Joining the Army to become a Combat Medic was probably the best thing I’ve done with my life so far. The training itself was always fun, at least for me anyway, and took place in San Antonio, Texas. The first eight weeks of medic training was the most boring to me because it was full days of class work sandwiched between early morning work outs and end of day longer work outs. The Army likes to do this thing called sleep deprivation to help you “get with the program” which, you know, works.

Anyway, the last eight weeks of training was my favorite part. That was when we got to do hands on training such as give each other IV’s, learn how to perform a tracheotomy on a mannequin, learn to make improvised tourniquets, etc. The first six weeks of hands on training is also in the classroom but mostly we would train outside the training building either on the grass or on cement. If we were outside that generally indicated there would be a lot of physical training that day. Usually then we would be doing patient carries or practicing patient excavation. Carrying a 100-plus pound person who is wearing 60-plus pounds of gear in the sweltering heat of Texas during summertime is pretty much as fun as it sounds. We would have to perform these maneuvers over and over again because each move as a specific order of steps that you have to have memorized down to your muscles. Yes you read that right, down to the muscles. Every part of training has to not only be memorized but you have to make it instinct because in a heated situation there isn’t time to freeze, you have to be precise when there are lives on the line.

The last two weeks of training were my absolute favorite. I love nature, I love camping, I love medicine, and I love shooting weapons. During this time my training combined all of these loves. Fort Sam Houston is the base I was stationed at for medic training but the last two weeks they send you to a huge desert training facility called Camp Bullis. It’s still part of Fort Sam, a massive base, but it’s miles and miles of desert/plains/a few mountains, not large ones so don’t picture Everest, but a lot larger than just hills.

The training we do encompasses everything. One day we hiked for miles to get to an abandoned village (set up for training, real people never lived there), we split into two groups. One group dressed in typical middle eastern wear (train for the war you’re in, nothing personal) and the other were soldiers. We all had assigned weapons and we used blanks. We set up so people were hidden in the buildings and the other team was patrolling the area looking for intel. Eventually fire fights ensue and soldiers, as well as civilians need to be treated and moved out in a timely manner.

Another one of my favorite parts was when we got to use moulage. Moulage is like a molding that you would see in the movies to make fake wounds. You apply it where ever you want to have a fake injury and then paint it to life. Seeing your battle buddies injured, even knowing it’s fake, helps you take your training very seriously if you hadn’t been already. We set up a campsite, actually, it was kind of similar to the set up of M*A*S*H, green tents and all. Now that I think of it, most of the military equipment I used in training was from the Korean and Vietnam War. Anyway, there we set up and learned how to treat mass casualty situations. We’d have about five-six casualties all in different categories and have to realistically simulate treatment except for IV’s, we really did those, muscle memory.

The only time I was really nervous during training was when we were testing. In order to become a medic in the Army you have to actually pass the National Registry of Emergency Technicians (NREMT) which is ridiculously hard. Look it up if you don’t believe me. It took me three tries to pass the written test. The hands on test though I did amazing on, I’m a hands on learner. I did struggle with one thing though, which was giving an IV. It wasn’t the act of doing it that got to me, by that point I had given a hundred IV’s. The patient assessment as a whole has literally a hundred steps and the IV is only one of those steps. Like I said earlier, everything has a precise order to how it goes and if you miss one step you fail, and they don’t stop you or say anything if you miss a step, they let you finish. My nerves got to me so as I had the needle just centimeters away from my patient’s forearm, I was shaking, the Sergeant First Class (SFC) assessing me is pointing it out and telling me to breathe. I had all my gear on, my Kevlar was making sweat pour into my eyes, my heart was racing and all I could think about was what if I missed a step. As I’m still shaking the SFC assessing me says something to another SFC walking past us. The SFC comes over looks down at me and says “Soldier, where you from?” I replied “Massachusetts Sergeant” he quickly commanded “spell it” “M-a-s-s..” I dropped the needle into the vein with ease, I had stopped shaking and calmed down. By the time I finished spelling the state I realized why he told me to spell it, he helped me clear my head of everything else and focus at the moment on hand. I looked up to thank him but he had already moved out. Oh and I never missed a step so I stressed for nothing.

All of this amazing training gave me so much confidence walking in to my duty station in Bamberg, Germany. That was until I realized that I was a whiz at combat medicine, but had no idea how to treat ear, nose, throat, stomach issues. My first patient wasn’t even a trauma at all, but it was when I learned that I really love medicine. Trying to figure out what’s wrong with someone and treat it can kind of be thrilling at the same time. I use to love the chase and the guess work of it all. Like my first patient ever. As a person I don’t remember too much about her, I remember diagnoses. The patient came in complaining of frequent headaches, blacking out, personality changes, etc. It took a couple visits to figure out what was wrong, turned out to be a brain tumor. The patient ended up going back to the States for treatment so I honestly don’t know the outcome, I just prayed for the best.

I didn’t deploy when I was in, ended up getting cancer and had to get medically discharged, so I don’t have any cool war stories. I did get to do cool procedures like give/remove stiches/staples, give storoidal shots in the bursa (gel filled sac that helps muscles and tendons move over bones), reset bones, etc. I honestly enjoyed helping people feel better, and I miss that. I definitely don’t want to be a medic anymore because I’m getting too old and the military didn’t have bariatrics so that really wasn’t a concern back then. I’m not sure if I will stay in medicine, I love it but I love other things too and lately I’ve been feeling that since my military chapter is over I should close it completely and move on. I’m kind of feeling things out right now but I’m thinking maybe I should be a teacher. Part of being a Combat Medic is teaching soldiers basic lifesaving procedures in case the medic goes down you can treat yourself and your battle buddy. At first I just helped when the leaders in my platoon taught Combat Life Saving (CLS) course, but then I got pretty good at it and I was able to help lead the training. The soldiers that took the classes I taught always remarked that seeing the passion I put in to teaching them helped them do better as trainees. I know it sounds like I’m trying to come off as this amazing soldier and medic, I wasn’t, I had my issues but when you love what you do it’s easy to excel at it.