Attitude

I was humbled by a recent occurrence and thought it important to share it with you that you might not make the same mistake. Cami and I went to Utah for Rob and Schaefer's wedding at the beginning of June. While we were there many people asked us how we were liking things in San Antonio.  Cami overheard Connor talking to someone saying that San Antonio was alright but that working with the military was horrible.  Connor has on numerous occasions listened to me express my frustrations to Cami about many of the  aspects of working in the military.  I realized that I was guilty of creating prejudice in my family because of my poor attitude regarding the situation we are in.  I was robbing myself and my family of optimizing the  opportunity of being in San Antonio and making the most of the experience.  Those who follow this blog or have heard why we joined the Air Force in the first place will know that we we know we are suppose to be here.  This is a place where we can grow as individuals and as a family.  I, as the patriarch and leader in my home, need to help my children to see what a choice opportunity they have to be here.  I need to repent of my attitude and put forth the effort to make the most of this experience.  I love this country.  I want to serve and sacrifice for what I believe in.  The military provides me with the unique opportunity to do all of those things.  My attitude will determine this experience and will influence that of my family.  I hope to be a better example in the future.

First Four Months of Military Service

It has been quite a while since my last post. A lot has been going on since I returned from Commissioned Officers Training.  I completed my first in-processing experience with the United States Air force at Lack land Air Force Base.  It was quite an experience.  Every person that is ever stationed on any military instillation has to go through this process.  It took about a month to complete and consists of attending meets, signing forms, tracking down signatures, talking to various departments to set up access.  As my first official experience outside of COT, in-processing put a bad taste in my mouth for the way things are run.  For as often as this process is completed you would think they would have it down.  That is not the case.  Evey time I would arrive some place new they acted like this was the first time they had every done anything like this.  There was A LOT of sitting around and waiting.  I was going through the process at the same time as one of my new commanding officers who is a Colonel and his experience was similar so it seems as though the process is just that way regardless of how long you have been in the military.  After completing my in-processing at Lackland AFB I was told that I needed to go over to Fort Sam Houston and in-process there as I would be posted at a hospital there.  So once I again I began a new scavenger hunt of searching out signatures and filling out forms and going through credentialing committees.  After all the paperwork was done and I was waiting for my credentials to be approved I began my orientation to SAMMC, San Antonio Military Medical Center.  This place is enormous.  It is a joint medical facility meaning that Army, Air Force, Navy and Marines all work together in the same facility.  Since it is on an Army base the mentality is more Army than anything else but there are some definite issues that come up having so many services with different ways of doing things all working together.  This Joint Military Force concept is relatively new and there are definitely some bugs that need to be worked out in the system. 



The facilities at SAMMC are all state of the art.  It has lots of things that I have never seen before or have just read about.  It is going to be a phenomenal place to learn.  This is a teaching hospital so there are lots of residents and students of all types around.  It is a Level I trauma center so we get civilian trauma patients too.  I am surprised at how sick the population that we serve is.  I have anesthetized very sick people which always makes it more scary.   




One of the cool things about this hospital is that it is where all of the soldiers come after they have been stabilized in Germany.  I have had the opportunity to work with many of these brave soldiers that have given everything for their country.  It is a pleasure to associate with them and to be a part of helping them recover.  There are a lot of these young men and women who have lost one or more limbs in IED explosions and fires.  Many of them have unbelievable attitudes and are great examples of courage and sacrifice.



Tender Mercies of Officer Training

COT training was like nothing I have ever experienced.  At 35 years old I thought I was pretty set in my ways but after this experience I truly believe that I was meant to be placed in this situation to show me my potential. Anyone who knows me knows that I am pretty laid-back and non-confrontational.  The environment at COT pushed me and tested me in all things that cause discomfort and growth.   After the first day, given the opportunity, I would have hopped on a bus and headed back home but that was not an option.  

An innocent appearing school bus picked us up at the airport and took us to Maxwell AFB.  If I had know what lay ahead I would have been kicking and screaming and clawing at the emergency exit as we passed through the security gate. As it was in my ignorant state I watched out the window as we were waved through the checkpoint.  The bus pulled up to a four story building and we were instructed to get out and set our bags on the sidewalk and head around to the back of the building.  My sense of self preservation should have been all a buzz but again I was oblivious.  I kept my backpack on because it contained my laptop and personal documentation and figured I aught to keep an eye on it.  I figured wrong.  No sooner had I cleared the back of the building when a piercing booming voice yelled ,"What about leave your bags on the sidewalk did you not understand!" A short but fierce looking female drill sergeant came striding up to me and within centimeters of my ear drums told me to go back around the building and leave my bag on the sidewalk. The childhood images of Satan as a forked tailed horned beast soon began to morph into something resembling the drill sergeant.

We were herded like cattle through line after line having people demand information from us while other people are yelling at you for something else. "Walk up to the blue line!" "Up to not on top of the blue line!" Don't you look down, eyes straight ahead?" Simple things like remembering your name and which direction is right or left became impossible.  My heart was hammering against my ribs and it was all I could do to keep breathing.  The ensuing hours are now a blur but I remember being issued a jacket, camelback and a room key and was then told to go and set up my room.  Finally a break from the yelling. I found my way up to my room and closed the door behind me.  I had not the strength or emotional energy to cry or scream, I just sat on my bed and starred at the wall.  I wondered what I was doing here, how a nice guy like me could end up in a hell hole like this.  In the depth of my pity party I became aware of someone else entering the room.  A tall thin young man entered with the same glazed over look that I am sure I had on.  I introduced myself and asked his name. Ryan West.  When I told him I was from Utah a small smile broke his lips and he asked if I was LDS. I told him that I was and he said that he was as well.  This was the first tender mercy.  I had been told that there were usually quite a few members of the church at COT but in our class of nearly 150 there were 4 of us and one of them happened to be my roommate.

The 150 new officers were broken up into small groups of 15, called a flight. We were given a military alphabet name like alpha, bravo, charlie.  I was placed in Golf Flight.  Three flights together formed a squadron. Our class had three squadrons; griffins, guardians, and falcons. I was in the Griffin Squadron. For the first two days we marched together as a squadron and were assigned the mean little drill sergeant as our instructor. I have never been super coordinated or been able to follow a beat very well.  Marching combined all these weaknesses and then added a horrible mean voice right next to you when ever you messed up.  It seemed as though she was never very far away from me and anytime I pivoted on the wrong foot or got out of step she was right on me.  Despite the consistent instruction to keep your eyes forward and to not look down at your feet I continued to watch others to make sure I was in step.  I was so freaked out about screwing up that ensured that I screwed up. Instead of turning left I turned right, instead of haulting I kept marching. I was terrible. The entire group would get reprimanded for my mistakes which compounded my anxiety and propelled my performance to even lower levels.

On the second night after we got back to our rooms after a full day of marching and yelling I was at my wits end. I had sat by a young lady at dinner that was white as a sheet.  I watched her take a bite of food and chew it slowly. She then burst into tears and stood up.  She took a few steps and then seemed paralyzed in place.  I had the image of her pale face and expression seared into my mind and it caused a worsening of my anxiety.  I looked over at my roommate and asked him if he would give me a blessing. He did so and I was able to sleep soundly for the first time in two days. The next morning we lined up for drill practice.  I felt remarkably calm.  We began marching as usual but this time I listened to the words of our drill sergeant. I focused on the back of the head of the person in front of me and just listened. I felt calm for the first time and was able to feel the cadence and follow the commands, I was marching. Having a worthy priesthood holder give me a blessing and learning to march was tender mercy #2.  The following day we were told we would no longer be marching as a squadron but that we would have to march as a flight.  We were to meet our flight commander later on that day and everyone alluded to how scary of an experience that was going to be and I was not looking forward to it.  The hour rolled around and we were sent to our flight room where we awaited the arrival of our commander. The door burst open and the room was called to attention.  Our flight commander strode around the room inspecting our uniforms. My roommate and I had spent a lot of time clipping strings off of our uniforms so that they looked immaculate.  Capt Ah Loy, our flight commander, criticized the poor state of the uniforms of each member of our flight handing out demerits as he went around.  He stopped in front of my roommate and could not find anything out of place. He then criticized him for not telling everyone else how to make their uniform as good as his and told both of us that we had failed. We did not know what that meant but figured it was not good.  Later we had to go formally present ourselves to him up in his office and have a personal interview of sorts.  When it was my turn I had the wording of what I needed to say in my mind but messed it up once I arrived.  Exasperated I let out a frustrated chuckle which is never a good idea.  For five minutes I was berated for my lack of professionalism and was told that I had already gotten on his bad side. Great, I thought, that is the last thing I needed.

It did not take long however to realize that Capt Ah Loy had to try to be mean. There were other flight commanders who were professional at being mean.  You could hear them yelling through closed doors on the other end of the building.  During lectures it became apparent the Capt Ah Loy was also LDS.  He used phrases like return with honor and don't run faster than you are able and told us that he attended BYU and worked at the Polynesian Cultural Center in Hawaii.  Having a flight commander that was not super mean and understood me was tender mercy #3.

My first Sunday my roommate and I went to church off base.  It was awesome to get out of the stressful atmosphere of COT and go some place that I felt safe.  As we walked into the church building a missionary couple greeted us. They introduced themselves as Elder and Sister Blau.  Sister Blau gave us both a huge hug. I am sure she will never know what it meant to me to receive a hug in that stressful time but that in and of itself was tender mercy #4.  The Blaus were angels and helped us countless times.  The drove us to stake conference when the base shuttle would not take us. They took my roommates glasses to get fixed and even drove us to the Birmingham Temple and took us to dinner.

That first Sunday was Fast Sunday.  There was an incredible spirit among those Alabama saints.  I felt the spirit testify to my heart that I need to be  at COT and in the Air Force.  I knew that these experiences would be for my good.  A great overwhelming peace came over me and I was filled with gratitude for the Savior.  The ward in Alabama was tender mercy #5.

There were some fun things that we did at COT but it was never a picnic.  I learned a lot about myself and about the sacrifice that members of the military willingly make.  I appreciate more the cost of freedom and understand better the wonderful land that we live in. 

I know that the images I have posted have little to do with the story that I told but I wanted to write down for my posterity the tender mercies that I experienced while learning to be an officer in the United States Air Force.

Commissioned Officer Training (COT)

Waiting in the hall for early morning exercise.

There are about 150 individuals here at COT. All of us together are called a "group". We are further broken into squadrons. We are in the Griffin Squadron. Our rivals are the Falcons and Guardians. Each squadron has three flights with 15-16 people per flight. Your flight is your family. We march together, eat together, have class together. This is a picture of our flight in formation marching.

We have lectures in big cushy chairs in a huge auditorium. They are usually after lunch so we are all really tired.

Sometimes between lectures you can catch a quick snooze.

We also have lectures in a classroom setting. This is called our flight room. You can get pretty sleepy in these lectures too even with chemical stimulants.

We get to do various types of field exercises in which we are given scenarios or missions that we have to complete. They are pretty fun.

Sometimes the scenario will include one of your team members getting injured.

Luckily they don't give us real guns.

This is our entire flight. We are the Golf Flight Grenadiers.

This is a group reading their scenario card.

You have to have vigilant security or else you will get time penalties.

This is my roommate Lt West who is using a compass to determine our bearing.

The Happiest Place On Earth, Especially After Graduation

The kids, Cami and I talked about what we wanted to do to reward ourselves for all the sacrifices we had to make in going back to school. The unanimous decision was to go to California. We bought a week at the Newport Coastal Villas and planned to hit the road right after my graduation ceremony. We drove to Primm, NV the first night and stayed at Whiskey Pete's. The next morning we drove to San Diego and spent the day at Sea World. I was a bit disappointing in it as many of the attractions were closed and a lot of the shows seemed a lot less amazing than I had remembered.

That night we drove from San Diego to Newport Beach and checked into our room. It was awesome! We talked my younger brother Steve in to coming with us and he had his own room. The kids slept on the hide-a-bed and Cami and I had an awesome master suite.

We spent three days at Disneyland (which is more than enough) and goofed around the rest of the time at the pool or the beach. It was a great trip and a fantastic way to reward ourselves for all the hard work we had done.

The farewell dinner made with some of the best Tri-tip I have ever eaten, garlic rosemary bread which we made from rosemary we picked outside our door, pistachio pudding salad and a regular green salad. It was indeed a sumptuous fare.

Graduation

The day we have anticipated since starting the Nurse Anesthesia program back in August of 2009 finally arrived December 9th, 2011.  Each member of our graduating class had made so many sacrifices and overcome so much adversity to make it to graduation. Normally I am not a big fan of the "pomp and circumstance" that surrounds graduations but I enjoyed this ceremony. It was nice because we graduated in December and got to have our own private ceremony with only the 13 graduates and our families. It was incredible to finally "arrive" as they say and to celebrate that with those who had supported me so well throughout the entire experience. And in order to uphold tradition following great accomplishments, my family and I left from the graduation to DISNEYLAND. See next post for details. 

A Quick Trip

Some friends of ours from California had a son pass away and my parents were going to go to the funeral. My brother Jeff and I decided that we would also go. He had some work to do in Cedar City so I met him there and we drove together from there to St. George where we rode another must ride classic trail called the Zen Trail.

This trail is in the same area as the Bearclaw Poppy Trail we had ridden a few years previous and sunk into mud so deep we had to carry our bike about 4 miles.

This is a view from up on the cliffs of the four miles we walked our bikes.

After our ride we drove to Las Vegas to hang out with one of our cousins that we had not seen for a while. The next morning we drove to San Luis Obispo where we had grown up.

Montona de Oro State Park, one of my most favorite places on earth.

We rode our bikes around the tops of the cliffs with the beautiful blue sea and crashing waves down below. It was a surreal experience.

Jeff exploring the tide pools in his hipster shorts.