Provo, Turks and Caicos

I originally felt guilty about planning to do my stop over here. Not anymore.

I got here around noon yesterday, exhausted. I hadn't slept in a long time, and the hassle with the hotel had made it even more tiring (Thanks Tadpole, you rock!). Still, I didn't want to disrupt my sleep schedule, and I don't like naps. So I kept pushing. I went to the beach (less waves than we saw at Tahoe last year, or even Osawa). Quiet little place.

However, just beneath the surface, was action. The ocean floor was a stark white sandy bottom that dropped pretty quickly. 20 yards off shore, the water was easily 8 feet. I rapidly got to a point where it was deeper than I could comfortably dive (I only brought my crappy diving mask to use for helicopter ops. Doesn't matter if it gets scratched up). After about 25 minutes of swimming in the calm water two bonitos swam up and kept me company. I had just decided to head back in when they appeared. I decided to stay and swim with them for a bit longer.

Five minutes later, in a flash, they disappeared, swimming for the shallows. I did a slow scan around me, but could only see faint flickers of light at the limit of my vision. I decided to follow the two fish towards shore.

On my next scan, I came face to face with a four foot barracuda. Well, it seemed like it was face to face. I'm pretty sure he was four feet, because he was longer than my arm, but not truly terrifying.

If you've never seen a barracuda, it's something to behold. A skinny, long fish. It looks fast. It moves in very sudden jolts of movement, between hovering stock still, staring at you. The staring is very unnerving. It's very clear that it has its attention on you.

Oh yeah, and the teeth. Mustn't forget the teeth. Barracudas have great teeth. Something that HR Giger used to draw. They are the stuff of nightmares. Snicker-snack

So this thing is out there, initially at around ten feet. Looking all large and sinister. I decided (on my own, no prompting needed, thank you) to head back to the hotel. I swam about thirty of the thirty five yards back to the beach, watching my escort the whole time (I'm never going to mask swim without a snorkel. I should have brought it). He was perfectly happy to swim behind me. Really close to my toes. Too unnervingly close to my toes.

Suddenly, he took off. When a barracuda leaves, it's a Coppefield Act. One second he's there, the next second, poof, he's gone. If the sun hits him right, there's a quick flicker, but that didn't happen this time. Just poof. Gone

I continued my swim towards shore, watching behind me. When I finally turned, to finish my swim in, I was maybe ten feet from shore, and the water was filled with small (6-10 inches) silvery white fish. Thousands of them. They swarmed around me, leaving a polite foot and a half between us. They had no problem with me being there.

It was incredible. I could almost jump to the shore, and I knew from experience that the majority of the people on the beach had no idea I was surrounded by these fish. At times they were so dense I could only barely make out the ocean bottom two feet below me.

I must have stayed there for ten minutes, just quietly paddling. I really wished I could float at this point, with a snorkel. I could have just laid there, face down, watching this beautiful dance in front of me. Each time the school turned, it picked the light up a different way. The turn happened in a wave like fashion, so I was surrounded by this gorgeous, undulating wave of light.

Eventually I had to get out. I had already stayed longer than I had planned, and I hadn't put on sunscreen (It's combined with my bug spray, and I'm saving that for Haiti).

I walked the 300 yards back to the hotel, more relaxed than before. A couple of quick emails (still nothing from PayPal....grrrr), and I set out to find dinner.

Money's tight, and the nearby "local" restaurant was pretty expensive ($15 for a burger?), so I settled on a quiet looking pizza place (Pizza Port, in Provo). It was really quiet. I was the only one there for about 5 minutes, until the lady of the house came out to greet me. She reassured me that it wasn't too early for dinner (it wasn't even 5 yet), and showed me the menu.

I asked her what was good, and she pointed to the top item, an Islander Meat Lovers Pizza. I'm big into trying the local food when I'm abroad, so this really dovetailed with my love of meat lover's pizza (Ask my friends, I'm a Tyrannosaur!). I went with that.

The pizza came with a baked cheese surface, on a crunchy, but moderately thick crust. It smelled heavenly (when was the last time I ate?), and I dived right into it.

This has to be one of the best pizzas I've ever had. Jerk seasoning in the sauce, pepperoni, ham and a jerk seasoned sausage. It was spicy, but not extremely spicy like jerk sometimes is. It was a unique flavor that I have to try to duplicate when I get home.

I sat almost quietly. A family was letting their little girl have a full-on tantrum for half an hour down in the courtyard. People, I sympathize, but when your child is a burden, it is your burden. Please don't inflict the screaming on all of us. My parents removed me to the car, a private corner, or back alley, and tried to reason with us, before smacking our bottoms raw. It worked, and I fully appreciate them for their administrations. Indeed, I remember diners coming to our table when we did behave, and comment on how well behaved we were. Thirty years later, and I remember.

The food was excellent. The breeze was lovely. I sat and ate as I finished my one book (uh-oh.... no more books??? This will be a long dry spell. I've never gone a week without reading a book. Holy shit! What was I doing). Alistair Reynolds is a pretty good author, but damn, it seems his stories have a pretty dark bent at times. I've only read one (Thank you, Jim-Jim. Awesome book to take with me, matched my mood perfectly), Diamond Dogs and Turquoise Days, but I'm going to have to get more.

Finished dinner and back to the room. I stayed up just long enough to talk to my father and my girlfriend. I love the internet. I passed out and just slept. No alarm clocks, no meetings to make in the morning. No critical phone calls to make.

I feel cleansed. I've left behind the stress of home, and I can concentrate on what is ahead of me. Next deployment I'm going to plan on this. The pricing structure made it easier (it was about $100 cheaper for me to come a day earlier, and get another night at the hotel).

OK, gonna go drop the laptop off at the room, and wander down to the beach. Maybe my friends will be waiting for me.

Kind of a rational post about weed

Quick, to the point. A good, realistic viewpoint.

Though I seem to get my cognition changes through concussions and sleepless nights...

Yeah, for the record, Charlotte International SUCKS. Not the place to do a ten hour layover.

Oh yeah, also: Credit Card Companies! Please! If you think a hotel room is a suspicious charge, let it go, and arrest the guy when he gets there, if it isn't me.

If it is me, you can let me go.

If it is really me, and you deny the charge, I'm probably screwed due to my poor financial planning, and PayPal's withholding of funds.

I think I'm going to be seeing how friendly the Turks and Caicos is to free-range camping.

In transit

Holy crap, goodbyes are hard.

I miss my sister, my parents. I miss the dogs and the cats (even the psycho little one). I miss my neighbor sitting outside. I miss my friends up the street.

I miss my girlfriend. She took the day off today, to see me take off. Instead, she saw me run around like an idiot, trying to make 110lbs of stuff fit into two 50lb bags (stupid airline regs). We did it. Yeah, I can bend space/time.

It was hard today. I first got choked up at Staples, when my girl walked out of sight. Dunno why, but it was difficult. Then my sister called. I was worried I wasn't going to see her before I left. That was rough.

I love them both. Different ways, but lots. All of them, actually. Each in their own individual ways.

I said goodbye to my dad tonight. He said he was proud of me.
Wow
We don't always see eye to eye. Heck, sometimes I think he doesn't understand how much he says means to me.
And he's certainly said it before.
But tonight, wow. It was crushing. It was the summation of the night. A couple of simple words, and I'm really getting that I'm doing good here.

Yeah, I'm that shallow that I still need occasional validation from others, ok? Typically I'll spit in your face and argue my point till I'm blue in the face, BUT it's nice to hear sentiment like this every once in awhile.

My girlfriend has said it a couple of times too. Again, it's like a giant weight rolling over me. A nice one. I was married, and I don't think I ever heard that. I certainly didn't hear it with this kind of weight. That could be the divorce talking. You don't do that when everything's going great.

Baby, if you're reading this, I love you.

I found out that the Milot hospital is getting an ambulance. I may have an honest to god job when I get there on Saturday. I'll be posting pictures.

OK, it's 1am at Charlotte International airport. A tiny little airport that doesn't even have wifi at the Starbucks. I was hoping to catch a nap, but unfortunately it appears that 1am is when the construction starts... Only 9 more hours until my connecting flight.... wow

One day to go

Wow, I'm getting tired. Lot's of running around.

Work swells to fill the time around it.

If that hasn't been said before, we'll make it Ty's Rule, number 11.

The thing above is a QR code. It's like a high tech bar code. When I get back, we'll play with them some more. Right now, it's just the QR code for this site.

My bag is packed. It's 47lbs right now, and I'm going to top it off with candy for my patients. I need to make a mix of rice tomorrow, to take with me (My "run for the border" food stash). I'm pretty well equipped. I wish I had more medical supplies, but I seem to have hit some dry holes in this area. To be fair, I believe every local hospital has teams in Haiti.

I found out this weekend that one of my sister's co-workers was contributing to the cause. I'm incredibly touched when people donate (always restating my mantra "Please don't let me screw up"). This one got even better. I don't have the whole story, but this may be my last chance to blog it (I can't believe I just used blog as a verb).

I'm going to change the names, because I'm a big believer in privacy. If she happens to stumble across this blog, and wants to leave her name in the comments, I hope fame finds her and treats her well.

So Mrs. X's kids have done something wrong. I'm not sure what, but mom was angry.
Apparently Mrs. X started yelling at the kids, explaining to them how Mr. Ty (I can see her calling me "Mr. Ty") was going to Haiti, where the people have lost everything. In my mind, I can hear her talking about the destroyed buildings, horrible conditions, the lack of supplies, walking uphill both ways in the snow (wait, what?). I dunno. I can really see Mrs. X doing a great rant with this.

Apparently it worked. My sister says that the next day, they came to her with some money they had collected (I don't think either of them are even teenagers yet), and asked if this would be enough to help Mr. Ty.

Excuse me for a second, there's something in my eye.

Both of 'em.

Whew. I know it looks like a short period of time between this line and the last, but it's not. Took me a minute or two.

I've heard a lot of "Oh Ty, I wish we could do more!"
And yeah, I wish you folks could. It would mean that your comfort levels are higher. It would mean your level of security is higher.

It would mean we were all better off than we are.

I had a child run out to me the other day in a parking lot. I had just left a business, talking about the deployment to Haiti. He couldn't have been 8 years old. He yelled at me twice "Mister! Mister!" and then gave me two quarters. I told him "Thank you. You can keep these, you know?"
He looked at me and I think he almost started crying.
"I want you to use this to keep the earthquakes away" (I can't do the cute voice, but this kid was really pulling no punches)
Now the kid's got me going. I make it a general rule not to lie to kids. They'll handle the truth better than we give them credit for.
I just looked at him. I didn't have the words yet. Again, he filled in the blanks.
"My dad says you're going to help the people with the earthquakes"
OK, this I could handle, at least until I got to the car.
"OK kiddo. Yeah, I can do that. I'm going to help the people with the earthquakes. Some of them are sick, and I'm going to help. OK?"
I'm not sure why I asked him "OK?" I guess I needed him to nod, and give his blessing to my efforts at keeping the earthquakes away.
He nodded his head and ran back towards the store.

I went to the car, pulled out another two quarters. I think I'm going to have to use his dollar for something special.

I'm not going to put the donate button up today. Paypal is having fits because I'm taking donations but I'm not a 501c3 organization.

Folks, I want to be clear. I want others to understand. I'm not a tax deductible organization. I am volunteering with one, but they cannot cover my travel costs (almost $1000 of it) or any of my other costs. It's just me.

5 Days to Go

The date is rapidly approaching. I spent the morning upgrading my father's computer, and the afternoon finding the equipment I needed.

The folks at Casual Adventure (http://www.casualadventure.com/) have been incredible. This deployment is very different from any that I have done before, but it is right up their alley. Lightweight, quality gear, and they have the expertise to help you select the right tools for the job.

It was interesting. While I was there, a gentleman was looking for a new pack. He already had a pack purchased from another store, but it was uncomfortable, and didn't seem to fit right. The staff offered to help him set the pack up correctly. He declined, saying that it had been setup before. The staff offered to help him pick out a new pack. He declined, stating that his current pack was cheaper.

The staff was very pleasant and polite, even as he became more and more antagonistic. I was pretty surprised at the lengths that they went to, to try and help this man out. In every case, he preferred his problems over solutions. You aren't going to be able to make everyone happy, all the time.

I really valued their input. The staff there are all big time outdoorsmen (and women!), with a very wide variety of experiences. They're very quick to use each other's expertise to help out their clients. I've been using them for years, but for minor purchases, or critical parts (these folks seem to be able to find anything). This was the first time I needed to be kitted out for something like this. It's incredibly reassuring to know that someone in the shop had been in an environment like Haiti before, and has had experience with all of the equipment I purchased.

As I was leaving, I started checking off my pre-deployment checklist. It ended with my old prayer, "Please god, don't let me screw up." Familiar to all of us. I know I've heard it muttered many times past, either in the ER, outside the door before a warrant service, or before throwing the switch on a multi-thousand dollar custom computer, it's a very familiar mantra.

This is a big leap. I've never deployed solo. It's going to be easier because I'll start in a relatively supported location. However, Port au Prince is going to be tough. I've got a couple of leads for organizations there, but much of the work is going to happen with boots on the ground. These uncertainties are what make me nervous.

On the bright side, it's date night! My girlfriend and I are going to grab a nice dinner, and check out Alice in Wonderland. Then tomorrow we're going to go see the horses before meeting some friends for a 30th birthday. We'll close the weekend by going out to see a bunch of my family. I'm glad this final weekend is going to be filled with everything I want.

On a final note, I'm pleased to hear that my friend's book, They Fought for Each other, is kicking serious ass on the Amazon Top Seller's List. Kelly Kennedy is an incredibly fascinating lady, and I can't wait to get my hands on the book. Unfortunately it's going to have to wait till I get back. No where to stash it in my pack.

Seven days to go

I feel like I'm getting ready for a shuttle launch, or something of that magnitude. Something big is coming. I know it is going to be more of the same, completely different patients (something an ER guru once told me).

In seven days I take off, but that won't be the real change. That will simply be me, leaving what is comfortable behind. Leaving my friends, family, and numerous supporters (Nova Scotia? I also got a contribution from a Belgian, but I think he was only 100 miles away when he did it. My family has done a great effort on the West Coast, and I think they have the true distance award so far).

After that great takeoff, down the runway (I love taking off in planes. I wish they'd let me listen to my music), I'll coast for a bit. Actually, a couple of days. Getting further and further away from my home. Sure, I'll have an electronic link (thank god for the internet), but that's not the same.

Then the big change. Weightlessness. I wish. I'd love to go into space.

No, my big change will be Haiti. Cap Haitien, then Milot. Then a series of days at the hospital, hopefully in the ER, where I'll at least be comfortable in my work, if not my surroundings.

And I'll have a team. This is where the real draw is. I love working with a good team. There's nothing else like it. I pick my friends based on how well I can "work" with them. They're the greatest people in the world...

Hopefully I'll find new ones in Haiti.

We had our fund raiser dinner last night. The local restaurant bailed kinda at the last minute, so we hosted a shin-dig at the house. Good friends, old friends, even surprise guests showed up. It was a great time, with plenty of depth that I found surprising. I only had to do my Haiti "Song and Dance" twice (don't think I completed it at all, to be honest).

We talked all night. About everything. A couple of times the controversy regarding the Haiti relief efforts came up. I heard numerous opinions about who was screwing things up, and why. Why things were screwed up. How it could be done better. How the Haitians needed to do better. It kind struck me on numerous levels.

The Haitians just didn't have much before the quake. Then a huge chunk of their world fell apart. The world is coming in to help them, but how are they going to react? Are they going to ask us to build them new tin shacks? Are they going to ask us to build brand new houses? State of the art infrastructure? Build some new hospitals?

These poor people had next to nothing, and they really worked hard to make it better for themselves (I'm not going to believe that a whole, independent nation is nothing but lay-abouts). Now, as a nation, they're in a rough place (no matter how you slice it). Do they embrace the help, and profit from their disaster? Do they stoically, and pridefully turn away the help, and try to rebuild their status quo? I really hope not, but some of the things I've heard have made me think that this option is something that people want.

The other thing that has struck me is the number of people who know exactly what is wrong with any given problem/solution/situation. Wow, it's simply incredible. What's horrifying is the level to which we elevate some of these people. Celebrities, news personalities, pop icons. What the hell are we doing listening to them? (I won't get started about the Vaccine debate. It looks like Jenny McCarthy may try to shut up. Possibly too little too late. Amanda Peet, there's someone I could listen to).

Sure we arm-chair quarterback. All of us do. However, I'm beginning to see that there is a segment of the population that simply delights in that. No matter what is going on in front of them, they're going to accentuate the negative. No matter that your efforts are bearing fruit, they'll decry your mistakes, your inability to save everyone. They'll do this while you sweat, bleed, and succeed. They'll sit in their chairs and drag you down, while you do the best that you can.

And when you're done, they'll let out a sigh. Then roll over, and take a nap. Cynicism is exhausting. Or idle cynicism is exhausting. I'll be the first to admit, I'm pretty cynical. However, I'm cynical as I'm sweatin' bullets trying to fix the problem.

And finally, I was struck by the problems I'm leaving here at home. I apologize for this downer of an ending to the entry, but it's on my mind (and it's my blog!).

I'm not looking to save the world. I know I can't. I know I can try, and I know that sometimes, despite everything I throw at it, bad things will happen. However, there are times, where I just wish I could save something beautiful. Something that I see is going wrong, and that I just don't have the power to fix.

I'm leaving the virtual paradise of the US for Haiti. I'm leaving problems here that need fixing. Problems that I probably can't fix, but that are near and dear to my heart.

I'm hoping people get better about taking care of each other.

Keep 'em coming!