Boot camp, continued
So the first week or so was more processing which included issuing clothing and materials, medical clearances, and other necessary stuff. During medical processing, there was this guy who kept on bumping his junk on my behind, which is not acceptable at all. So I had to say aloud, “dude, you’re touching me,” a couple of times. He kinda continued so I kinda made fun of him saying “I guess the only bad thing about being a chick magnet is you’re also a dick magnet.” People laughed, and he kinda shoved me one time acting like he was being helpful. Then when we left our temporary room to our permanent room, he chose to sleep next to me, and one day I woke up and whispered his name. He acted like he was sick and he essentially got in trouble because he was kicked out of our division. Later on we watched a video on hazing and how it’s not allowed, and there’s this guy in the video who bullies another guy kinda doing the same things this guy was doing to me, so he must have spoke with someone who already went through boot camp. Anyway, people started to call me the ASMO P.O. At boot camp there are people who have leadership roles, and they are given the title of a Petty Officer, so for example, the person in charge of the mail would be the Mail P.O. There were probably a couple more people I could have gotten set back.
Anyway, so soon after the medical processing, we had to take the physical fitness assessment and you get a $2,000 bonus if you pass. I was still sick from the vaccinations, they probably gave me an extra dose of whatever because I was super sick, but I really pushed myself to get that bonus.
Overall, not taking things personally, boot camp was a good experience, I saw it as something I had to get through and as an opportunity for me to demonstrate who I am and the abuse. We worked out most days which I really enjoyed. The food was good and we ate plenty. I was getting in really good shape, building muscle and losing stubborn body fat. People must have gotten envious and upset at my fitness progress, because I’m sure there was a motive to make me quit, and my fitness progress is counter productive to the motive. So one day, I chose to eat a healthy dish no one else was choosing, which made me feel bloated during a sustained run later that day. I continued to feel bloated until dinner, when it turned into an upset stomach and the smell of food made me feel nauseous. I didn’t eat much dinner and started to feel sick. I eventually vomited, and when I vomit, I vomit aggressively, probably because I have a strong core, I don’t know; so it kind of scared everybody and they called a training time out, which usually is only supposed to typically happen when someone is seriously injured. Anyway, so the RDCs call an ambulance even though I said I was okay. I tell the ambulance that I’m okay, so they have me sign something saying that I willingly denied help from the ambulance. All I wanted to do was lay in bed, but I wasn’t allowed to because you can only lay in bed when it’s not bedtime if you have the medical paperwork that says that you are sick. So since the medical facility at boot camp was closed since it was a Friday night, all I was able to do was sit on the floor or stand and drink water. This recruit asked me if I felt feverish, and I said no, even though I did. When I couldn’t hold down water, the RDC said that he was going to send me to the hospital next door. Since the medical facility was closed and I couldn’t lay in bed, I agreed, and a boot camp driver took me to the hospital.
I’ve never had food poisoning before, so I kept on considering that I had food poisoning, but I wasn’t sure until I looked up food poisoning on the internet after boot camp. So when I go to the emergency room at the hospital, I tell them my symptoms, and eventually they have me lay in bed, take some medication and eat some sweet snacks. Since I’ve been demonized, the nurses and doctors were being mean and treating me like crap, so I started talking back to them telling them how terrible of people they were, and they must have had some kind of epiphany or some kind of realization because their initial hostility and aggression ceased. I remember saying that this would be another story for the book, and now here I am writing about it. Maybe it was their guilt of knowing I was intentionally food poisoned and they were trying to cover it up; maybe that’s why the recruits and RDCs were freaking out when I was vomiting aggressively.
So since I told them I had a cough, the doctor had a nurse take x-rays to see if I had pneumonia. I don’t think I’ve ever had pneumonia, but I didn’t have pneumonia; I was running well, getting in good shape, and was much healthier than I was when I ran during the physical fitness assessment weeks prior. Anyway, some time passes and then they tell me that they are going to admit me to the hospital because I have pneumonia, and I thought, “wait, what? I have pneumonia!? why was I vomiting?” So I was like, whatever, it’s Friday, I’m not going to miss anything at boot camp over the weekend, so I won’t get set back as long as I get back to boot camp by Monday. So they put me in a wheel chair and take me to a room a couple of floors up. I go to one room, but the sheets weren’t changed. So they take me to another room. It was actually kinda cool; I was able to watch TV, had a phone to make phone calls, and room service delivered food I ordered from a menu. I was hooked up to an IV that had antibiotics. The nurses were nice, but there was this one nurse who I think intentionally hooked me up to a medication that made me feel nauseous, which stopped when she made some changes.
So I forget when exactly, but I call my stepmom to get my sister’s cell phone number because I don’t have it memorized; I only have my stepmom’s and dad’s cell phone numbers memorized. So I call my sister and tell her that I’m in the hospital, and she doesn’t really sound surprised, because she already knew. Anyway, we talk for a bit, I get my other sister’s phone numbers and call them and chat for a bit. Then one night I was talking to my sister and she tells me how my cat urinated on my bed, which doesn’t really make sense because I built my own Murphy fold-down wall bed, which means the bed should be folded up so there would be no way for my cat to urinate on my bed. Anyway, somehow the phone call ends and I was supposed to call back, it was late and I was sleepy, so I fell asleep and didn’t call back. Next thing I know, I wake up in the middle of me starting to urinate in bed, which never happens. Kind of weird, but I actually stop myself from urinating and make my way to the bathroom. I didn’t urinate too much, but it was enough to wet the furthest sheet just slightly. Was that a coincidence? I’m not sure, but it doesn’t seem like it, and when I got back to boot camp, everybody knew that I wet the bed, as if my family wasn’t already humiliating me enough.