I am not alive... enough, I am not dead. I exist here in a waking, walking, sleeping coma. My dreams give me strength, my strength not reality. Today I slept for 15 hours, the result of a migraine ongoing for 3 days. The pain of it, giving me a reality that I could taste, metallic in my mouth. Tangible to me, pressure building in my head, punishing me for each of the things I look upon, for each thought in my head, for standing, sitting, moving, existing. Sleeping induced by prescribed medication my only escape from everything. As I lay in the infirmary watching the IV drip into my arm I could feel almost instantly the effects of the medicine as it entered my vein. For the 6 hours I lay there on that hospital bed, I cared not, for those 6 hours I lingered in and out of consciousness I wasn't afraid, I had no concept of responsibility. For 6 hours I was free (granted I could have been on a yellow submarine for all I cared).
I recall laying there between unconsciousness and consciousness, I remember talking to a JAG lawyer filling out a sworn statement about a photograph that hung on the wall in my office. He wasn't a bad guy, he was just a lawyer who happened to say to me that one, there are too many lawyers in the world (I concur), and two he wouldn't advise law school to anyone. Odd to hear that from an attorney. I also remember thinking this; if this is a different kind of war, then is it logical to assume the same rules that applied to conventional war apply here?
The articles in the LA times are what they are. A view of one possible reality, Scott Gold is a journalist his job is to write a story that is palatable for his audience. His audience is Los Angeles, and there they want to read of scandal to fuel the perception that “this war” is evil, and motivated by greed. I do not subscribe to the perception that Mr. Gold attempts to establish. From what I understand Mr. Gold has declined to accept our invitation to join us for a few weeks in the real war...figures. The base we are on is way outside of the comfort zone of the Green Zone, so we are rarely “blessed” with MSM.
I was talking to my wife the other night, she could hear the fatigue in my voice. 90+ days 12 hours + per day, not that it is physically demanding, but the strain on the eyes staring at the same data over and over. I think I just burnt out. I haven't had a migraine since 1999. I got one 3 days ago, it got worse by the hour and it felt like my left eye was going to pop out. Stubbornly I kept feeding the brain baby (Tic's nickname for headache) Aspirin, Tylenol, Excedrin etc. I was eating it like candy, yet the pain and the pressure kept getting worse. I finally went to the medical clinic on the morning of the 3rd day. I was given a few Ivs and some vitamin (S)leep, I was down for about 6 hours and given 24 hours SIQ (sick in quarters), first day off in 93 days. I have slept so much I am numb, after I finish this I plan on taking a nap. I feel guilty, I am resting while there is work to be done. I'll take this little vacation and keep my eyes closed as much as I can. Tomorrow is another day, one less day.
There have been as many changes here, at first they were all a shock to the system, now just more to deal with. In a lot of cases here the change has been good, in others I am indifferent. Indifference seems to be like armor to me here. I care about few things, and am bothered by even fewer; especially that which I cannot control. I cannot control much here. MAJ K, Thunder6, and I are all on different missions now, seperated by rank, title, and space. All of us lost something 2 weeks ago. This place seems darker now, not in any more danger than normal, yet I feel the loss. LT Irish leaves in 3 days for his vacation, I can't wait to hear of his tales of home. Each time someone leaves to go back "to the world" and I see them again I know that 3 weeks have elapsed, I look forward to seeing him in 3 weeks. 5 months 7 days...
“That which does not destroy us, makes us stronger.”