A Christmas Gift of Errant Boxes

Merry Christmas! You'll get your presents when you get 'em.

The merry holiday has now come and past, and although the majority of it was spent sitting in a chair in the cardiac care unit (CCU) it was quite nice. Not because I had a great time with my nieces and nephews -- I haven't seen them in some time and am not sure they even still exist -- but because for once, for whatever reason, I felt a little grateful. Now I have always known I am blessed beyond merit, but infrequently have I felt it. I am not sure what to attribute it to but my suspicions are Wilford Hall's ghetto rooftop Christmas tree or BAMC's military issue eggnog. In either case I did not terribly mind working or being alone for the navidad. Plus how can you complain when your friends give you Lyme Disease?

Season sentiments aside, let's get to the point of Christmas and to the point of this post: presents. Man were they a disaster. Although Amazon and its various retailers did their jobs well, I, in my job as distribution center ring leader, did not. I barely got everything wrapped and boxed by the evening of the 20th, but did not make it to Fedex in time for the evening shipment thanks in part to the incredible complexity of stuffing a Mini Cooper with enormous boxes and partly because I may or may not have run someone over on my blind side. I'm pretty sure it was a roll of carpet. The boxes were shipped out successfully the next morning of course, but successfully to the wrong addresses. Adam and Ashlee got a Christmas surprise of other people's presents and my sister's family in Hawaii will be delighted to find out the box they receive sometime in February in fact needs to be immediately repackaged and reshipped. I am sure in every case, however, that their real present was hearing my voice over the phone on Christmas day. Mine, of course, was giving Lucca 11 lbs of candy legos. And possibly diabetes.

To The DR With You

This past year I have tried in vein to leave the country. First I was to go research in Thailand but Thailand exploded. Then I was to go research somewhere else, but our program leader exploded. Scheduling conflicts boxed me out of the USAF humanitarian relief mission to Haiti and the scourge of residency scheduling somehow excluded me from the ICU rotation in Landstuhl, Germany. I was going nowhere and nowhere fast. Which, as far as residency goes, isn't that bad. I'd rather spend my days in San Antonio quickly than the other way around.

But a bright new day has dawned! A late breaking opportunity for a second USAF humanitarian mission in the spring arose recently and I said, "Hey, USAF medical mission, take me fool!" To which the USAF medical mission graciously obliged. I will now be going to the Dominican Republic in April to do... well I am not entirely sure what. Relieve things. Humanitarian things. Medical things. You know, heady stuff. The details are scarce in that I know no details, but it will undoubtedly be an experience. Opportunities like this are a major reason why I joined the military and I look forward to my first trip. Hopefully this time no one brings the cholera.*

*Bonus DR pesos to whoever guesses the current events reference!