Enjoy some Tokay for me

Back in Guam, we lived next door to the chaplain for the USS Frank Cable (it's the one that had the steam rupture in DEC 2006 requiring medevac of seven patients to Brook Army Hospital for burns. Seaman Valentine died of inhalation injuries. The CO lost his job).

Chaps was quite the character. A poker-playing, Communist-hating, God-loving man, he was from Hungary and grew up under the Communists (hence the passionate distaste---and don't get him started on Muslims, either). He started a Bible study at his home on Wednesday evenings and, when we returned from Thailand, I talked to him about Buddhism. Buddhism, as a philosophy, held a distinct lure for me---peacefulness, serenity, calmness---all emotions alien to this high-strung, fiery dynamo (yes, I think that accurately describes me).

I asked him if Buddhism was compatible with Christianity and he surprised me by saying, "Yes, and there is such a thing as a Buddhist Jesuit."

I think the attraction comes from what one practitioner has said:

"Christianity is long on content but short on method and technique. So I think Buddhism is providing Christians with practices, with techniques, by which they can enter more experientially into the content of what they believe."

Chaps knew I wasn't much of a drinker and asked me what I liked. "Sweet wines," I said.

"I have the perfect wine for you," he said, and he pulled out this tiny bottle from his cabinet and poured a small bit of golden liquid into a glass. "I think you'll like this." And every time I went over to his house after that, he would pour me a glass of Tokay.

Tokay is incredibly sweet. It's like drinking warm liquid raisins, for lack of a better description. I don't think I could drink enough to get drunk before I would get sick, but it was enough to "warm" me up, to shake my rigidness and inflexibility loose, to allow me to feel fellowship with others.

What I wouldn't give to have a glass of Tokay in Guam---and a mulligan.

Your Milieu Counts! (Before and After)

How I decorate my surroundings truly affects how I feel or behave. I didn't really believe this until I got my order for my rug and sitting pillow from Urban Outfitters. I know I'm not their demographic, but I'm glad they let me buy anyway. [*Sigh* When did I become uncool?]

I definitely feel a lot happier since having some personalization and color in my milieu.

I had originally planned to decorate my cubicle little by little with trinkets and treasures from the Middle East. That was going to take a while, probably even longer than the six months or so that I'm here because we weren't allowed off post for the first six weeks because of Ramadan. Our MWR crew has set up two off-post excursions in October for eight people each time. Get this: there are 133 people who would like to get off-post. I thought the statement, "If more than 8 people sign up, we will hold a lottery," was silly. Hellooooo! And if the names of the two people organizing the trips is on the list, I'm going to be more than a little irked.

I Love Sundays

When you work six days a week, you love the time you get for yourself.

I don't need an alarm clock anymore. I wake before it's scheduled to go off, anyway. That's what happens when you go to work six days a week. The best part is on the seventh day, you still wake up at the same time, but you don't have to get out of bed...at least, not right away.

This is the start of my sixth Ground Hog Week at EMFK. EMF stands for "Expeditionary Medical Facility;" the "K" stands for "Kuwait."

This morning I have already done my laundry, eaten breakfast, read the papers, and shopped for wicked shoes on Zappo's (they're not my usual sexy heels---when the ground is unstable sand and hard rock, you have to go with the environment). My wedge sandals are losing the edge of their heels and I don't have any way of getting them repaired quickly or easily. [Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.] Funny, how I chose brown. That's probably because I'm heavily influenced by my environment. And, my two pairs of pants are brown. In Arab countries, women simply don't wear dresses or skirts.

I will listen to some podcasts (Car Talk is my favorite; This American Life is second) while I iron my uniform. I'll set up a blog so my LPN candidates can do self-study and not worry about missing class sessions while on duty or R&R. I'll read my latest book from the base library, "Solar," by Ian McEwan and drink a cup or two of Chocolate Mint Oolong tea from Stash. I intend to write a letter to Anna and Drew, too, and start a pile of stuff I need to send back home because it's inappropriate, I don't need it or I can't use it. I have a 8 x 9 foot cubicle that would be roomy if it contained a workdesk and files, but it features a double bunk bed and two gun-metal gray upright wall lockers.

Lest you think I'm kidding about the office cubicle aspect, my walls are also gun-metal gray and the only reason I have some privacy is a dowel rod duct-taped across the entry with flat drapes suspended by shower curtain rings. I need to find a color printer so I can mark my address outside my cubicle: "Mary at DilbertWorld."

Then, bright and early on Monday, Ground Hog Week starts once more. Only 25 or so weeks left.

Kenpo Karate Class Canceled---"Just for Tonight"

Well, I got a to-go box at the DFAC and waited for the Blue Route bus to take me to Zone 6 so I could check out the Kenpo Karate class. On the bus, I heard two soldiers talking about another soldier.

"Yeah, I've tried really hard to orient this guy to his job, but he just doesn't listen. And, when I was talking to him about how I invest in stocks, he told me he looks at Valium. I said, 'Valium, what's that? He says, 'You know, the amount of stocks,' and I say, 'You mean, volume' and he says, 'Right, Valium.' I tell him, 'Volume is the amount, Valium is a sedative.'"

His friend just sits there and nods sagely. Then they start talking about credit cards.

I get off the bus and Chief G is getting off the bus. "Hey, Chief," I said. "Where are you going?" He said, "I'm getting a haircut. The barber is better in Zone 6."

I didn't have time to eat much of my dinner before I hit the gym. Food isn't allowed so I threw it in the trash. It wasn't a big loss anyway. I walked in and asked the guys at the front where the Karate class was held. They pointed to the far corner of the gym. "But it's been canceled," they tell me.

"Canceled?" I repeat, bewildered.

"Just for tonight," they promise.

"Well, what about the Tae Kwon Do class?"

"Oh, that's tomorrow at 1945. That class is on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Not today."

I walk around the gym for a little bit and take a look at SGT Ariel's ABS class that is happening where my karate class should be. They look like they're in pain. I grab a bottle of water and walk back to the bus stop. Maybe tomorrow.

A Little Like Dying

I've known for a few months now I will be deploying. Pretty much in denial for the first few months, I was able to tolerate this and, because of the chaos and uproar at work, almost welcomed the respite from the Beltway drama.



That changed as I got my anthrax shot (which laid me low) and I avoided a smallpox vaccination because of some form of dermatitis on my collarbone. All of a sudden I have less than 28 days left on this side of the world, no childcare plan in place yet, and overwhelming grief that I have not been able to accomplish all I set out to do in my assignment as the Department Head of Surgical Nursing.



In leaving for the unknown with hopes of returning, I understand my grief is due to changes beyond my control. I won't be returning to this same position. I can't; someone else will have stepped in to take the helm. So what will I do when I come back? Will it be as challenging? Fun?



I've been keeping in touch with one of my JG's in Kandahar who has excelled and is over half-way through her deployment. "What do you want to do when you get back?" I asked, hoping she would want to stay and provide leadership and expertise on the ward. "I'd like to go to the APU or PACU," she writes. "I've been working on the wards and assisting with trauma, which can be rewarding but draining. I'd like a break." So, I ask her if she's considered becoming an OR nurse; would she have time to shadow a nurse there? She'd have the opportunity to provide attention to detail, work as a team, and monitor patient safety. "It provides some distance from the patient," I suggest.



As an Individual Augmentee (IA), I am plucked from my workplace and sent alone (mostly) to meet up with other individuals to form a tribe of providers to do a job far away from our families and support networks.



Are you okay? Yes, I think so.

LEGO Serious Play

Drew says his dream job is to be a LEGO designer. He plans on working at LegoLand in California when he becomes a teenager and now I found out that LEGO is working in the business world!

Whirlwind Tour of Oahu

FRIDAY, 31 AUGUST (REDUX)

We arrived on Friday morning, a "Ground Hog Day" for us because we had already lived through more than half of Friday in Guam. Tired from 11 hours of flying, we didn't get much more done than ogle the sights at Ala Moana Shopping Center. [Can you say, "Jamba Juice"?]

SATURDAY, 1 AUGUST

Saturday was a bit more inspired, but even I managed to sleep in past 8 am (normally I never sleep past 6:30) and we didn't get going until around 10:30. We met Sherry, Mike, and their two sons, Ethan and Alex, for lunch at Sam Choy's where we caught up on all the latest information. After lunch, we spent a couple of hours exploring Iolani Palace. I lived in Hawaii for nearly 7 years (not continuously) and I hadnever visited the palace. It was beautiful and we learned a lot about Hawaiian history. The self-guided audio tour is great; Drew nearly cried when he heard the king had died and all the happy bunting and celebrations were changed to mourning.


We returned to the hotel to swim in the pool and ocean and eat dinner at Bibas. It was a quiet night watching television.

SUNDAY, 2 AUGUST

We knew today was going to be busy and it was. We attended the service at Pearl Harbor Subase Chapel. Instead of the congregation of retired submariners, the chapel held a handful of younger members in a contemporary service. I really missed singing The Navy Hymn and the in-depth description of a submarine lost during World War II, but the sermon was good and the stained glass windows were still there.

A quick lunch and the Arizona Memorial were next. I have my flag and certificate attesting to having flown over the Arizona Memorial when I re-enlisted in 1987. I remember I didn't even buy breakfast for my re-enlisting officer, Captain Heaton, and for that I am truly remorseful. I certainly didn't understand military etiquette. Gregg wanted to tour Ford Island, so we drove over, a true novelty as only a ferry linked Ford Island with the main island when I was stationed here.

Then it was on to the Dole Plantation and its Guiness Book of World Records Winning Maze. We didn't come anywhere close to the record for finishing the maze (8 minutes, in case you were wondering), but had a great time navigating it. Drew gives it two thumbs up! Some pineapple juice and pineapple ice cream for the road and we were on our way back to the hotel to change clothes and slather sunscreen for a trek to Diamond Head. We were taking our leisurely time until I noted we had to be in the park by 4:30pm. The current time was 4:08pm. We grabbed the receptionist's attention and asked, What is the fastest way to get to Diamond Head?" She said, "By car."


Quickly piling in, we whipped in and out of Honolulu traffic, every light magically turning green as we approached. We made it through the gates at 4:25pm. Snatching bottles of water at the base of the crater, we started our hike upwards. Drew led the pack and we were treated to breathtaking views of Waikiki.

For dinner, we wanted to recreate our dinners at a local Thai restaurant. Back in 1994, Gregg and I would buy our alcohol at Safeway then walk over to Mekong. We couldn't find it on a brief run through the neighborhood and everyone was starving so it was one last dinner at the food court at Ala Moana. [Jamba Juice again!]

Gregg, Anna and Drew went down to the pool for one last swim and now we're busy packing for a very early morning flight to Legoland!