Love design!!! I just came across your blog and wanted to say that Ive really...A Day In The Life
Posted by Erik Rupard on March 19th, 2008
It is too early yet to know what my daily routine will eventually entail (i.e., I am still figuring out whether I will exercise in the morning or at night), but I have had a few people tell me that they would like to know about my typical day. So, for the curious, here is how my day went yesterday, start-to-finish. For the not-so-curious (or not-that-curious), well, at least there are some pictures.
7 AM: I wake up to the little $3.95 battery-powered Elgin alarm clock on my dresser. Actually, I was awake a bit earlier than this, but remained in my little warm cocoon until the alarm made me get out of bed. Bathroom, shave, dress, eat a PopTart (brown sugar cinnamon, of course—Is there any other kind?), and out of my canister, into the very bright Iraqi sun. I walk to work, and arrive by 8 AM, where my medics are gathered around their table, getting clinic ready for the day.
People do a lot of walking on combat-zone bases, as cars here are rented and very expensive, around $1000-plus per month, though you can’t beat the on-base gas prices (free!). There are three bus routes which run all day long, and are free, so if you don’t want to walk, you can wait at one of the many bus stops, and catch the bus to wherever you are going. So far, I’ve taken the bus one time. After it stopped, as I waited to get on, I watched a truly unbelievable quantity of very young marines in their PT gear (green on green) come off of the bus in front of me. It was like one of those surreal Monty Python scenes, where far more people come out of a small area than could actually fit in there. And when I got on the bus, the smell and humidity made it very evident that a bunch of sweaty kids had been crammed into the thing. That was my last bus ride for a while. But I digress…
8AM: Clinic starts, and the medics start seeing the patients. It takes a medic a minimum of 15-20 minutes to have the patient ready to “present” to the staff, so I’m really not on the clock until around 8:30. I use this time to make myself some Gatorade from the distilled water bottles they give us and powder packets that can be picked up at the mess halls. I also may sneak in a Diet Coke, though I am trying to cut those down and eventually out. We’ll see how that goes. I also get my notes from last night completed, if I had any left over. Finally, I’ll get a wipey of some kind, or a cloth, and clean the overnight accumulation of gritty dust off of everything: my chair, my desk, my keyboard, my Panasonic Toughbook’s touchpad, etc. This battle against dust, about which I have spoken before, is a constant one. I am not winning it.
8:30 – around 11:30 or noon: The medics see the patients, and then they come and “present” them to me, which means that they give me a brief summary of why the patient came into the clinic, what the past medical history is (usually not much for the group of patients we see), the physical exam findings, and then a brief assessment and plan. This should take about 3-5 minutes, but may be longer depending upon the diagnosis. I use this time to teach my little grasshoppers a thing or three about medicine, and they sometimes they throw a few tidbits back in my direction. We see the patient together, and I do whatever exam maneuvers are necessary to confirm the diagnosis, and the three of us (medic, patient, and doctor) talk in plain, understandable terms about what we think the diagnosis may be, and how we plan to treat it. The medics write the notes on the dreaded AHLTA system (though it is streamlined a bit out here, and hence not as painful), and I co-sign them. We get through about 3-4 patients an hour this way (with my colleague, Nurse Practitioner LTC Bullock-Price, doing roughly the same thing), and we go until noonish, when we…
NOON: …head to lunch. The vehicle which gets us there is a very dusty (of course) Mitsubishi bus, runs on diesel, which I have noted is the Official Smell of Al Asad.
We have a choice of two DFACs (mess halls), the smaller “rat” DFAC, or the big “Warrior Hall.” Both have their charms, but we all prefer the bigger one: easier to find a place to eat, a bit more selection. On Al Asad (and most other combat zone bases), if you are a uniformed military member, you cannot go anywhere (except the gym) without your weapon. For most soldiers, the weapon (don’t ever call it a “gun”; that is a baaaaad word in the military) is the good old M16 rifle, a military staple since 1964. I have an M9 semi-automatic pistol, and I am grateful for it, because it is not nearly as much of a pain to lug around. Before a soldier is issued either weapon, he has to learn how to completely dissassemble and clean it. I always enjoyed learning this, and occasionally will take mine apart, clean it out, oil it, and put it back together, partly to make sure it is in working order, and partly just for the fun of it. They taught us how to do all of this stuff at CRC, like so:
[picture removed upon request]
A quirk of Al Asad is that, before a soldier can enter any public building (including our clinic), he/she must “clear” the weapon: point it in a barrel and open the chamber to ensure that no ammunition snuck in there. After the fiftieth time, this seems rather redundant (especially for someone who rarely fires a weapon), but it’s probably saved a few lives along the way.
Ladies and gents, I apologize, but I’m gonna have to cut it short here. We had a couple of unexpected surprises in clinic today (nothing bad, just time-consuming) and after a run and a shower, it is already late and I really need to hit the sack. Will continue this tomorrow…
March 19th, 2008 at 3:49 pm
How are you dad?! I miss you and love you so much. Mom sent you enough baby wipes to last you a lifetime too, so you should not have to be too worried about all that dust. Did you know that they told Saddam Hussein that if he told them everything, they would give him Baby Wipes? That is pretty crazy I must say. Well, I love you and miss you sooooooooooooo much and am praying for you every night that you will be safe. Oh, I got all A’s on my reprt card that I got back today too!!!!
Bye, Mwah, love you!
March 19th, 2008 at 4:45 pm
hey dad so have you found any rattlesnakes or those evil lizards from holes yet? youre probably asleep right now but its 545 here so there its 1 something there were having pasta tonight so please wake up and eat pasta in 5 minutes cause thats what well be doing then. have fun and report any signs of cobras or gila monsters on your webby!
Love you dad be safe!
-drew
March 19th, 2008 at 6:03 pm
I think i will be able to get you a bike if you need one!
Also i am thinking of starting my own blog. it looks like fun ( even if no one actually reads it!)
March 19th, 2008 at 7:15 pm
Hi Erik!
I just wanted to say “hi” and let you know that we are all thinking of you up here in Canada. We were all glad to hear you arrived at your base safe and well and have been reading your blog every day. I look forward to hearing about your daily adventures now and was touched by your post about Lorri.
Take Care!!!
Erica
March 19th, 2008 at 7:46 pm
Okay, so no wipes but we’ve got your pillows. Have you thought of anything else you’d like?
How about an alarm clock with a digital picture slideshow capability (it is my missionary gift of choice)?
Or…an alarm clock that shoots the time up on the ceiling. You don’t even have to raise your head to check if you can snooze a few more minutes.
I have a few ideas..let us know.
March 19th, 2008 at 8:09 pm
Lisa, could you hook him up w. a clapper lamp? He’d be the envy of Can city.
Hey Erica Vodi…I mean T-r-i-m-b-l-e! That sounds pretty Canadian.(Irish?). I’m still sort of waiting on those wedding photos…but don’t worry about it, I’ll be here….waiting patiently…aging…I’m fine….
March 20th, 2008 at 12:59 am
Hmm….a clapper lamp sounds like something he’d be treating with an antibiotic.
March 20th, 2008 at 4:17 am
Thiis is true.
Didn’t clapper lamps reach their popular height during the “Roseanne” era?
I think they’re rare to come by now, perhaps obselete.
…Must have been a bad idea (like smallpox).
March 20th, 2008 at 10:05 am
Greetings, Doc: With your daily writing and observations, we are right there with you. This brings Iraq up close and personal. Keep those records coming! Becky, Wade and family are coming to CT today for Easter and Juliet’s baptism on Saturday. We’re excited to see them. Wade and older boys will be dropped off in NYC for the day for Big Apple fun and frolic.
Erik, You just called, routing the call through Ft. Bragg. What a joy it was for Mom and I to converse with you. I confirms to us that you are safe and healthy and enjoying (as much as anyone can under stressful circumstances) your work and leisure. It is also very clear in your writings that you have a very positive outlook about your current situation and that you will make the most of it.
We enjoyed the warm hospitality of Lorri, Maddy, Drew and Maya last week. What a great family. We had some great (junque) food and also some fabulous food prepared by Lorri and your mom. Maddy and Drew were so good in the play “Thoroughly Modern Millie.” They were both just terrific!
The sunny, warm weather in GA was a radical and welcome departure from cold and rainy CT. The flights both ways were uneventful (unlike yours into Al Asad) and we had a capital time. Just didn’t last long enough. Will write again, soon. Be safe! And, don’t leave the fort! dad
March 21st, 2008 at 12:17 pm
Are you telling me to send him smallpox instead of a clapper lamp? I think a group of marines would invade my home or something. Well, how cute are these Marines?
Did the clapper go out with the Chia Pet?
March 21st, 2008 at 3:23 pm
Dad R; we had so much fun with you and mom too! You made us feel so loved and supported. Thank-you for that and for all of the things I later discovered that were freshly fixed or maintained; your visit went by much too quickly. Incidentally mom, I was able to rescue the stuffed shells from the freezer as they were completely submerged in cold, purple-ish popsicle juice, still semi-frozen when I pulled them from the great thaw. Gross!! I don’t care, I’m eating them.
Lisa; I think the Chia dynasty petered out before the dawn of the Clapper but I could be confused. I’ve only taken part 1 of World History. I remember telling Erik if he really loved me, he’d buy me a clapper lamp and somehow he must have distracted me from fixating over my bad taste as I’m suddenly remembering it all now in a foggy haze……drats; that boat has sailed.
We were so budgeted back then though in those pre-med school days. Life is easier now and almost too full of stuff. All I really want is a pineapple pillow and I’ll be happy.
Just today on Skype (I’m not making this up Lisa), Erik truly said that he’s so excited about those good pillows you’re sending. No pressure but he’s counting on you. The man is a pillow snob. He said he has two really lame ones.
March 21st, 2008 at 7:46 pm
Okay, pillows and mouse are coming! I have yet to get my kids anything for Easter and we are leaving for Maui on Monday. I figure I just need flip flops and my VISA and what else can go wrong in hawaii?
Chia dynasty…good one…. I love Chia Pets…almost as much as I love PEZ…not the candy, the dispensers. Who could love the cement/sugar combination? Maybe someone in Iraq…..
I have never been to Iraq. I have been riding dirt bikes in the California dust desert and lived through dust storms in Chandler, Arizona. I have a few things that might help in your can. I’ll throw them in the package tomorrow. Dust prevention, as it were……
Ben is here. His green thumb is proving nice for my yard. He put the epoxy floors down and some nice cupboards in the garage. We might put a 50s-style retro lounge out there with the Man Fridge and the guitars, drums, pop-a-shot, etc. I’ll never get the kids from the neighborhood out but hey, that is the idea.
I want to hear how the purple popsicle stuffed shells turn out. It might be a new RS recipe–the only one sans cream-of-something soup.
Lis
March 21st, 2008 at 9:47 pm
Oh you literary types and your Mamet!