Dirty Water
Somehow I didn't find the time to write yesterday. I was busy playing with all my new toys. I got two packages the other day containing a new laptop, webcam, My Teddy-Bear(the other one died in the fire), pictures of my hubby, a camping lantern, and lots of other goodies. I'm feeling pretty darn good right now.
I met my current roommate while I was with the replacement company at Ft. Stewart. She got there about two weeks after I did. Her whole family came with her to drop her off, two vehicles full. They even brought the family dog, much to the amusement of the other soldiers there. She's a Charlie med who is on a month-long rotation here at FOB St. Michael's. I remember when they came in I only saw one of the three girls who came in for this month's rotation. She asked me where they could stay. We only had one room open at the time so two of them could stay in there. I said the one girl who was working night shift could sleep in my room with me since at the time I was working days. Much to my surprise, I saw the next day that it was the girl I had met in Stewart. She's been good company, a little messy, but great to talk with. She is politically conservative and I am politically liberal, but we get along. Too bad the rest of the country couldn't do that.
She's always telling me stories of what goes on over in the trauma center. A few days ago she went out on a humanitarian mission. They visited a few homes and distributed some medicines. She was treating this one little girl, trying to figure out what was wrong with her. After about ten minutes of relaying back and forth through interpreters, she discovered that she had been drinking sewage water from the streets. A week before that, she and a few other medics treated a little boy who had been shot in the foot. The boy looked about 8 years old, but they found out through the interpreter that he was actually 13. He didn't cry once while he was there. The medics treated the boy and found that he needed immediate surgery to save his foot. They made a call to Brigade to get him medivaced out to the hospital in Baghdad, but were told no. The boy had to go to the local hospital in Mahmudiyah, where he would probably loose his foot and possibly die from infection. His father was only concerned about his car that the patrol destroyed. The only question he ever asked was if he would be compensated for his vehicle.
I met my current roommate while I was with the replacement company at Ft. Stewart. She got there about two weeks after I did. Her whole family came with her to drop her off, two vehicles full. They even brought the family dog, much to the amusement of the other soldiers there. She's a Charlie med who is on a month-long rotation here at FOB St. Michael's. I remember when they came in I only saw one of the three girls who came in for this month's rotation. She asked me where they could stay. We only had one room open at the time so two of them could stay in there. I said the one girl who was working night shift could sleep in my room with me since at the time I was working days. Much to my surprise, I saw the next day that it was the girl I had met in Stewart. She's been good company, a little messy, but great to talk with. She is politically conservative and I am politically liberal, but we get along. Too bad the rest of the country couldn't do that.
She's always telling me stories of what goes on over in the trauma center. A few days ago she went out on a humanitarian mission. They visited a few homes and distributed some medicines. She was treating this one little girl, trying to figure out what was wrong with her. After about ten minutes of relaying back and forth through interpreters, she discovered that she had been drinking sewage water from the streets. A week before that, she and a few other medics treated a little boy who had been shot in the foot. The boy looked about 8 years old, but they found out through the interpreter that he was actually 13. He didn't cry once while he was there. The medics treated the boy and found that he needed immediate surgery to save his foot. They made a call to Brigade to get him medivaced out to the hospital in Baghdad, but were told no. The boy had to go to the local hospital in Mahmudiyah, where he would probably loose his foot and possibly die from infection. His father was only concerned about his car that the patrol destroyed. The only question he ever asked was if he would be compensated for his vehicle.
posted by Skullcrush3r at 12:29 PM
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