Murfph.

Nathan Price asked me if I had a blog. I've been meaning to add an update for awhile, now, so I figured I'd get off my duff and do so. I haven't, because I'm tired of whiny, bitchy blogs that have nothing positive in them. (chuckle) And lately, I've been feeling a lil of everything.

Thanksgiving was wonderful. It was the first Thanksgiving I'd spent with my family in seven years -- basically, since I'd joined the military. It was an intimate affair with just my mother, her mother, and my brother, but it still felt great. I spent a lil time with my father and his new family, as well, though I'm still getting used to having a 'sister' and another 'brother.

Christmas was good, too. As usual, we had the traditional shrimp gumbo at Nanny's, and this time around, she taught Luke and I how to make it. My brother brags that his pot of gumbo was better than mine, but I couldn't really tell the difference. Then again, I've never been that critical of taste. It was good to see the families, from uncles and cousins and new in-laws within the clan, to the newest little ones.

New Year's was something special, and something different, altogether. A friend I'd known for years online, took me up on an offer to come visit during the New Year's holidays. Laura and I had talked, and often, online, but it was our first time to meet, and it was wonderful. We have quite a bit in common, and we both enjoy talking about everything under the sun with one another, from the latest studies in anthropology to the silliness of the average human. I had a thoroughly Great time, and we were both saddened to have to part one another's company. We both acknowledge that long-distance relationships are misery on everyone, so we're remaining good friends, but we both wish for more. Perhaps, in due time...

Now, here's a frustrating one for ya... In October, I wrenched something inside my hip one night while I was stretching. It hurt, but I figured it was no big deal, and it would eventually heal. In November, during my five-year physical for the Army, I mentioned it to the screener, and he dutifully put it into the computer; and that was it. In December, I went to the medics, and told them it was getting worse, and it hurt to pivot off of that hip, to use my groin muscles too strongly (such as during hand-to-hand combat, to lock an opponent down), and so on. The Physician's Assistant prescribed enough muscle relaxers to knock a horse over, and an anti-inflammatory, and gave me a couple of weeks to heal up.

Last week, it hurt so bad that I had to lay on the floor of my apartment, after one run, and cry for a half hour, before I could control myself. I went back to the medics the next day, but the Physician's Assistant was out in the field, but if I left a list of symptoms, she would do what she could, if I came back later. When I returned, I was given a list by the PA that said, quite literally, not to do those things I had listed that hurt (and only those things that hurt) for a week. Oh, and her assistant managed to schedule an appointment with the PA, so that I could perhaps go in to see a specialist about what was hurting my hip.

So... I went in today to see the PA, and after an exhausting interview by one of her assistants, I finally got to talk with her. Only instead of referring me to an expert, she wanted to get a pelvic and lumbar X-ray (not a problem) and palpate my hip herself (oh, Now you want to do that?) -- only I was in the wrong uniform, so could I please return some time with the proper uniform, so that she could check out my hip while I was wearing shorts, instead of the Army's combat uniform?

I've been exhausted, the last few days, maybe from fighting this... whatever it is. One of the PA's assistants took my blood pressure and pulse. I know it by heart, and I'm rarely wrong; it's practically text-book, every time: 120/80, 60bpm. It was a trifle low, and my temperature was about a degree lower than it should be, but otherwise, that was all the examination I got, today. Kinda frustrating.

Laura told me that it's rather normal in the civilian world, too, but I have my doubts.

I asked the PA while I was at it, how many patients a day she saw, and how many patients she was responsible for. Turns out, she's the only PA for the entire brigade, about 4,000 Soldiers. Lately, she's been seeing close to 60 Soldiers a day, for everything from chest colds to sports injuries, skin conditions to 24-hour bugs. In the Army, if it's not enough to send you to the hospital (life, limb, or eyesight), then the PA and his or her retinue of assistants see you.

The assistants are all combat-trained emergency medics; the guys and girls that go into a warzone and haul out the wounded, keeping them alive long enough to get them to the nearest field surgeons.

Just on a hunch, I asked one of the assistants how many of the patients were sports-related injuries, each day. She said that close to 80% of all the patients they were seeing were probably sports-related injuries -- sprained ankles, twisted knees, and so on. It makes me wonder how much money the Veteran's Administration would save on treating Soldiers, if the Active Duty Army component spent a little more money to treat (and prevent!) the day-to-day garrison injuries that dominate an Aid Station in the military, when it's not at war...

So! Life goes on. I've finally got a gaming group, again, so you can expect more fiction and posts, soon enough. I'm excited, about that. I'm also enjoying tidying up my apartment, and going through all my Army stuff. The Fourth of July is my projected 'get out of the Army' day, and it's nice to go through all my old junk, and realize I won't be needing half of it, and the other half isn't far behind it.

On the whole, I'm just plumb tired. I'm starting to think I could use a vacation. It'd be nice. I haven't really taken a vacation in the seven years I've been in the Army. Not once, have I taken leave just for myself, and the closest I ever came was a few years ago, taking a month off to try and win my wife back (which didn't work), and two weeks after that to get away from her, for my ten-year reunion. Urf.

I suddenly feel like I need a drink...