I'm only happy when it rains.

Not me, although from all my recent complaining, some might say I am only happy when it rains. What I realized was that although the last blog I complained of soldiers being insanely wimpy when it comes to the standards (back pain, knee pain, etc) that we've all been through (and when someone with a desk job comes in repeatedly for back pain I lose a little bit of sympathy...been there, done that, watch your posture and get up and walk around a bit). The anger that I've recently had is not because of them. It is all due to our company commander and first sergeant (the officer in charge and the non-commissioned officer in charge of our company). They are an interesting duo. First, the commander is prior medic who throughout some path or other went the officer route. Word on the street was that he was a company commander before but was relieved of his duties. This is his second chance. Then there is the first sergeant. He initially comes off as a really cool guy. Very motivated. Very energetic. He helped me out on one or two things back before deployment and also likes to talk big about having our backs. Throughout the first few months of the deployment, there were some issues, but I kept trying to think in the positive such as "The company commander is trying." or "First Sergeant just needs to try to understand". But that gets old saying that over and over again. What we've found was a vicious cycle. Company commander is caught in a lie or there are direct issues concerning the aid station not discussed with the doctors. A meeting takes place. He states whole-hearted that he feels communication is an issue and he will try to do better at it. Next week, all is forgotten and a new back-handed issue comes to light. First Sergeant does help a lot, but what he does more is talk a lot of talk. He is very influential to the company commander which may be the root of some of the random decisions made in the past. But where the sergeant goes wrong is in his talk. Because we are officers and request a bit of respect, we, of course, must think we are "special" or "privileged." And because there is a good number of us working, we have plenty of time off which makes us "lazy". But of all the things he has called people, the worst was an injustice to one of our physician assistants (PA). This PA and first sergeant were great friends. In fact, first sergeant made a remark to me about them being "buddies". What happens a few months later?...first sergeant is spreading rumors that our PA is a racist (first sergeant is black with our PA being white). I've heard him speculate on many people whether they were racist or not which somehow makes me feel he is racist against whites. Our PA did nothing that would warrant these thoughts and was so offended and hurt by these accusations that all ties were broken. All because of running ones mouth inappropriately. In the end, I feel that they epitomize the song in the title (artist: Garbage if you don't know the song it's great, it's on my lost ipod shuffle). What seems to make them feel good is making others miserable.

As another follow up to the last email. I told the story of Sophie to one of my medics. Somehow she got the idea to draw everyone's "spirit animal". She drew me as a dog who was confused as she didn't know if she wanted the bone or to find a wild goat to eat. It's impressive. I'll try to remember to take a picture of it.

Otherwise today was interesting on call day. A word of advise to the men. Do not try to jump over a rope barrier! If you come down wrong with a leg on either side, you will suffer severe consequences.

Next blog: no more complaining...it will be a recap of my last couple weeks in Rustamiyah (about a month overdue)