What the heck is going on?

OK, the Ft. Hood massacre.

He was NOT just a soldier that flipped out. He was NOT a victim of PTSD. He was NOT overworked or under treated. He is definitely not to be pitied.

He IS a TERRORIST. Plain and simple. He is a man who swore to protect the people of this country. Whose primary job was to help soldiers who have lost their way. He was an officer and a doctor. He should have been one of the best among us. He betrayed us all.

This was a premeditated act. He purchased the weapons. He gave away his belongings. He gave his landlord notice. He called and said goodbye to his friends. He fully expected to die or go to prison that day, never to return. He purposefully took his weapons to work that day. He yelled "God is great!" in Arabic before shooting. In my book, that is terrorism at it's simplest definition. This was an act of terrorism. And it disgusts me. Yes, it seems that the terrorists have even infiltrated our military, and that should scare the hell out of us all.

Many years ago my baby brother was stationed at Ft. Hood. What does that have to do with anything? Nothing. But it maybe made this a little more personal to me. This terrorist killed my brothers and sisters in arms. He killed AMERICAN SOLDIERS in their own back yard. He made what should have been the safest place in the nation a place to fear. He made it so Moms not only have to worry about their children dying overseas at war; now they worry about them on our own soil. And for that, he should pay.

I am SO glad he didn't die. I hope he lives so he can spend the rest of his miserable life in prison paying for his crimes. And when he thinks he is finally comfortable, after 20 years of mandated appeals (which is bullshit, by the way), then I hope we execute him and send him to hell.

The civilian woman who took him down? She should be the first civilian awarded the Medal of honor. We will never know how many lives she saved, and we should forever honor this Army Wife and mother. She is truly a hero in the truest sense.

It was hard to hear that something of this nature could take place on a military base. We at Minot have certainly had our share of problems the last few years, but I think this massacre drove home the fact that we have it pretty good here, despite all the endless inspections, commander changes, and general stupidity. At least we feel safe here. That is something the soldiers of Ft. hood will not feel for a long time. Damn him for taking that away. As I led my Airmen in a moment of silence at 1334 Friday afternoon, I asked them to remember that we are not defined by the lowest among us. We are Airmen!

But you know what? He will go down in history as a soldier on the edge, who should have been recognized and treated before it got to this point. There will be endless training classes and briefings on how to prevent this from happening again. There will be Lessons Learned classes. He will become a victim. Why? Because our current administration is afraid to call it what it is.

Terrorism.

If I Ruled the World...

While sitting at the BX today, eating lunch, Babygirl said something crazy (can't remember what), and I said to her "It must be nice to be queen of your own little world!"

Then we started to talk about her world, and she said that there would be no boys, and the only food allowed would be tacos, brownies, french fries, and chicken nuggets. Definitely no lima beans or mashed potatoes. So I started to think about what my little world would be like if I were queen of Cynditopia.

1. Football and NASCAR would be outlawed, and ESPN would only show Olympic coverage (because that is cool). When the Olympics aren't happening, ESPN would only show baseball, figure skating, and re-runs of the Olympics.

2. Everyday would be 60-80 degrees, and snow would be relegated to Canada (or Alaska, as long as I'm not living there) only.

3. Chocolate would be a health food, and naturally, calorie and fat-free.

4. All coffee would be vanilla flavored and brewed to perfection, not like the nasty stuff at McDonald's and Denny's. And no Starbucks; they suck.

5. Dogs would be perfectly obedient, never whine, and have sweet smelling breath. Oh, and NEVER EVER shed.

6. Laundry would just do itself. Ditto with sweeping, mopping, and vacuuming.

7. Papa Johns and Subway would deliver to the base (or wherever I happen to live).

8. My van would just naturally repel dirt, and all trash within it would simply disappear.

9. Computers just work, all the time.

10. Hair would grow at a rate of about 1 inch a week.

11. Halloweentown is always on Disney whenever I need it to be (it's a great distraction for Babygirl).

12. Money actually would grow on trees, and I would have a green thumb.

13. My children (especially my daughter) would all be neat freaks.

14. I would be brilliant and not have to work so hard to get my degree.

15. Bobby Flay would be my personal (and free, of course) chef.

16. John and Kate would just go away and not be famous anymore.

17. Women in the middle east and southwest Asia would have it as good as we have it in America (hot button of mine), and the men would worship them.

18. I could run like the wind, and do push-ups in my sleep.

19. Spongebob would be a distant memory.

20. Workdays start at noon and would end at 4 or so. Never mind that nothing would ever get done, because in Cynditopia, there is no need for a nuclear mission. Everyone would just get along.

What would it be like if you were queen/king of your own little world?

Where have I been?

Where have you been Cyndi? Tell us that you're OK, then just drop off the face of the Earth? That's so not cool. What's wrong with you?

Truth is, I've been a little busy. Living.

I'm back at work full time, and I love it. I swear, all of my insecurities were completely unfounded. I work with the most supportive, understanding group of people on the planet. And yes, these are the same twenty-something men that I was working with before I got sick. Airmen are truly the best people. It's like I never left. Did I really think that people would think less of me just because I have considerably less hair? Like my brain somehow fell out with my hair. Men have short hair, and they are taken seriously, so why shouldn't I be? I was pretty deluded, and I have gotten over that. I've realized that they all have their own stuff to worry about, like getting to work on time and getting their training done, rather than to think about me and my problems. I am just their Sergeant, and that is all they care about. That I take care of their needs and lead them properly. Yeah, I was gone for a long time. I am back now, and it's all good. And I love my job.

I have been busy keeping the kids on their homework, doing laundry, cooking dinner, and working out. Ya know, everyday run of the mill stuff. But when you go for so long NOT being able to do those things, they feel pretty good. It was so easy to take my health for granted before I got sick. Now I know what a gift it is to just be able to get out of bed every day. Even if it means I have to get up at 0500 and drag my ass to the gym at 0600, then work a full day and do the household stuff afterwards. I am exhausted by the time I get into bed at night, but it's a satisfying exhaustion because I know I accomplished what I needed to do that day.

When my middle kid, Bear (11) was asked by his Grammy how Mom is, he replied "Mom is great, she's doing the dishes and everything!"

My being well means something different to everyone. To by kids, it means they are relieved of a lot of the chores they have had to do (some, not all). It means they get to go out with their friends again. And it means they don't have to worry about me so much. To my husband, it means he has help in taking care of the kids again, and he doesn't have to worry about me so much. To my parents and siblings, it means that I'll be around when they need me to be, and they don't have to worry about me so much. Noticing a common theme here?

I hate what I have had to put my family through this year. I just pray it is the last time they have to worry like that. I pray we never have to worry about anyone in the family like that ever.

I start school again tomorrow. Back to the grind. Maybe I can graduate next year? It's almost too much to home for. I am also studying for my promotion test I have to take in February. It will be my fourth time testing for Master Sergeant, and I HAVE to make it this year. I am getting left behind. Well, that's not true, because I made my last 2 stripes so fast that I am really just falling in with my normal group for my time in. But I want to be ahead, not right on track. The man I work for has been in the Air Force for one year longer than me, and is 4 years younger than me. Though I like him and he is good to work for, I really want his job. Badly. This has to be my year. I think I should have made the stripe this year, but I tested 2 weeks after I was diagnosed and my head was SO not in to it. I couldn't even read the questions, it was ridiculous. So I missed it by 40 points. 40 POINTS! I have to make it this year.

Hope you all are doing fine, the whole 2 people that read this blog anymore, including my Mom. Have a good week.

I am WELL!

Scan results in - and I am officially cancer free!

Relief, happiness, optimism, and joy!

Now I can focus on reconditioning and getting my life back on track. I met with the exercise physiologist on base today, and he created a program to slowly get me back in shape. I went to him because I know myself - I always either over do it, or I don't do it at all. I don't want to injure myself trying to get back to where I was. The last thing I need is to blow out a knee. So he is wanting me to go really slow and ease my way back. It might be hard, I really want to just go for it and start sweating again. But I know I have to take the time and do it right or I'll regret it.

Next Tuesday I will have the surgery to take this port (like a central line) out. Pretty minor, but I am elated to have it happen so fast. Just the fact my Oncologist ordered it makes me happy, because he wouldn't let it happen if he thought I'd need it again. I will still have periodic scans for a few years, but my Dr. thinks it is gone for good. THANK YOU GOD! And please let my hair grow fast.

8 Years Later...

Remember when September 11th was just another day?



I did not know anyone who was directly affected by 9-11, but I still remember where I was, what I was doing, and the sheer horror I felt at seeing the towers fall. I remember the dread I felt when I thought about what our nation's response was going to be. Being a military member is hard when things like this happen. It is career changing, and it puts a lot of us in harm's way. I think my career can be divided into 2 distinct periods: before and after 9-11.



I had just come off the night shift at 0700. I called my mother and my sister that morning because I had just found out I was pregnant the night before and I wanted to tell them the good news. I went to sleep at about 0800 and I was just exhausted. My unit was doing field exercises and I had been on 12 hour overnight shifts for several weeks.



I remember my husband calling me and telling me that there was a plane that flew into the WTC and it was on fire. I thought it was a terrible accident; maybe the pilot had gotten hurt or had a heart attack. I thought about the people on board and I was so sad. It never occurred to me it was deliberate. Then there was another plane. Then the Pentagon. Later I heard about Flight 93. Oh, those poor people! And their families! And our country! What would this mean for our country?



Base exercises ended immediately and we went into real world actions. The base went onto THREATCON DELTA (which means the crap has officially hit the fan). The gates were locked, the schools and day care centers were closed. The name plates were taken down from our base housing units (so pilots and commanders could not be identified). All of the gate guards were armed to the teeth. Vehicles were being searched for bombs. And for the first time in my short career (5 years), I saw fully loaded fighter jets on my flightline. These weren't dummy bombs. This was not a drill or an exercise. This was real and I was scared. I was scared of the real possibility of being sent to war. I was scared that my base was a possible target. But this was what I was trained for. My unit stayed on 12 hour shifts for 3 months straight after that, 7 days a week. The base and housing went on lock down permanently. As did all Air Force bases. Gone were the days of being waved through by the guards. Now ID cards were demanded or entry was denied. Period.



While I was terrified, I was also mad. I wanted to fight and defend; as did all of my fellow Airmen. I was mad at the arrogance of those who dared to do this to our country. I was mad because I was PREGNANT and I knew I could not go whether I wanted to or not. My family (especially my mother) was relieved that I had to stay behind. It was a guilty feeling.



Before 9-11 my career consisted of training. After 9-11, it was about putting that training to the test. I am proud to serve, even though I haven't had to deploy overseas yet. Not that I'm itching to leave my family or go into combat, but my career field doesn't normally go to the front anyway, we are maintainers. Do you know how rare it is to be in 13 years and never have deployed? I feel like I have had it too easy. One day I'll be medically cleared and able to have my turn. When my number comes up, I'll do my part. Until then, I'll be here, supporting the mission so that others may go.