One Year

1 year.

Well, it’s been 12 months. 366 days (this year was a leap year right? Figures.). 52 weeks. Umpteen thousands of minutes. Any way you look at it, it is a long time. Or is it? I guess it is all perspective. In the grand scheme of life, a year is pittance. To a 1 year old, it’s a lifetime; literally. To my marriage, it’s about half of it. But a lot can happen in a year. Here are some thoughts and observations that I have on both my life and the world around it:

I was all about “winning the hearts and minds” of the Iraqi people and doing amazing things here. Now, this is a generalization, but for the most part, the Iraqi culture appears to thrive on deception and greed. It’s a civilization wrought with corruption for the sheer necessity of survival. You give a man a fish. He’ll sell it for profit and bomb you until you give him another fish. If you teach a man to fish, he’ll bomb you because you stopped giving him the fish and now he has to fend for himself. Draw the parallels how you like. That’s how it works out here. So now I’m leaning more towards the U.S. getting out while the getting is good.

On a lighter note, 1 yr ago, I was still striving to lose weight. I was struggling for about 3 years to drop about 7-10lbs. In that past year I was able to do that (get it, “lighter note”. I’ve been in Iraq a year now people, cut me some slack). We’ll see how my friends “Porter” and “Ale” help with maintaining that loss, when I return. But that is a battle to be fought. You’ve got to have goals right?

I guess that last bullet ties in with physical changes. I feel a bit older now as well. Little more mature. At least when I look at the pictures of me before and of now, I looked naive and inexperienced. It may not be true age, in years. Maybe Bitter-Army-Face. Who knows.

Professionally I have grown, both in the Physical Therapy world and as an Army officer. I was very uncomfortable with the elbow, wrist and hand; typically left for Occupational Therapy. Now, I’m only slightly uncomfortable. I can definitely tweak out the structure (sometimes using a reference such as Netter’s Bible. I mean Anatomical Atlas), but with more complex injuries I still feel shaky with the treatment plan. But that is still growth. I also feel significantly more confident with shoulder and neck injuries. And I branched out and tried things I would have never done, such as TMJ treatments, which ended up being very successful, with both patients. Is there still room to grow? “OH YEAH”, as the Cool-Aid Man would say. That is the amazing thing about Physical Therapy, there’s always somewhere you can advance to. In reference to the military growth, I feel that I can stand up to some of the higher powers at be, and support myself fairly well all while expressing respect to their authority. Before I would be more timid. I think that because I was the subject matter expert for musculoskeletal injuries, and having Docs and PAs alike seeking my opinion and advice, made me stand up and take charge in both professions at the same time. When you marry your job to an organization, the roles meld and you carry both out in front of you and hope that success in one, builds the other. I think I’m on the right track.

Religion. Brought up in it. Told what to believe and the prayers to do it. But did I understand? Not really. I had the concepts. I embarked on a religious awakening while here in Iraq. I turned this experience in the desert, into my desert experience. I was sequestered with some people who had the Spirit of Christ burning within and were willing to share. I opened my heart and mind to it and took in all that I could. I have a better relationship with God now and I hope that it reflects in the way I live my life and the way I raise a family in the future.

Politics. I still hate it. Nothing has changed there.

I guess beyond that, this has given me some insight as to the best and worst of people. We didn’t have any major events on the FOB to date. 3 mortar/rocket attacks in the beginning of the year, but that’s about it. No injuries other than breaking people’s perception that we are untouchable in our little cement surrounded plot of dirt. I’ve seen some heroic actions by some to save the lives of other, or at least the effects of that effort. I’ve also seen some tragic, disgusting acts of human malevolence and the wretched and emotional effects on people that it had, and I only saw the parts in theater. The ripple effect on the home front must be devastating. (The story about the 2 US Soldiers shot in cold blood by one of their own. Yeah, my unit. I actually knew the killer. It’s sickening to think about.) I know that reflecting on these events and the deployment as a whole so far, will help me keep my life much more centered than I previously thought that I was.

Now, last month I asked family and friends to reflect upon this past year and give me some thoughts. You can see some in the comments area, which I will rehash a bit. And I got a few in emails. Here’s the skinny on what a year has meant to you all:

Ryan, one of two of my cooler than life Brother-in-law-in-laws, in Maryland commented:

I say to let you know that it is not just the people with one degree of separation that have you in their thoughts. The whole group down here always asks about you. They read your updates, thank you for your service.

The past year has seen the birth of a nephew and soon, his first birthday. Amy's toughest year teaching. The Isles crapping the bed and missing the playoffs, the J-E-T-S... ugh 4-12, my realization that Louisville is not that far of a drive if you have good tunes, a deeper love and appreciation of Wegmans……

This is great because despite feeling alone and abandoned at points, there are people who do support me. (And I say me right now, because this is my BLOG, it’s about me. I’m not really that selfish, but right now it’s in context, so lay off.) When I arrived here, there were messages of support and love and by the 3rd month or so, they kinda dropped off. You knew who your close friends are by who continued to write, even the sporadic and the random notes. I hear from Dee that lots of friends of hers follow along and show support to her through their reading and asking questions and what not. So it is warming to know that the support stems beyond the few comments left each month on the BLOG and the intermittent emails that creep into my mail box. Then there is the issue of new life. My friends here have wee ones at home. When we left, they were by my account, blobs of pink skin with a hint of personality. Now, they are small people. Amazing. And finally, the realization that nothing is out of reach. Remember that when I’m in Alabama. (Yeah.. .AL-A-BAM-A. PLEASE VISIT…. PLEEEAAASE!)

I received a comment from Dana on the BLOG page (which I found ironic that she wrote b/c I found her profile at the Ithaca Alumni page a few weeks prior and was like “Sweet, Dana has a profile. I should write sometime.”) Dana is a blast from the past. Dana was one of the first friends I had at Ithaca. She was in the PT program and lived down the hall. She was always around to make us all smile. When she decided to go another direction and left the program, I didn’t see her nearly as often, and ties were lost. This deployment has brought out caring words from people who I’ve failed to keep in touch with, which I find to be the most emotionally touching gesture anyone can make to me. Despite my negligence, they stepped up and tried to make me feel supported.

And from Justin, my best friend. We’ve been friends since we were 8 and have been friends through it all, regardless of distance and time. He has an excellent point that we are all guilty of.

It is so easy to lose sight of the little things that are so important to us. This is particularly true when things are going fast and relatively well.

The way he and his lovely wife handle this is a yearly reflection around their anniversary and writing down and putting pictures in a scrap book. Not a bad suggestion to keep life in perspective. He adds,

We write down the easy stuff but what always gets me is the looking at past years. Looking at the pictures and thinking about how different I really was just a short year or two ago. I look at a picture of us [Lisa and him] and thing about what as important then compared to now.

I am surprised at the difference between then and now as well. For example, I was always concerned in the past as to what people thought about me all the time. To some degree everyone has to live with a third eye watching their own back, but beyond that, why worry about the fickle nature of society and those we live around. If you live a solid, ethically and morally sound lifestyle, you should have very little in life to prove.

Lastly, I want to reprint part of Katie D’s comment to last month because it sums up this past year pretty well.

Adapting to a new climate [Florida], as well as a job and lifestyle has been full of ups and downs, but it's an experience I wouldn't exchange for anything else. I've always believed that everything happens for a reason, so I take what comes and do what I can with it. It's all we can do.

Yup. It’s all we can do.

One might think that this would be more appropriate as a deployment wrap up. I agree. But one year is a huge milestone. So why not now? Plus, when the deployment is over I’m probably going to be more wrapped up in returning to life that has been on pause, than updating this thing. So I am offering this opportunity to reflect a few months early.

So with that, I say, see you in December. Yeah you read that right. Less than 2 months to go! We got word around mid October that Division is pressing for us to be home by Christmas!! OH HAPPY DAY! It’s a month sooner than expected. I can’t ask for much more.

Thank you all for your support to me and Dee. I’ll repeat that over and over. But at this major milestone, you have all helped to get me here in sound mind and spirit.

On a final note, the Family Readiness Group (FRG) has put out this message: “not to mail packages after 1 NOV 08 to Iraq. It will take approximately 4 weeks for it to arrive in Iraq…” We'll be preparing to come home. If it is durable in any way shape or form, it'll either go in the trash or be left in Iraq. (We get one bag per person, and we have to drag that sucker everywhere)

11 Months

The 29th of September marks the end of our 11th month in theater. Next month I’ll try to reflect upon the significance of One full year. October starts the countdown to an entire year away from our families, friends, and things that we are comfortable with. We now have new comforts. Comforts that we would otherwise rather do without, never have turned to, or never have thought of as a comfort given any other situation.

What do I find comfortable? Well, the past 3 months have a different level of comfort due to the fact that I moved into a CHU what allows some personal refuge. Initially, when we arrived, a bed with a mattress constituted comfort both physically and mentally. While some people were still sleeping on stretched nylon/canvas cots, I made the effort to scavenge the pieces of a bed and a decent mattress. After a few weeks, my tough box came in and I had linen. A small creature comfort? Sure. It was a tiny semblance of something from home. From there, it took 8 months until I was to a better place; a greater level of ease in this austere environment. In July, as you have probably read I finally moved out of a large tent without privacy, to a can. Four walls, a door with a lock, and climate control. It was a small paradise. Closing the door of the CHU, I can go to my own little world. Turn on the music I like, with speakers, no longer being forced to use headphones, sit in the clothes that I choose without someone leering for not being in the proper T shirt with those shorts, etc. And walking bare foot. Yes, bare foot. I clean my floor with Clorox every other day or so, so I can do so. I can’t tell you what it is like to feel that free. When I went on leave in June, the most extraordinary sensation, other than being around my amazing Wife, was being able to walk barefoot around our hotel room. When we were in Garmisch, I ran on a freshly mowed soccer field bare foot. The moist soil under my foot and the soft grass between my toes was the most sensually awakening experience. That was the first time, other than walking to the bathroom in the hotel rooms the few days prior, that I had been bare foot in over 8 months. Now, in my CHU, I can walk on the vinyl flooring or my little area carpet, sans foot wear. Small event. Big feeling.

The other major thing that I have immersed myself in to find a level of mental and physical ease, is coffee. Caffeine aside, the flavors of different roasts, the aroma, the actual act and sounds of making that magnificent beverage, brings me back home. Sunday’s with my parents in the living room reading the paper, or the weekends in KY with my extraordinary wife watching real estate shows on HGTV. Pure, unadulterated peace and relaxation. I can try (try being the operative word here) to replicate that by sitting in my camp chair, Ray Lamontagne (or whomever I choose) playing on speakers, magazine/book in hand, and a hot cup of coffee. I have reverted to this activity daily now as opposed to just the weekends, and every time I still feel ultra relaxed. It’s one of the few ways to maintain a sound mind out here, between stupid uniform rules and the increasing level of stupidity and ignorance and disrespect that the soldiers all around me are exhibiting, as we continue to plod along in this deployment.

I never thought that walking barefoot, listening to music through speakers and simply having sheets instead of a sleeping bag would make such a difference in the level of my morale. I hope that when I return home to the luxuries of life in the States, that I don’t forget the little things and start to take for granted what I have. Good coffee, comfortable furniture, and something that I know I’ll never take for granted, the company of loved ones, especially my wife.

I’m glad in some ways to have been given this opportunity to inspect myself internally. I’m not glad to be separated from Dee, or my friends and family. This desert experience, both in figurative and literal sense, has been eye opening in regards to self assessment and awareness. As much as I hate it here, there has been some good that came from it. Now we should be going home, but are still settled in for 3+ months of continuing the same ol’ routine.

As we enter the countdown to a year of being separated, I urge you to take stock of your blessings and even misfortunes and see how they have affected your life. Appreciate it all. Or at the very least, acknowledge it.

Also, think about what a year means to you. I want to put into perspective the concept of ONE YEAR. Social, personal, economic, political, I’m not picky. Give me your thoughts and observations and I will put them and some of my own into the next BLOG. 22 October, will mark the day that Dee and I parted ways from the Army Lodge at Ft. Stewart. 29 October will mark the day I boarded a plane to this ….. this…. place.

Until then, I’m counting down the days. I’m guesstimating approximately 95. Oh to be in that 30 day window.