Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Wide Awake

I'm wide awake; darkness surrounds me in my bed.  It's 1:23 AM.  A faint light barely illuminates a worn "Indiana Jones" poster on the opposite side of the room.  Harrison Ford, decked out in his brown leather cap and jacket, is peering forward with eyes of adventure; a slight smirk of confidence exudes.  As a child "Indy" was nothing less than an immortalized hero. Epic daring adventures that paid off in fortunes beyond imagination; don't forget the beautiful woman.  That childhood exhilaration still flows through my veins; just much more subdued.  It's what pushes me out of airplanes and other adrenaline sports as well as motivates me today; my life is an endless quest.  I'll never stop searching for my "arc" and my hope is my children will take note and search for theirs; as my father did for me.
The clock strikes 8 AM, my obnoxious iPhone alarm unleashes its fury; I'm awake.  IPod audio ecstasy is set to Bon Jovi, I infuse a red bull, grab my courage, and start my day with an imitated smirk of confidence.
No trauma patients came in overnight, so this morning we focused on a review of current clinical practice guidelines (CPG's).  I presented the orthopedic related ones and the general surgeons the rest. The last 11+ year have been a massive experiment in traumatic medicine and it's still ongoing. Our treatment modalities have been refined and technology has been innovated.  Fortunately military medicine has not been selfish as all civilian trauma centers throughout the world have reaped the benefits in some fashion or another.  Consider this: patient survival following traumatic war injury and limb salvage has improved exponentially.  Our training and available resources have brought us out of the stone ages of the Vietnam era. The T.V. Show M.A.S.H, once a reality of military medicine, is now a historical medical documentary which happens to be funny as shit; especially when seen from my perspective currently.
Joe J and I hit the gym; it’s 110 degrees today. Hints of "Ramadan" surround us in the eyes of FOB Afghan's, AK-47's in their hands; we proceed with respect.  Following our workout we quickly head back to the barrack for closed door hydration.
As I'm relaxing in the comfort of my shack when one of our medics inform me someone wants to meet me in the FST. As I enter, there is a man in a green polo shirt with khaki shorts sitting on a chair talking to a nurse in our unit. He's appears slightly unkempt, lightly bearded, and muscular.  I walk over and I'm introduced by the nurse to the man. He stands up, shoots me a strong smile and extends out his hand to me. I reciprocate and we mutually flex our manhood with a strong handshake. He introduces himself and informs me he's been waiting to meet me; a special forces medic. After some discussion I learn about him, his unit and the mutually reciprocating relationship between them and myself as the base orthopedic surgeon. I've been informed of this relationship in the past and look forward to it; I'm comforted to know their on my side. I feel confident many interesting experiences will come with it.  He leaves with another strong handshake and disappears out the door.
The day is losing out to night, angels have protected our brothers and sisters today as they win the daily ethereal war above; Heaven: 1, Hell: 0
Talk to you soon

May angels watch over my family. I love you.


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