Motion Sick

I took the bus to South Camp. Almost immediately upon leaving North Camp, I became extremely motion sick. I mean, we couldn't have been 2 miles away from the gate before I started sweating and feeling nauseous. 

I took a Dramamine and waited.

I wasn't getting better. In fact, I was getting worse. I had to puke. So I started looking around for things to puke in, but without really looking around because looking around make me feel more sick. 

There was a box full of boxed lunches close by. I grabbed a boxed lunch and opened it. The smell of sandwiches didn't do much for my nausea. I gripped on to that little cardboard box for about 15 minutes saying little silent prayers that I wouldn't have to puke in it. 

But I puked. I puked 4 times into that little cardboard box. 

Something funny about cardboard boxes, they're not very water tight. I ended up with water/puke all over my jeans and on the floor of the bus. Thank god I didn't have time for breakfast, so they only thing I had in me to throw up was water. 

This is where my vomit ended up. At least I missed my cute shoes.

 

I felt incredibly better after I puked. Good enough to close my eyes and let the Dramamine take me to sleep. 

Party Animal

 

I may or may not have just feasted on this small pizza and order of onion rings while watching Big Bang Theory season 2.

I know how to party.

I have an awful stomach ache. Because, of course, I was clearly obligated to eat all the food I ordered. Obediently, I tore it up in record time.

So now I'm laying in my little bed with a distended belly, lamenting on my poor decisions. I don't think my planned 4 mile run is going to be long enough tomorrow morning to make up for the damage I just did.

I'm going to go to bed early now, on the first night of the weekend.

Like I said, party animal.

Thanks, Larry

The Dispensary is right next to the fire station. Most of the firefighters are Egyptians. I made friends with one of them. Well, friends is kind of a weird word to use. One of the fire fighters and I have a friendly business relationship where we get things for each other. He's a guy who knows how to get things, and I am a Soldier who knows how to get things. A give take kind of friendship. But it works. We are very useful to each other.

 

Except I'm a jerk, and when I first met him 8 months ago, I couldn't remember his name for the life of me. So I started calling him Larry the T-shirt Guy every time I referenced him. He is a t-shirt designer on the side. Of course, now I know his name, but I still refer to him as Larry. Old habits die hard... and I am a jerk.

 

My tour here is almost over (yay!) so he had a little gift made for me as a going away present. It's a tin plate with my company, name and title engraved into it. In case you don't have eyes. I'm going to hang it in the office in my house when I get home with the other plaques I've gotten from past duty assignments.

 

I was really surprised! This is such a nice gesture!

 

 

Very cool. Thanks, Larry. I hope the next Lead Medic is someone who knows how to get things, too, so the business relationship doesn't end here!

Record PT Test

I'm not redeployed yet, but I'm pretty sure PT is a safe subject to talk about.

 

I took my biannual record PT test today. I wasn't really feeling it. You know what I mean, like I wasn't concerned that I would fail, or even totally bomb an event. I just didn't feel like doing it. When I did my first sit up, I knew I wasn't going to break any world records today. I definitely didn't break any land speed records on my 2 mile run. But I scraped by on a 271.

 

 

One of these days I'd like to score 90% in my run. Someday... when I'm in the next age group and the standard drops a little.

I won't be in that next age group until I'm 32. I'm in the worst possible age group right now. All the maximum reps and run times are the highest to score 100%. For some reason the Army is convinced Soldiers are in better shape at 27-31 than at 18 years of age. I've been in the Army for 8 years, which means the Army has abused by body for 8 years. I may be 30, but the wear and tear the Army has put on my body puts me right around 36!

People say there isn't a birthday to look forward to after you turn 21-- bullshit. If you're in the Army, 32 is a pretty important birthday!