Part effing 3

A little something to cheer you lad…

From where I left off…the Navy corpsman (from an xray) found a “mass” lodged between my air pipe and lung. He showed to some Chief, he didn’t know what the fuck he was looking at, and so he sent me across the street to the naval hospital to see this nice doctor…who I can remember her name. I do remember she was a reservist, working on her residency. She was nice…sort of pretty, plan, over worked, and really understanding.

At some point the next day I showed her the xray. The look of WTF???? Would be a running theme for a few weeks. She no idea of what that mass was. And so, the kick in the balls started. She called another doctor friend she knew in Highland Park… an upscale suburb of Chicago. I remember the day…5-5 (week 5, day 5). The good doctor told me that she was removing me from my division for the time being…until this got sorted out.

There is something everyone has to understand. For the past 5 weeks, ive grown very close with those 70 or so lads in my division and for a hand of us like brothers. So when the doctor told me I was headed up to the 10th floor of the hospital to await a ride into town...a small piece of me died that day. Its sounds a bit emo…but, let me continue.
So that afternoon with orders in my hand, I went back to my rack. There were hugs, handshakes, and some very long goodbyes…I knew id never see any of those guys again. It hurt…hurt bad. Later that night, I was in a white hospital room. The kind you see on old 70’s medical shows. There were about 15 other kids in there. All broke to some degree or another. Most had broken legs, arms, or some other fuck up shit. Even worse, they told I wasn’t going back anytime soon…I was stuck.

I was wreck. I couldn’t sleep. In the morning, I woke up to some nurse saying my ride was going to be ready in about 10 minutes. At this point, I’d never put on my dress Blues. So I did..i looked damn good too. Later in the morning I was riding with the duty driver to Highland Park to see another doctor. To make a long story short…he didn’t know either.

So the long process of what the fuck is that in my chest begins.