If you have been reading some of my recent posts, you are probably aware that I have been talking about some of my exploits and experiences after being assigned to the Joint Interoperability Test Center (JITC) at Fort Huachuca, Arizona. I have just begun a whole series of posts about my exploits at Fort Huachuca, Arizona. I expect that series of posts to last for quite a while. My story today centers around a subject near and dear to my heart, hunting. It was December at Fort Huachuca, and that meant it was time for the late deer hunt. Arizona has two deer hunts and early hunt and the late hunt that coincides with the deer rut. Most hunters will agree that the late hunt is the better hunt of the two. While it is true that the deer are more skittish during the late hunt because they have been spooked by all the hunting during the early hunt, they tend to get more careless and stupid during the late hunt due to the rut. Thus, the late hunt is usually the better hunt. I usually took the first day of the hunt off from work. That first day of the hunt usually started on a Friday. This particular day happened to be Thursday, the day before the first day of the hunt. Why am I telling you all of this? That is an excellent question. Because. No. Not just because. But because. Cuz stupid shit happens, just when you don’t expect it. And I sure as hell wasn’t expecting it. No. Not it. Stupid shit. See. Here’s what happened. And I told you that this was stupid shit. I went to bed on Wednesday night. I was fine. Not a damn thing was wrong. And I mean, not a damn thing! Well, sometime between going to bed and getting up on Thursday morning, shit happened. And remember, now, this was stupid shit. I went to get out of bed, and my goddamn legs wouldn’t cooperate. When I say that they wouldn’t cooperate, I mean, they flat ass would not move. No way, no how. Something similar to this had happened to me once before. But when it did, I couldn’t move my whole damn body. A few of my neighbors had to carry me out of my apartment to a car to get me to the emergency room that time. This time, it was just my legs that wouldn’t move. What are you going to do? Call the Ghostbusters? I don’t even think that there is such a thing. I did the next best thing. I called my right hand man, Master Sergeant Hammond. He asked me, “What’s up, Sir? Are you running late for work? I replied, “Not exactly, Brian. I need your help. Could you come to my quarters ASAP?” “Sure, Sir. What’s up?” “I’ll tell you when you get here.” Here’s a great thing about good NCOs, they don’t ask a lot of questions. They just salute the flag and move out. Master Sergeant Hammond was one of those guys. He was outside the door to my quarters in ten minutes. By that time I was already dressed, and my wife and daughter had helped me to a chair next to my bed. I told my daughter to fetch the chair from my desk that had the wheels on it. Then, I asked my wife to show Master Sergeant Hammond into my bedroom to where I was sitting. He looked at me and asked, “What the hell’s going on, Sir?” I replied, “Hey Brian, my legs decided to stop working. And when I say that they stopped working, I mean that they stopped working. I cannot move them. My wife isn’t strong enough to get me from that chair with the wheels on it into a car. That is why I called you. I need your help to get to the hospital. I’ll explain everything on the way.” Well, it took a bit with both Master Sergeant Hammond and my wife maneuvering, but they got me into the car. Then I asked my daughter to put the chair away. I told my wife that I would call her from the hospital when I was ready to be picked up. Then, Master Sergeant Hammond and I left to go to the hospital. While on the way to the hospital emergency room, I explained to Master Sergeant Hammond that I had gone through an ordeal similar to this but worse once before. It was then that the Army had found a broken vertebrae in my neck and some damaged nerves in my neck and back. I didn’t press the issue then because I wanted to finish my career in the Army. Hammond was understandably concerned. He said, “Jesus Christ, Sir! One of these times, this shit could happen, and you could wind up paralyzed.” I looked at him and said, “Yes, there is always that possibility. But not today. Not today.” “What do you think they’re going to do for you?” “Probably the same thing they did the last time when I told them I wasn’t going to let them fix the glitch.” “Well, what the hell was that?” “They gave me a shot in the ass with a big ass needle loaded with a fruit cocktail of drugs. I don’t know what in the hell was in that fruit cocktail but it knocked my ass out. When I woke up the next day, I was feeling as good as new. Yes Sir, as good as new. I’m hoping they’ll give me another one of those fruit cocktails today. Cuz here’s the thing. The first day of the hunt is tomorrow, and I am damn sure not missing the first day of the hunt.” “Has anybody ever told you, you’re crazy, Sir?” Well, come to think of it, every now and again, as a matter of fact, yeah.” We arrived at the hospital emergency room, and Master Sergeant Hammond got me checked in. I told him he could take off and I would call him later from home. After the doctor examined me and gave me my muscle relaxant shot, I don’t remember much. I do remember calling my wife and telling her to come to the hospital to pick me up. The doctor had put me on ninety-six hours of bed rest and gave me some pills. The ninety-six hours of bed rest meant that I had Monday off as well. What that really meant was that I had four whole days to hunt if I woke up fine the next day. Cuz, as I had told my Master Sergeant, I was not going to miss the hunt. The next day, Friday, the opening day of the deer hunt, I went out for the hunt with a few of my buddies and experienced no other exercises in futility.
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