Part 2 :
In the first few days of reception at Fort Jackson, I found myself in a seemingly never ending line of soldiers moving from table to table with our sleeves pulled up. Each table was a different shot. As I was stepping up to receive the first shot, another female soldier who had gone through the first two tables collapsed and had a seizure. Thankfully, she was okay - but that's not exactly a warm fuzzy especially since the drill sergeants were still pushing us forward through the line.
My next issue with this at basic was shortly after arriving back from Exodus (side note - loved being home for Christmas, but taking a break and letting soldiers go home for the holidays is less than logical). All the female soldiers had to have blood drawn for a pregnancy test shortly after coming back. A day prior to this test, I had blood drawn because I was having issues with extremely low iron and they had conducted a pregnancy test at that point in time. Even though I had told the drill sergeants I had blood drawn less than 24 hours prior and had already 'passed' my pregnancy screening, I was still pushed through the line.
I sat down in the chair and shortly after the medic had started drawing blood, I passed out. In the process, I almost fell out of the chair and managed to rip the whole setup out of my arm. So now, not only were they trying to get me to come to, they had a mess that was continuing to grow. From what I was told, I was out for a few minutes. Smelling salts, water, none of your common triggers to 'wake' you up were working. So the medic took extreme measures and slapped me across the face. I woke up to a stinging sensation across my face and a rather messy arm. When the medic asked me what happened, I told her about having blood being taken and already having had a pregnancy test. I then proceeded to get yelled out for not telling her before she stuck me and was stuck in a chair for 'observation' for about an hour.
Monday, September 9, 2013
Sunday, September 8, 2013
I hate needles - Part 1
When I first told my mom that I was joining the Army, she gave me that look of complete shock. Later, in a conversation she mentioned my hate of needles. Knowing the significant number of shots, etc that are involved with the military, that were what let her know this was something I really wanted to do.
It didn't take long for that hate of needles to come into play. I didn't even make it through MEPS. When we first arrived the morning of our in processing, they briefed us on a number of rules - one of which was not falling asleep during the lengthy day. One of the first stops was to have blood drawn. I made it through getting my blood drawn (barely), then stopped at the water fountain on the way to my next station. When I went to pick up my paperwork from the chair, I realized that I had a steady stream of blood running down my arm.
As I walked back to the area for the blood draw, I was leaving a nice trail behind me. They asked me what I needed and I told them more bandages. I then showed them my arm. I was fine standing there until I saw the other individuals getting their blood drawn. They couldn't catch me before I hit the floor. This wasn't exactly my ideal start to this day.
When I came to, I heard laughing. Once I was fully awake, I realized they were laughing at me. My first thought was 'great, I'm that person'. Then someone filled me in. Before I had completely come to, I had asked if I was going to be kicked out. When asked why, I told them because I had fallen asleep. Shortly after that is when I had fully woken up. Given it was a Friday morning and they all had a busy week, they were thankful for a lighter moment.
To be continued (this is one of many stories based on my issues with needles)...
It didn't take long for that hate of needles to come into play. I didn't even make it through MEPS. When we first arrived the morning of our in processing, they briefed us on a number of rules - one of which was not falling asleep during the lengthy day. One of the first stops was to have blood drawn. I made it through getting my blood drawn (barely), then stopped at the water fountain on the way to my next station. When I went to pick up my paperwork from the chair, I realized that I had a steady stream of blood running down my arm.
As I walked back to the area for the blood draw, I was leaving a nice trail behind me. They asked me what I needed and I told them more bandages. I then showed them my arm. I was fine standing there until I saw the other individuals getting their blood drawn. They couldn't catch me before I hit the floor. This wasn't exactly my ideal start to this day.
When I came to, I heard laughing. Once I was fully awake, I realized they were laughing at me. My first thought was 'great, I'm that person'. Then someone filled me in. Before I had completely come to, I had asked if I was going to be kicked out. When asked why, I told them because I had fallen asleep. Shortly after that is when I had fully woken up. Given it was a Friday morning and they all had a busy week, they were thankful for a lighter moment.
To be continued (this is one of many stories based on my issues with needles)...
Monday, September 2, 2013
Some days it's easy...
Recently, I sat down after having one of the rougher days during this deployment so far. It was more of a way of just venting at the moment, but it was shared and shared - as of right I've shown, it was shared 29 times on Facebook. I thought since it had touched a spot with so many that I would share on here as well. I don't always have the best words to describe how I'm feeling, but this is one night that I guess the words fit.
Some days it’s easy…
It’s easy to take for granted the other half of your bed being warm when you don’t know how it feels for it be cold for so many nights on end.
It’s easy to take for granted your spouse being at your child’s birthday party when they are there for every one of them.
It’s easy to take for granted that shoulder being there just at the right time when there are so many times tears fall while you are all alone because he’s gone.
It’s easy to take for granted making plans for next weekend when you are so used to him being sent away for weeks at a time with only a day or two notice.
It’s easy to stay connected to your children when you aren’t attempting to do it through a computer screen from half a world away.
It’s easy to forget there are still troops overseas when it isn’t someone you know or love.
It’s easy to go about your day and complain about the simplest things when so many are struggling to just get through to that ‘one day closer’.
It’s easy to explain a parent being gone for a normal day at work when you aren’t explaining to a toddler that when he says goodbye to hug tight because he isn’t going to see daddy for a long while.
It’s easy to get irritated when you call your spouse and they don’t answer when you don’t know what it’s like to not be able to just pick up the phone and hear their voice.
It’s easy to say we chose this life when you have never walked a day in our shoes. Or understand that our soldiers sacrifice a warm bed, everyday life, and milestones in our children’s life so that the general population can have those every day moments with their families.
Some days it’s easy…
It’s easy to take for granted the other half of your bed being warm when you don’t know how it feels for it be cold for so many nights on end.
It’s easy to take for granted your spouse being at your child’s birthday party when they are there for every one of them.
It’s easy to take for granted that shoulder being there just at the right time when there are so many times tears fall while you are all alone because he’s gone.
It’s easy to take for granted making plans for next weekend when you are so used to him being sent away for weeks at a time with only a day or two notice.
It’s easy to stay connected to your children when you aren’t attempting to do it through a computer screen from half a world away.
It’s easy to forget there are still troops overseas when it isn’t someone you know or love.
It’s easy to go about your day and complain about the simplest things when so many are struggling to just get through to that ‘one day closer’.
It’s easy to explain a parent being gone for a normal day at work when you aren’t explaining to a toddler that when he says goodbye to hug tight because he isn’t going to see daddy for a long while.
It’s easy to get irritated when you call your spouse and they don’t answer when you don’t know what it’s like to not be able to just pick up the phone and hear their voice.
It’s easy to say we chose this life when you have never walked a day in our shoes. Or understand that our soldiers sacrifice a warm bed, everyday life, and milestones in our children’s life so that the general population can have those every day moments with their families.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
To breastfeed or not to breastfeed
We are currently in world breastfeeding week. To an extent, I dread it. It's not that I have an issue with nursing your child, because it's actually quite the opposite. It's more of seeing the pictures pop up of women nursing their children brings up bad feelings.
I nursed my oldest until he was a little over six months old and the first few times I gave him formula, I cried. I felt like I was failing him, I felt guilty because the reason for transitioning him was because of me, not him. The wear and tear a perfectly healthy body takes during a pregnancy, delivery and within that first year after a child is delivered is painful and exhausting. Then if you factor in a pre-existing back injury and severe issues with migraines and vision loss, you have a bad equation.
Both of my boys were worth every last minute of that pain, but that doesn't negate that I'm constantly in pain. By the time my oldest was six months old, the back pain and migraines had elevated so severely that I was having regular blackout spells and issues functioning on daily tasks. After seeing the required specialists, they gave me an option - either I continued nursing my son and that was pretty much all I was going to be able to do for him OR I started taking the necessary pain medicine to control the pain to where I could be part of everything else in his life.
I still continued trying to a while and the issues continued to get worse, then finally that day came that I popped open that container and mixed the powder and water together. As I sat there rocking him and watching his suck on the bottle, tears started to flow. I felt like I shouldn't be so selfish, like I should try to just deal with the pain to give him that little boost. After a long round discussion with my husband and a lot of tears, we finally decided that this was the best route to go. So I started the pain meds and the pain started subsiding, but each time I filled up that bottle, those feelings resurfaced and I struggled with not putting the meds back up in the cabinet and leaving them there.
When my oldest was just under 18 months old, my youngest was born. Once again with a lot of stubbornness and determination, I decided I was going to breastfeed him until he was at least as old as my oldest had been when I had stopped nursing.
Then life kicked in. My back was in much worse shape then it had been after my first pregnancy, I had barely pushed through the pregnancy itself and now was struggling through daily tasks again. Then before he was in a week old, mastitis kicked in and I was sitting in the ER in so much pain. My little guy wasn't getting enough milk while the infection cleared up and formula came into play. After that had cleared up, we battled two rounds of thrush.
Each hurdle caused decreases in milk production. Every day, the pain increased and I came back to the same decision I was faced with for my oldest. After a lot of talking with my husband, he gave me the support I needed to come to terms with a decision I was having trouble making, once again. Now I have an almost two year old and a five month old, one started on formula at six months, one was just a little over a week old before it was introduced.
As I look back, I still get emotional about going the route I went, but I know that I have been able to be more a part of their lives than I would have if I had gone the other route. I still know that breast is best, but sometimes another route is taken for very valid reasons that may not be known to every person that sees them pouring that powder for their child. It was hard enough for me to deal with the decision and the route I took, without constantly feeling like there is judgement from others.
I guess the reason I'm sharing all of this is because I support those that are able to breastfeed, but please don't think less of me as a mother because I've shifted to the formula route, because for us it was the best route.
I nursed my oldest until he was a little over six months old and the first few times I gave him formula, I cried. I felt like I was failing him, I felt guilty because the reason for transitioning him was because of me, not him. The wear and tear a perfectly healthy body takes during a pregnancy, delivery and within that first year after a child is delivered is painful and exhausting. Then if you factor in a pre-existing back injury and severe issues with migraines and vision loss, you have a bad equation.
Both of my boys were worth every last minute of that pain, but that doesn't negate that I'm constantly in pain. By the time my oldest was six months old, the back pain and migraines had elevated so severely that I was having regular blackout spells and issues functioning on daily tasks. After seeing the required specialists, they gave me an option - either I continued nursing my son and that was pretty much all I was going to be able to do for him OR I started taking the necessary pain medicine to control the pain to where I could be part of everything else in his life.
I still continued trying to a while and the issues continued to get worse, then finally that day came that I popped open that container and mixed the powder and water together. As I sat there rocking him and watching his suck on the bottle, tears started to flow. I felt like I shouldn't be so selfish, like I should try to just deal with the pain to give him that little boost. After a long round discussion with my husband and a lot of tears, we finally decided that this was the best route to go. So I started the pain meds and the pain started subsiding, but each time I filled up that bottle, those feelings resurfaced and I struggled with not putting the meds back up in the cabinet and leaving them there.
When my oldest was just under 18 months old, my youngest was born. Once again with a lot of stubbornness and determination, I decided I was going to breastfeed him until he was at least as old as my oldest had been when I had stopped nursing.
Then life kicked in. My back was in much worse shape then it had been after my first pregnancy, I had barely pushed through the pregnancy itself and now was struggling through daily tasks again. Then before he was in a week old, mastitis kicked in and I was sitting in the ER in so much pain. My little guy wasn't getting enough milk while the infection cleared up and formula came into play. After that had cleared up, we battled two rounds of thrush.
Each hurdle caused decreases in milk production. Every day, the pain increased and I came back to the same decision I was faced with for my oldest. After a lot of talking with my husband, he gave me the support I needed to come to terms with a decision I was having trouble making, once again. Now I have an almost two year old and a five month old, one started on formula at six months, one was just a little over a week old before it was introduced.
As I look back, I still get emotional about going the route I went, but I know that I have been able to be more a part of their lives than I would have if I had gone the other route. I still know that breast is best, but sometimes another route is taken for very valid reasons that may not be known to every person that sees them pouring that powder for their child. It was hard enough for me to deal with the decision and the route I took, without constantly feeling like there is judgement from others.
I guess the reason I'm sharing all of this is because I support those that are able to breastfeed, but please don't think less of me as a mother because I've shifted to the formula route, because for us it was the best route.
Monday, July 22, 2013
The other side
Deployments sucks, there's no doubt about it. It sucks for the service member and it sucks for the family in the rear. Both my husband and I have both been deployed twice before and we both remember getting on the bus to head to the plane on both ends. On one end, you are nervous, but ready to just get there and get started in your job to make the time go by more quickly. Then the time comes that your replacements show up and you start the process of showing them the ropes.
Both times, for me, I was focused on the suck of it. The fact that I was leaving again. It doesn't matter that this is the life we chose, it still has moments that just plain aren't the highlight of it. The thing I hadn't thought about was the other side. Just was much as we looked forward to the time when our replacements came so we could go home, the families that were waiting for us to come home were as well.
I don't think I realized that as much until I watched my husband say goodbye to our boys again. And honestly, when you are enduring that hurt, it's hard to think outside of your little bubble at that moment in time. But then it hit me, down the road when it's time for him to come home, we will be so excited. There will be banners made and homecoming shirts ordered, the house will get a good final scrubbing and the puppy will get a bath. We will all load up and drive to the ceremony and rush into our soldier's arms and our family will be whole again.
Our time is down the road for that, but for another family when my husband hit the ground there, another soldier was packing his bags and looking at that picture that has been hanging up of his family one last time before packing it away. In a few short days, that soldier will no longer need that picture because he will be running into his family's arms and their little family will be whole again.
So while that doesn't fix the hole in our hearts while our soldier has to be gone, today was a little easier thinking through it that way. And when our soldier is backing away our picture, I will make sure to say a prayer for that family that is saying 'see you soon' so we can be whole again.
Both times, for me, I was focused on the suck of it. The fact that I was leaving again. It doesn't matter that this is the life we chose, it still has moments that just plain aren't the highlight of it. The thing I hadn't thought about was the other side. Just was much as we looked forward to the time when our replacements came so we could go home, the families that were waiting for us to come home were as well.
I don't think I realized that as much until I watched my husband say goodbye to our boys again. And honestly, when you are enduring that hurt, it's hard to think outside of your little bubble at that moment in time. But then it hit me, down the road when it's time for him to come home, we will be so excited. There will be banners made and homecoming shirts ordered, the house will get a good final scrubbing and the puppy will get a bath. We will all load up and drive to the ceremony and rush into our soldier's arms and our family will be whole again.
Our time is down the road for that, but for another family when my husband hit the ground there, another soldier was packing his bags and looking at that picture that has been hanging up of his family one last time before packing it away. In a few short days, that soldier will no longer need that picture because he will be running into his family's arms and their little family will be whole again.
So while that doesn't fix the hole in our hearts while our soldier has to be gone, today was a little easier thinking through it that way. And when our soldier is backing away our picture, I will make sure to say a prayer for that family that is saying 'see you soon' so we can be whole again.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Kansas sucks...
Kansas sucks. I have heard this more times than I can count. As military service members and spouses, we often follow where the Army sends us. This may end up with a less-than-stellar location. One thing I have learned though is that locations are all about what you make of it.
Sure, Kansas sucks, if you don't like being outside, if you don't like history, if you don't like nature, if you don't appreciate the appeal of a small town. No different than Hawaii sucks if you don't like being outside, if you don't like surfing, if you don't like sunshine, if you don't like the beach. It's all a matter of taking a step back and looking at the bigger picture.
When we were in Germany and even since then, I've had so many people that talked about how lucky we were to be stationed there. I loved our time there, BUT there are cons in being stationed in places like that as well. We had the opportunity to see places that we probably would have never been able to otherwise. We were able to actually live in another culture, not just visit it. However, roughly 95% of my medical appointments required specialists - the nearest of which were two and a half hours ago, on the Autobahn, so that would equate to closer to a four hour drive here in the States. Wearing anything with the American Flag on it were frowned upon because you made yourself a target to those that weren't a fan of American's. There are many other things I could list, but I will stop there.
I'm not trying to focus on the negative, that's not my point here. My point is that every location and I mean EVERY location, has good and bad depending on your personal interest and experiences. The key to enjoying your time is to do some research, find things off the beaten path. Everyone knows where the mall is or the zoo, but what about the other places to see. I make a point to follow as many of the small towns in the area on places like Facebook or Twitter. They are always posting pictures of places within their area that most people don't know about or they post about events going on.
You have to make a conscious effort to make the most of the situation. I know with my boys that their take on places and situations is found much in the way my husband and I respond. If we find a better way to view things, our children will too.
On that note, for those that are in Kansas, these are a couple lists of both events and places to see within roughly an hour from the Fort Riley area and the Wichita area :
Events: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1L3S-3rNzNRPXVc7rd2WqIS0qI1sz0wn87FieFzvCoSE/edit?usp=sharing
Places to see: https://docs.google.com/document/d/15Ai8bjU34UuYhN2aAILFnldgvo1it6XrvgQTqUCHLwk/edit?usp=sharing
Please note - these docs are a work in progress - if you know of something going on that isn't listed here or something to see, please comment below or email me at mindy.k.king10@gmail.com
Sure, Kansas sucks, if you don't like being outside, if you don't like history, if you don't like nature, if you don't appreciate the appeal of a small town. No different than Hawaii sucks if you don't like being outside, if you don't like surfing, if you don't like sunshine, if you don't like the beach. It's all a matter of taking a step back and looking at the bigger picture.
When we were in Germany and even since then, I've had so many people that talked about how lucky we were to be stationed there. I loved our time there, BUT there are cons in being stationed in places like that as well. We had the opportunity to see places that we probably would have never been able to otherwise. We were able to actually live in another culture, not just visit it. However, roughly 95% of my medical appointments required specialists - the nearest of which were two and a half hours ago, on the Autobahn, so that would equate to closer to a four hour drive here in the States. Wearing anything with the American Flag on it were frowned upon because you made yourself a target to those that weren't a fan of American's. There are many other things I could list, but I will stop there.
I'm not trying to focus on the negative, that's not my point here. My point is that every location and I mean EVERY location, has good and bad depending on your personal interest and experiences. The key to enjoying your time is to do some research, find things off the beaten path. Everyone knows where the mall is or the zoo, but what about the other places to see. I make a point to follow as many of the small towns in the area on places like Facebook or Twitter. They are always posting pictures of places within their area that most people don't know about or they post about events going on.
You have to make a conscious effort to make the most of the situation. I know with my boys that their take on places and situations is found much in the way my husband and I respond. If we find a better way to view things, our children will too.
On that note, for those that are in Kansas, these are a couple lists of both events and places to see within roughly an hour from the Fort Riley area and the Wichita area :
Events: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1L3S-3rNzNRPXVc7rd2WqIS0qI1sz0wn87FieFzvCoSE/edit?usp=sharing
Places to see: https://docs.google.com/document/d/15Ai8bjU34UuYhN2aAILFnldgvo1it6XrvgQTqUCHLwk/edit?usp=sharing
Please note - these docs are a work in progress - if you know of something going on that isn't listed here or something to see, please comment below or email me at mindy.k.king10@gmail.com
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
A very special project
One thing I have learned along the way is that every veteran has a story to tell. It doesn't matter what branch they served in or what era, whether they saw combat or not - there is always a story.
Over the past few years, during my time in the Army I became involved in the American Legion and then after my first deployment, the VFW. I've heard many stories of some of the older veterans, most are the funny kind of the 'you won't believe what this guy did' type of story. The occasional chance that you hear a war story from one of the more seasoned generations, it's the time to really sit down and listen.
Veterans of our past are a walking part of history, they have seen things and know stories that you will never find in any history book. They have witnessed a true spectrum of emotions that no one else could ever imagine. Many of them have carried that weight of those emotions for years and for many, it has been carried to the grave. Once that happens, that part of history remains forever unknown and becomes forgotten at the moment of that last breathe.
I know I have been guilty of this in the past... my grandfather was a career service member with a total of 21 years between the Navy and Air Force. With the exception of the summarized final retirement papers, I know nothing about his history. My mom was so young when he was in the service, that she doesn't remember much besides a couple short years in Japan, which for the most part is a blur. That is history we can't get back. I can't google it or go to the library and look it up - it's just simply gone.
This has prompted something in me.... something I want to preserve. Over the next few months, I'm going to be working on a project that will hopefully capture some of this history - so when these veteran's families look back, they don't regret what they don't know...
Over the past few years, during my time in the Army I became involved in the American Legion and then after my first deployment, the VFW. I've heard many stories of some of the older veterans, most are the funny kind of the 'you won't believe what this guy did' type of story. The occasional chance that you hear a war story from one of the more seasoned generations, it's the time to really sit down and listen.
Veterans of our past are a walking part of history, they have seen things and know stories that you will never find in any history book. They have witnessed a true spectrum of emotions that no one else could ever imagine. Many of them have carried that weight of those emotions for years and for many, it has been carried to the grave. Once that happens, that part of history remains forever unknown and becomes forgotten at the moment of that last breathe.
I know I have been guilty of this in the past... my grandfather was a career service member with a total of 21 years between the Navy and Air Force. With the exception of the summarized final retirement papers, I know nothing about his history. My mom was so young when he was in the service, that she doesn't remember much besides a couple short years in Japan, which for the most part is a blur. That is history we can't get back. I can't google it or go to the library and look it up - it's just simply gone.
This has prompted something in me.... something I want to preserve. Over the next few months, I'm going to be working on a project that will hopefully capture some of this history - so when these veteran's families look back, they don't regret what they don't know...
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