Day One

So here I am day one of my deployment to the other side of the Atlantic. We have no set destination or mission yet, though we have 10 days for the high up admirals decide what the wonderful Saipan is supposed to do so that we can make good use of all the tax payers’ money.

I left by beloved husband before the sun came up. With tears in my eyes I hugged him, wondering how in the world I could ever live without him day to day. I walked up the pier (weighted down by 4 more bags of stuff because I seemed to think that I needed more creature comforts than I already had!) and entered into a different world—one without families, spouses, cell phones. We are all about running the ship and getting to be family amongst each other on a little grey steal island. It is an interesting experience. That is not to say that as you are falling asleep visions of you loved ones and the lack of their tough does not squeeze out tears, it is just that you fall into a routine that everyone else is doing and the days seem to tick off one by one and the only thing that makes you aware of the passing days is that church is held on Sunday and the reveille bells go off one hour later ( at 0700, also known as late sleepers).

So I got my new room organized and felt an overwhelming sense of guilt as I spread out my massive amounts of “things” in a 4-person room all the while thinking of my fellow corpsman in one of her 3 person high racks (bunk beds essentially) with one little locker and the space beneath her mattress (aka coffin tops) to store all she needs for daily living and comforts. Don’t worry, my guilt has been lessening as I get more comfortable and further away from land. When I went down to medical (down one level from where all the officers live) with my freshly brewed coffee, a Medical Emergency was called on the loud speaker. Shoot, no relaxing morning sipping coffee as I read my hordes of ship/Navy email. Corpsman were running everywhere with their medical bags but then the patient came in carried by several other sailors. We have a large room we call the Emergency Room for situations just as this—with all the necessities that one needs to revive and keep patients alive (that is, if you know where to find it!) The guy was a thin, long kid of 18 years old, green and clammy, lethargic but responsive (GCS 15 for those of you who care). Apparently while standing in muster he got sweaty and fainted, landing on the ground essentially unscathed except for skinned knuckles. He said he had felt a little nauseated but had no other complaints when I asked him how he felt. He was a healthy guy but had taken some Sudafed for congestion that morning. His blood pressure was good, heart at first a little slow, and O2 sat was fine. His heart monitor looked a little abnormal, though, and heart rate was speeding up to about 130. His EKG showed atrial fibrillation (abnormal heart conduction that can make the heart rate irregular and fast). Thankfully, we had about 30 minutes until the brow went up and we set sail for the seas. EMS was called and the kid was safely bundled off to a local Emergency Department. Following up on him, he was released and has a cardiology follow-up. We would have been fine taking care of him had his heart decided to have this episode while we were in the middle of the ocean, but it is always a nicer thing to have cardiologists with all their test available to the patient. .

An hour later “The Deuce is loose” was called over the intercom, meaning the Saipan aka LHA-2 aka the Big Deuce was no longer moored at the pier. Sailors in their whites manned the rails (lined around the sides of the ships) and it was a beautiful morning. The rest of the day was fairly uneventful except for meeting our Surgeon. So this underway we do not have a whole FST (fleet surgical team) like last time, just a partial one including a surgeon, OR RN, CRNA, ICU RN, respiratory tech/OR tech/ICU tech corpsman, and a clinical psychologist. The ICU nurse was wonderful when I was taking care of the a-fib guy! It is nice to not have to worry about trying to tell and teach someone how to do something quickly. I have not yet met the CRNA (he must exist though), the OR nurse is a bit of a salty, about to retire, cynical guy. The psychologist seems to be high maintenance stereotypical psychologist petite, overly make-uped lady. And then there is the Surgeon…So I already have a bit of a bias toward surgeons that is, shall we say, a bit on the not so good side. I should qualify by stating that I mostly stereotype general surgeons as opposed to ENT’s of which I am particularly fond and extremely biased in a good way of one ENT in particular. So back to this wonderful, gift to the world, God’s hands, worship me and who I am surgeon. Have I given away my first impressions of the guy? My red hair came out in a vengeance (and I am sure nostrils flaring, face the color of hell’s fires). Anyway, he basically does not want to do much and made his intentions clear about that. He does not want to be bothered with much and will hold clinic for any surgical matters once a week for one hour. Hernia? They need to wait till Monday because he is too busy sleeping in his stateroom to descend the ladder (stairs) to medical (that is my supposition). Abscesses? He does not do the work of an intern! (I said, oh, thank you very much for that comment!) Skin lesion? He does not have anything to do with general practitioners’ work! Concerned about a patient or have any questions? It will be fine to call him, he will not yell at me! That was when I said, no, you will not ever yell at me because that is not how we work on this ship. All of this happened after he failed to even introduced himself, I guess I was supposed to know everything about him already and thank my lucky stars that someone like him can be around to help out should we need it! Truth be told, I am thanking my lucky stars but I do not think that it will help his ego to express that thought. I am sure that I will have an absolutely different opinion of him at the end of this cruise, so be watching for my change of heart. He did try to be nice as I think he realized what an ass he sounded like. We will see how that works. The guy has not even taken the time to track down Dr Moll, the senior medical officer and essentially his boss who out ranks him. No good first impressions going on—he is going to find himself on the duty schedule very soon I think!
So, there you have it. A snippet of my first day! I think that I will get a cup of tea and try watching a DVD on my new computer to see how it works. Goodnight!