Looking back, I really had no idea what I was getting myself into when I joined the U.S. Air Force in May of 2000. I knew that my entire medical education would be paid for and that I would not have to worry about overwhelming student loans. I knew that my sense of duty to our country would be fulfilled. Other that that, the road was uncertain. 11 years later, I can now look back and see where the military took me.
Every so often someone asks me if I am happy that I joined the military or if I would do it again. These questions make me pause for a while. Why is that? Well, it is because I do not have a good answer! Maybe that answer will come in time, but for now I can only tell these folks what happened as a result of my decision to join the military. It is easy for people to see the medals and the achievements. Heck, all you have to do is look at my Department of Defense Form 214 (the old DD 214) to see exactly what my career entailed. But, those things do not tell the whole story. Not even close.
The untold story is one of disappointment and frustration. Reality is that I missed out on way too many weddings, a lot of graduations, and even several reunions. My friends and family enjoyed these events a great deal. But, my committment to the Air Force made it difficult or even impossible for me to be there. I cannot get those times back ever. That is disappointing to me. Being able to actually come to important events is just one reason that I am leaving the Air Force. I want to actually see my nieces and nephews graduate from high school. I want to go to some weddings. I would like to plan a family reunion. And, I want to be there when my sister gets her college degree!
A major area of frustration for me during my 11 years in the military has been with personal relationships. Most of my friends are married and have young children. I am happy for them. It is really great to see their kids grow up. It is fabulous to see their marriages flourish. And, it was a blast to vacation with all of my friends in 2009. We had 7 kids under the age of 5 under one roof for a week. Wow! Obviously, I mention this because I am single with no kids. This is not where I expected to be at the ripe age of 35 to say the least. It has been difficult to sustain relationships for me. A lot of this has to do with me and my shortcomings. But, I think any woman with a good head on her shoulders knows that the military lifestyle is really difficult. Few are willing and able to sign up for this. Most of my married military friends found their spouses before all the insanity of miltary service began. For me, it has not been hard to meet women. But, it sure has been hard to keep them!
I mention these trials and tribulations because they are not usually a topic of conversation. The sacrifices that military members make is usually thought of as long work days, time away from home overseas, putting one's life in danger, and sometimes making the ultimate sacrifice. All of those things are very real. But, there is much more to being in the military. When the next person asks me about whether or not to join the military, I will pause and simply say that it takes you down a different path.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Lesson #4 - Dig a Little Deeper
After you sign on the dotted line to join the military, you are basically property of the U.S. government. "They" can do anything with you. This past week one of our medics was taken from our clinic and moved to the base gate to be a military cop. She now carries a gun and is tasked with protecting our base. The increased threat level necessitated more security. In 2010, I was astounded to fine out that the group practice manager (basically a medical office manager in uniform) from our clinic in Charleston was deployed to a very dangerous base deep in Afghanistan. Why? The military found out that she speaks Polish. A polish interpreter was needed there, so there she went. I could go on and on with stories like this. It was in Afghanistan that I learned how to deal with these surprises and challenges. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, right?
Nothing could have fully prepared me for my deployment to the hospital at Bagram Air Field. I arrived on Christmas Eve 2009 and finally departed on June 28, 2010. It was the most intense 6 months of my life. There were many other medical people there working at the hospital that felt the exact same way. There was a never ending supply of wounded coming through our doors. The hospital would fill up, a plane would take a load of patients to Germany, and then the hospital would just fill up again. The work pace was insane! We were treating the worst trauma patients imaginable. The medics were giving high powered drugs in the helicopters to keep the patients alive. The nurses were working cycles of three days on and one day off, which is about twice as many hours as they normally worked back home. The radiologists worked 12 hour shifts every day for six months in a row because there was only 2 of them. The surgical subspecialists like our neurosurgeon were on call every minute of their entire deployment. The head trauma surgeon was responsible for the entire hospital 24 hours a day for six months. We worked hours like this because there was no other choice.
For me, it was a daily grind. Each day I had to see all my patients by 0630 in the morning. I learned quickly to review the daily labs while downing a large cup of coffee, so that I could be functional upon arriving on the hospital ward. By 0730 I would have already seen 5-10 complicated patients and given updates on them to the entire medical staff. It was challenging to say the least. This made my residency training look like a walk in the park. 3 of us doctors covered a 28 bed hospital ward 24/7. We all worked about 75 hours a week on average with no days off. This process went on and on through January, February, March, etc. It seemed like it would never end. I leaned on my good friend Dr. Mike Greene quite a bit. He kept me going when I was about to lose it, and I tried to do the same for him. I started blogging about my experiences shortly after arrival at Bagram. It was like therapy for me. It was totally necessary for me to process an intense experience and move on as soon as possible. There was surely another difficult situation right around the corner.
I worked every day for 5 months without a day off. That is not healthy! That is not how it is supposed to be! Oh well, that was the way it had to be. I remember constantly telling myself to step up to the plate each day. The wounded needed us to be ready at all times to give them the best medical care possible. It did not matter if it was 4 in the morning or 4 in the afternoon. The stakes were high. My Uncle Dennis, a Vietnam veteran, told me that "the troops need you". Those words echoed in my ears on many tough days. I just kept reminding myself that one day this would all end. And, I prayed A LOT! I needed strength from God. All those prayers from home definitely helped. Thank you!!! We all needed each other to make it through because we were experiencing something out of realm of normal human experience. The injuries were just so severe.
There are times in life when you simply have to put everything aside and do the job. At Bagram, we all had to focus on our job no matter what. It is amazing what we can do when we set our minds to it. "Service Before Self" is an Air Force core value. That was never more evident to me than at the hospital on Bagram Air Field. We were all asked to go above and beyond what we thought was possible. We all had to dig a little deeper until we could say that the mission was accomplished.
Nothing could have fully prepared me for my deployment to the hospital at Bagram Air Field. I arrived on Christmas Eve 2009 and finally departed on June 28, 2010. It was the most intense 6 months of my life. There were many other medical people there working at the hospital that felt the exact same way. There was a never ending supply of wounded coming through our doors. The hospital would fill up, a plane would take a load of patients to Germany, and then the hospital would just fill up again. The work pace was insane! We were treating the worst trauma patients imaginable. The medics were giving high powered drugs in the helicopters to keep the patients alive. The nurses were working cycles of three days on and one day off, which is about twice as many hours as they normally worked back home. The radiologists worked 12 hour shifts every day for six months in a row because there was only 2 of them. The surgical subspecialists like our neurosurgeon were on call every minute of their entire deployment. The head trauma surgeon was responsible for the entire hospital 24 hours a day for six months. We worked hours like this because there was no other choice.
For me, it was a daily grind. Each day I had to see all my patients by 0630 in the morning. I learned quickly to review the daily labs while downing a large cup of coffee, so that I could be functional upon arriving on the hospital ward. By 0730 I would have already seen 5-10 complicated patients and given updates on them to the entire medical staff. It was challenging to say the least. This made my residency training look like a walk in the park. 3 of us doctors covered a 28 bed hospital ward 24/7. We all worked about 75 hours a week on average with no days off. This process went on and on through January, February, March, etc. It seemed like it would never end. I leaned on my good friend Dr. Mike Greene quite a bit. He kept me going when I was about to lose it, and I tried to do the same for him. I started blogging about my experiences shortly after arrival at Bagram. It was like therapy for me. It was totally necessary for me to process an intense experience and move on as soon as possible. There was surely another difficult situation right around the corner.
I worked every day for 5 months without a day off. That is not healthy! That is not how it is supposed to be! Oh well, that was the way it had to be. I remember constantly telling myself to step up to the plate each day. The wounded needed us to be ready at all times to give them the best medical care possible. It did not matter if it was 4 in the morning or 4 in the afternoon. The stakes were high. My Uncle Dennis, a Vietnam veteran, told me that "the troops need you". Those words echoed in my ears on many tough days. I just kept reminding myself that one day this would all end. And, I prayed A LOT! I needed strength from God. All those prayers from home definitely helped. Thank you!!! We all needed each other to make it through because we were experiencing something out of realm of normal human experience. The injuries were just so severe.
There are times in life when you simply have to put everything aside and do the job. At Bagram, we all had to focus on our job no matter what. It is amazing what we can do when we set our minds to it. "Service Before Self" is an Air Force core value. That was never more evident to me than at the hospital on Bagram Air Field. We were all asked to go above and beyond what we thought was possible. We all had to dig a little deeper until we could say that the mission was accomplished.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Lesson #3 - Don't Give Up!
None of us Americans will ever forget that fateful September day when the world as we knew it changed. Since 9/11, the "War on Terror" has come at great cost to our nation and the world. This morning, I took out my dog Maddy at 0630 for her morning walk. I picked up my newspaper and noticed the face of Osama bin Laden. I nearly wept as I read the story of how he was brought to justice. It made me feel proud of my service in Afghanistan. Many of us did not believe Osama bin Laden would ever be found. And, now he is dead!
As I reflected upon this remarkable story today, I could not help but think back about my own American story. Bear with me here! I grew up in Lakewood, Ohio which is a middle class suburb of Cleveland. There was a deep sense of patriotism and duty instilled in me by my family, my teachers, and my friends. I remember vividly reciting the "Pledge of Allegiance" every day at Grant Elementary School. We held our hands over our hearts and stated, "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America." We were taught to love our country. And, my love for America grew each year. Going through high school, I remember feeling a call to serve our nation. Military service seemed like the obvious choice. However, it would not be until my mid- twenties when this would come to fruition. After all, nothing comes easy for me!
It actually took me 5 tries to join the military. Simply walking into a recruiting office, and walking out in the service was just not in the cards for me. I applied for a Reserve Officer Training Corps (ROTC) scholarship for college. The U.S. Air Force offered me a scholarship, but it was only good for a state school. I wanted to go further away from home, so I enrolled at Marquette University. Before starting college, an Army recruiter approached me about the Army Reserves. I considered this option strongly. I even went through a full physical at the Military Entrance Processing Station (MEPS) in downtown Cleveland only to abandon the whole thing when the Army offered me a position as a truck driver.
Several years later, I applied to a number of medical schools during my senior year at Marquette. Medical school is expensive, so I also explored the option of a military scholarship. The Navy actually offered me a scholarship at the time. But, I was not admitted to any medical schools. My day in the military would have to wait. After college graduation, I was a lost soul. It was painful. Once again, I turned to the military for a possible career. I decided that military intelligence would be pretty cool. The Navy had positions and yet again I applied. This was my first experience with the "hurry up and wait" process of the military. Months went by and I was working as a pizza delivery man biding my time. Eventually I could not wait any longer and took a job as a salesmen. One week later the Navy called with a position in officer candidate school (OCS). It was too late.
Fast forward to 2000. I had been accepted and enrolled in medical school in 1999. The U.S. Air Force began recruiting me for a scholarship. However, six weeks into my first semester I went on an extended leave of absence due to some personal issues. Despite this, the recruiter kept calling me. I was really surprised by this, and was honest with him about my situation. He asked me to apply for the scholarship anyway. At that point, I was not even sure I would go back to medical school. But, I forged ahead with the application. In April of 2000, I was put on the wait list for a U.S. Air Force Health Professions Scholarship (HPSP). Several weeks later, I received the good news that my name had moved up the wait list and now I was offered a scholarship. I took it. On May 16, 2000 I raised my right hand and swore to "defend the consitution against all enemies both foreign and domestic"...
Why do I tell this long story of how I entered the Air Force? What does this have to do with Osama bin Laden? Well, it took me 8 years and 5 tries to finally get a commission as an officer in the Air Force. It took our country almost 10 years to find and kill Osama bin Laden. I knew in my heart that serving our country was right for me. The world knew that bringing Osama bin Laden to justice was the right thing to do. The hardest things in life take time and perseverance. We have to be vigilant and tenacious in our quest for what is right. It is never easy. But, when you know that something is right deep down in your heart and you are not sure what to do, DON'T GIVE UP!
As I reflected upon this remarkable story today, I could not help but think back about my own American story. Bear with me here! I grew up in Lakewood, Ohio which is a middle class suburb of Cleveland. There was a deep sense of patriotism and duty instilled in me by my family, my teachers, and my friends. I remember vividly reciting the "Pledge of Allegiance" every day at Grant Elementary School. We held our hands over our hearts and stated, "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America." We were taught to love our country. And, my love for America grew each year. Going through high school, I remember feeling a call to serve our nation. Military service seemed like the obvious choice. However, it would not be until my mid- twenties when this would come to fruition. After all, nothing comes easy for me!
It actually took me 5 tries to join the military. Simply walking into a recruiting office, and walking out in the service was just not in the cards for me. I applied for a Reserve Officer Training Corps (ROTC) scholarship for college. The U.S. Air Force offered me a scholarship, but it was only good for a state school. I wanted to go further away from home, so I enrolled at Marquette University. Before starting college, an Army recruiter approached me about the Army Reserves. I considered this option strongly. I even went through a full physical at the Military Entrance Processing Station (MEPS) in downtown Cleveland only to abandon the whole thing when the Army offered me a position as a truck driver.
Several years later, I applied to a number of medical schools during my senior year at Marquette. Medical school is expensive, so I also explored the option of a military scholarship. The Navy actually offered me a scholarship at the time. But, I was not admitted to any medical schools. My day in the military would have to wait. After college graduation, I was a lost soul. It was painful. Once again, I turned to the military for a possible career. I decided that military intelligence would be pretty cool. The Navy had positions and yet again I applied. This was my first experience with the "hurry up and wait" process of the military. Months went by and I was working as a pizza delivery man biding my time. Eventually I could not wait any longer and took a job as a salesmen. One week later the Navy called with a position in officer candidate school (OCS). It was too late.
Fast forward to 2000. I had been accepted and enrolled in medical school in 1999. The U.S. Air Force began recruiting me for a scholarship. However, six weeks into my first semester I went on an extended leave of absence due to some personal issues. Despite this, the recruiter kept calling me. I was really surprised by this, and was honest with him about my situation. He asked me to apply for the scholarship anyway. At that point, I was not even sure I would go back to medical school. But, I forged ahead with the application. In April of 2000, I was put on the wait list for a U.S. Air Force Health Professions Scholarship (HPSP). Several weeks later, I received the good news that my name had moved up the wait list and now I was offered a scholarship. I took it. On May 16, 2000 I raised my right hand and swore to "defend the consitution against all enemies both foreign and domestic"...
Why do I tell this long story of how I entered the Air Force? What does this have to do with Osama bin Laden? Well, it took me 8 years and 5 tries to finally get a commission as an officer in the Air Force. It took our country almost 10 years to find and kill Osama bin Laden. I knew in my heart that serving our country was right for me. The world knew that bringing Osama bin Laden to justice was the right thing to do. The hardest things in life take time and perseverance. We have to be vigilant and tenacious in our quest for what is right. It is never easy. But, when you know that something is right deep down in your heart and you are not sure what to do, DON'T GIVE UP!
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Lesson #2 - Some Bonds Are Never Broken
I have met countless people in my 11 years in the U.S. Air Force. Some influenced me greatly. Some were quite forgettable. People often talk about how relationships are one of the most important things in life. After all, little matters more than the people in our lives. Half a world away, I learned some valuable lessons about relationships...
In 2008, I found myself in heavily armed in a combat zone on the outskirts of Kabul, Afghanistan. I was sent to the Kabul Military Training Center as a "mentor". My job was to train Afghan doctors and medics. Our mission was to perform physicals on every Afghan National Army recruit in the entire country. I decided early on to get to know the Afghans as much as I could. My parents taught me to accept all people and treat everyone with respect. This principle was crucile for me to have a successful mission in Afghanistan.
I worked closely with 6 Afghan doctors and 5 Afghan medics. Over the course of weeks to months, we all got to know one another quite a bit. We would talk about our personal lives. We would talk about the war. We would talk about religion. Almost no subject was taboo. It was refreshing. There was one doctor in particular that I became great friends with, Dr. Yama. He is about my age and has an engaging personality. He is extremely intelligent. He speaks good English which made it easy for us to talk. Yama comes from a family of 9 kids. He lives in Kabul and attended the Kabul Medical University. When I met him in 2008, he was single. Now he is married with one child. Yama is funny, articulate, compassionate, and hard working. He is one of the best people that I know in this world.
On 31 October 2008, I left the Kabul Military Training Center for the last time and began an 8 day journey back to the United States (military travel is measured in days not hours). The previous day I said goodbye to Yama. A group of children surrounded him as he walked away towards Jalalabad Road, a main artery of Kabul. Yama looked at the kids and proclaimed, "This is the future of Afghanistan." I doubted that I would ever see Yama again. We emailed several times that year but quickly lost touch with one another. Then, in the fall of 2010 Yama sent me a message stating that he was in Germany on a scholarship through the Afghan government. He was there studying German. If he learned the language well and passed many examinations, then he would get to work in a German hospital for one year of training. I was astounded. It was quite rare for any Afghan to leave their country. They have few resources and are still a third world nation. Upon hearing of Yama's good fortune to be in Germany, I vowed to visit him. This was my opportunity to see my good friend once again!
Several weeks ago, this wish became true. I travelled to Europe for a vacation along with my good friend Mona. We spent 5 days touring Bavaria (you must go there in your lifetime). Then, we rented a car and headed north to the town of Naumburg. We spent 5 hours speeding along the Autobahn which was a crazy experience. We drove through beautiful green pastures covered with scores of windmills. Eventually, we made it to Naumburg and pulled up to the school that Yama was now calling home. We spotted Yama waiting for us in front of his school. It was awesome to see him again. He invited us in, showed us around the school, and then invited us into his living quarters. True to the wonderful hospitality I had experienced from Afghans on deployment, Yama had a spread of fresh fruit and pastries waiting for us. We spent the night getting caught up and laughing about all sorts of things. And, we decided that the next day we would take an impromptu trip to Berlin.
We set off early on Saturday morning and drove several hours into the the heart of Berlin. Thanks to a GPS device expertly run by Mona (I had never used one before), we made our way to the only remaining section of the Berlin Wall. At one time, this wall spanned 150 kilometers. Now only a few hundred meters of wall is still standing. We took a slew of pictures up against this symbol of the cold war. Next, we went exploring the great city of Berlin. We found a beautiful park in the middle of Berlin. After walking through the park, we toured a monument to Russian troops killed in Berlin in World War II. Quite ironic for 2 Americans and an Afghan to be looking around a Russian monument! We stumbled upon the German Parliament. There was an interesting peaceful protest going on outside the building. It looked like a war protest perhaps. Nope, it was a group of people marching for the rights of dogs! Then, at the Brandenburg Gate (crossed by Napoleon and his forces in 1806) we watched some highly entertaining street performers. The scene was electric in this busy part of Berlin. As we headed back to our car, we made our way to an interesting city block that Mona noticed on the drive into Berlin. It was a collection of cement blocks of different sizes set up in perfect rows taking up a vast area. We did not know what it was at first. Then, we discovered that it was a holocaust memorial. We toured it which was a sobering experience to say the least. It was a fitting end to a memorable day in Berlin. We headed back to Naumburg to drop of Yama.
My life is greatly enriched for knowing Dr. Yama. We met in a war zone. Both of us have worked at large military hospitals and have seen the worst casualties you ever want to imagine. We grew up half a world apart, but somehow I think our upbringings were not that much different. His family is extremely important to him. He speaks highly of his 8 siblings. And, I know the importance of my 5 siblings in my life. Yama has an amazing spirit inside him. We were brought together in some unlikely circumstances. After spending an amazing day with Yama in Germany, it is absolutely clear to me that some bonds are never broken!
In 2008, I found myself in heavily armed in a combat zone on the outskirts of Kabul, Afghanistan. I was sent to the Kabul Military Training Center as a "mentor". My job was to train Afghan doctors and medics. Our mission was to perform physicals on every Afghan National Army recruit in the entire country. I decided early on to get to know the Afghans as much as I could. My parents taught me to accept all people and treat everyone with respect. This principle was crucile for me to have a successful mission in Afghanistan.
I worked closely with 6 Afghan doctors and 5 Afghan medics. Over the course of weeks to months, we all got to know one another quite a bit. We would talk about our personal lives. We would talk about the war. We would talk about religion. Almost no subject was taboo. It was refreshing. There was one doctor in particular that I became great friends with, Dr. Yama. He is about my age and has an engaging personality. He is extremely intelligent. He speaks good English which made it easy for us to talk. Yama comes from a family of 9 kids. He lives in Kabul and attended the Kabul Medical University. When I met him in 2008, he was single. Now he is married with one child. Yama is funny, articulate, compassionate, and hard working. He is one of the best people that I know in this world.
On 31 October 2008, I left the Kabul Military Training Center for the last time and began an 8 day journey back to the United States (military travel is measured in days not hours). The previous day I said goodbye to Yama. A group of children surrounded him as he walked away towards Jalalabad Road, a main artery of Kabul. Yama looked at the kids and proclaimed, "This is the future of Afghanistan." I doubted that I would ever see Yama again. We emailed several times that year but quickly lost touch with one another. Then, in the fall of 2010 Yama sent me a message stating that he was in Germany on a scholarship through the Afghan government. He was there studying German. If he learned the language well and passed many examinations, then he would get to work in a German hospital for one year of training. I was astounded. It was quite rare for any Afghan to leave their country. They have few resources and are still a third world nation. Upon hearing of Yama's good fortune to be in Germany, I vowed to visit him. This was my opportunity to see my good friend once again!
Several weeks ago, this wish became true. I travelled to Europe for a vacation along with my good friend Mona. We spent 5 days touring Bavaria (you must go there in your lifetime). Then, we rented a car and headed north to the town of Naumburg. We spent 5 hours speeding along the Autobahn which was a crazy experience. We drove through beautiful green pastures covered with scores of windmills. Eventually, we made it to Naumburg and pulled up to the school that Yama was now calling home. We spotted Yama waiting for us in front of his school. It was awesome to see him again. He invited us in, showed us around the school, and then invited us into his living quarters. True to the wonderful hospitality I had experienced from Afghans on deployment, Yama had a spread of fresh fruit and pastries waiting for us. We spent the night getting caught up and laughing about all sorts of things. And, we decided that the next day we would take an impromptu trip to Berlin.
We set off early on Saturday morning and drove several hours into the the heart of Berlin. Thanks to a GPS device expertly run by Mona (I had never used one before), we made our way to the only remaining section of the Berlin Wall. At one time, this wall spanned 150 kilometers. Now only a few hundred meters of wall is still standing. We took a slew of pictures up against this symbol of the cold war. Next, we went exploring the great city of Berlin. We found a beautiful park in the middle of Berlin. After walking through the park, we toured a monument to Russian troops killed in Berlin in World War II. Quite ironic for 2 Americans and an Afghan to be looking around a Russian monument! We stumbled upon the German Parliament. There was an interesting peaceful protest going on outside the building. It looked like a war protest perhaps. Nope, it was a group of people marching for the rights of dogs! Then, at the Brandenburg Gate (crossed by Napoleon and his forces in 1806) we watched some highly entertaining street performers. The scene was electric in this busy part of Berlin. As we headed back to our car, we made our way to an interesting city block that Mona noticed on the drive into Berlin. It was a collection of cement blocks of different sizes set up in perfect rows taking up a vast area. We did not know what it was at first. Then, we discovered that it was a holocaust memorial. We toured it which was a sobering experience to say the least. It was a fitting end to a memorable day in Berlin. We headed back to Naumburg to drop of Yama.
My life is greatly enriched for knowing Dr. Yama. We met in a war zone. Both of us have worked at large military hospitals and have seen the worst casualties you ever want to imagine. We grew up half a world apart, but somehow I think our upbringings were not that much different. His family is extremely important to him. He speaks highly of his 8 siblings. And, I know the importance of my 5 siblings in my life. Yama has an amazing spirit inside him. We were brought together in some unlikely circumstances. After spending an amazing day with Yama in Germany, it is absolutely clear to me that some bonds are never broken!
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