Making Waves

What happens when you put a group of talented, stubborn individuals together in a small cage with no real access to the outside and very little work to be done? Petty issues become MUCH larger ones. This is doubly true in the Air Force where the "institutionalized" interact regularly with folks like us, who were trained by, and think like, the rest of the surrounding world. That sets the stage for some rather interesting confrontations. Last week was an excellent case in point. I'll try to summarize to avoid making this blog several pages long.

Normally, the higher-ranking physicians are given single rooms (called POD's) while deployed. However, due to some odd circumstances and the inability of our command to make difficult decisions, I room with the Ortho guy and one of the Flight docs in a standard dorm room (we are the only three Majors living MOD's). I have actually enjoyed the company and we plan to keep this arrangement even when single rooms again become available. Unfortunately, and for reasons none can explain, we were given the worst room in the building (nearest the loud, broken door we all used to enter/exit, smaller than all other rooms and containing important communication equipment that prevented us from sleeping away from the wall bordering the hallway). This seemed odd at first, but we settled in nonetheless. The problem with this plan was that some of the guys work all night and literally come and go EVERY hour, all day long. So, after numerous nights of waking up EACH hour, I finally tried sleeping with earplugs. It worked, but I was unable to hear my relatively quiet pager when someone needed to speak with me. Clearly, a remedy was in order.

Our MOD has four unoccupied rooms for transient personnel that need a bed for 1-2 nights as they pass through (typically 1-2 times monthly). Inexplicably, these are some of the largest and quietest rooms, located in the center of the MOD. So, we asked our MOD Chief (don't even ask, every noun or thing has at least one person as its Chief) if he minded us switching rooms and allowing the infrequent transient the pleasure of our ridiculous room. We explained our jobs and the need for sleep without earplug use and he agreed that it made sense. So, on a Sunday afternoon, we moved our lockers, shelves and bags from room 16 down to lucky number 13. And for three days, we had the best, most restful sleep of our short tour thus far.

What could be wrong with this? Ahhhh, never forget the ego of some senior NCO's (which has been known to bruise easier than a ripe peach). Unbeknownst to our group, one of the senior NCO's in our EMEDS (who naturally has his own room in a POD) is "in charge" of room assignments and was extremely unpleased with our callous decision to "bypass" his authority by not asking his permission first. I tried to reason (first mistake) with him, explaining that no one had alerted us of his "reign" over the rooms. I stated that, frankly, it had never occurred to any of us to ask someone who wasn't our boss and didn't live in the MOD if they would permit the move. We had asked the MOD Chief and were given permission. To no avail. Our commander was quietly (and of course, behind closed doors) briefed of the situation by said NCO and requested (by email of course, direct confrontation is to be avoided at all cost) that we return to our original room. I hope you're enjoying the "rational thought" involved in these decisions!

Dutifully, we moved back as directed and then requested (through the above-mentioned senior NCO) a room change with Services (an ironic name, don't you think?). In typically mature fashion, he waited three days before making this request with Services....there must be punitive consequences after all. But, a week later, we were finally "granted" permission to change rooms.....right back into room 13 where we had moved in the first place!! If any of you wonder why the various government services take so long to execute relatively simple tasks, this should shed some light on the processes involved. After three moves in less than two weeks, here is a picture of me reading on the couch (which was already in our room but apparently not a part of the standard floor plan, per our NCO, and therefore not authorized to be on the floor).

On a lighter note, we have been engaged in a very competitive ping pong tournament over the past week. The finals will be later this week and most games draw at least 6-8 spectators as a cheering section. Thanks to Dad for purchasing a table when I was a teenager and having a several-month match that honed my skills! I think tonight's match is the quarterfinals....

We were also blessed with a very rare award by one of the Army infantry battalions for our care of their soldiers. They presented it in their traditional cavalry uniforms, complete with riding hats. Very cool. It may be hard to read this picture, but it was a VERY special honor to our EMEDS and was only the 23rd such award this group has ever given (remember, the Army is over 200 years old).

Finally, we had our monthly 5K race (on the base roads) yesterday morning that was a great time. We received t-shirts and water bottles from the sponsor (one of the huge contracting companies here) and enjoyed the fleeting break in the weather. Less than an hour after completion, the dust descended (literally) like a fog bank in San Francisco with visibility of ~150 feet that would have cancelled the race. Today, the ground and all outdoor surfaces are covered in a layer of dust reminiscent of the ash after Mt. St. Helens erupted!

Until next week...

Always in love with you Cita!!