The Pause that Satisfies...

In the South, that is a phrase that I have often heard used to describe an R.C. and a Moon Pie. For some reason the same phrase came to mind when the letter confirming my successful completion of the Boards arrived last week. It would appear that having the date moved up was a blessing in disguise after all. Strangely, there is a small sense of anti-climax. This event has been built up in my psyche as the finish line in a very long race for years. While there surely exists a great sense of accomplishment....now what? People like me need a goal, an end point. While catching more fish this year is a worthy task, it is hardly in the same ballpark as the job just completed. At least not until I retire in twenty or so years. Perhaps my next task will be to come up with the next goal. It'll do for now.

The Envelope Please....

Well, today is the day. The letters with the Board results are mailed out this morning. Okay Caesar, is the thumb up or down? I REALLY don't want to go into the arena again. Despite the early indications, actually seeing the answer in black and white under the appropriate letterhead is the only way that my blood pressure will begin normalizing.
I could use some good news after the events of yesterday. Due to factors beyond my control, I resigned my commision on Tuesday. My civilian practice has lost a partner and there will no longer be sufficient time to participate in the Air Guard. My remaining partners would be severely affected if a call-up occurred and it is simply not fair to place them in that position. It is as if a very important part of me has been removed. There is a sense of nakedness without my military ID card. For the last eight years it has never been farther than my back pocket. Sounds juvenile but I really don't know how else to explain it. There is no real upside to having a military obligation in civilain life. There are no special clubs or perks. We are just a group of people willing to submit to a higher authority in order to help our country and fellow man. And lest ye read too much into this, it ain't religion. Bush and Rumsfeld are not new members of the Trinity, at least in my eyes. While my Christianity is held near to my heart and to my intellect, it remains something else altogether. And the topic of a whole other post. When called to the Desert I went for the same reason that millions have gone over the past 2000 years....my friends and comrades needed me. When called to Katrina, I went because I had a unique skill that was needed in my former hometown. Those Guardsmen and women that were with me inspired me to be a better man than I would be in the usual 'civilian' world. Its about being part of something bigger than oneself. No, one may not personally believe in a war or in the way that relief is being carried out but you are an intelligent individual who can put a personal face on the ordered action and make it better than it would have been without you there. All of us did and we and the nation are better for it. The fact that my name will no longer be on the roster to be called to assist has left a hole in my heart and my soul.

There I was...

So there I was.......
So begins so many aviation stories, especially among the military fighter comunity. While mine may not be nearly as exciting in the retelling, it is nonetheless a personal bombshell. Let's let the story play out.
So there I was, sitting at my desk in the office. My partners and I affectionately call this the 'penalty box' aka clinic. Yes, we surgeons like surgery and it should thus not come as a striking revelation that non-operative professional pursuits are granted perjoritive monikers. Don't even ask what administrative meetings are termed. There was, however, to be a silver lining viewable to the patient. The phone rang in from the front desk stating that a certain Dr. X desired a moment of my time. Given the seniority of this particular personage my attention was suddenly focused like Copernicus at the telescope. He was not in the habit of calling for advice, referrals, idle chat or, for that matter, anything at all. In fact, recent memory does not recall his voice on my handset. I was suddenly experiencing a feeling not remembered since walking steel 14 floors above the sands of Gulf Shores, Alabama, building condos. In an effort to keep this rated G, let's just say that there was a combination of nausea, giddyness, terror and an indescribable tingling in the nether regions.
With the pleasantries out of the way, I set about trying to glean the exact purpose of this unexpected communication. Initially all thrusts were parried as if I were at swords with a Musketeer. This man was in every loop that now mattered to me. If anyone knew my fate as relates to the recent 'quiz', it was he. The official results are not due for 6 days and they are attached around the nape of a lion cub with mama lying at her side. Any attempt to view said results before the official date are met with deadly force. Was I being tortured or teased? I was more than willing to be toyed with, I had already been brought to heel in a most auspicious way. This was no great stretch.
And then suddenly the he let it slip.....your scores were fine...you passed . Yes, there were bells ringing and angels singing. You must understand, I have invested 20 years of my life in this pursuit. Imagine being in the arena with the Emperor's hand perched shakily between life and death. I had just received a thumbs-up. A grant of professional life with a huge mantle of responsibility. You have been approved by the ultimate powers that be but are now expected to shoulder a heavy mantle of responsibility and tradition. Time itself ceased to flow. While the hands are spinning now, their rate remains slower than yesterday. I look back on those who have passed this same trail and realize that my feet rest on the shoulders of the proverbial giants. I am thankful to those who took the time to train me and all those who put up with me. My family has been patient beyond belief. My gratitude knows no bounds. I think I'll just let this percolate through my consciousness a bit.

Fear & Loathing in Houston

Well that was fun. Last week found me in Houston for a 3-day prep course that was well worth the time and money. Anyone who sits for their orals without taking the course is either brilliant (and should already have passed them) or they do not possess sufficient situational awareness to get out of the rain.
The exam took place on Thursday. While it will not likely cause me PTSD (unless I flagged it), it was still a gut wrenching experience that hopefully will not need repeating. While most of the questions were straightforward, it was the complex cloaked in simplicity that trips one up. There you are, being grilled by the leaders of the specialty who in former lives must have been professional poker players. You give a brilliant answer.....nothing. You make a rookie mistake....nothing. There is no way to know, at the end of the day, whether you were outstanding or completely out-of-bounds. It will make the next two weeks partially sleepless while the results are being tallied.