The belly of the beast...The hospital...the Lieutellan... and cursing the mess (cafeteria)...ADVENTURES ON THE USS WHIDBEY ISLAND
Sorry but the second installment of the story was Delayed…
It appears that I have suffered one of the worst cases of I miss my bike-itis in all of recorded history.
Yes I even went as far as staring at a poor son of a gun moving like a mini
(albeit slower than I move) bullet along the Cypriot roads.
It is true. I have arrived in the loving arms of family may God bless them for their kindness which I hope not to impose upon for too long.
When all of this foolishness is behind us I can get back to Lebanon and finish my degree.
Now onward to the juicy details!
The skirt of the hulking grey beasty, known as an LCAC, was a carpet that lead us down to the ramp in the back of the USS Whidbey Island. The ship was a cavern inside with tanks and HUMVEE’s all throughout the hold. It appeared that this would also be a long wait.
The irreverent to the rules Lebanese were to suffer the indignity of getting their own baggage and dragging it aboard. They would then have to entrust it to the boys of the Navy…
Translation being that they would throw it on top of the bunks to make sure that nobody stole their sleeping spot...Worst of it is THEY NEVER USED the sleeping spot... leaving me only 2 hours on the rack.
When I first arrived a wonderful M.D., Lieutenant Pugh, was unlucky enough to get flagged down…”am I the guy you are looking for?” then I whipped out the triage card. I guess that I was….
Triage cards WHICH SHOULD BE USED IN ANY MULTI-CASUALTY SCENE rank individuals.
You get the bunny meaning one of your ABC’s is critical and you get a ride out first…
You get the tortoise meaning you can make it if you don’t go first…
You get the black background with the white dagger cross if you are dead or.... if you are not dead you might as well be.. because you are going to take more than the unit can commit to make you reach the hospital in a living condition…
On the flip side there are specifics that tell them where you are “hit” and a short description piece below…
It is truly amazing to look at what a TON of information you can get on a little rolodex card with a bit of string on it.
The Lieutellan (as they put it in "South Pacific") took me up to the Hospital…It was there I met a familiar sight…but there were some pieces missing…. An operating room…only this one lacked the laminar flow and double doors… It was a bed with lights and that was about it.
Crazy the way the military cuts things back to the boney fundamentals!
I got my blood test and it popped out a whopping 198 and that was AFTER an injection…I was 225 on the beach… Things were getting pretty sour in my blood so life was going to be a bit painful for a while. I was to push fluids as our health team…cough cough (translation me and the MD) decided…
I thought the best bet would be an IV…
SO.... I got a pretty lousy stick in the arm. The sailor doing it was roping the thing around for what felt like forever…The stupid tip of the thing wouldn’t get under the skin.
FINALLY he got the Teflon off of the steely needle and I started getting my bags of goodies!!!
I learned an interesting thing though this little process… THE MILITARY DOESN’T HEPRINIZE their IV lines….strange I thought, but then again these are usually strapping young guys they are treating and those guys may blow a clot given some of the speeds they push on fluids…
After my first baggie of saline I was feeling a bit better I went out on the deck to take a look at the situation and give some of the most important people in my life a call. The signal was choppy just before they blew the hell out of the Cell phone towers.
I also got off one of the most important messages of my life… I am still wondering how its recipient feels about it… Not knowing is probably the worst part of it… that is what makes war such a stress. These days you don’t know about the bombs until AFTER they hit… I guess the same must be true of messages such as this one. I don’t like betting at all. But to be honest this one didn’t feel like a bet. The results wouldn’t change the message or what was driving it to be sent… I had only swung though…The beginnings of the motion started AGES ago…and as I got closer to that instant things sped up. This is a horrific golf metaphor my dear readers and I know that you know I should know better… But at the bottom of the swing when the club is moving the fastest… the best thing to do is be ZEN… flow in and flow out nothing drastic nothing spastic…
COMFORT is key…
This message, strange as it may seem…
brought comfort. I was skating a razor’s edge by sending it…
but I was being honest…
and for me honesty is the key…
although I feel sad that I didn’t engage the recipient as I had initially plotted and planned…
AND THERE WAS A BUTTLOAD OF PLOTTING AND PLANNING….
but there it is…I did the best that I could with what I had…May they find it to be something worth smiling about when they tell the kids…
If they are reading this…. I would like them to wave at the screen because I can see when you dropped by….
Dear Reader….
and for how long too….Mu haa haa haa haaa
I went back behind the bolted door after taking a couple pictures of the people standing around and the last sliver of Beirut I would see for a long time…
The next part of the blog is fogged in the metal cocoon where I am not sure how the hours passed other than that it was mostly in discussion with some great marines… Times like this I really kick myself that I didn’t get the chance to shoot through a military career and have everything paid for come out with an MD and get the whole Navy/Air force/Marine benefits.
The only problem is the complete lack of sleep…unending boredom… followed by the intense focus… I faced that in the fire service only not for months on end. So I recanted and surrendered my spot in the hospital for a woman with a broken hip….
What came next was the great bunk experience…. And that my dear readers…will come later…
It appears that I have suffered one of the worst cases of I miss my bike-itis in all of recorded history.
Yes I even went as far as staring at a poor son of a gun moving like a mini
(albeit slower than I move) bullet along the Cypriot roads.
It is true. I have arrived in the loving arms of family may God bless them for their kindness which I hope not to impose upon for too long.
When all of this foolishness is behind us I can get back to Lebanon and finish my degree.
Now onward to the juicy details!
The skirt of the hulking grey beasty, known as an LCAC, was a carpet that lead us down to the ramp in the back of the USS Whidbey Island. The ship was a cavern inside with tanks and HUMVEE’s all throughout the hold. It appeared that this would also be a long wait.
The irreverent to the rules Lebanese were to suffer the indignity of getting their own baggage and dragging it aboard. They would then have to entrust it to the boys of the Navy…
Translation being that they would throw it on top of the bunks to make sure that nobody stole their sleeping spot...Worst of it is THEY NEVER USED the sleeping spot... leaving me only 2 hours on the rack.
When I first arrived a wonderful M.D., Lieutenant Pugh, was unlucky enough to get flagged down…”am I the guy you are looking for?” then I whipped out the triage card. I guess that I was….
Triage cards WHICH SHOULD BE USED IN ANY MULTI-CASUALTY SCENE rank individuals.
You get the bunny meaning one of your ABC’s is critical and you get a ride out first…
You get the tortoise meaning you can make it if you don’t go first…
You get the black background with the white dagger cross if you are dead or.... if you are not dead you might as well be.. because you are going to take more than the unit can commit to make you reach the hospital in a living condition…
On the flip side there are specifics that tell them where you are “hit” and a short description piece below…
It is truly amazing to look at what a TON of information you can get on a little rolodex card with a bit of string on it.
The Lieutellan (as they put it in "South Pacific") took me up to the Hospital…It was there I met a familiar sight…but there were some pieces missing…. An operating room…only this one lacked the laminar flow and double doors… It was a bed with lights and that was about it.
Crazy the way the military cuts things back to the boney fundamentals!
I got my blood test and it popped out a whopping 198 and that was AFTER an injection…I was 225 on the beach… Things were getting pretty sour in my blood so life was going to be a bit painful for a while. I was to push fluids as our health team…cough cough (translation me and the MD) decided…
I thought the best bet would be an IV…
SO.... I got a pretty lousy stick in the arm. The sailor doing it was roping the thing around for what felt like forever…The stupid tip of the thing wouldn’t get under the skin.
FINALLY he got the Teflon off of the steely needle and I started getting my bags of goodies!!!
I learned an interesting thing though this little process… THE MILITARY DOESN’T HEPRINIZE their IV lines….strange I thought, but then again these are usually strapping young guys they are treating and those guys may blow a clot given some of the speeds they push on fluids…
After my first baggie of saline I was feeling a bit better I went out on the deck to take a look at the situation and give some of the most important people in my life a call. The signal was choppy just before they blew the hell out of the Cell phone towers.
I also got off one of the most important messages of my life… I am still wondering how its recipient feels about it… Not knowing is probably the worst part of it… that is what makes war such a stress. These days you don’t know about the bombs until AFTER they hit… I guess the same must be true of messages such as this one. I don’t like betting at all. But to be honest this one didn’t feel like a bet. The results wouldn’t change the message or what was driving it to be sent… I had only swung though…The beginnings of the motion started AGES ago…and as I got closer to that instant things sped up. This is a horrific golf metaphor my dear readers and I know that you know I should know better… But at the bottom of the swing when the club is moving the fastest… the best thing to do is be ZEN… flow in and flow out nothing drastic nothing spastic…
COMFORT is key…
This message, strange as it may seem…
brought comfort. I was skating a razor’s edge by sending it…
but I was being honest…
and for me honesty is the key…
although I feel sad that I didn’t engage the recipient as I had initially plotted and planned…
AND THERE WAS A BUTTLOAD OF PLOTTING AND PLANNING….
but there it is…I did the best that I could with what I had…May they find it to be something worth smiling about when they tell the kids…
If they are reading this…. I would like them to wave at the screen because I can see when you dropped by….
Dear Reader….
and for how long too….Mu haa haa haa haaa
I went back behind the bolted door after taking a couple pictures of the people standing around and the last sliver of Beirut I would see for a long time…
The next part of the blog is fogged in the metal cocoon where I am not sure how the hours passed other than that it was mostly in discussion with some great marines… Times like this I really kick myself that I didn’t get the chance to shoot through a military career and have everything paid for come out with an MD and get the whole Navy/Air force/Marine benefits.
The only problem is the complete lack of sleep…unending boredom… followed by the intense focus… I faced that in the fire service only not for months on end. So I recanted and surrendered my spot in the hospital for a woman with a broken hip….
What came next was the great bunk experience…. And that my dear readers…will come later…
posted by otterinaround at 1:38 PM
1 Comments:
I randomly stumbled across your blog a few weeks ago and have become interested in your story. I check back often to read your updates. I am Canadian and until yesterday I had a friend who was in Lebanon and trying to leave. I can tell from your writing that you did not want to leave and you love the country very much. As someone who doesn't even know you but is a frequent visitor to your blog, I am happy you are safe. I cannot even imagine how it must be to have to leave behind the friends and life that you know due to circumstances completely beyond your control. Hopefuly someday soon this will be over so that you, and others, will be able to return to the country you love to try to put your lives back together. Good luck with everything.
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