New York Times article
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
October
Friday, September 10, 2010
BOOK ALERT!
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Prop 8 overturned
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Last one
The door to my own CHU.
Inside.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Thursday, July 1, 2010
1 July
Good People
BY W. S. MERWIN
For A Coming Extinction
From "Lice", 1967
Now that we are sinding you to The End
That great god
Tell him
That we who follow you invented forgiveness
And forgive nothing
I write as though you could understand
And I could say it
One must always pretend something
Among the dying
When you have left the seas nodding on their stalks
Empty of you
Tell him that we were made
On another day
The bewilderment will diminish like an echo
Winding along your inner mountains
Unheard by us
And find its way out
Leaving behind it the future
Dead
And ours
When you will not see again
The whale calves trying the light
Consider what you will find in the black garden
And its court
The sea cows the Great Auks the gorillas
The irreplaceable hosts ranged countless
And fore-ordaining as stars
Our sacrifices
Join your work to theirs
Tell him
That it is we who are important
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Bagdad
Sunday, April 11, 2010
al Muthana
al Muthana
The roof of my aid station leaks.
Mangy, limping cats huddle under the hummvees.
Cockroaches and lizards emerge
From the cracks in my walls at dusk.
The air smells of burning trash,
My eyes water and my
Throat burns.
Next door, the Iraqi general breeds beautiful
White long-tailed chickens.
They murmur and cluck to each other as they
Pace along the high concrete walls.
I run in the morning, I listen to the
Call To Prayer and the soft coo of
Morning Doves.
At night, bats twirl and dive under
The sodium light.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Dog tags
You were named after a fish.
Flashing silver in the ocean,
Slipping up rivers to
Sun dappled mountain streams.
Your birthday, just shy of twenty.
A teenager.
A boy.
Your blood type, which we
Pumped into your broken body for an hour.
Praying for a helicopter
That never came.
Your religion.
One tag said "Buddhist",
The other, "Surfer".
I imagine you as you were- white teeth
In a young, tan face. A seashell necklace.
Two good legs.
A dog. A girlfriend. A fire on the beach.
I wonder what your parents thought,
The ones who named you for a fish,
When you came to them,
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
R and R
We repainted and took out our "new" canoe- a '63 Chestnut Deer. It's beautiful. I'm in love.
Please take a moment to notice the dearth of bicycles in the above picture.
My sister Emily came up, and we spent St Patty's day at an Irish pub. It was great to see her.
It took 4 days travelling to get back to Taji. I'm moving to my new unit in less than a week so will try to spend the next few days catching up on sleep and packing.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Taji
I've been with my current medical unit for a little over a year, and have gotten pretty comfortable with my co-workers and will miss the mentorship that I receive here. I'll also miss the medics, who are well trained and talented. I have made some friends and enjoy the camaraderie of working with a variety of medical providers (we've got a dentist, physical therapist, psychologist, nurse, 2 doctors and 2 PAs in this unit). I'll be the sole medical provider over there, which will be a challenge, but I think it will also be exciting in that way.
Anyway, before the new marching orders came through, I did take a couple pictures of the outside of our clinic. This is where we park our "ambulances". These vehicles are called M-RAPs (Mine Resistant Ambush Protected) and they're about as comfortable as they look:
Anyway, for those of you who keep in touch with me via snail-mail, please hold your letters and packages until I get settled in to my new digs. If you want my new address, please email and I'll send it to you as soon as I know it.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Gratitude
To all my friends: From care packages to post cards to simple e-mails; all your outreaching makes a huge difference in my life. I treasure each and everything I get from you. You make all this bearable. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
We've been busy lately. Lots of sick people including a guy who went off to Africa for R&R and came back with malaria. Didn't see a lot of malaria during my rotations in Alaska. Other than that, I'm enjoying having my room to myself for a couple weeks while my bipolar roomate is away. I'm too old to share a small living space with someone totally lacking in social skills. I suppose there is some lesson in this experience- some life skill I should be gaining from this personal trial. I'm trying to learn it. I'm trying to become a better, more patient and understanding person. I guess I've got 7 more months to work at it. Thanks, universe. Not everyone gets such a unique chance to improve themself.
3 more weeks until I go home for R&R.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
1/27
We've moved to a smaller camp, about 25 miles outside of Baghdad. We're busier here because we're farther away from the main hospital. There aren't as many mortar attacks, but the surrounding roads are more dangerous so we see more victims of IEDs (Improvised Explosive Device- roadside bombs that target vehicles). I work 12 hrs a day, 7 days a week. In my spare time I read paperback mystery novels and work out at the dingy little gym. People have been sending me letters and packages, which have been awesome. Mainly I sleep. If I could sleep through the next seven months, I would.
The weather is chilly- it was 30 degrees this morning when I walked to breakfast- but I'm not complaining. It'll be hot enough soon enough. People are starting to take their mid-tour leave and it's pretty much the topic of most conversations. I go in 4 1/2 weeks and I cannot wait. I can't wait to eat something besides wilted salad and soggy vegetables. I can't wait to wear something besides a uniform and to walk around without a rifle.
The connectivity here isn't as good as it was in Baghdad, so pictures take forever to load up. Not that there's much to take pictures of. Sand and 15' high concrete T-walls. Sand and metal reinforced buildings. Sand. But, because of the smoke (something here is always burning and it usually stinks) we do have some nice sunrises/sunsets. I'll try to take pictures and post them when I'm home in March.
Love to everyone and thanks for the letters, packages and just good thoughts. It means a lot.