Best Care Anywhere!

You might be a nurse if you firmly believe that "too stupid to live" should be a diagnosis.

~Author Unknown

One of the more meaningful missions we carry out is Aeromedical Evacuation. As a cargo plane, we are uniquely suited to carry medical patients, and as a tactical airlifter, we can get into places that jets just can't go. We routinely practice landing on dirt runways and short airfields, all in preparation for combat delivery of troops and supplies, and the extraction of casualties under hostile conditions.

Having the mode of transportation is only half the solution. The other half is having the trained medical staff who are able to monitor and treat patients as we rush them from the craziness of the combat zone to established medical treatment facilities. Flying patients with a variety of wounds or illnesses across the country, or to another part of the world means dealing with a whole host of issues that ambulance travel never encounters. For one, you can't get out. It's noisy, the cabin altitude is generally higher than on the ground, and there are some illness or wounds that require special treatment when oxygen sufficiency is an issue.

The Air Force has teams of trained medical technicians and nurses who fly with patients during transport, monitoring their conditions, and ready to administer emergency treatment should the need arise. My unit has a squadron of medical personnel who have been as busy and tasked as anyone since 9/11, supporting the Global War on Terrorism.

About once a month we take a group out on a cross-country weekend, providing them an airplane and the actual flying experience with which to practice their craft. This particular weekend we were scheduled for a trip that would take us to Charleston, SC, spend the night, then fly down to St. Croix, in the Virgin Islands, then back home to Pittsburgh. All told, about 12 hours of flying in three days. Unfortunately, about two days from departure, a hurricane popped up heading for St. Croix, so that leg of the trip had to be drastically changed. Instead, our mystical planners came up with us leaving late Friday afternoon, flying to Houston, spending the night, flying the next day to Charleston, then back home. Not nearly the flying time we originally had planned, but some decent last-minute destinations where we could at least expect a good meal or two.

So Friday was a late afternoon take-off and a four hour flight to Houston. With the hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico, the low pressure system left us with a nice headwind all the way, turning a 3-3/4 hour trip into almost 4-1/2. The toughest part of the trip is always getting from the airplane to the hotel, and with a flight crew and aeromedical team, the task is all the more complicated. We had good arrangements though, and the Air National Guard unit we parked at had two vans ready and waiting for us, allowing a fairly speedy and expeditious trip to the hotel.

Once at the hotel, we checked in and met briefly to discuss plans for the evening and the next morning. Typically aircrew and medical crew go their separate ways. It's just the nature of the beast. Nurses are busy people and they typically breeze up to the squadron about the time they need to board the plane, and once airborne, they are pretty busy with their training. We really don't get much interaction unless we go out on a weekend trip. Even then the two groups tend to stick with who they know. Friday night was no exception. A bunch of the aircrew decided to head to a Cowboy bar called "Big Texas," and the med techs all went their own way. I personally was beat, and since it was already almost 11 pm back home, my body clock begged me to call it a night, which I did.

Apparently "Big Texas" was a great bar and one to make a note to visit on the next trip. The guys talked non-stop about their adventures at the bar most of the flight to Charleston Saturday. The weather was a bit better and with a tail wind all the way, we made it to South Carolina in about 3 hours. We were not so lucky with transportation this day, as we were treated to a bus ride by the base transportation folks, but the driver had no idea where the hotel was. After driving round and round for over an hour, he finally figured it out and dropped us off in front of a Hampton Inn just outside the base. Ominously, his last words upon our debarkation was, "Who did you piss off? I've been here for four years and never brought anyone to this hotel." Great!

Actually the hotel was fine, so besides the hidden location, we were still doing okay. Since we were in South Carolina, we decided to go for sea food, and headed off to a restaurant called, "the Noisy Oyster." Nice place, but the blackened Tuna I had was more sushi than steak, so I was pretty disappointed with the meal. Everyone else enjoyed theirs though, so what do I know about sea food?

Interestingly enough, over the course of the meal just about everyone on the plane ended up finding their way to the same restaurant. I guess the desk clerk did a good job selling the place. I hope he got a commission...

The highlight of the trip was the cab ride back to the hotel. As soon as we pulled away from the curb, the taxi driver, a gentleman of eastern-carribean african descent started ranting about Barack Obama, the Catholic Church, and that he-devil, John McCain. By the time we got up to full speed, this guy was screaming at us, declaring he was an ordained street minister, a volunteer policeman, and could speak in tongues, which he happily demonstrated for us. The four of us sat in shock for the first 15 minutes or so, but eventually got tired of all the yelling and started talking back to this guy, challenging his assertions, though mostly without success. (Did you know that the Catholic Church uses strippers in its services? Me neither! I'm definitely going to talk to my priest about it and find out which Mass has the good stuff!) I have never been so glad for the end of a car ride in my entire life.

Sunday had more great weather, and it was an easy 2 hour trip back home. The medical crew ran one last training exercise in the back, with some of their members getting an evaluation. One med tech, an extra for Sunday's mission, came up and sat on the deck with us, taking pictures and relaxing.

All in all, it was a good weekend trip. The plane stayed healthy, the weather was fairly decent everywhere we went, the hotels were nice, the med techs got their training, and the crew worked well together. Wish they all went so smoothly.

Feeling like a she's been hit by a car... No, really!

The hardest part of raising a child is teaching them to ride bicycles. A shaky child on a bicycle for the first time needs both support and freedom. The realization that this is what the child will always need can hit hard.

~Sloan Wilson

There's a certain feeling that only parents get to experience, and it's never under the best of circumstances. That feeling is the intense rush of adrenaline that suffuses your body when you answer the phone and someone informs you that a son or daughter has just been involved in a car accident.

I've been on both sides of this experience, once as a kid, and the other, twice now, as the parent. Experiencing the car accident as a newly minted teenage driver is nothing like experiencing a car accident as a parent, knowing what a car accident can do, and not knowing exactly what has happened to the child you've been taking care of for her entire life.

As the kid, I knew it was a bad thing that had happened, but it happened to me, and since I was aware of how I felt, everything else was no big deal. I now know that my parents were scared out of their wits until the moment they saw me and could see for themselves what was what, and thankfully, that I was going to be alright. Of course after they figured out I was okay, I found out they were mad enough to want to injure me themselves... (and were probably right!)

On Thursday morning I got the call from Laura. KJ, who was up at college, had been crossing a street on the way to classes and was hit by a car while in the crosswalk. Laura had received a call from a Campus healthcenter nurse, and was already racing up I-79 to Erie to meet up with KJ. Details were few and sketchy, but the bottom line was that she had been hit and thrown to the ground; depite her assault, she was healthy enough to get up and stagger to the health center. I'm sure anger and shock had set in, and she in no way wanted to lay in the street or stay with the man who had hit her, even if he was decent enough to stop and call 911.

Laura gave me the phone number for the healthcenter, and I immediately called. I was able to talk to KJ and found her sounding shaky, but basically strong. Finding refuge and care at the healthcenter allowed her to calm down and feel more in control and she was able to tell me how she was doing. Nothing obviously broken, but several bruises, including a whopper on her thigh where she'd been hit; and an aching head from smacking it on the pavement when she landed.

We agreed on her going to the hospital ER to get checked out, not only for the obvious injuries, but also for how she had weathered the blow to her healed pelvis, injured in a previous incident two years ago. That's where Laura met up with her an hour later. It was with much relief I received the best phone call you can get: the one that tells you that everything is going to be just fine, and despite all the trauma and disorientation your child has experienced, things will work out.

So, KJ came home this weekend. She was planning on coming home anyway on her own, but circumstances determined she'd get an extra day with us, cuz there's nothing much better when you are sore and aching, than to be in familiar territory and among loved ones who are dedicated to taking care of you and making you feel comfortable.

On the dark humor side of this story is the reality that this is KJ's second run-in (literally) with automobiles. My brother Dave recognized this and has issued this warning:

TAKE CARE AROUND KJ:

• Do not play golf with KJ when lightning is nearby.
• Do not go into brick buildings with KJ in earthquake-prone areas.
• When crossing the street with KJ, let her go first.
• Dissuade KJ from going into the mirror-sales profession.
• Given the choice to cross KJ's path or a black cat's, choose the kitty.
• On sports teams, KJ is required to wear number 13 and a bubble-wrap uniform.
• For presents, consider giving KJ a rabbit's foot, a four-leaf clover, a horseshoe, or a photocopy cut-out of Brett Farve's game-day beard.
• When shopping for a lottery ticket, have KJ wait in the car.
• If KJ visits New York city, tell her Wall Street is closed for street-sweeping.
• Whenever possilbe, beseech St. Christopher to pay a little more attention to a certain brunette from Zelienople, PA.

Flying the Peak

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.

~George Eliot

Today was a beautiful fall day; a great day to strap on the props and fly low level through the hills and valleys of Western Pennsylvania/Eastern Ohio.

Twice a week the squadron flies tactical low level missions to the south and west of Pittsburgh. It is an area which includes the Ohio River, and some of the wildest parts of three states. There are numerous lakes and creeks, deep valleys and rolling hills strewn with hunting cabins, isolated oil derricks, and open strip mines. When I first started flying here, I was totally surprised there was so much open territory here in the eastern US, where we could get down in the weeds at 300' and do some serious terrain masking. Just another reason that the Pittsburgh area is so appealing as a place to live and work.

The fall is especially spectacular. The weather has been incredibly warm and clear this past week, a period that followed about a week of conversely low temperatures and several days of steady rain. The result has been a truly colorful week of fall colors. This is the time of year I really enjoy flying. The landscape is a kaleidoscope of reds, yellows, orange and brown. The trees are still full of leaves, but the colors make each tree stand out against its neighbors so that it feels like you are soaring over a multi-colored carpet.

The day did not start off promising. After about 5 days of beautiful weather, this morning broke grey and overcast, with low ceilings and thick, puffy clouds drifting swiftly across the horizon. The actual forecast during the morning mission brief promised clearing skies, and as we stepped, we were cheered to find a rainbow arching over the aircraft waiting on the ramp.

We flew two routes today... one to the east and south of the city, and another to the south and west. The eastern route butts up against the fringes of the Allegheny mountains where farms and cultural development meet rocky upcroppings and ridges capped by golden treelines. To the south we were able to drop down low and skim above lakes, reservoirs, and farmlands surrounded by varigated forests and foliage.

The winds were fairly light, which kept the skies scattered with dark puffy clouds. We flew the first half of the mission at a higher altitude, under constant Air Traffic Control, simulating the deployment leg of a mission where we can cover a lot of territory at high altitude and higher speed in a relatively safe environment. At a previously briefed point, we simulated entering a combat area, and drop to tree-top altitude to practise sneaking under the enemy's radar. It is demanding flying, being that close to the ground traveling 200+ mph. The benefit at this time of year is the sheer picturesque panorama that the fall colors of this area bring to the experience. People ohhh and awwww about the colors of upstate New York, New Hampshire, or Vermont, but I wonder if Pennsylvania doesn't compare pretty darn favorably this week of the year.

Wicked!

"It's good to see me, isn't it? No need to answer, that was rhetorical."

~Glinda

For KJ's 21st b-day, I took her to see the musical, "Wicked," playing at the Benadem Theater in downtown Pittsburgh. Laura took Jill and Kurt earlier in the month, but both KJ and I were out of town when they went, so we missed out. This worked out great though... a fun night out for just the two of us.

It was a busy night downtown as Pittsburgh was celebrating it's 250th birthday and would be having the biggest fireworks display Zambelli ever put on in the US. There were also a couple of other productions being performed that night in local theaters, so the downtown theater district was packed with people milling around waiting to either see one production or another. The weather was gorgeous too. Mid 60's with blue skies, so it was just a spectacular night.

If you don't know anything about the show "Wicked," it's about how the Wicked Witch of the West in "The Wizard of OZ" really became wicked. It also reveals a few other interesting tidbits, and overall is a great show.

We had fairly decent seats. We were on the 2nd Tier, so pretty high up, but we were right on the railing behind the aisle, so no one was in front of us and we had a fairly straight on view of the stage.

The production was incredibly lavish, with great costumes, a fun story, and absolutely wonderful music. The lead actresses playing the main characters of Glenda the Good Witch, and Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West had wonderful voices and were just phenomenal all night. At the end, KJ and I gasped at the ending and wildly clapped with the rest of the packed house at the conclusion. It was a great musical and I would gladly go see it again.

The latest in Fall fashion!

Before everything else, getting ready is the secret to success.

~ Henry Ford

“Success depends upon previous preparation, and without such preparation there is sure to be failure.”

~ Confucius

Another weekend, more training! The last weekend of the September UTA trifecta is finally over. It was fast and furious as usual, but the weather was great, which make life a bit more bearable.

The big event for me this drill was the big Chemical Defense Training I've been trying to avoid for the last year. I've been flying for 26 years now, and gone through chem defense probably 14 times. It changes on a year to year basis as whoever moves into the headquarters job comes up with his/her theories on how the next war will be fought, and we just suck it up, learn the new procedures, wear the new ensembles... and basically suffer through it.

We're going to have a huge Operational Readiness Inspection in December 2009. It will test our ability to "perform our wartime mission." The funny thing is we've been doing our wartime mission for the past five years, and it looks nothing like the stuff they are going to test us on. The Iraqis and the Afghanistanis don't have any chemical weapons, and we verified that about day three of the war, yet we spend huge amounts of time and money preparing to fight in a chemical environment than no one but the Russians ever gave any indication they could operate in.

I think the fear is that if we ever fight the Chinese or North Koreans they would use chemicals. I suppose the Iranians could be a player... The problem is none of these groups actively trains to fight using chemicals. But we do. In an age of asymmetrical warfare and tight budgets, I simply think we still are spending huge amounts of money training to fight the wrong war. But that's just me.

Anyway, we had 4 hours of computer based agony, reviewing all kinds of lessons on wearing the suit and mask; using decon materials; how to survive a base attack, etc. I felt they really should have included the annual Suicide Prevention course in the mix too, just to make sure everyone made it through the training.

After a break for lunch, it was hands-on training with all the new equipment: inspecting and cleaning the mask, donning the suits, learning how to work with all the extra gear hanging off you and impeding your normal ability to do your job, and decontamination procedure. It was a full day, and by the end we were pretty much a sweaty, charcoal-covered mess. But we're ready, or at least as ready as anyone can be for the next several training exercises that will make up the coming year of inspection-prep.