The Upside

I've already talked at some length about the crazy, ever-changing schedules my Army husband has, but it's only fair to talk about the upside of his schedule, too.

The other day, Steve told me he wouldn't be home until after 10pm since he had to complete a "night jump." (Yes, that's right—where he has to jump out of a plane in the dark while trying to avoid trees and the like.)

So I had planned on a quiet day at home, but when I got home from the gym and running errands around noon, his truck was in the driveway. He'd been given the middle of the day off, and we would be able to spend the afternoon together, since he didn't have to be back for his jump until 5:30.

Unfortunately, our afternoon was cut short when Steve found out the road up to camp would be closed for a few hours, beginning at 2:30pm. (The Air Force conducts bombing runs in the open areas near the Ranger camp, and they close the roads leading into camp during these tests.) He would need to drive back up to camp before they closed the road in order to be back to work on time.

So our afternoon together turned into having lunch and me watching him pack up to leave again, but that wasn't the Army's fault—they tried. This time it was the Air Force's fault!

Still, the Army let Steve sleep in until 7:30 the next morning, and we did get to have that unexpected lunch together, so I can't complain. Sometimes there are disappointments and sometimes there are unforeseen gifts; you can never tell what's going to happen in Army life.

Michelle Obama at Eglin AFB

Supposedly, Michelle Obama is here in the Florida Panhandle at the moment, giving an address only a few miles away. At least that's what I've heard—I wasn't invited to listen to her speak.

The first lady has made it her mission to serve military families. Every first lady has had her pet project: Laura Bush was passionate about education and women's issues; as first lady, Hillary Clinton advocated for health care reform (and she's still working on that one).

I'm interested to see what First Lady Michelle Obama will do for our military families. So far I haven't felt the effects of her good will, but I'd sure give her a $1.4 million award for good intentions.

Seriously, though, I do want to hear how she plans to offer more support to families of servicemen and women. I appreciate her recognition that military families shoulder a lot of burdens, with changing family structures (when parents deploy) as well as financial hardships. I'm not exactly sure how she'll be able to remedy either of those situations, since her husband has approved sending more troops to the Middle East and appears to have completely drained our government of funds for many generations to come.

Maybe you could work on military health care, Mrs. Obama—ours is already run by the government.

Flu Season, Courtesy of the Army

With Steve's instructor position, his schedule changes all the time. Unfortunately, while class is in session, he rarely gets a chance to go to church, and I usually end up going alone every week. (Which causes some confusion--people inviting me to "singles" small groups or Bible studies for women who want to evangelize to their spouse. I try to explain that he would actually like to be there, but can't.)

This past Sunday was one of the rare weeks that we were going to be able to attend church together, and we were both looking forward to it. Steve was scheduled to work all day on Saturday, and usually when he does that he gets in mid- to late morning the next day. This week, though, he knew he'd be home early, in time to go to church.

When he walked in at 6am Sunday morning, he said hello and even though I was half asleep I could tell something was wrong. He was either sick or hadn't slept all night. I asked him how he felt, and he shook his head. "I feel terrible," he said. 'I'm sick."

Steve hates being sick. He hates admitting he's sick--he always wants to tough it out without medicine or pity. So I knew he was really feeling awful when he allowed me to give him cold medicine.

When I checked on him a few hours later (20 minutes before we were supposed to leave for church), he still had a temperature of 101. Turns out that the Army decided he had to have a flu shot immediately before working for 24 hours straight. Luckily, he did have the rest of Sunday and Monday off, which he spent resting, recovering and not going to church.

As he went off to work this morning, he said he felt better. Not 100 percent, but better. I, on the other hand, woke up sneezing and coughing with a pounding headache.

Thanks a lot, Army.

Cell Phone PTSD

On Saturday, Steve diagnosed me with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD, which is found among people who experienced distressing or traumatic situations. PTSD is often diagnosed in veterans, as wartime events and situations can have lasting psychological effects. Effects of PTSD include depression, fits of anger, insomnia and jumping at loud noises, to name a few. My symptoms are manifested in the obsession I have with my cell phone.

I'm not trying to make light of real PTSD, but I have gotten into quite a neurotic pattern of behavior regarding the phone.

While Steve was deployed, I didn't know when he would be able to call. During the first several months of his deployment, it was often a week or two in between phone calls, and he usually only had a brief window of time in which to talk. He might call while I was at work or asleep, so I had to have the phone nearby. Also, since I didn't live close his Army base (we were only engaged at this time), I had no way of getting information. I would sometimes receive an email that someone from Steve's company had been wounded, but that the family had not been contacted yet, so they wouldn't give out names. At those times all the company families kept their phones close at hand.

During Steve's 15-month deployment, my phone was constantly at my side. I never turned it off. I carried it around the gym with me and left the volume on high if I was in the shower. I was extremely blessed to have understanding employers who allowed me to bring my phone to meetings and take my lunch break at odd hours so that I could talk to Steve if he called. One time I got halfway to work, checked for my phone, and remembered I'd left it on the sink (I kept it where I could see it light up while drying my hair). I knew I'd be late if I went back, but I turned around. I had to have it with me.

Every time the phone rang, I jumped a mile. If it rang, I answered it. I took every call from unknown or restricted numbers, in case it was Steve or someone who might be calling to say he'd been hurt. I would imagine I'd hear it ringing even when it wasn't.

Even though Steve's been home for a year and a half, I'm only beginning to recover from my obsessive cell phone behavior. As we got into the car on Saturday, I bragged to him how I'd left my phone there while cheering him on in the triathlon. He shook his head. "I think you have PTSD," he said, as I checked my phone to make sure I hadn't missed any calls.

"No I don't," I replied, but then leaned over to check if there were any voicemails on his phone.

Let’s get real.

Let's be honest here--I've been terrible about getting blog posts up. And after much soul searching, I've realized why: I've been waiting to write until I have something profound, witty or universal to share. And to be honest (I know this will shock you all), that kind of deep literary eloquence doesn't occur to me on a daily basis. Hence the long periods of silence while I agonize over what to post that will simultaneously appeal to military and civilian folk, men and women, Christians and non-Christians, Tom Clancy and Jane Austen fans.

So, forget it.

I'm just going to write about real life, and leave the pretension for after I've earned it.