Ramadan...and all its restrictions.

Aug 10th came and went like any other day. It was ridiculosly hot and humid, dusty, and the faint sound of Arabic prayers rang through the desert. Like a horrible soundtrack to a worse music video. We all knew what the next day had in store for us....The begining of RAMADAN!!!! (cue screaming girl)

The weeks prior to the begining to the holy month of fasting were filled with emails, training sessions, and boring powerpoints explaining the rules and regulations for this; the holy month of Ramadan. I, like most of my colleages, paid little to no attention to the awareness that was force fed to us. I'm not a tasty chicken on a farm, so I should not be treated as such.

Rule 1: No tobacco use (smoking, dipping, or chewing) or chewing gun outside or while driving.
My response to Rule 1: Fuck you. Do you Muslims realize the pain and suffering that will ensue following restriction of tobacco for me. If I dont have a dip by 9 am stand by. Its gonna get bloody. I dont smoke anymore, so thats not the issue. I dont "chew" tobacco, I stick it between my cheek and gum. Whats the harm in that. I am pretty sure the Prophet Muhammed isnt going to care if I sneak a little Cope on the way to work. So eat me little brown smelly dudes. I am not going to follow this rule. Even if I wanted to follow this rule and avoid a massacre from nicotine withdrawl but chewing nicotine gum, I CANT. Another stupid rule. Is gum anti-Muslim? I have read the Wrigley's pack a time or two waiting for the light rail, never did I read "Muslims suck, chew our gum during Ramadan."

Rule 2: No eating or drinking this includes bottled water in any public area.
My response to Rule 2: Fuck you. So you expect me to become dehydrated, pass out, then rely on the Kuwaiti EMS to take care of me because of a Holy month that I dont believe in. Those assholes dont even know how to start an IV. Seriously, you dont shower or shave and I should trust that your medical supplies are clean. Noooo wayyyy you crazy fuck. No eating?!?! How can I eat. ALL THE RESTAURANTS ARE CLOSED UNTIL 1830. Do you understand the amount of hate consumed me following the mile walk to the local Chinese place in 130 heat just to find out its closed. I dont think I've sworn like that in a while. Also, whats the deal with restricting my caffiene intake? Coffee on the drive to work is a staple in my life. Now I'm tired, having a nicotine fit and a little light headed from dehrdration and hypoglycemia. I hate Ramadan.

Rule 3: Females must be covered at all times in public.
My response to Rule 3: Fuck you. Seeing a trend here? Now I have a caffiene headache, hypoglycemic, dehydrated, experiencing nicotine withdrawl, and sexually repressed. No wonder you asshole have been at war since the dawn of time. What about I suggest a small change to the month of August. BBQ, get your chicks in some bikinis, some cold beers and hang out by the pool. Its fuckin hot. Live it up fuckers lifes short! Glad im not a chick, I'm not wearing pants in this heat! Or long sleeves. Screw that.

So to sum up the last couple of paragraphs. Fuck you, not you you, but Ramadan. Do your eyes hurt yet? This black screen with the little white letters messes with my vision a little. Quit rubbing them! It only makes it worse. Anyway, thats all I have about Ramadan. It is kinda cool to experience another culture and live abroad...next time I am going to choose a more laid back place...maybe Fiji!

Becoming an alien...legally

It's 5 pm on my first day off. Bootleg booze and some coke in hand watching the begining of shark month enjoying the AC. Finally at home relaxing after 6 in a row on shift. Looking forward to a not-so-cheap buzz and hanging out by the pool. I open my work email, like I am required to do at least once a day, there it is. The email that I hate getting. "Appt tommorrow." The subject line taunts me like a poorly exucuted school yard joke. "Residency appt with Kuwait medical and police. 1400 lobby of your building, KRH bus will pick you up." I slam the rest of my drink and call up my supervisor. "Ryan, are you fucking kidding me bro?" I spout, knowing he had no control over it. "You have to go to the appt for your residency." "We all did it." He replies. "Yeah, but not after fucking 6 days on shift." I snarkly say back just for argument sake. "Well, you dont have a choice Karl." He snaps back. "Alright I will be there, but I swear I'm not going to like it!"

So, 1337 the next day I head downstairs in shorts, a tshirt, ballcap, and my I-pod. In all the stories of the 3 to 4 hr process, like any government process there is plenty of down time. I figured that some music might help make it less painful. "Ummm...do you think that you can put some pants on?" the operations guy tells me as I walk into the lobby. I glance around, I am in fact the only person wearing shorts. "Why the fuck do I have to put pants on?" I question. "Its a muslim country and it makes things easier, then they have nothing to turn you away for." He replies. "Ok." I agree "I will put some pants on for these assholes." Back up the elevator, pants on wallet and phone in pocket I head back down. Bus arrives only about 45 min late, fuck me I hate this country, thinking that I have to work in the morning and this is completely destroying my day off. Into the short bus we go.

Now, I am like most people, I observe the situation and then act. Bus driver, Hadji of some sort. Bus, shitty and smells like armpits and feces. Oh well, make the most of the situation right? I reach for my Ipod, which is securly placed in the cargo pocket of my shorts. "Fuck me, this is going to be a painful process." I think to myself as we lumber down the road. People are talking as I watch the city go by. I havent spent a lot of time looking around in my travels here. There is still trash everywhere.

We finally slow down and make a right hand turn into what most civilized people would call a ghetto. Nasty, trashy, and down right not the place for a bus load of white folk. Oops...there was one black guy on the bus. So not a good place for a bus load of white folk and one black dude. We stop outside a building barred up from the ground to the 6th floor. Cops cars outside, must be a police station. Its now about 3pm. Everything is locked up tight. Well there goes that idea. As the 10 or so of us turn around towards the bus it starts to drive away. "WIIINNNGGG" I see a airborne water bottle heading towards the side of the bus. "WHAM" Hadji Jim, or whatever his name is, locks up the brakes. "Thats right fucker, you arent going to leave us here to die." I thought to myself. Back on the bus heading towards a parking lot. There we meet the brains behind the operation. Our sponsor company, who had been doing this for god knows how long, cant seem to get it right from what im gathering. We spend the next 40 min inside the bus as they attempt to locate all the paperwork we will be needing for this endevour.

We head to the "new" finger printing place which is a short 45 min bus ride away. Glad the AC worked enough to keep the smell to a tollerable level. Off the bus. Now there are three buses with another company of people trying to accomplish the same steps for their process. From talking with them, we gather they load planes for the military at the airport. To top it off, they make more than we do. Sweet, whatever still more than I would make back home. Bet ya can't guess what happened at this police station. Yep, they're closed also. Back on the bus.

45 min ride back to where we came from to the Kuwait residency medical clinic. We get our passports back in hand, tempting more than just me to think of leaving to the airport right now. And now we are in line for a blood draw. I am about 5th in line watching the Kuwaiti drawing blood. Now I am not one to judge someone elses talent. But I swear this dude must be the bass fishing champ of Kuwait. I have never seen someone fish that long for blood in a while. Everyone is complaining about his technique, remember we are all EMS, and swearing they wont be letting this guy take their blood. His victim stands up hits the floor and all I see is the open seat. I hop in it, while Capt. Pass-out is being revived and let the guy hit my vein. He has no problem with my blood-draw and now I'm off to take my chest x-ray.

Following the directions of our sponsor guy, I walk to the white building at the end of the road. What he neglected to tell me was the chest x-ray entrance is on the other side of the building. I wander into the first open door I see. Seriously it was like a horror flick. One light flickering in the background, abadoned hospital rooms with trash everywhere, I was on guard for a zombie to walk out of a door and try to bite me. "Hope this isnt the place." I say outloud hoping someone will hear me. Back out the freaky door, around the building and into the x-ray waiting room. "Please stand and remove dress shirt and wait for call" the sign reads in broken english. It finishes up with "Thank you Bye." WTF?!?!? Who is translating for these people. So, shirt off and I finally get called in. The X-ray tech running the machine is sitting behind a piece of glass at a desk. He stands and guides me towards the xray partition to slam me into the film. Which I never saw him clean, so now I have sweaty TCN all over my chest. Awesome!

We all finish up and guess what we did. Back on the bus! Heading 45 min drive back to the finger print place which is now open. Now, again I am not one to judge someones talents, but I have filtered through a corrections facility a time or two and know a little something about fingerprinting. The whole roll the finger get a good print thing. This was nothing like that. Place finger in ink, slap onto paper, out the door. So I was okay with it.

We all finished, then BACK ON THE BUS!! 40 min ride back to the apartments and in a quick 5 hr trip. So now I wait like everyone else for my special civil Id for the state of Kuwait. Sweet.

Duabi Trip and rethinking...

I returned from a trip to the UAE for a 3 day R&R. It was an awesome time, but I might not go so soon next time. We arrived in Dubai around 9 am. After getting through customs, which was another bag scanner and a stamp from the customs guys giving us 30 day visa, we headed to the duty free. I dont know if you have ever been to a dry country, or county for that matter, but seeing the things you love after being restriced from them is awesome. I think it might be the same as a blind person getting their vision back. Its like all the things you have put up with for the last little while have all been worth it. Until the next morning of course. We all bought (BTW It was Jeff, Ryan and I on this trip) a bottle of liquor a piece, jeff and Ryan both bought beer and I picked up a carton of smokes. Not that I smoke that often anymore, but $16.00 and being overly-happy made that decision for me. We headed out into the big yonder that is is Dubai.

I have been to Dubai 6 times previously and what little I remember of it, I always had a great time. The fact of the matter is every other time I have been there, the US Navy told me when and where I could go for the most part. So having total freedom is kind of like letting a wild animal out of a cage. It takes a while for them to realize they can run and they are always a little perplexed on why they now have this freedom. Pretty good comparison if I do say so my self! So we get a cab. First guy tells us AED 150. Fuck that. If there is one thing I always do its research before I go somewhere. I know the going rate for a cab to our hotel on the beach (22miles) is about AED 80. or $22 USD. So we find a new cab and head out.

Pulling up to the hotel was something I wont forget. Guys in white gloves opening the cab door. I felt bad we didnt rent a limo for a 5 star resort on the beach, but then again who cares, we are American, so by default people think we are rich anyway. Prior to leaving I became a member of the Hilton HHonors program. Free to sign up with an email address and a reservation, so I thought why not. Turns out this got us an upgrade to an executive room for and extra $30 a night and free breakfast along with the best service I have ever recieved in my life. Special check in desk for the HHonors program. We were about 4 hrs early for check in time so we dropped our booze and luggage off with the conceirge and headed to our reservation at the worlds tallest building.

We arrived at the Burj Dubai with 40 min before our reservation time. Good thing. We were on the COMPLETE opposite side of where the tours were. After walking around the building in 120F heat with 100% humidity and being soaked in sweat we made it inside the Dubai Mall. We went through the check-in process for the tour and headed towards the elevators. Oh yeah, forgot a very important part of the story. So we had a half an hour before we needed to leave the hotel after dropping our stuff off, so we went to the bar on the beach for a much needed drink. Guess who landed on the only Muslim holiday in the month of July. WE DID! No booze was being served ANYWHERE before sundown. Fuck I am REALLY REALLY begining to hate this religion more and more. So back to the tour...

We arrived at the elevators with fancy rope like an exclusive disney ride about 1245 or so. Climbed into the elevator and the doors shot closed. The first thing I noticed is there were only 4 buttons on the elevator. Lobby, Floor 124, Alarm, and a fire helmet. I can only assume the fire helmet button made fire helmets pop up for the Halloween season. The nice elevator guy pressed the 124th button. Inside the elevator was Dark. When I say dark, the kind of dark that should only be reserved for a bad strip club or a good dive bar. TVs were behind the black glass. They gave a picture only rendition of the history of Dubai. Guy in the desert with a Falcon, some buildings and camels(kinda like a scene from Aladdin.), and the building of the tower. Apparently to the Dubinees(or whatever they're called) falcons, camels, and that specific tower are the only important things that have happened in the city's history. Various colored small arrows give you the feeling you are going up. Besides the ear popping I had no idea we were even moving. Doors open...

We walked out, through the rovolving door onto the overlook. I noticed it was much cooler with a decent breeze. The view was incredible. One could probably see about a mile or so out due to the haze. I looked up to see how much more there was to the building. I knew from the information pasted throughout the hallway to the elevator that there were more than 200 stories and we were on 124. No roof to the observation deck. Great, I thought to myself, Hope someone doesnt throw a penny from the top, I might be killed instantly. I didnt have a no have I ever had a good grip on my vertigo problem. I had to hold onto the railing and a pole that supported the structure to look down. Fuck me running, we were WAYYYY up there. Plenty of pictures and about 20 min go by. We are still walking around getting our $30 bucks worth. My buddy Jeff, while in Kuwait, got a tattoo. First off tattoos are against the law in this country. Second of all, he got a tattoo of Arabic writing on his calf. Wouldnt be too bad if he was wearing pants. The tattoo says In Shalla. Which translates to Gods will. The motto of Kuwait. Meaning it will happen when Allah is ready for it to happen. Cool tatto if you ask me. However, the Muslim population espically the die-hards hate it. They seem to think it offends their Religion. But then again just being from America offends them so to see an American with this on his calf in public sets a lot of them off. Needless to say we made a hasty exit after the angry Arabic noise and pointing. We were off back to the hotel.

The rest of the day included getting hammered on Duty Free shop booze in our room and swimming in the pool some. Jeff and I decided about 10 pm we were both tired and were ready for bed. Ryan wanted nothing to do with it. He layed in bed about 20 min before he said he was bored and was going downstairs for a while. Now let me explain the state Ry-dog was in. Incomprehensible speech, staggared gait, basically all the tell-tale signs of a drunk in public arrest. I passed out and Jeff did the same. RING RING RING. I pick up the phone in my drunken sleep. "Sir, you colleage is trying to get in the door, you need to let him in" a barely english speaking voice said. I hang up the phone and take a glance at the clock. 3:23 am. WTF?!?!? This dude has been out this long and made it back? I get up and head to the door. Have you ever seen a toddler that just got caught doing something he isnt supposed to be doing on the floor. The look they have when they look up. That, and the ENTIRE contents of Ryans wallet is what beholded me on the other side of that door. I picked the wallet stuff up and herded Ryan to his bed. About 40 min later I hear vomiting and spitting. "Dude, you ok?" I hear Jeff say from the other side of the room. More spitting..."Ryan stop spitting and go to the bathroom." Jeff shouts to drunky Mcdrunketon. "Fuck I thought to myself. That carpets trashed and the whole room is going to smell like puke in the morning. Ryan was up another time that night doing a HELL of an ab workout dry heaving into the toilet. It wasnt until the morning that Jeff and I figured out what had happened. Ryan put a chew in before he climbed in bed and passed out with it in. Yellow vomit and Copenhagen was all over the BLEACH WHITE DOWN COMFORTER. Shit. Thats gross and not going to be cheap to replace.

It took until noon to rise Ryan up and give him my patented hangover cure. He finally felt better and we headed to the water park. 5 hrs there and avoiding a fight with some Muslim punks over that tattoo concluded our day out and we headed back to the hotel. More drinking and some bar hopping. The demise of my sandles that Jeff was wearing and it was time to head to bed to get up early for the airport.

When we got back I had to get a new 90 day visa for the Kuwait customs to let me through, but we made it back to the apartments. My roommate was sent home for health reasons and I spent the remainder of the day cleaning up the month of mess he has made. His bathroom reaks of urine so bad that I have to keep the door closed so it doesnt stink up the whole place. Nasty dude. Feel sorry for his wife. I cant imagine what kind of state his house back home is in most of the time. After getting a little pee pee slap for leaving the country before I had residency, which the same dude is the one who signed off my request, life returned to normal. 48 on 48 off for now. Wondering whats going to happen with so many people going on vacation back home in the next two months is going to affect my days off. Oh well, nothing I can do about it right?

By now you might be wondering what the rethinking part of this blog is. Me too. In the last 48 hrs I have been thinking. What the hell am I doing here. Yeah the money is better than back home, but at what cost. I'm not getting any younger. I want a family eventually, but that takes building a relationship, marriage, kids. I dont know why I am avoiding it. Sometimes I think I am incapable of staying in one place for too long. I'm a homeowner now and I dont even live in it. I am making payments on a car I cant drive. Am I so screwed up that I can cope with the life that most people live everyday for their whole lives? Being in the middle east is the only thing that makes me feel safe. How fucked up is that? The only thing I know is the military and being away from home. When I am home all I want to do is leave, and when I'm gone all I want is to be home. It doesnt make any sense at all. Are there even people that know what I mean? Is there a counsler for re-entry and being happy with what you have? I am begining to regret this decision, but knowing deep down that being home working as a medic will make me miserable. $13.10 an hr is the most I could make. Running Granny from the nursing home to the hospital 24 hrs doesnt exactly want to make me pack my bags. What to do, What to do. Afghanistan is hiring. For a LOT of money. But am I well enough to handle that. I know I can endure, I always have. But at what cost? I know that I have changed and I will never be the same. How much more change will I go through taking that job. Granted I would be able to work part time and go to school. House and car paid off before I'm 30. Probably back on the crazy pills though. I just got off them. Maybe thats the problem. I know what your thinking, Talk to someone. Nope. Wont do it. Dont have it in me. Burying feelings is what I do best and what I know works...The decision is a tough one and something that I know eventually will all make sense. The time here is going to slow and its getting to me. Its the only explanation.

Updates and the Waterballoon incident

I hear some people would like updates on the happenings of the birds and wine making process. I will do my best to keep updates coming but if I don't know I wont post them. Birds: Since day two of the bird attack when I first got here a lot has changed. The day in question, one of those little fuckers were sitting on the cover to the fan mocking me. Just daring me to make a move. So I did. I grabbed the "green" cleaner that Clorox sells and sprayed a fine mist of its might potency toward it. This confused the bird and it lost all flight power. It took me 2 and a half hours to wrangle the little SOB up and shoo him outside. The problem lies with the shooing process. Although I view these winged spawns of satan to be resilient to most pain and abuse, the fact is they are little birds and cant take much of a beating. I had it pinned under a trash can upside down and scooped and flung the little bastard out the door onto the balcony. What I didn't take into account for was the strength in which I did it. The bird bounced off the railing and died. I felt bad, really bad. Even those these little death bombers were out to get me, it didn't help to see one die. I mean seriously I'm not cold hearted, I honestly felt bad. Not bad enough to lose sleep over it, or conduct a proper burial, but bad enough to watch how hard I treat things smaller than me.

The homemade wine: OK, now don't get me wrong, I am not one to turn down a free drink. In fact I believe you get your ass kicked for something like that. Or at least your man card revoked. I'm not sure and I'm not about to find out. Dave pours me a glass of his homemade concoction, a grape juice turned into wine by adding a little yeast and sugar. Set outside for a couple hours in the heat and then let it react for a day or so. He continues this process daily to feed his unquenchable habit for grandpas cough medicine. I dont really understand the disease, but apparently I have seen it rear its ugly head when its not fed on time. The first thing I notice is the clarity and color. The color resembles that of a grape Popsicle and the clarity can be best described as chicken stock. I know, I know, bad visual. Just picture off-purple chicken stock. With no acids and bases to clean it up and clear the cloudiness its not the most visually appetizing drink I have ever consumed. The smell is what put me back the most. If you took a jug of grape juice and lost it in your car for a month in the Phoenix summer, the smell would be about half, that and rancid bread. I dont know how the fuck this dude drinks this every time hes home. Shit, he might be drinking it at work. Must be why hes on the base with ONLY TCN's and Kuwaitis sitting at the Iraq border. The taste wasnt as bad as the smell at all. Like communion with no break in between. Grape juice and bread with an afterburn of bad vodka. The ONLY thing I got from this nasty beverage was a headache that lasted about 3 hrs. Guess I needed more than one glass right? Wrong. I wont ever ever ever try that again. I dont like drinking that much at all!

Its been a couple of weeks now, at least I think it has. Maybe only three days. Every blends together into a massive heat ridding nightmare after a while. So I was off work and my buddy J got the idea to use this waterballoon slingshot to pass some time. Great idea I thought to myself. What could go wrong. This is the part where you think something went wrong. It didnt. But the story still makes me laugh out loud everytime I think of it.

We were in J's room a couple floors up in our building and had his bedroom window open. The problem is Jeff faces a dirt lot with not a lot of foot traffic, or vehicle traffic for that matter. But we had already filled up 10 balloons and werent about to back down on such a terrific idea. So we got another guy and him and I held the frame of the window while J pulled the slingshot back. BOING!!! That balloon took off like a prom dress. Right in the middle of the dirt lot, SPLAT. After three or four of those untargeted weapons of wet destruction we headed down the hall to an empty apartment. This one faced the street. We continued our water flinging assault missing most of the cars and people and became bored of it. Thats when J got an idea.

Lets go to another building about 6 floors up from the one we were on. Hell yeah. Better targets and the advantage of height for distance we couldnt go wrong. We made our way over knowing full well that termination could be the result of something like this. But fuck it. What were we gong to do. Sit in our room and behave. No way.

With a new vantage point and nothing to stop our teenage maturity we filled more balloons. Sliding glass door this time was our catalyst. We set to aiming on a group of buses about 500 yds out. With J halfway across the room from the sliding door he let er fly. We all ducked in fear of being seen and being reported to the proper authorities. WHAM! Right on bus number one. What I have failed to mention thus far was at the end of the group of buses was a couch, on that couch were 3 TCNs set to guard the buses from what I could gather. They took off like a bomb just went off. Full sprint these dumbasses ran toward the bus we hit, looking around for damage or what the hell would've caused that noise. Laughing uncontrollably and close to wetting ourselves we reloaded and perused our attack on the buses, just to see how much they would react to our airborne assault. 5 or 6 balloons into the mayhem and confusion on their faces as the ran around staring up at the sky, we stopped. The look of utter confusion of nothing above them, but loud noises coming from the buses was priceless. I couldnt breath. I was laughing so hard I thought twice that I pissed myself. They had no idea where this was coming from. It was great.

Target two was out another window. We aimed carefully and sent two rounds as aiming practice out until we were sure it would be a direct hit. Target 2, a corrugated metal roof over the front entrance of a little shop 400 yrds out. The bang from balloon three was loud enough for us to hear, even that far up. The hadjis scattered like roaches running out of the shop to assess the damage. I dont know much about middle east living. But what I do know, is if something makes a really loud bang. I dont run out to check to see what it is. I make sure that Bang #1 is all there is. No bang 2 or 3 fuck that. I dont get paid enough to be a human bomb checker. After target 2 we decided its best to quit while we are ahead. No sense in blowing our cover and ruining all future missions.

The dog and the ECP

For those of you that have been following this, its been a while since I posted anything. Sorry about that. Working a lot and dont always have time to write a blog. I promise I will try and be better about it. It takes me a while to type one up. Bet you couldnt guess, even though my punctuation, spelling, and grammar are soooo fantastic.

I arrived home on the 20th of June (my bday) for two days off. I earned it just coming off a 6 days stretch. Only two calls to really speak of and nothing that required me really working too hard so besides 24 hrs on for 6 straight, it wasnt so bad. Call one was a repeat offender of whom my partner at the time had spoken to a couple of hours prior to dispatch making me leave the comfort of my AC. We rush out to the 100 bay wash rack (all vehicles leaving theater have to be completely cleaned to keep cross-bringing-shit-to-the-US down) for a unknown party bleeding from the face. "Well, I thought to myself, this better be more than a scratch with all this hype." Seriously the dispatch sends us out and guess who the fuck is right behind us full lights and sirens, the fucking fire dept. Thank god those guys are here! What would I do with an audience to preform for. I wouldn't be able to work without 5 people putting in their 2 cents.

Its a TCN who took a chain binder to the eyebrow. Per the translator, the guy was binding down chains on his truck and it snapped back. Thank god his face was there to stop the madness that might have ensued. A 4 mm laceration was what he had to show for it. Seriously Mahummad, I got up for this. For Christ sakes dude, its not even bleeding. "So, when did this happen to him?" I ask "G" our base translator. "After what sounds like the flem hauking competition at a old folks home, "Three hours ago." He replies. "He's from Pakastain." G throws in. Holy fucking shit, that changes everything, I'm going to give the best I have for this guy. "I didnt ask where he was from dude, I dont care, can he see out of both his eyes?" I snap back at G while I pick up the clipboard I just slammed in disgust up. Three hours? hmmm back in the states they wont touch anything after 6 hrs, and its not 176 thousand degrees C there and no real dust to speak of, so three hours here is about max for an "open" wound. "He can see but he says it hurts much" G replies as I am jotting down the info. Let me think about this for just a sec, you took a chain binder that was almost tight to the dome, no shit it hurts. I would like to meet the bad ass that says it tickles. "Let's get him in the truck and clean it up" I shout over the diesel motors at idle, as 15 sweat beads race down my back.

We put the guy on the stretcher in the back of the truck and start heading to the front gate. "G, tell him we dont take him to the hospital, the Kuwaitis will, we cant because hes a TCN." I say as I'm working on a set of vitals. B/P normal, pulse normal, SPo2 normal - so this guy isnt in really bad pain, look who doesnt get pain meds. Not like I have them and with the head injury I wouldnt give it anyway, but its the principal. We get to the dropoff point with the Kuwaitis about 15 miles away in no time and we are back to home base to do all the paperwork for a bullshit call. Fuck me these TCN's are ususally hardcore, not this pansie, he wont last in this line of work!

Back to the original story, get home on the 20th. I walk in my room and drop my bag and see a note on my desk in the room. Hey Bro, I found a dog in desert. Hes in the kitchen can you make sure he has water and food. Oh yeah, can you take him out to piss or just open the balcony door. He's wicked timid and nice Bro. Thanks!

WTF?!?!?!?! You have got to be shitting me. *pinch* nope its not a dream. There is a fucking loose desert dog in my kitchen. Wicked nice? Isnt that an oximoron? I remember signing a memo about apartment life in company housing. I must have missed the chapter where I am responsible for other peoples vagrant fucking pets. Aye Dios Mio. What the hell was this booze hound thinking. I have plans for the next two days off and it didnt envolve taking a german shepard that he found in the desert down to piss. This guy takes the cake on being a selfish prick. Nothing I can do right, the dog is here, and I'm not about to have the SPCA trying to get me extradited for animal crimes. So I head to the kitchen, with my knife in my hand. Bring it Cujo I'm ready for ya! I talk a big game but if he wouldve lunged I wouldve urinated all over myself in fear.

I eased the kitchen door open, ready to slam it at a moments notice. In the middle of the kitchen floor I saw what I can only attribute to the white trash hillbilly version of Rin Tin Tin. Hair all matted, skinny, bony, and a smell I would imagine a restaurant dumpster on a hot day smells. "Hey buddy" I whispered, with one foot still outside the door ready to make a break for it. As I scanned the kitchen floor, past the puddle of urine, half chewed dogfood, and chunks of hair, I noticed there was no water out for the little guy. Well, guess you need water little buddy. I strolled in like I owned the place trying to avoid the kennel like atmosphere that has now engulfed my kitchen. "Here ya go dude." I said as I set down a pan of water. He lapped at it like he hadnt drank in forever. I closed the kitchen door and headed to my room to take a little nap and make a call.

As I lay there trying to fall asleep and forget the fact I had another part of the root canal today to do, I thought back to a text msg from a couple of days ago. -I got a dog, found him in the desert. "Shit!" I said aloud, I forgot all about that. My roomate has had fido the matted wonder for two days now that he has been home and hasnt washed him at all?!?!? This guy should be the poster boy for animal rescues everywhere. Save a dog, then dont do shit about it. Its a catchy title right? I cant believe this guy. I have met some VERY interesting people in the military but this reject takes the cake. Wow, and someone let this upstanding member of society procreate? What a world we live in.

To sum it all up, I didnt let the dog out of the kitchen. I left the balcony door open for potty purposes and made sure he had food and water. I cleaned up a total of 5 puddles of urine from the kitchen floor during my two off. Dont worry though, Fido the matted wonder, didnt stop me from jetskiing and swimming in the pool. I know someone reading this thinks im cold hearted and shouldve hugged and loved this dog. Eat Me. Thats my response to you! Im not getting Kuwaiti super ticks, or whatever else this mutt was carrying.

ECP: So driving in this morning I had an accident. No, I didnt shart or pee a little, I hit something. The pop-up hydralics of the gate. Let me explain. Coming onto our base there is a gate. Obviously, right. There is always a gate outside a military base. Our base is special. There is ANOTHER gate inside the compound that we have to go through to get to the station. As I make the right to enter the ECP lane inside the compound, theres a sewage truck. I stop. I had to, what am I going to do rear end a poop-tanker. There wouldve been defecate everywhere. We dont need that kind of mess. So anyway the tanker pulls forward. I pull up, the specialist running said gate walks out. I slap our pass to enter that gate on the drivers window, being a smart-ass like always, he waves me through.

Let me explain the gate situation. When protected, these 4 ft tall solid steel 6" diameter poles come out of the ground. The thinking behind this is if a car runs towards the gate with evil in mind, these fantastic, well educated guards push a little button and the poles pop up stopping evil vehicle in its tracks. The way the gate is supposed to be run is with a 20 ft same size pole on an arm is supposed to be lowered. This drop down pole runs across the length of the lane into the base and is 5.5' off the ground and painted a bright yellow. The problem lies with the guards. This drop down pole requires them to put on a helmet and physically lift and bring down the gate. Too much work for these assholes. Its much easier to push a little button. Cant argue with that logic right? Wrong. If you are too lazy to physically lift a gate for 12 hrs. Maybe being a guard in the army isnt for you. Espically if you wave EMS through the gate WHEN THE FUCKING POSTS ARE OUT OF THE GROUND YOU JACKASS!!!!

So back to the story, he waves me through. I idle forward making sure not to fly through there and have some trigger happy 18 yr old open fire on the back of our rental car. Thats all I need. Medical emergency and the only people we have to rely on is a 25 min drive away. No way. As I idle forward I was paying attention to the gate guard. WHAM! 2009 GMC Envoy stopped dead in its tracks. It took me a min to figure out what happened. Did I just run over a TCN. I mean no one will really care but I hope his face didnt break the radiator support. I back up and they LOWER THE FUCKING POLES. We pull around to talk to them. They already have their 2nd Lt there. Great some dude who has been in the Army 2 weeks for the National Guard is here to help! YAY! "Well, our poles are ok, so there isnt anything we need to do." He says looking at the now dented front bumper. "Oh, your poles are ok?" I bark, pissed off. "Dont worry about us we are fine Sir"

End of it all, bumper dented, police report filed and pride bruised. All not my fault but its taken care of as far as I know.

UPDATE: Prior to posting this my roommate called asking me if I knew anyone that wanted the dog. He might be going home and doesnt want to fork over the $2500 to fly it home. Nope, I said to him and you better not leave that beast in our kitchen. Its nasty. Thats where I wash my clothes dude, seriously keep it in your room or something. Urine paw prints everywhere, and probably a land mine or two on the couch. Thats what I am expecting when I go home the day after tomorrow. Nasty. I cant wait until Al Coholic leaves! I need to move. Anyone need a roommate in Kuwait?

Toothache and the heat...

So here we are. Just over a week into June and already there hasnt been a day without a black flag. Here there are flag conditions that tell everyone how to curtail there day in regards to physical activity. All flag conditions take into account actual air temp and relative humidity. So there are moer than one factor to consider when talking about the heat here. 82-84 green flag, no real restrictions on activities. 85-87.9 yellow flag, 30 min rest for every 30 min of work. 86-89.9 red flag, 20 min work for 40 min rest. 90 and above calculated temp is black flag. 10 work for 50 min rest. All of these for hard work. IS there any other kind here in the desert. I think not. So every morning I'm on shift I walk the 500 yards to the shower trailers and see the red flag. 6 am and already red flag. Sweating and breathing in the blow dryer like heat and dust is just what I need after a shower. I havent felt clean in 3 weeks. Oh well its the price I pay for a decent paycheck right?

The air in the afternoon takes my breath away. Not like a beautiful sunset, or gazing upon a beautiful woman. More like getting kicked in the nuts with a golf shoe. Painful and neverending. I cant even go into the porta-johns for fear that I will pass out from heat stroke in the middle of taking a piss and drown. How would the open casket look? It would be like a 200lb smurf in a wooden box. Its a risk I am not willing to take. I will keep the foley cath in until the heat subsides. The risk of infection IS a risk I am willing to take.

So we head off this morning to wash the ambulance. First of all the dust like conditions equal that of a fall fog in CA. Low visibility and it constantly hanging around, remind me of a pity date with a fat chick. Cant see the movie too well and she just wont leave. I wont make that mistake again.
Arriving at the 30 bay washrack was uneventful and the TCNs(third country nationals) lead me to believe that we wouldnt have to get out and do it ourselves. I dont have to pump my own gas here, so why would I have to wash my own vehicle. WRONG! They fired up the pressure washer and handed me a hard hat. Seriously? A hard hat. Did I just drive up in the short bus??? Is my forhead larger than most and are my eyes too close together. NO! Then I do not require a hard hat. There is no risk of falling objects from above. This isnt a construction sight, so why in the hell do I have to wear that thing. Whatever...gimme that Ahmed.

I start pressure washing the rig and look around for something to scrub and some soap. Stupid me. Its a wash rack. There is nothing just pressurized water. I dont understand it, but fuck, its already like 110 and I am already soaked with sweat and miserable. We finish and head to get ice from the ice trailer. Where is the ice trailer located your wondering. In a gravel parking lot. Just like everything else. Dust all over the wet rig. Nice. fuck I am starting to hate this place.

Then the tooth pain begins. Just like EVERY other time I visit the dentist. I go in no pain and pretty soon thereafter I am in pain like I have never experienced before. They should really make a dirty bomb that gives the enemy tooth pain. I wouldnt be able to fight, hell I cant even sleep with the amount of pain I am in.

At first I was wondering if it was some kind of abcess that would fester and eventually kill me. At this point the relief of death is something I would welcome with open arms. But after careful inspection and swishing with Listerene, I have deduced that its an exposed nerve. Constant pain. Pain that nothing except narcotics and WAY too much motrin will kill. I havent slept more than 20 min at a time for a week now.

Go see a dentist, your saying to yourself. Yeah, if I didnt have to pay all of it out of pocket and THEN be reimbursed by my insurance I would already be there. And if my last job HR would've done their damn job and pay out my PTO ontime I wouldnt have the financial situation I have now. So I have to put it off until next Wed or so. I probably work AGAIN, so I hope this percocet lasts until then.

So far this week I have already worked 67 hrs. I thought I had a two full days off. I was leaving on Sunday morning looking forward to getting back to the apartment and going back to sleep for a while. While we were leaving I was informed that I HAVE to go get my CBR(chemical, biological, and radiological) warfare suit. The other base we cover is nestled between two oil and chemical refineries. Lots of nasty stuff stored there. So we headed off to the main base(Arifjan) to get it. Get fitted and return home. At 1200. I was leaving work at 7 am. Nice and quick process huh. Gotta love the government. Oh yeah, the main chemicals stored near that base the filter we have for our gas masks, wont work on. So carrying around $671 worth of gear will do me no good in the event of a spill. Nice!

So I get home and climb into bed. Sleep...percocet and mortin 800 mg down the hatch and nap time here i come. Just as I am beating the shit out of the sandman in deamland, RING RING RING. "Someone better be bleeding" I answer in my half awake state. "Hey Karl, We need you to come in and cover for a few hours tomorrow so we can go to a meeting" Great, my first full day off tomorrow is ruined. So much for sleeping in.

7 am I wake up to the alarm the next morning. Drag myself into the shower. Forget about the toebreaker 5000 and WHAM. Well I'm awake now. I jump in the Envoy and start heading to base. I get in the line about 8 am for searching. An hour and a half passes and I finally get to the front of the line. Place my phone on the passenger seat and head for the holding area. I finally make it to the station about 10 am just in time to let the boss leave and head to his meeting. "Hey, I tried to call you" He says looking up from his computer. I check my phone. In the time I was getting the vehicle searched, he called. Damn I missed it. "They pushed the meeting back until 1300. WTF? I cant go home now, well I can but i dont want to deal with the whole search lane again.So after its all said and done I dont get back home until 1630. Whole day off shot. Nothing I can do, its not the boss's fault. And now I am on 4 in a row still in aganizing pain from my tooth.

My first 48

So just returned home from the first shift working in Kuwait. I am working at the Kuwait Naval Base where there is a presence of less than 1000 military permanently working there. A large amount of transient come and go through there heading home or into the shit. Many different attitudes depending on where they are headed.
My first partner here was an older Hopi indian EMT who has lovenly been named Chief Wrongway. didnt really understand the name until he provided me with the base tour. I never thought it to be possible to get lost on a base the size of two Walmarts but now i know. I would drive but one i dont know where the hell im going, and two i dont know where the hell im going. Apparently neither does he but nonetheless i met a lot of people.
First day there i was going through the truck getting a good feel where everything is and realized that there isnt a drug box or a cardiac monitor on the rig. hmmmm i thought to myself, that pretty much takes out all the stuff i needed to be a medic. so we run BLS calls with an ambulance, paramedic, and a 40 min minimum transport time. shit, i hope everything goes ok. and hell if they want to pay me as a medic and work me as an EMT i'm cool with that. Cash has no real value on our base except for the PX so i headed with Chief WW over to the big base to get an Eagle cash card.
$150 on the card which allows me to purchase meals and the ever so important Green Bean coffee stand so its a need to have. Dinner and lunch run about $4.25 and breakfast $2.25. So its reasonable as far as im concerned. others here dont feel the same way and want everything for free. still im trying to figure that out.
the living conditions for the station are pretty nice a room with 4 bunks and two individual rooms with two bunks along with a day room take up the whole trailer. porta-johns are a short 50 yard walk away with the shower trailers being about 500 yards. really makes me take a second thought to showering at night before bed.
most people on base are happy to have us. very friendly and not too judgemental on us driving around or staying in quarters watching TV. so all in all its a pretty nice place to work. the word on the gravel, remember no real pavement there, is about a call a week is our norm but nah nah nah nah nah i already got one.
1830 after a less than satisfying meal of ham, scalloped potatos, and mixed veggies i retured with Cheif WW to the station to finish Clash of the Titans that we started watching before dinner. the radio went off for a call for uncontrolled bleeding at one of the personnel buildings just on the other side of the stage/movie theater compound. the base being so small i grabbed the jump bag and jogged my way over as CWW fired up the rig and followed.
i rounded the corner to see a Army guy kneeling on the gravel with a decent pool of blood on the ground. his back was to me so as i walked up putting my gloves on i am trying to figure out where it was coming from. i heard hit spitting and didnt take me long after that to figure it out. this outstanding member of our armed forces got the bright idea to smoke right after getting his wisdom teeth yanked out.WTF i thought to myself i would hit him in the mouth, but i dont want to get blood all over me.
"So whats going on today buddy" i asked as i set my bag down and started my paperwork. through his garbled gauze in mouth talk i found out that he got them yanked two days ago and didnt take the dentists word on not smoking for a couple of days and got an infection. saw the dentist today and had the infection removed and new sutures put in place to keep the open wound closed. he had some pain and took two of the painkillers that he was precribed and felt a little better.
I went to the gym today and was lifting after i ate and felt a pop in my mouth. "WAIT!" i stopped him. didnt the professional i went to school for 8 years to do this for a living fancy officer tell you no heavy lifting for a while until that heals? "Uh, yeah but it didnt hurt so I didnt I had to wait anymore." he says. "So, let me get this straight." you took it upon yourself to continue smoking, get and infection, get it fucking worked on today, and then went to the gym? "Yeah" holy fucking Christ all mighty. you have got to be fucking kidding me. This is the person I rely on to keep me safe at night while i sleep? So 24 year old high as a kite on Vicodin and doesnt listen when people, who know what the hell they are talking about, stand guard in one of the most angry areas of the world. "Get on the strecher" i barked as i helped him up.
The 40 min ride to the ER was unevenful. I called ahead and let the Doc know I was headed his way and what I had. Ran through the vitals and asked if there was anything he wanted me to do for this Gem of a person. "If you have time, throw a line in him." It was like a sign from above to teach this little bastard a lesson. 18 guage in the hand. Started my fluids and turned over care.
As CWW and myslef were headed out, i heard the dentist EXPLODE on this kid screaming about what a dumbass he was and he.....door closed. Back home we go.....man im tired

If your still reading this, I cant believe it. That was a complete waste of time for you, but thanks for readin. im going to take a nap.....