Uncle Andrew Ch. 01

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Uncle Andrew – Ch. 1

The background

This story is fiction. Any names, identities, locations or event similarities are purely coincidental. The individuals in this story are over the age of 18. It is a slow burn. I do hope you enjoy it.

As the morning sun rises just over the trees on the east side of my property, I sit outside on the wraparound porch looking over the lake below. I am surrounded by the natural beauty of the trees, the soft morning sounds, the singing of the birds and the light rustle of the wind coming across our land. Continuing to look to my left, I see a well-worn, narrow path. It is just wide enough for a pickup truck or an SUV; the one and only way in or out of our property. In the distance to my right is a shed, which she refers to as the hideaway. It houses our snowmobiles, dirt bikes, ATV’s and countless amounts of hunting and fishing gear. It also houses our most prized possessions. My maroon and her jet black Harley Davidson Roadsters. I chose maroon, my affinity to the Army Medical Department colors, hers jet black like her hair. We have ridden many fun filled miles on those babies.

While sitting here, if I stretch my neck and look towards the edge of the lake the view reveals the fire pit which contains the remnants of charred wood and ashes from our many dinners and evenings past. If I listen long enough I can still hear the laughter from many evenings of storytelling, from old war stories to other memories which bring joy, tears and much much laughter. As well as the silliness, the dancing and those fools singing different renditions of Happy Birthday for mine and others latest trips around the sun. But what is most important is the time we spend with those who are the closest to us, friends, new and old, all family alike. More importantly we salute and remember those no longer with us.

It was by pure luck I found this place when we started looking. It was a listing on a private realtor webpage. A true diamond in the rough, not quite a shack but it has space, character and potential. With hard work and after seven months we had this place livable, our full renovation almost complete. It was fifteen months after we closed on this place we completed renovations and made it our permanent home. It is almost a true retreat in the wilderness. When we started, we agreed that it was our desire and privilege to host our friends, hers and mine. These friends are aware that the door is always open and we do not mind their company. Whether it is for a regularly scheduled two-week annual gathering or for the occasional drop in. We are grateful to share what we have with our friends and some remaining family even when they make the feeble attempt at braving the lowering temperatures in winter spending Christmas and New Years with us, it doesn’t matter. The door is always open here in this beautiful place to the southwest of Casper, Wyoming.

****

It was April of 1985 when we first met Jim and his wife Patty. Becky, my wife and I were stationed at Schofield Barracks. The four of us quickly became friends finding many common interests. The work we did in the Army was hard so we played hard. We spent time together quickly becoming a foursome. Jim’s nickname was too easy for Becky to pick out. Rarely did I ever see Jim without a can of Pepsi-Cola in his hand. Becky started teasing him about it and started calling him Pepsi, and it stuck. From then on, Jim was known to everyone in our circle, and a few selected others as Pepsi. He didn’t seem to mind, or at least he never said anything to me or Becky.

Well most people know the Army has its ways, and the Army, being the Army, ensured that it was less than a year after we met Pepsi and Patty that they moved. We kept in touch through the good and the bad. Pepsi and Patty shared with us their moments of happiness including the birth of their daughter Kari. We shared that we were trying for a family but it hadn’t happened for us yet. Pepsi and Patty were shoulders to cry on and ears to vent to. You see, it was a challenging time for us.

When Becky and I got back from a week-long trip to Maui, she felt slightly ill and struggled for a few days with low energy. We assumed it was just stress associated with her work as an elementary school teacher, all of the planning and execution of the trip, as well as too much sun, too many cocktails and the fun-filled but very straining attempts for us to become pregnant. It was two weeks after we returned that she continued to feel weak, sick and just rundown. We thought and hoped that she was maybe pregnant but every home pregnancy test came back negative. She shared with me the hopes as she wasn’t experiencing her normal cycles and was certain she was pregnant. It was the third test which became the catalyst for her calling her doctor.

When we called and got her scheduled for an appointment with a physician at Tripler Army Medical Center. I worked with my Sergeant to free my almanbahis schedule and was able to take her to her appointment. So with a scheduled appointment at Tripler, we met her physician, answered a bunch of questions, which brought on a seemingly extensive checkup, then a few simple tests, but mostly blood work and a woman’s exam. Sadly there were still no answers which brought on another battery of appointments and tests, more blood draws and scans. Then a few more appointments and after six weeks the worst news that anyone could hear was dropped on us. The news was horrible, what did matter was that we were deeply in love and had so much life to live; all we heard was that my Becky was very sick.

She was diagnosed with Aplastic anemia, a condition in which your bone marrow stops making enough new blood cells. Becky appeared as strong as possible and tried to continue working but as a teacher’s aide now, as she didn’t have the strength for what being a teacher took. It was only a few weeks until she was moved to part-time.

Within the first month, we cried for a week, selfishly I was angry but didn’t show it, and then we were downright mad for a few weeks, but eventually found acceptance. We lived as much as we could that summer of 1987 when she succumbed six months after her diagnosis. Pepsi came to the service, Patty wasn’t able to as she was taking care of Kari, their baby girl. It was a semi-private, quiet service. Becky’s parents agreed that there had been too much suffering and just wanted something quiet, loving and respectful. My fellow soldiers were supportive as was my Army leadership, hell, even my Sergeant came to the funeral.

Life certainly tried to kick me in the ass as hard as it could but Pepsi was there to really pick me up, kicking my ass when needed over the phone but yes, he was there.

It was June of 1990 that Pepsi and I were reunited at Ft. Steward, GA. This is when I met a now five year old Kari, his baby girl. It seems according to a slightly precocious Kari, I was ‘her’ “Uncle Andrew”. It was a rewarding time for both of us but we focused on our careers, on the opportunities afforded, new friends.

Pepsi had his family as well. There are many rules and regulations associated with the Army and we followed as many as we could without getting in trouble. We truly loved what we did for the Army and understood that we did not tell everyone everything. Hell, Pepsi didn’t tell me everything at times.

Me? Hell, I still wore my wedding ring, I was still invited to cookouts and picnics and was forced to explain too many times why my military record listed my marital status as other, widowed yet I still wore my ring. It was brutal explaining time and time again how my beautiful bride passed a few years ago.

Pepsi on the other hand had to deal with the unexplainable and insane disappearance of Patty. He eventually broke down and started sharing with me that there were a few issues. She was bored at home with a child while he was seemingly gallivanting across the world. She needed adventure, her space and the nightlife. Out of the blue, Patty told Pepsi in a letter delivered by a babysitter when he returned from a training mission prior to deployment that she just couldn’t take it anymore.

During this most recent time away she decided to chase her lifelong dream of stardom in music to find herself. Pepsi, embarrassed by what was happening, didn’t share with anyone except me. I was there for him as he was for me. He just hired babysitters or live-in nanny’s to care for Kari when he was gone. Loving his craft and providing for his family, a true family man.

One thing my marital status allowed for was an additional dose of voluntary deployments as I had no one at home to worry about me. There were some troublesome deployments, some fun ones, a few good training missions. Still but stress filled times for Pepsi and the guys we hung out with. Yep, the life of a soldier. During one of my deployments, Pepsi and my ‘adopted’ niece, Kari was notified they were moving to Landstuhl Germany. I was jealous and rather pissed off as I would miss my dearest friend and his daughter.

Well you know history, and in 2001, the planes flew into the Twin Towers, the Pentagon and that field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania; all hell broke loose. It was February, 2004 when I accepted what would be my last assignment as the Command Sergeant Major for the US Army Europe, Combat Medical Command. My career had hit its peak; I was thrilled with what I had done in my career and who I had become. I have finished my Master Hospital Administration. So coupled with that and my last assignment, I needed to start thinking and planning to retire from the Army. After this three year tour in Germany, twenty-four years was enough for me. I made up my mind, in 2009 I would retire.

Adding to the amazing pleasantries and challenges in life, I found significant comfort and celebrated when Pepsi and I were voluntarily almanbahis yeni giriş reunited that February. It was like we were never separated and fell into an old routine. Pepsi had met a nice couple, Luke and Lori in a town named Kindsbach which is just outside of Landstuhl Germany. We soon became a group of five; six when Kari joined us. We deployed, did our jobs and had so much fun as a group. Enjoying life as best as we could.

It must have been challenging for Kari growing up in a foreign country, with a mother that vanished on her, a father that loved her more than anything and a string of nannies and babysitters throughout the years. Kari was in college classes with the University of Maryland, European Division studying marketing and business.

Kari was growing into a beautiful woman. I had just missed her 19th birthday. When Pepsi and I took her out for her “Uncle Andy” belated birthday dinner she looked so beautiful, acted with a maturity that was becoming of an independent woman, a star on the rise, an educated young woman with untapped talent. She was truly headed for success and will be breaking hearts along the way.

August of 2008 marked my sixth deployment downrange, Pepsi was on his fourth and Luke, well Luke was hospital bound most days. As a cardiothoracic surgeon, he didn’t go to the patients, they came to him. He was locked into the brick and mortar of Landstuhl.

It was about a month into my last combat tour when I started having these incredible pains and spasms in my chest. They would last for a minute or so then taper off. Some were so bad I would double over in pain not being able to breath. I know you are thinking dumbass, you are in the medical field, get to the hospital! Well, yeah but it wasn’t a heart attack so I wasn’t worried. It was during a very bad episode that my boss Colonel Sarah Knoll, a highly decorated and seasoned combat nurse, ordered me to get it checked out.

It was during a friendly and private conversation that she threatened to send me home if I didn’t get checked out, so I did; with her assistance and despite my resistance. Very quietly the next afternoon Sarah called the commander of the combat hospital and told them I was coming over. When I “checked in” I had a preliminary screening. I noticed my weight was dropping even more. By my count I was down thirty pounds. I spoke with a nurse, who I recognized but didn’t know we discussed fluid intake, sleep and what seemed like one hundred other things. When she asked about eating I told her that for the past few months, even when I was in Germany, I was having trouble swallowing my food. I chalked it up to stress and me eating too fast. I was supplementing my intake with protein shakes. Well after a whole lot more questions I was being referred to a gastroenterologist and being scheduled for an endoscopy.

Sarah basically took control from there calling the hospital in Germany. The next thing I knew I was on a plane headed back to Landstuhl. I didn’t want to admit it yet but I had a feeling that this was the end of my last deployment and an early departure of my Army career.

Understand there is nothing more detrimental to a combat soldier than telling him or her that they are being sent home as they are too sick to do their job. As it turns out, I was really sick, after the first endoscopy I was scheduled for a manometry test. During the first endoscopy, a biopsy was taken where they found traces of Barrett’s Esophagus as well as seeing a rather significant stricture in my esophagus. My lower esophagus and lower esophageal sphincter muscles weren’t working, they were in total dysphasia. What did that mean for me, almost immediate retirement? You see a diagnosis such as this disqualifies you for military service but first this means a referral to a cardiothoracic surgeon who specializes in the esophagus as well as an oncologist.

So here we go again, just like my dear Becky, I was now at Landstuhl and another battery of tests and appointments with a slew of healthcare professionals checking me out. Finally, I received my referral to a cardiothoracic surgeon. Pulling a few strings I made certain that Luke would see me. While I waited for him and the entourage of people that usually follow him around, an Army Nurse walked into the room.

As another round of questions were asked and answered I waited for Luke to arrive. I started asking questions, just inquiring with this nurse, her career and how she was doing and then finally how she liked working with a hard-headed SOB like Luke. At least that solicited a smile and a laugh from her. We chatted for a few brief moments but then I heard a deep baritone voice in the hallway.

“You aren’t the only hard-headed SOB around this hospital Sergeant Major!” Luke was almost shouting as he walked in the room.

I stood and shook his hands; we joked a little, laughed a little but then sat down asking him to not bullshit me and tell me almanbahis giriş straight what I was facing. Luke covered everything and talked about the previous tests, x-rays, the ph Bravo Capsule, manometry and latest endoscopy results. Luke questioned me regarding my eating and overall health. I was mostly concerned about my continued weight loss and capability to not swallow. I was down a total of 32 pounds only drinking protein shakes, eating yogurt and cottage cheese. I wasn’t able to swallow anything else.

Luke got a serious look on his face and said, “Andy, there is a surgical option which I will assist with. The great news is there is a specialist here. The bad news, it is a rough procedure. After surgery there will be tons of recovery, more appointments, and a dietitian referral before and after surgery. You need to be healthy for the surgery to recover, and then learn how to eat again and then your retirement.” He paused, shook his head and said, “My friend, this disease, Achalasia, ends your career.”

Everything started a few weeks after that appointment, pre-op testing, and meetings with several doctors, lots of research and then the final decision, yes, a surgery date was set. True to his word, Luke took care of me with a friend during my surgery but due to complications, laparoscopy wasn’t an option; part way through the procedure they switched to an open cavity procedure. After two weeks in the hospital, I was released from the hospital. Kari, now 24, basically moved into my apartment the first month after my surgery. She was bedrock who I could count on getting me back to follow up appointments until I was allowed to drive. It was April, 2009 that I was cleared for retirement from the Army.

To celebrate my 42nd birthday I signed a two year lease on a condominium just outside of Columbia, MD in search of my new career.

The new beginning and the call

The transition from Command Sergeant Major in the Army Medical Command, to Director, Admissions and Patient Services was one I looked forward to. My years of experience in leadership, personnel, customer service and the understanding of a major medical center operation, as well as my MHA, really set me up for success.

Now I will freely admit that Sarah Knoll’s referral and professional reference to the Chief Hospital Administration carried more weight than anything. Yes, Sarah cashed in a rather large poker chip and called a colleague, the Executive Nurse Director for the hospital system to get my resume passed around but it worked.

As I transitioned and continued my recovery I found my new rhythm. In total, I had lost almost forty pounds but was gaining some back. I was back to a good workout routine and became a changed person. In the last year I took lessons and bettered my golf game. I was playing and enjoying the game even more than previously. I made new friends including a few very select females. A few sought out a little more than friendship and a few that just wanted to be occasional friends with benefits. I was satisfied at times but had a greater desire for a long term life partner who I could enjoy life with. My vacations were few and traveling alone can be fun when I was able to find a few single ladies but it is also a challenge and a bore when those single ladies aren’t there.

It was about six months after I retired that Pepsi had decided to retire. Focusing his concern on Kari and her education. They stayed in Germany a couple extra months so Kari could finish her current semester. When they moved back to the east coast, he bought a house living only about 40 miles away near Baltimore. He was working as a security analyst for a three letter organization but never said which one.

When we are free, we get together usually on Saturdays or Sundays to enjoy a round of golf near his place or mine. There are some days we just hang out but regardless we always enjoy good times filled with laughter and a good meal afterwards. Every once in a while, Kari would join us, mostly to socialize. She wasn’t a phenomenal golfer but I loved her being around and I never declined but encouraged her to join us. ‘Our little family’.

One Saturday, she brought a young man, Blake Something along. He caught a significant amount of hell from Pepsi and me all day. It wasn’t a constant or a nonstop barrage of questions and comments about him and Kari but he needed to know how much we cared for her.

At one point, Kari almost crashed the golf cart when I screamed across the fairway “You better keep your pecker in your pants and away from my niece, or I will cut it off motherfucker!!”

Pepsi just laughed and applauded. When her golf cart came to a stop, Kari turned to look at me. She was beet red, and was giving me a scolding look. I swear at one point later in the day she smiled then winked at me.

That night I hosted dinner at my condo and for some reason Blake Something declined to join us. When I learned this I apologized to Kari. He seemed like a nice guy. It was after a second tumbler of Knob Creek that Kari kissed my cheek and hugged me tight thanking me for being her protector. It seemed Blake was nowhere near her standards and didn’t feel comfortable around Pepsi, let alone me.

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