THE BHR Chronicles Chapter 5: Goodbye Bonny Dick!

After a great 2 1/2 weeks, the exercise named RIMPAC is over. The "Ugly Angels" (the name of my sqaudron) performed at their best and we are all looking forward to a long 4 day weekend starting on Friday. Last night we had a celebratory surf and turf dinner. While some commented that lobster tails should never be mass produced (as they were a little rubbery), I was just grateful to be eating steak and lobster. My grandmother always taught us to be thanful for what we have. Although I have to say that I'll be looking forward to having a good meal and some Cold Stone Ice Cream - the soft serve ice cream here tastes contaminated.



A few days ago, the ship got resupplied by a military cargo ship, pictured below off the port bow. The ship approaches fairly close, then a gun shoots a harpoon like device to establish a line between the two ships to ropel cargo back and forth. I got a couple great shots and if you look closely in the second photo, you can see the cable that extends from the two ships with one of the crates moving across. As you can also see, the seas were pretty choppy that day - the Tropical Depression was approaching.





To conclude my tour of the ship, yesterday I went to the Tower and the Bridge. I got a panoramic 360 view from up there and it was pretty cool. In the way distance there was a Destroyer, and while I couldn't make it out with my I-phone to take a picture, when I held my I-phone camera up to the binoculars, it came in nice and clear! It's kind of funny. I mean, here we are in the middle of the Pacific - aircraft carriers, destroyers, jets, helicopters, Marines, amphibous aircraft, nations from every continent represented and at the end of a long day, all the multi-national enlisted forces want to do to kick back and relax is play a game of Risk - the board game about waging war scenarios and taking over countries and territories. You'd think they'd have had enough - but I guess these are the die hard gung ho Hoo-rah troops for ya.



As I write, my Marines are lined up waiting to board their aircraft back to Kaneohe Bay. I've learned a lot on board here and I've had some time to sit back and gather my thoughts, always a good exercise for me as I have a tendancy to be scatter brained and hyper all too often. I had time to write my Residency Application Personal Statement, an essay I was procrastinating from writing for some time (enclosed below for whoever cares to read it), I made some key decisions about where I want to do my residency, I had 2 1/2 weeks of lots of gym time, no alcohol and plenty of rest, and I performed admirably for my squadron in taking care of my Marines. I am grateful that I've had this experience and will remember these days for years to come.

The ERAS Personal Statement

The ERAS, or Electronic Residency Application System opened on July 1st. All Residency Applicants for the year 2009 are required to submit an application to ERAS and part of this process is to create a "Personal Statement", up to 28,000 characters, describing who you are and why you should be chosen by a Program to be their Resident. Enclosed is the Personal Statment that I have written while I was on the BonHomme Richard. I have enclosed it below just to make it a permenant part of my blog. I hope to look back on it one day and smile. Feel free to read if you like, my regular blog entries will continue soon. -RJ

I've been repeatedly asked four questions by my friends and family since I graduated from the Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine in 2004: "Why did you decide to be a doctor?", "Why did you choose to be a D.O. versus an M.D.?", "Why did you join the military?" and "Why did you decide on Family Medicine?" The answer to each of these four questions is multi-factorial, but each provides an in depth look at who I am as a Physician, a Naval Officer and as a person, and each provides a reason why I would make an excellent choice for your Family Medicine Residency.

I remember the first time I was asked who my heroes were in life and who I wished to emulate. I was in 7th grade and while many of my classmates named famous sports icons or movie stars, I remember answering "my mom". Granted, this didn't help my efforts to avoid being picked on in Junior High School, but it was the first thing that popped into my head. My mother has been a source of great inspiration to me ever since I was a child. She never made a lot of money, she came home from work tired every day, and she never bragged about what she did, but what she did was truly amazing to me. She worked as a Licensed Practical Nurse taking care of elderly people with Dementia and Alzheimer's disease. I remember thinking that it must take a great deal of patience and compassion to work in this capacity. While I knew my mom genuinely cared for others, it wasn't until one Christmas that I realized just how good she was at her job. That year I joined her at work to wish a Merry Christmas to all of her patients who didn't have any family left or whose families had abandoned them. That experience was a pivotal moment in my life because I realized three things; first, that in order to be happy in your profession, your work has to come from your heart, second, that I inherited my mother's patience, compassion and care for others and third, that it was my calling to use those attributes in my career, although figuring out how would take me several additional years.

The University of Rhode Island (URI) had an excellent program in International Business. In fact, when I first arrived on campus and met with the Career Counselor, he essentially assigned me to the program. It seemed to make sense at the time. I knew I had a desire to travel and see the world. I knew I liked to work with other people and if high school had taught me anything it was that I excelled in foreign languages, German and Spanish being my two favorite. So for two years I studied Business Administration, German and Spanish. Then one morning in the depths of the URI library I remember sitting there with my thick accounting book open working out tax problems when it hit me. I slammed my book shut, got a couple of dirty looks because of it, and marched back to the Career and Counseling Office. I went back to the same gentleman who I had not seen for 2 years and said "I want to change my major". He asked me to what end, and I replied "I want to be a Doctor!" I was so proud of my exclamation. It took me all my life to figure out what my calling was, but finally I had. Anxious to hear how to embark on this endeavor, I waited for his reply. He looked at me, chuckled a bit, and responded "Son, you don't just decide to change majors and go into Medicine, becoming a doctor is something you decide early in life, it's an intensive 4 year curriculum here at URI." When I pressed on and tried to explain that I was serious, he said "I know Business can be tough, but try to stick with it." I left that day with my head hung low, but after several hours of pondering I came to the conclusion "Who is he to tell me what I can and cannot do?" While that would be the first of many tests I would have to endure, it was the last time I ever doubted my decision to become a physician or my resolve to accomplish it. The next day I marched back into the Counseling Center, spoke to a different Counselor and said "Tell me what I need to do!" A few 19 credit semesters, a summer devoted to Organic Chemistry, a Princeton Review course, an Emergency Medical Technician night class and I was on my way to success.

Growing up in the small town of Nazareth, PA, I wasn't exposed to a lot of diversity. I can remember there being one African-American student, one Indian student and one Chinese student in my high school class of 250. So when I got the phone call from Barry University inviting me to start their Masters Program in Biomedical Sciences in Miami, Florida, I knew it would be a culture shock, but an exciting and necessary part of my journey. Necessary because even though I completed the Biological Sciences major at URI in just 2 years, in contrast to some of the other students who were on the normally spread out 4 year track, I got a somewhat disjointed picture of how all the sciences were interconnected. My MCAT scores reflected this lack of cohesive understanding. When initially applying to medical schools, I did not get any positive responses, but I didn't let this daunt me or my resolve. I simply knew I had to work a little harder to achieve my goal. Perseverance is one of my strongest attributes. I knew that completing a Masters Degree with straight As would show medical schools that I was serious about my endeavor and prove to them (and to myself) that I could handle the curriculum. Except for that one B+ in Genetics, which I still attribute to the teacher's heavy accent that no one could understand, I did just that. In the process I was exposed to a myriad of life experiences both good and bad; different cultures, different races and different walks of life for example. A weekend job working in the DJ booth of a nightclub opened my eyes to a lot of real world problems I had never even seen before - drug addiction and alcohol abuse, just to name a couple. From my two years in Miami I not only learned about different kinds of people, but I learned a lot about myself as well. The most rewarding endeavor I undertook was accepting a position as a Career Counselor Graduate Assistant for the university. I wanted to give undergraduates the kind of guidance they needed to make the best choices possible. I never wanted any undergraduate to be told "no" or to be laughed at when they shared their dreams with me, instead, I told them what they needed to do to make it happen. Despite the negative experience I had with the Career Counselor at URI, it was very rewarding for me to shape these student's lives in such a positive way as their Career Counselor. I left Barry University confident, accomplished, more cosmopolitan than before and most importantly with an acceptance letter to Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine.

In college the Pre-Med Department ironically never talked about Doctors of Osteopathy, aka "D.O.s". They were a different type of doctor known only to me through my research. I remembered that my family doctor growing up was a D.O. and I remembered that he was a great man and an amazing doctor. In my research on D.O.s, I discovered that over 100 years ago Medicine branched off into two types, Allopathic Medicine (an M.D.) and Osteopathic Medicine (a D.O.). I uncovered words like "homeopathy" and "osteopathic manipulation". I learned that D.O.s believe that the body works as a unit, that all of it's systems are inter-related and that dysfunction in one part of the body can cause dysfunction in another part of the body, even if it's far away, due to this relationship. For a very basic example, that headache of yours could be caused by an abnormal gait, putting excess strain on your pelvis, causing dysfunction in your back musculature, which is of course connected to your head. This didn't seem to be far fetched in any way and to my dismay I saw many doctors who would just write prescription drugs to cure the headache without considering other causes. D.O.s also believed that the musculoskeletal system was primarily involved in a great deal of the body's dysfunction. By correcting it through Osteopathic Manipulation, a technique similar to Chiropractic Manipulation, one could resolve many of these dysfunctions. I learned that D.O.s were very primary care oriented and that many were Family Physicians for this reason. While it is true that the pre-requisites for admission into D.O. schools were for some unknown reason slightly less stringent than their M.D. counterparts, I decided to pursue becoming a D.O. because it seemed to fit who I was and what I wanted out of Medicine and it made my sister quite happy because she got free treatments to her back on the weekends I would come home.

Two nights before taking Step 1 (of 3) of my Medical Boards, my best friend Victor decided to tear me away from my last minute review and take me out to a restaurant in downtown Philadelphia with some friends. I was reluctant to go and nervous about my upcoming test because despite my preparation, I have never performed well on standardized tests. (I have a tendency to read into questions a little too much.) Well that night I figured it would probably do me some good to take a break and so I agreed to go out, just for an hour or two. Little did I know that this night would be one of the most memorable of my life, as it was the night that I met Barbara Delia. After finishing dinner we left the restaurant and I happened to notice a frail mid 50s woman standing on the corner of the street. She looked confused and disoriented. Something in my gut told me to go up to her, and despite my friends' protests (they wanted to move on to a bar, assuming she was a bum), I approached her and grabbed her arm as she was about to step into the street. She said her name was Barbara and she was holding a key in her clasped hands. She smelt like alcohol and she was crying, yet she somehow must have blended in with the city because I was the only one who apparently noticed her. She said repeatedly that she needed to "get to Miramont". I asked her for her address, which was just 3 blocks away and I decided to walk her home. In her apartment lobby she asked if I could help her upstairs. In tears, she told me repeatedly how ugly she was. When I got her to her door, it was unlocked and cracked open and an empty bottle of vodka lie beside a large knife on her living room table. I took them off and on some questioning I learned that Miramont was an alcohol rehabilitation unit located just a few miles outside of Philadelphia. I called them and they said they were expecting her that morning but she never showed. They told me to have her sent to the ER via ambulance and that they would assume care from that point. As I watched her pull away in the ambulance, she looked at me through the glass and I saw her lips say "Thank you". Two days later I took the boards and after a week I returned from vacation to a message on my answering machine. It said, "Hi RJ, my name's Barbara, the woman you helped about a week ago. I just want you to know that all of the people at Miramont and me think of you as an angel sent by God. That night, as you grabbed my arm, I was a second away from throwing myself in the street to kill myself. You intervened and saved my life. (She began to cry.) Thank you so much for what you've done." At that moment I also shed a tear, not just because of Barbara, but because all of my stress about the boards seemed silly to me. I knew that a simple score on a piece of paper wasn't going to dictate how good of a physician I would become, I knew in my heart that I was going to be a great doctor because of the person I was. To date, every year I get a phone call and a Christmas card addressed to "My Angel" from Barbara and it reminds me of why I closed that accounting book years ago.

My father was a Sailor in the U.S. Navy, and while on the surface I would deny that it had anything to do with my decision to join the armed forces, I think every son wants to do things that make their fathers proud. I was elected as Class President of my medical school and shortly thereafter was approached by a fellow student who told me I had leadership qualities and would be "perfect for the military". He was sort of the Military Rush Chairman for the medical school and while I didn't consider myself "perfect" for the military, for the first time in my life I gave the notion serious consideration. The Navy offered 3 year scholarships, which suited my needs perfectly since I wouldn't be commissioned until the summer after completing my first year. The military would pay for the rest of my tuition, my books, my supplies and they would give me a stipend every 2 weeks. Having paid for my own education up to that point, I was already in quite a bit of debt from both undergraduate and graduate school loans, in addition to loans from my first year of medical school. This was a huge financial incentive. Furthermore, I knew that joining the Navy was an opportunity to travel and see the world and it was a noble cause that I was proud to undertake. In return I would grant the military 3 years of service as a physician for the Navy. Joining the military was a decision I became very proud of, especially after 9/11 occurred the following year. I was and always have been proud to serve my country and to give back to her in this fashion. Furthermore, it is nice to hear my father speak of me with such high regard and pride because of my service.

Ever since I can remember it has always taken me a long time to make a decision and for this reason, I have learned to listen to my gut more often, as it is almost always right. Even so, when I entered into my 3rd and 4th years of medical school, though my gut told me Family Medicine was the way to go, I decided to make the decision carefully, because there were so many medical rotations that I both enjoyed and excelled at. It was a fascinating time for me, to discover what my strengths and weaknesses were in Medicine. For example, I have always been great with kids. I'd hold babies and they'd stop crying, I'd get through to adolescents when no one else seemed to be able to. I truly had an affinity for Pediatrics and Adolescent Medicine and this was one of my favorite rotations. As a kid in 5th grade when people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I'd either say a priest (I went to a catholic grade school) or a psychiatrist. So it wasn't a big surprise to me that I really enjoyed my Psychiatry rotation either. I already knew from Graduate School that I liked being a counselor and as a young adult people had a propensity to open up to me and lean on me for advice. Some people told me that they felt like I was the only one they'd feel comfortable opening up to (some of my Marines say this even today). So I gave some consideration toward Psychiatry. Obstetrics and Gynecology were fascinating to me, and it was on those rotations that I loved waking up early (or in the middle of the night as it was sometimes) to come into work. I thought that delivering a baby was a miracle and it never got old - it was a miracle every time. I was fortunate to select an Internship strong in OB and by the time I graduated from Naval Hospital Bremerton I had delivered over 150 babies! Before doing my Dermatology rotation I wondered what could possibly be so fascinating about skin. After a few weeks working with one of the best Dermatologists in Atlanta, I discovered that this was yet another facet of medicine that I found very interesting - I can still remember extracting my first toenail. I was fortunate to have strong rotations in Orthopedics and I got to use my Osteopathic Manipulative Training quite a bit there. I liked treating musculoskeletal injuries and this was an area well within my comfort zone (and still is today as I see this in my clinic every day). So when I was completing my rotations and needed to decide on a type of Internship, Family Medicine made perfect sense to me. It was only in that specialty and on those rotations that I saw components of each of my favorite branches of medicine. I began to select more Family Medicine rotations as electives and developed some great relationships with Family Doctors. I was confident in my selection and have never looked back since. Each day that I work in my clinic I am reaffirmed that my decision was the right one, and while I may not currently be seeing the full scope of patients that I would see outside of the military system, I still act as a Pediatrician, Psychiatrist, Obstetrician, Gynecologist, Dermatologist, and Orthopedist every day to my Marines. Despite many attempts from my colleagues to pull me away from the specialty, I know that I was born to be a Family Physician.

I remember my thoughts just moments before the rush of Iraqi and American IED casualties were flown in during my first Mass Casualty in Iraq, "this is it, this is the moment that you've trained for, be strong, be brave, focus, you can do this!" Having successfully completed my Family Medicine Internship at Naval Hospital Bremerton, I was a young Doctor off to Flight Surgery School in Pensacola, Florida. For seven months I studied Aerospace Medicine, learned how to fly both fixed and rotary winged military aircraft, and endured the grueling rigors of Water Survival Training (I never had a swimming lesson in my life prior to Flight Surgery School and I nearly drowned on multiple occasions, especially in the Helo Dunker). On completion of this military training I was pinned a United States Naval Flight Surgeon. While I have to admit that being coined a "Fly Boy" was pretty cool, I was charged with a very important task. It was my duty to coordinate the medical care, occupational health and medical readiness of approximately 1000 Marines and Sailors. I would work in a Primary Care Clinic in Kaneohe, Hawaii for 3 years as the Flight Surgeon for Heavy Marine Helicopter Squadron 362. This contingency comprised almost 200 pilots, aircrew and maintainers, all of which were Marines. I had never worked with the Marines before and I was uncertain how much of a role I would play in their unit. I had been with the squadron just six months before deploying with them to Al Asad, Iraq, and when we landed in Kuwait en route, I knew that it was going to be 7 months of my life I would never forget. The deployment itself put all of my previous military training to use, but the entire past 3 years as a Flight Surgeon changed me in many ways. Indeed, I had an integral role in the squadron. I was the final word on whether or not any of my men would fly or be grounded. I had to determine if they were healthy enough to complete their mission, or if their poor health was such that it could jeopardize it. Besides making a lot of friends and learning to interact with a lot of very different and distinct personalities, I gained a great deal of confidence in myself and in my clinical abilities. This confidence allowed me to stand up in front of my Commanding Officer and make recommendations to him, while others were intimidated to speak up. At one point I was even asked to provide medical assistance to the Commandant, the highest ranking Officer of the Marine Corps who reports directly to the President and Joint Chiefs! I learned the difference between normal and not normal and while this may seem simple enough, sometimes the only medical tools you have at your disposal are your gut and your instincts. If you're not confident in your abilities, it can be very easy to miss something. I've literally performed thousands of physical exams on my Marines and while 99 percent have been essentially normal, keeping due diligence with each exam and knowing when a sign or symptom requires further attention allowed me to diagnose lymphoma in a 20 year old Marine and a rare, invasive testicular cancer in a 24 year old Marine. This is a skill that comes with time and experience and my tour as a Flight Surgeon has afforded me both of these items while ever reaffirming my desire to be a Family Physician. I will end my experience with the military this January with my head high, feeling a tremendous sense of pride unparalleled to anything I've ever known, knowing I've served my country and knowing that I've truly made a difference.

When I was Class President at PCOM, I assisted with medical school interviews and I can say first hand that I know how difficult it can be selecting applicants. It's important to look for someone that stands out, someone with integrity, and someone that is going to make a positive contribution to your program. It's important to have confidence in yourself, and while a great deal of that confidence is learned during one's residency, I can offer you three years of real world experience in a primary care setting, in addition to successfully completing a Family Medicine Internship - things that have directly instilled confidence and ability within me. I have demonstrated on multiple fronts that I am a pro-active individual, always willing to lend a hand in any way possible, always willing to go the extra mile in whatever I do - that's all I've ever known. I will be your Chief Resident and I will always endeavor to represent your institution in a positive light, as I have represented my medical school, my military and my job as a Doctor in this fashion. In February 2009 I will complete my service with the Navy and I will be looking to complete my Family Medicine training from PGY-2. While I am not averse to acceptance into a program as PGY-1, it is my hope that my experiences over the last 4 years as a Flight Surgeon, including a 7 month deployment to Iraq, coupled with the successful completion of my Family Medicine Internship at Naval Hospital Bremerton, will be looked upon favorably and will be thought to bring both experience and a unique distinction to your program. I appreciate your time and thank you for your strongest consideration for acceptance into your Family Medicine Residency.

Chapter 4: Steel Beach, the Mass Casualty, Etilda and Sophia

Rose: "Sophia, is that a Captain Jack's Seafood Shanty uniform?"
Sophia: "No, Rose. I'm off to discover the Straits of Magellan. Yo ho!"
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Sophia: "Picture it, Philadelphia, 2001. A young medical student embarks on a 4 year journey to study medicine, become a doctor and fulfill a destiny! He also makes frequent trips to Miami with his friend Victor on the side, but I digress. Every day by 4 o'clock, the stresses of med school get to him and he comes home to make dinner and watch an hour of the Golden Girls. For 2 years he continues to do this. He laughs, he cries, he watches the Golden Girls, he studies medicine. He laughs, he eats cheesecake, he watches the Golden Girls, he studies more medicine. He talks to Victor, he quotes Golden Girls episodes, he studies more medicine. Finally one day in May of 2004 he graduates from PCOM a Doctor, knowing that he never would have made it without that hour of G.G. time every day. Three years later, he buys all 7 seasons on DVD and looks forward to their release on Blu-Ray!"

Dorothy: "Ma, what is the point of that rediculous story?"
Sophia: "During my time on this earth, I impacted people in ways you won't even be able to imagine!"

I'd like to take this moment of silence to say a prayer for Estelle Getty, who passed away today at age 84. As gays across the world wheep, I know she would want us to remember her as Sophia, making us laugh. Here are some of the funniest quotes from our beloved Sophia. My blog continues after a few of these passages...Enjoy:

Sophia: [Dorothy opens the door, Sophia's first lines] Hi there.
Dorothy: Ma!
Sophia: Everyone is fine no one died, the home burnt down.
Dorothy: My god - are you all right? How did you get here?
Sophia: I hitched!
Dorothy: Ma!
Sophia: A cab - I took a cab.
Dorothy: Well you should have called.
Sophia: I'm perfectly capable of managing by myself, I don't need help - I'm a very indapendent person!
Dorothy: I know! I know!
Sophia: I need $67.00 for the cab.
Dorothy: $67.00? Ma, ma - this is crazy the home is 15 minutes from here.
Sophia: My cab driver is cute but he says there's an additional tax fee for a bilingual driver.
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Sophia: Jean is a lesbian.
Blanche: What's so bad about that?
Sophia: You're not surprised?
Blanche: Well I haven't known any personally but ain't Danny Thomas one?
Dorothy: Not Lebanese, Blanche. Lesbian.
Sophia: Jean thinks she's in love with Rose.
Blanche: Rose? Jean has the hots for Rose? I don't believe it! I do not believe it!
Dorothy: I was pretty surprised myself.
Blanche: Well, I bet! To think Jean would prefer Rose over me, that's ridiculous!

Sophia: Jean likes girls instead of boys - some people prefer cats instead of dogs. I'd rather live with a lesbian than a cat.
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Blanche: [About Rose's recent behavior] I am abhorred!
Sophia: [Overhearing] We know what you are, Blanche, I'm glad to hear you finally admitting it.
Blanche: Sophia, I said abhorred.
Sophia: A whore, a slut, a tramp - they're all the same.

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Blanche: ...there was a time in my life when I tried quittin' somethin'.
Dorothy: Blanche, you don't mean...
Blanche: Sex, Dorothy. I tried quittin' sex.
Dorothy: Obviously you fell off the wagon.
Sophia: And onto a naval base.

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Ron: [to the studio audience] Any other questions? Ah! Here we go!
[Runs over to Sophia]
Sophia: This is directed to Dorothy's lover: Do people treat you differently because you're a lesbian?
Blanche: Well, most people don't know.
Sophia: Really? I would've guessed right off. Next question to Dorothy: What kind of pain and embarrassment has this lifestyle caused your mother?
Dorothy: I really don't know, but... I'll ask her tomorrow when I visit her at... THE HOME.
Sophia: No further questions.
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Sophia: [Sophia has joined a convent] Hello Reverend Mother, my you look Holier than thou today.
Mother Superior: Save it Sister Suckup!

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Blanche: Ooh... I've got goosebumps. Mel will be here any minute.
Dorothy: Honey, why are you so jumpy? You've been out with Mel a thousand times.
Blanche: I know but now there's more at steak - everything's changed. It's all new and exciting. In many ways I... I feel just the way I felt when I was a virgin.
Sophia: You mean the feeling isn't gonna last long?
Blanche: Are you implying I lost my virginity at an early age?
Sophia: I'm just saying you're lucky Jack & Jill Magazine didn't have a gossip columb.
Dorothy: Ma!
Sophia: Hold it, Pussycat. I'm on a roll.
Blanche: I'm sorry, Sophia. But I'm not gonna let your skepticism ruin my entire evening. Mel and I were ment to be together.
Sophia: I wish I could say the same for your thighs.
Sophia: God, I'm hot tonight!
Blanche: I'm not gonna stand for this.
Sophia: Take it, Dorothy.
Dorothy: But I'll bet you'll lie down for it.
Sophia: Well, that was just plain rude.
Blanche: Some people just don't know when to quit.

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It seemed to be the beginning of a typical day on the BHR, 0600 and revelry was called over the ship wide intercom, lights up, off to stumble to the shower – 6 metallic partially divided shower stalls all crammed into the size of a closet – but they just replaced the 6 moldy shower curtains with 6 brand new vinyl ones, and I love the smell of a fresh vinyl shower curtain, you know that smell? Mmmm, but I digress. Right, a typical start to the morning…after another flawless shave and a couple of winks and flexes in the mirror, I donned my dog tags and flight suit and headed for chow. On the way to chow, a Navy Commander I didn’t know gave me a peculiar smile. I just thought he was queer like half the other people on board, but when a Marine Lieutenant Colonel passed me and said “Looking good there stud muffin”, I knew something was array. Could there be shaving cream on my face or perhaps a booger that I had missed? Nah, I’m too sharp for that and I look in the mirror way too much to miss such a detail. Nope, something was definitely up.

I entered the Officer’s Mess and joined my squadron for a typical RJ breakfast – 4 hardboiled eggs (just the whites), 2 waffles, a bowl of Cream of Wheat, a plastic tin of Smart Start cereal, 1 pineapple yogurt, a glass of OJ and 2 Mega Men vitamins (the breakfast of champions). I sat next to my CO (Commanding Officer of my squadron) and he immediately grinned. I said, “Alright, what’s going on?” He proceeded to tell me that at this morning’s Operations & Intel meeting, attended by the ship’s senior staff including the ship’s Captain and delegates from all the countries on board from the military exercise we’re engaged in, the Australian Public Relations Officer/Journalist gave a brief on an article she was doing for an Australian newspaper and what does she put up on the screen but my smiling face. To boot she makes the comment “We’ve got some great shots so far, like this one of the squadron’s Flight Surgeon – BonHomme Richard’s own heart throb, the guy every girl on board is fancying. Boy, if only I were younger, yes?” Of course, my CO (in attendance) said, “Oh man are we going to give him shit for this”. And while I’m getting comments like “Nice photo shoot” every 2 minutes, I figure: 1. It’s a great picture and 2. There are a lot worse things to be on board than the ship’s heart throb. Too bad none of those girls will ever have the chance…lol.

By the afternoon time, things had slowed down, but when I heard a cover band playing on the Hangar Bay I was confused. Then I heard the announcement “Steel Beach will commence at 1600”. Apparently every few months the ship has a “steel beach” or festival on the flight deck where people can wear PT clothes (vice their uniforms) and they have various activities to engage in. There was life size chess, sumo wrestling, a live band from Australia, dancing, a bean bag toss and I even got to drive some golf balls off of the Port Bow. I never thought I’d get the chance to do that in my life.














The first shot below is of one of my friends CPL King, on a side note, his last name is King and his first name is Dick, so my boys call him "King Dick", but being as I have never done a physical exam on him, I cannot verify if this is true, anyway, I digress – he was my workout partner in Iraq (they called him “Hulk”), he’s a big guy. The next shot below is of 3 of my Aircrew men posing for the camera – 3 bad ass trouble making Marines, you can see why they get away with a lot. The next shot is of CPL Toledo and I, another workout buddy and one of my friends in the squadron. He’s a good guy. Finally is the Australian reporter that I made peace with by the end of the day.









Monday was the multi forces Mass Casualty Drill. I was instrumental in its coordination and execution as the medical liaison between our ship and Tripler Army Medical Center. It proceeded as follows, at 0800 the USS Okane, a nearby ship about 20 miles away reported they had an explosion on board and had 75 casualties, which were being medically evacuated to our ship for triage and disposition. As they arrived, the critical casualties, who were all dressed up complete with make up, bandages and squirting blood, were sent to Tripler Hospital on Oahu via our CH 53 Delta Helicopters. I coordinated their safe boarding, transport and delivery to Tripler, in addition to maintaining accountability for each passenger and giving them further instruction.







When we landed at Tripler on Oahu, I escorted them out and the ER team came rushing on scene. Of course there were photographers and news reporters, so I stopped to pose for a shot or two before returning to the helo. LOL.



The aerial shots of Hawaii were amazing. In order from top to bottom the shots show: 1. The USS BonHomme Richard as we were flying away, 2. Honolulu, 3. Hawaii Kai and Koko Head, and 4.Waikiki Beach and the Ala Wai Canal. You can click on any of the pics below for a blow up shot.









It’s been a very exciting past couple of days and I’m really enjoying my time on board. Being on deployments makes you forget about everything else and forces you to focus on just one or two tasks – taking care of my Marines and going to the gym. I love the fact that I can leave all of my other stress behind, relationship drama, bills, conflicts and Oahu. Being on this deployment has given me the chance to have a lot of "me time" and to reconsider what I want. And here comes the shocker – I don’t want to stay in Hawaii. I’m not happy on this island anymore. Every time I leave it I get excited and that tells me that I’m ready to move forward. Furthermore, I don’t want to be in Atlanta or Miami either. I’ve decided to withdraw those applications as well. So where am I applying now? 3 places – San Diego, San Francisco and Los Angeles. I feel so good about this and I feel like I belong in California. I’m going to finish my 5 months left here then say “Sayonara”! As Karen Yamada very obviously pointed out – “a lot of really bad things happened to you on that island – between the failed endeavor with Sheri, your roommate Chris robbing you and the abusive relationship with Billy, the Hawaiian guy I was with for 16 months or so, it’s no surprise you’re ready to move on”. Thanks Karen. That should have been obvious to me, but sometimes it takes a friend to point stuff like that out. So Angelina and I are headed back to the mainland!!!

So in other news, Tropical Depression Etilda is wrecking havoc on the seas and today they are as rough as they’ve ever been. I’m literally rocking and rolling back and forth in my rack. It’s awesome! It’s like being rocked like a baby, it’s very soothing. It’s kind of funny watching people walk down a corridor and stumble left then right and grab the walls. (You know me and weather phenomenon, I live for this shit!) Otherwise, I have just one week left, but I could stay on here longer. I do miss hearing some of my friends’ voices though – like hearing Mike’s laugh (we’d talk almost every day), and hearing Victor say “Airay-Jota!” and hearing my sister say “How’s my Bruder?” and hearing Jan say, well, shit, what do you say to me Jan? Well, I miss you none the less. Some of you have asked how I've been doing with “the Mike thing” – let’s just say I’m not a mess anymore, I feel great about building a friendship with him and I’m happy we’re communicating again. Like any recent end of a relationship, there are moments when I still get,…nostalgic let’s say, but overall, I’m smiling like RJ should be. And I think he is too. And bottom line, last year at this time I was a wreck over Billy - dealing with his bullshit, not being able to let go, tolerating his abuse, etc. I'd much rather be a little sad that someone wonderful who treats me great who will probably be a good friend for life has entered my life. So I am gratefull for you Mike Clausen. :)

Alright, I gotta go shower. I just had a great workout and I probably smell like a dirty ostrich. Thanks for everyone’s comments. I love hearing from all of you and appreciate your support. My next posting is going to be my personal statement that I’m submitting to all of my Residency Programs. I’m posting it because it’s a good snap shot of my life and how I got here, and if I ever look back at this journal in 10 years, I know I’ll want to read it.

Take care everyone. Another week or two until I get pinned a Lieutenant Commander!!! (O-4)

-RJ

Life On Board the BonHomme Richard Chapter 3

Day 8 on the USS BonHomme Richard (I can say that now that my blog is locked without fear of being reported) and I’ve got the layout of the ship pretty much memorized. There’s only a limited number of bulkheads, hatches and manholes (don’t laugh gays) to walk past every day before you start to make a subconscious map of the place in your head. I even have the intercom system down. It’s kind of like moving to Hawaii. The first time you hear Danielle Tucker give the traffic report on the radio and talk about the “Kamehameha Highway to the Kalanianaole to the Pali Interchange to H1 towards the Likelike”, you’re like “Huh?” But now I know the difference between 3 bells and 4 before an announcement, depending on if a 3 star or 4 star General is landing. I hear the hourly report on Flight Deck operations, or know when the flight deck is cleared for PT (exercise), or my personal favorite which makes me laugh every time for some unknown reason, “SWEEPERS, SWEEPERS, Man your brooms!” The only one better than that is when I hear “All Hands, BATTLE STATIONS!” Whenever I hear that I get so fired up, as if Captain Janeway on Star Trek Voyager is about to engage the Borg or something! I love it.





Anyway, 2 days ago we came very close to the island of Kauai (pictured above) and today we’re back by Oahu, near the Lighthouse and Waimanalo on port side and Kailua Beach on the starboard side.




Several of you have asked me what it's like for the Enlisted guys/Crew on board, so I included 2 pictures of the Enlisted Berthing Area – i.e. – where the crew sleep. As you can see, there’s rows and rows of stacked bunk beds, 3 high, with about 4-5 feet in between to create just enough space to move. 2 blue curtains can be drawn for minimal privacy and it’s lights out past 2100. When the ship “goes dark”, it means the ambient white light is replaced with a faint dark red lighting, basically just enough so that when your eyes adjust that you can see where you’re going. This allows for a little extra privacy for the crew but not much. Seeing as how there really aren’t any private spaces to have “alone time”, it’s commonplace to hear guys “taking care of business” before bed in their racks, or to feel some transient vibrations coming from above or below your rack (depending on what bunk you have) that aren’t attributed to the ship. (Again, settle down gays reading, I can hear Victor, Mike and Anthony saying “HOT!”).






What do people do for fun on this ship you may ask? Well, it just so happens there is a schedule of nightly activities on board, other than what the crew does with each other in the dark crevices and abandoned workspaces (and that goes on too - I mean, where else do the STDs come from that we treat?) The Dodge ball tournament commenced 2 nights ago on the Hangar Deck and was very entertaining to watch, but I have to say, the Sailors met their match when the Marines, who were temporarily on board for the exercise we’re doing, essentially kicked their asses. Hoorah Marines! During the day, Marines who aren’t busy frequently play cards or watch movies. Today walking around the workspaces doing my daily rounds, movies that were being played were “Platoon”, “Top Gun”, “The Departed”, “The Bourne Ultimatum” and the TV series “Heroes” which everyone is catching up on in anticipation of the Season Premiere in a month at the end of August.




Medically speaking, my squadron is holding their own, but I had one severe ankle sprain with one of my Corporals (pictured) and one ankle that when I x-rayed turned out to be fractured. He is being medically evacuated to Tripler as we speak to have it casted. Otherwise, lots of skin rashes are developing. In contrast to the weird Iraqi Rash that I could never get my hands on, this I believe to be attributed to dry, recycled air. Imagine living and breathing airplane air for days and days on end. It takes your body some getting used to. Anyone that has Psoriasis or skin rashes or even mildly dry skin is getting it 3x as bad here. I’m even getting some eczema breakouts for the first time in my life. Thank God I brought some Aveeno lotion with me. Pictured above is the ship’s ICU, which was quite large and capable of sustaining a Mass Casualty if one occurred. Monday we will simulate a Mass Casualty on board a nearby ship for training purposes and I'll be flying with Sailors acting as patients to Tripler Army Medical Center. It should be a great exercise and lots of fun (and Sailors love to put makeup on lol).



I end this entry with Chow. One of our Marine Pilots, from the South, loves his Cajun food. Nothing is too spicy for him (kind of like you mom, if you’ve figured out how to access my now locked blog and you’re reading). So he took the Adobo Pork, added some onions from the salad bar, doused it with black pepper and Tabasco, then added a dozen or so Jalapenos, mixed it all together and ate it! And let me tell you, he’s kind of a gassy guy to begin with. I bet his bunkmate is going to be kept awake tonight, only these "in-the-dark vibrations" will be accompanied by a gaseous eruption vice a liquid one. “All Hands – BATTLESTATIONS!!!” LOL.

Is this getting too gross????? Just keepin’ it real folks.

Aloha.

I leave you with some Navy Lingo I've been learning:

Skuttlebutt = water fountain or to gossip/rumors
Portholes = windows
Ladderwell = stairs
Autodog = the ice cream machine
Hatch = door
Jettison = to throw overboard
Jetsom = the things you toss overboard to stay afloat
Flotsom = the things that come up from the ocean after you sink
To "Get a BT Punch" = to be hazed
skivies = underwear
forward = forward
aft = behind/back
port = left
starboard = right
astern = walking backward
athwartship = walking to a P corridor
Wardroom = where the Officers eat
Mess Decks = where the Enlisted eat
Stateroom = where Officers sleep
Berthing Area = where Enlisted / Crew sleep
Scullery = the dishwashing area
Cup of Joe = coffee (good story behind that)
Poop Deck = the shitter
Keel = the backmost part of the ship
Brigg = jail
Coffin Locker = the space where enlisted guys keep their personal items, located under their rack
Geedunk = Candy
Reefer = refridgerator
Squid = any Sailor on a boat can be called this (slang)
Swab = mop
Swabee = one who mops
Forecastle = part of the ship that makes a V, traditionally where Berthing is
Bridge = where the CO resides
Peacoat = jacket
to "nuke it out" = to overthink something

Crossroads Goes Private

Well guys, I had hoped the day would never come. I had hoped that my thoughts and pictures could be shared with anyone interested in hearing and viewing them but I've been getting too many warnings and wake up calls lately. While nothing has happened to jeopardize my career or identity at the moment, I've been getting a lot of anonymous queries and warnings from my closest friends that have raised some red flags and made me become a little more cautious. Moreover, I'm starting to get tired of using gender neutral pronouns and constantly sensoring what I say in my blog "just in case" Big Brother is watching. I mean, I should be able to say I'm gay in my own freakin' journal if I want to, right?

So here's how this will work. Everytime I update my blog you'll get an e-mail from me just as before. Only when you try to access the blog it'll say "this blog is invited to readers only". At that point, you'll need to sign in with a Google or G-mail account. If you don't have one, you'll need to create one if you haven't done so already. Here's how:

1. Go to www.google.com
2. Click on "Sign In" on the top right corner of the window
3. Under the area where you would normally sign in, there's a link that says "Create an account now", click on it and follow the instructions.

I know this is some extra work, but until 01 January 2009, this is what it's come down to.

Please leave a comment on my blog after you've read an entry. And please sign your name at the end so I know who it's from, unless you wish to post an anonymous comment.

I have more to post this week, so keep an eye out, and now that we're private, I'm done holding back...

-RJ

The BHR Chronicles Chapter 2

Been working out 2 hrs a day, lifting weights and running, eating a healthy diet - protein bars, egg whites, carbs, low fat items, hell even tuna salad (the smell of which repulses me), but last night in the Mess Deck they served one of my vices...SHRIMP! I tried to walk past them but turned back and ended up eating about 20 fried shrimp!



This morning I woke up at 0600 to the usual morning whistles and decided to PT (exercise) on the Flight Deck. There ended up being a group of sailors jogging in cadence that I joined. Seeing the sunrise over the island of Kauai was indescribeable. The top of a submerged submarine to my left and a few smaller boats to my right. Way cool.

Yesterday my corpsman and I got a tour of the bowels of the ship. All in all there are 9 decks beginning with the Flight Deck. We made our way all the way to the lowest deck. I got a tour of the engine room and the actual engines and drive shafts themselves. Pictured below is the Engine Room (an unclassified picture as I was told).




When the bridge signals down to the Engine Room to speed up, they turn the black wheel on the right which opens up pressure as a result of the engines producing more heat and boiling more water. This pressure increase causes the drive shaft to rotate faster and ultimately causes the propellers to turn more rapidly, moving the boat forward faster. (This of course is the dummed down version of it). It's much more complicated than that actually. (Mike I could have used you on my tour!) The pictures are of me climbing over the drive shaft, and of the actual engines themselves.




All in all, I was impressed at the complexity of how the ship runs. But I can only imagine what it must have been like prior to using electricity when Sailors had to manually shovel coal into the engines. During my tour they told me we were burning approx. 350 gallons of fuel an hour at approx. 3.15 a gallon! And get this - all in all the ship can hold 6 million gallons of fuel at once. (Angelina was intimidated when I told her.)

Been getting settled in a lot more. Treating some head lacerations - people running into hatches and such. One of my Marines had a really bad sprained ankle yesterday from a Flight Deck injury, but all in all the Uglies are doing well.

Last night at about 1900 it came on the PA "Hot Dog Eating Contest will commence in the Mess Deck at 2000". I thought to myself "I have got to see this"...


Rows of Sailors lined up and when the MC said "Go!", they stuffed their faces with weiners! I think the winner had eaten 10 weiners in 3 minutes. That's a lot of weiners!!! (and these things weren't Oscar Meyer, they were like grade F meat lol)



It's been a somewhat slow day today, and playing Spades (a card game) seems to be a common past time with my Marines. We had a couple of drills the past few days - Man Overboard Drills, Missle Attack Drills, General Quarters/Man Your Battlestations, that kind of thing. It's been a great experience thus far. To answer my roomate's question, "I haven't gotten sea legs yet".



I leave you with a picture I took this morning from the Hangar Deck of Kauai. In the back is the PMRF (Pacific Missle Range Facility) and Barking Sands. More stories to follow. While this entry wasn't so colorful, I wanted to give you a little insight into the day to day life aboard...