May 15, 1997 (Fayetteville, WV – Off Trail til 5/21)

Got a chance to kayak on the Meadow River today for some much needed hydro-therapy.

Sister Jamie made the drive here from Indiana today and we’ll make the trip back to Indiana tomorrow where I’ll be able to visit with some friends for a few days and see her graduate from Purdue.

Aquaholic

May 15, 2009

Hey Aquaholic,

Our good friend, Jordan, enlisted in the National Guard at age 37 a couple of years ago and is currently serving as a combat medic in Afghanistan near the Pakistan Border. The updates he sends make me feel a little less stressed out about my own problems. Here is the most recent:

Hello there,
I have a chance to use the internet…so, here’s a quick update about me, in no particular order:

–I’m alive and well

–my post is the last one in this area of Afghanistan before reaching Pakistan…it’s mountainous, remote, beautiful, hot, and hostile.  The people who aren’t trying to kill us are friendly.

–I’m on an embedded training team, i.e., a handful of Americans who are training and advising the Afghan National Army.  There’s a joke there, but my emails are being read by Google, the NSA, and Pakistanis in Quetta, where this traffic is being routed.  I think that Dick Cheney still has direct access, too.

–I’m never bored.

–I’m a medic.

–They call me “Doc.”  I’d like to say that they call me “Mr. Tibbs.” But they don’t.  They call me “Doc.”

–I’m a sergeant.  Don’t get too excited; apparently, there are many of us.

–a few nights ago, after a five-hour dismounted (walking, not driving) patrol to set an ambush, I weighed myself…I’m carrying 119 lbs of army accessories.

–I treat the local nationals who come to the gate of our outpost. I’m the only source of health care here…for the Americans, ANA, locals…everyone.  I call it “voodoo” medicine: me, a Merck manual, and a drug reference guide.

–Two days ago, a father carried his six-year-old son to the gate. After examining the boy, interviewing the father, and consulting the Merck manual, I explained to the father that the Arab doctors in Qalat told him the truth: his 6-year-old son has polio.

–Be happy for me, I’m alive and well and where I belong, here and now.

Be well,
Jordan

Jordan and me in our whitewater days

Jordan, the combat medic, in Afghanistan