Gesundheit

Yesterday, I sneezed. Well to be accurate it was early this morning. Also, it wasn’t really a sneeze, it was one of those almost-sneezes. A non-sneeze. A snooze. Still, it was the culmination of a monumentally joyous experience. Let me tell you all about it.

I’ve been generally aware of the eventual need to sneeze for most of my time out here. I first got that pre-sneeze tingle several months ago. I knew it was coming, and I knew it was going to be big - one of those truly messy, mucus-rich, high G-force, double-barrel sneezes.

This one was going to require a tissue.

However, getting a tissue in Afghanistan is not as easy as you might think. I talked to our SMEs (subject matter experts), got estimates on the amount of tissue I would need to mitigate the effects of my sneeze and when I could expect final tissue turnover given an X-man working party working Y-hours a day for Z-days (and z-nights), looked up the tissue man-hour engineering utilization ratio chart in Field Manual Lima, briefed representatives from each nose-hair on the requirement, intent and ultimate disposition of the tissue, made countless adjustments, filled out the requisition forms, crafted a persuasive letter of justification, outlined the statement of work, staffed it all (in my enthusiasm, I failed to cross all my i’s and dot my t’s and had to redo and resubmit the paperwork), made my case in front of the Bodily-fluid Acceleration Review Forum, received funding approval from the BARF, requested delivery of the tissue-building materials, found out the on-hand materials were…not, resubmitted the tissue request and supporting paperwork for contracting, awaited sourcing of the tissue contract, took a quick but relaxing (relatively) break to herd some cats, provided the tissue specifications, escorted the tissue delivery personnel to the work site (my upper lip), drafted a FRAG-O to man the tissue working party, negotiated with adjacent units on the sourcing of the tissue working party personnel, deconflicted the tissue working party with a simultaneous but unrelated toilet-paper planning group, coordinated transportation, food and heavy equipment (forklifts, trucks, pneumatic fluffer, etc.) for the off-loading and placement of the tissue materials, ensured all tissue working party safety requirements were met and equipment was provided (gloves, eye protection, ear protection, throat protection, groin protection, soul protection, flak, kevlar, water source, boots), provided the morning brief on safe tissue handling, filled out an operational risk management matrix for the tissue employment, managed the timing and placement of the tissue with all stake-holders (the nose being the ultimate arbiter), took another quick (relatively) break to carve a life-sized stone sculpture of Joseph Heller using nothing but a feather and a steely glare, maintained accountability of the tissue working party, checked daily on the status of the tissue working party, submitted a nightly situation report on the progress of the tissue working party, synchronized my right hand with my left (ambidextrously resolving any disputes between them), adroitly modified the tissue plans and diagrams to accommodate ever-changing tissue-utilization requirements, and when the tissue was finally in place…

…well, you know, sometimes you think you need to sneeze, but it passes.

Lucky for me. This morning I got an e-mail that key parts of the tissue were emplaced too far to the west, obstructing my left ear canal.

Ah well.  Merry Christmas.