeat the same day over and over again. He passes though several phases of pursuits, culminating in the kidnapping of Punxsutawney Phil (the groundhog), and proceeding to one of my cinematic scenes. Bill Murray has the groundhog driving his car, saying "Don't drive angry Phil, don't drive angry" and plunging over a cliff in a vain attempt to end his life. Waking up the next morning to the same day again, he begins to examine his priorities in life.

Much like Bill Murray, minus the suicidal pursuits, I feel like I am caught in some grand twilight zone where every day is the same. "Hmmmm, which clothes will I wear today? The green or....the green. I will go with the green!" In between trauma patients, I try to fill the rest of the day with some sort of nobel pursuit. I try to read, study and exercise. At times I am hoping for a trauma just to make the day go by a little bit faster.

This exercise in repetition has allowed me the opportunity to reexamine my own priorities in life. I have spent that last several years running around with my hair on fire. Taking care of patients and keeping the staff general surgeons happy. Now, I have nothing but time on my hands. In my previous existence, my time was very valuable to me. What I did with it was not always a reflection of this value. I would exercise, read books, play video games, play with the kids, spend time with my wife. Sometimes in that order.

Now that I have nothing but time on my hands, I realize that time is truly my greatest commodity. Here on the FOB, I can play video games, exercise more than ever before, read books aplenty and surf the internet. Everything that I could do at home, that seemed so important at that time, I can do here in the middle of the moon, Afghanistan. With all this time, I can't do what is most desirable, spending time with my wife and children.

More than anything I want to curl up on my overstuffed leather sofa with Sarah and watch one of her "bonnet" films. She humors me watching Ultimate Fighter Championship with me. I want to play basketball with Zachary, take Sydney out to see what clothes she likes, watch Ainsley walk in awe through a Build-a-Bear store, and put puzzles together with Audrey. But while I am here stuck in my own Groundhog's Day, life is passing along. I realized that Sydney doesn't have many more years at home with us and Ainsley is quickly approaching that same stage.

This deployment has made me realize that nothing can compensate me for lost time. What are our diversions that make us waste our time? It is usually something that we seem to not be able to function without. I realize that I can always earn more money, save more and buy more. The one thing that we cannot buy is more time! Where do you spend your time?

A Hero's Salute

Whenever an American soldier dies in combat, they are sent home from their duty station with a hero's salute. All the medical personnel line up and send them off, saluting their great and final sacrifice. Tonight we sent off two of such heros.

This was one of the single most surreal moments in my deployment to this date. Imagine a moonless night, in an area where there is no ambient light. You can see stars that you never could have imagined that existed. The Milky Way Galaxy stretching from one horizon to the other. All of the soldiers are lined up shoulder to shoulder forming a corridor from were the fallen lie, to the helicopter pad. The guards who will carry the bodies turn on their red headlights and look like cyclopes with a single red eye. It is so black that you can only see faint shadows of the person next to you. From just over the wall, a loud cannon report makes you jump, and you are glad that the darkness covered your uneasiness. The cannon shot is followed by a hollow "whump" as the round explodes into a brilliant yellow flare casting a candle light glow on the company of soldiers. The flare like the lives' of the fallen soldiers slowly dances to the ground and goes out, leaving everyone in darkness. The guards carry the flag draped bodies to the helicopters and with a final salute they are carried away to their friends and families for their final resting.

The chaplain spoke a few words afterwards, but I could tell he wasn't the best orator or the most observant of fellows.

Had he seen what I saw there were many symbols of man and the eternal nature of man's soul. Looking up in the night sky seeing so many stars, testifies to the eternal grandeur of our spirits. Our natural lives are like the cannon shot and flare, burning brightly but for a few moments, only to eventually return to the dark.

This is the second of such ceremonies that I have seen and I hate it all the same. Tonight a wife, a mother, and children will learn that their love one will never be coming home from this barren wilderness. There will be flowers, eulogies, speeches, flags and rallies, but in the end life will have to go on for these people. It makes me grateful for my wife and children. It makes me want to hug my children tighter, kiss my wife longer and it makes me value the greatest commodity we have, time. This night makes me grateful for the atonement of Jesus Christ, and the hope for a resurrection. The knowledge of the eternal nature of the spirit of mankind, and the sealing blessings of a temple marriage.

To all who happen to read this, tonight go outside and look at the stars. Spend a special moment with those you love, and render your own Hero's salute.

9/11

As anyone with a soul knows, today is September 11th. On that day we came face to face with our enemy. An enemy that was no longer hidden among the obscure shadows of caves and crawling through the dessert of some far off and forgotten country. That day sent into motion a string of events, which have, in my life culminated into where I am and doing what I am today.

On that day we were awakened to a world that was all but forgotten by the busy dot.com years. A world where "certain unalienable rights" are denied to a majority of the population. I feel that the war we fight here in Afghanistan is a just war. It may not be prosecuted in the correct manner, but a just war none the less. We are not at war with a government, or a people. We are at war with an ideology that enslaves the minds and souls on men and women. This is a war of agency and self determination. This is a war that has been fought for the millennia and will continue to be fought for many years to come.

My life is now completely engulfed in this war. It is a war the rages literally within eye sight and ear shot. It is a war with which I come face to face with on a daily basis. It is really surreal to go up on a guard tower and look over a village and be told that they want us gone. One way or the other.

I am pretty safe and secure here at my FOB. Yes, I am a "Fobbit". My job is such that I am not allowed off the FOB, only under exceptional circumstances. The way I see it, if I get hit, there is no one for 80 miles who can take care of me. So I am actually a prisoner of my own people. It makes sense to me and frankly I am at one with that. There does dwell within me the "thrill seeking McMullin gene" which craves a rush of adrenaline and wants to go outside the wire and see the war face to face.

So here I am now on the eve of a day that changed the course of my life and that of my family. I have thought today about my many ancestors who have answered their call to duty. My grandfathers who each served in the Navy in World War II. My grandfather McMullin who earned a purple heart for injuries which followed him the rest of his life. I think about my grandfather's older brother who fought in World War I, the war which would end all wars. Finally, I think about Archibald McMullin who fought with George Washington at Valley Forge. All of these men, left families and loved ones to go to the far corners of the earth in the name of protecting a gift which is most precious. A gift which at one point in history cost our Father in Heaven 1/3 of his children. That gift is agency. The ability to choose one's own destiny be that right or wrong.

Trunky...

When I went on my mission to Brazil there was a term for an Elder on his way out. They were commonly referred to as being "Trunky". This means that their bags were packed and they could do nothing but talk about how excited they were to get the heck out of dodge. In my first area we had one such Elder. It was kind of a drag on everyone, like me, who was faced with the prospects of being in country for another 23.5 months!

I have been fortunate enough to have arrived here to my destination a week or so before the other members of my team. This has allowed me to see how the current surgeons interface with the team of medics and nurses. They have a very good group of motivated people here and we have some very big shoes to fill. The downside to this is both of these guys are extremely trunky! I feel very much like a green missionary in Ponta Grossa Brazil, except the people there didn't want to kill me. They are waiting for the next MEDEVAC out of here.

There was a big dust storm today followed by rain showers all afternoon, turning everything into mud. The dust here is very fine, and has the consistency of flour. It blows everywhere and gets onto everything.

I made a set of shelves today and I am quite proud of my handiwork. Tomorrow I am going to make some adjustments, like adding clothes racks and also making a night stand. I ventured out to the artillery pits today to meet my noisy neighbors. They were very friendly and invited me back sometime to fire their artillery pieces. That sounded almost as cool as the helicopter ride here!

Adapt or Die

While I was at Bagram Air Base waiting, and waiting (did I mention that I waited) to get our here to Shank I noticed the moto of the 30th Medical Task Force was "Adapt or Die". At first passing I was not awe struck nor particularly moved by this motto. It was accompanied with a cobra twisted menacingly around a sword. Oooooh, scary a bunch of doctors.

Now that I have been out at my FOB for a couple of days now, I am learning to really appreciate that motto. There is so very much that you have to adapt to around here that you find yourself constantly having to make adjustments. Simple things like, going to the bathroom before you go to bed so you don't walk into the barbed wire surrounding the women's shower. Other more complex things are having to adapt to new surgical teams, ATLS teams and integrating yourself into the machinery without breaking it.

You have to adapt to the dust, the heat and the arid climate. Adapting to a crummy mattress (I have fashioned a pillow top mattress with my sleeping bags and an egg crate pad!) We are going to have to adapt to having four men living in cramped spaces with little privacy. Adapting to the time when I can call home and find my family awake and getting to talk with them (turns out to be around 5AM).

Seeing all of the people already here gives me great hope that I can make the changes necessary to "Adapt or Die".

The one thing that I found very refreshing was to be able to partake of the sacrament today. There were only three of us there, but to have something so familiar and base to draw upon was very comforting and refreshing.

Hitchiking Your Way Around the World

Well, I have finally arrived at my final destination! After a week and a half of literally hitchiking my way around the world I have made it. During this time I have learned the lesson that no one cares more about me than me. It I am not looking out for myself, no one else will. Let me explain...

While at CRC in Ft Benning, their main goal was to get us out of the US. They were fast and efficient. There was some "hurry up and wait" but it was really a minimum. On Friday afternoon we were bused from Ft Benning to Atlanta GA where we boarded a "Freedom Flight". This was an old DC 10 contracted to a private company. I was able to get a seat with lots of leg room, but it was a very narrow seat and the arms didn't fold up. From GA we flew to Shannon, Ireland where we stopped over for 6 hours. I was able to get a nap and renewed the age old debate, "If you just stop over in the airport, can you really count it as having visited that country?"

From Ireland we flew to Kuwait International Airport. We were unloaded in a secure part of the airport and hearded onto hot smelly buses. Side note: Kuwait at night has 100% humidity and is about 95 degrees. We waited around for about 2 hours and were escorted by the Kuwaiti military to the base Ali Al Salem. It is now about 2 AM and we are hot, tired and hungry.

At Kuwait there are liasons who are supposed to help us get to our final destination. The Afghanistan liasons, I found less than helpful. In Kuwait we were put in a tent with about 12 other officers where we would wait for a space available flight to Bagram. Space "A" flights to Bagram were few and far between. Guys comming back to theatre from R&R have top priority and following them it is just a scramble for seats. I befriended a LT Colonel who was able to finagle his way onto a cargo flight to Bagram and he gave me his reserved seat on the evening flight. Understand that I have been in Kuwait now for nearly 3 days. (Kuwait during the daytime is like living in a convection oven. It is absoluely the hottest place I have ever been. At night it is like living in a sauna.) Back to the story... So I show up for the flight that evening and my friend is still there. Apparently, his flight broke down on the runway and he needed his reserved seat back. My fall back plan was to fly out to Kandahar and then to Bagram. As I am on the phone with the terminal in Kandahar getting an idea of the flight schedule to Bagram, my friend grabs me and tells me that due to my pathetic begging and pestering, they are putting us on a flight leaving in 15 minutes! I grabbed my bags, and off I went.

We leave Kuwait and get about 1.5 hours into the flight and are informed that we are diverting to Qatar due to plane problems. We arrive in Qatar where we are taking to a tent and sit for about 4 hours while they fix the plane. Once back on the plane, we are informed that the flight has been re-routed to Manus (Manus is a US installation in Kajikstan, you have to fly over Bagram to get there!) We arrive in Manus and sit around for another couple of hours and finally make it to Bagram.

In Bagram, I am bunked up in a janitorial closet converted to transient quarters. I am not complaining because I could have been put in the boiler room or the electrical closet. Really, I am not joking! I sit around Bagram for a couple of days and catch a dustoff to FOB Shank!

FOB Shank is the equivalent of a spralling mining community. Nothing but tents, wood decks, main street stores and gyms. Except here all of the residents are carry machine guns and riding around in huge armoured vehicles. The climate here is very dry, dusty but actually crisp and cool in the morning.

Well, the adventure has really begun.

The Trip...

After a week of being cooped up at Ft Benning we left on Friday and traveled to the Atlanta airport where we were shuffled onto a contract plane for the long flight. There were a couple of things that I noted: The plane we were flying was older than I was, and people in the day these were built must have been much smaller. From Atlanta we flew up to Shannon, Ireland for a refuel stop. I initially thought it was because of the hurricane in the Atlantic Ocean. Apparently this is a common stop off for these flights. My room mate and I debated whether or not just stopping off in the airport constitutes actually visiting that country. My vote was "no" because you have done nothing to actually experience the place. You have to at least get the stamp in the passport. Eating at a "fish-n-chips" tourist trap and buying a lepperchaun keychain, IMO does not constitute visiting Ireland.

The flight from Ireland to Kuwait was uneventfully boring, long, painful and I swear I have a decubitis ulcer on my thigh from where my tail end was wedged into the seat. I really could not get comfortable, and even Ambien aided sleep was wishful thinking.

Upon arrival at Kuwait we were sequestered in a secure portion of the airport and transported on buses to another staging area. This is where I was first introduced to the oppressive humidity of Kuwait. For the next 4 hours we proceeded to wait, wait, wait, unload bags, and wait. The one coup de gras of the night was that while everyone else was waiting (because that is what you do in the Army) another couple of doctors and I went to the Afghanistan liason tent and were the first ones to sign for the earliest flight out of Kuwait to Afghanistan. This flight quickly filled up and if not, I would be here in the bowels of hell for another 24 hours, waiting.

Well, I have been at CRC (Conus Replacement Center) for about 5 days and it has been interesting. Well, not that interesting. This is a short week long processing course where the Army double checks to make sure that everyone is ready to deploy. Ready medically (shots, dental exams, etc.), equipment (they issue an amazing amount of equipment, and it is actually less than they used to), and weapons. Tomorrow we will go and qualify with our 9mm pistols.

We were issues our body armor yesterday. This vest weighs a fair amount but is the one thing that I don't want to go into theatre without. Today we had a IED (Improvised Explosive Device) training session. They aren't trying to make us into IED experts but to give us some familiarization with them.

Interestingly enough, there are actually more civilian contractor here than military personnel. They vary from highly specialized technicians and consultants to shop clerks. Overall, it has been a pretty positive experience here. There is only so much that one can do to make, "Hurry up and wait" tolerable. They have been doing it for quite some time here so it functions as a reasonably oiled machine.

I have been busy enough that I haven't been able to think about home too much. It still doesn't seem real and I feel as if I will be going back home in the next day or two. I think it will hit me like the summer heat in Kuwait when I step off the plane into 100 degree weather at 3 in the morning. We had a great time with Mom and Dad before flying out. It is nice to know that I have so much support here at home.

Two weeks and counting to deployment. It is almost painful to see my kids everyday now and think about how much I am going to miss them. Zachary is my only boy and he is going to miss having his daddy around. I am going to miss my little man. At this point I wish that I could just go so that I can get back!

Just Starting the Blog thing...

I am going to give this blogging thing a shot while I am away. Hopefully, I will be able to keep everyone up to date about what is going on and share some stories with you.

I have titled the blog, "neilonthemoon" because all of the photos that I have seen of where I will be going all look like the moon. Why anyone would go to war over the moon, I don't know.

Right now we are just getting settled into Fort Bragg NC. We have been warmly welcomed here and I am very impressed with the friendliness of the people. The city is a lot like Bryan / College Station in size and ambience. Fort Bragg is huge! The hospital is very nice and brand new. It is kind of crazy to have to in process, running around like a chicken with it's head cut off and turn right around and out process for deployment.

These next couple of weeks are building up to my leaving to CRC, Conus Replacement Center, at Fort Benning GA. I will be there for about a week where we will be herded around like cattle, getting shots, equipment and making sure all of the T's are dotted and I's are crossed for our deployment. From there I will be flown out to Kuwait. After Kuwait, I will essentially be hitchhiking my way to a large FOB (Forward Operating Base) in the southeastern part of Afghanistan. I am going to forgo details right now. Many, many serivcemen have blogs about their experiences at war to keep in touch with their families and friends. The danger of these blogs are that the bad guys have internet as well and they actually look at these things to try to glean anything they can about what we are doing.