#9 (c) THE V.A.

Some of you are probably unaware that I was the most highly decorated sailor in the Vietnam War. Ok, so I may be stretching this just a little, but I do take full credit for making one of the major decisions on board the U.S.S. Pomodon, (SS486). That was the name of the Submarine that I was stationed on during the Vietnam War. That much is true, however the rest of this may be slightly clouded as my memory is starting to fade.

When I joined the Submarine reserves back in '68 I was among the last group to be on Diesel boats and all submariners now go to nuclear sub school. The day I joined I met another kid by the name of Bart Wilson. Strange as this may sound, it true. We signed up together and our service numbers are one number apart. We went to monthly meeting for a year together, went on active duty on the same day in Long Beach, we were sent down to San Diego on the same day, were assigned to the same submarine, spent two years on the Pomodon together, and were released from active duty on the same day. We have stayed in contact over all these years and he is one of my best friends. I do not know exactly why our lives have been entwined as they have, I only hope when he dies this curse can be broken so I can continue on with my life.

Now where was I? Oh, yeah. It was August 14, 1968 and we were at periscope depth (approximately 60') in the war zone, off the coast of North Vietnam. The tension of the crew was high as we had been on liberty in Hong Kong just a couple of days before and most of the crew hadn't sobered up yet. The Captain made a 360-degree (this would be so much simpler if they only put on a degree symbol key) sweep of the area and lowered the periscope. "I don't like the looks of things out there, Oberg why don't you take a look?"

I turn my hat around so the rim would not interfere with my view, and told the Captain to raise the #1 periscope. He pointed to all the stripes he had on his hat and then to the total lack of strips on mine so I decided it would be best for all concerned if I raised it myself. There off in the distance I could just make out the outline of land. I switched the scope form low power to high so I could get a closer view. There was no doubt about it. It was definitely the outline of land! I quickly lowered the scope and said "Captain in my opinion I strongly recommend that we get the hell out of here." The Captain thought about it for a minute and said that he concurred with me and turned the sub around and we headed back to Hong Kong for a few more days or R&R. And that is how I won the War!

Because of my heroism under fire, I now qualify for Vietnam Veterans benefits, which means I can go to the V.A. Hospital here in Long Beach. As you may or may not know is that I have been suffering from varicose veins in both my legs since my days standing lookout watches on the submarine. I have put off getting them stripped; please refer to my previous communication. But last week July 2 was the day of the surgery and many of you have sent letters, telegraphs, and e-mails. (You did, didn't you????) If not that's ok, you still have time to send a get well card and make any excuse you want, cause with all these pain pills I've been taking, I'm dumb enough to believe it.

They gave me a list of "do's & don't" before surgery. Things like don't eat after 12:00 midnight, have a designated driver drive you to the hospital, leave all your valuables at home, you know the usual things. They wanted me there at 6:00 am so Loren came by and picked me up and off we went.

After being checked in and then double checked to ensure that the name on my wrist band was indeed the same one that was on my I.D. card things went into full swing. The first order of business was to have my legs shaved! So there I am lying mostly naked due to the fact that my hospital gown was not much bigger than a baby's bib. I don't know why but all the nurses at the V.A. or either vastly over weight black ladies or middle aged Filipino, all of whom are exceptionally friendly however. I was lucky to have a great nurse by the name of "Liz." The first words out of her mouth were, "My lord child, where did you get all that hair?" So she was shaven and shaven, and hair is flying out in all directions and then she pulls up my bib and starts shaving parts that should never be shaved. About this time in walks another black nurse that could pass for Liz's identical sister and she starts on my other leg, and before I know it there's not a single hair from my waist down. There so much hair all over the place it looked like I had sat down in the middle of a catfight. I thanked Liz for all that she had done and inquired if this meant that we were going steady now, and what she was doing after the operation?

Now they have me lying on this table with half a dozen tubes and wires hooked up to me. The doctor comes in and asks if I'm ready and if I had any questions and I said that I was indeed ready but that I had a couple of questions. "First of all, am I supposed to go into the “light” or run away from the “light?” They don't really make it clear in the movies." He said that he wasn't sure himself so I told him that if I saw any light, just to be on the safe side, that I'd just hang around close by and not commit myself one way or the other. He said that it sounded like a good plan. Then I asked him "Why are you still just "practicing medicine" why haven't you graduated yet?" and the next thing I know there's some lady looking me in the face saying "Lenny, Lenny, it's time to wake up, it all over!" I don’t remember a damn thing!

By this time my mother and Loren had arrived and they (the doctors) started to roll me into the recovery room, and just to prove to them that I was in control, I threw up! It wasn't that much, just some yellow stuff. "That'll show em!" Loren turned a few shades paler than me and ran out side for some fresh air.

They gave me a nice room all to myself, that had a window with a great view of…you know I don't rightly know as I never looked out but 'm sure it was just grand. My mom stayed around for a while, and then got bored. She wished me well, kissed my forehead and whet home, leaving me all alone in a strange bed, in a strange room, with a bunch of strangers.

Both of my legs were completely wrapped in bandages, so tight that my left leg was starting to tingle, so I rang for the nurse and had her re-adjust the bandages so that a little blood could get down to a few of my toes. Ah, much better.

Because I had threw-up after the operation, they inserted an IV into my left arm and started a slow drip of some kind of clear fluid. I tried to explain to the nurse that I have not “thrown-up” but had in fact “thrown-down” that this IV was completely un-necessary, but this fell on “deaf ears,” which was indeed true as the nurse actually was deaf and relied totally on an hearing aid.

Soon a middle aged Filipino nurse came in and acquainted me with the fine art of a “bed pan.” She explained in great detail; how I should twist slightly to the left, raise my right “cheek” and carefully place the pan under my butt and do what ever I needed to do, then place the pan back to its original position and ring for the attendant to come in and remove the contaminated container. She asked if I was in any discomfort, to which I replied, “No, but I’ll take a few pain pills if you have any extra ones lying around.”

Alone again, I amused myself by experimenting with the remote bed adjuster to see just how many positions I could get the bed into before I would fall out. This is way better than the “Craftmatic” one you see in all the late night TV infomercial. But soon this too became mind-numbing so I did what I do best, fell asleep.

Around two in the morning I awake having to piss like a racehorse. It’s that stupid IV; it’s been dripping all night! Damn! So I grab my handy bedpan, twist my body to the left, rise my right cheek, inset pan and …nothing, I can’t do it lying down in bed!

Sorry I haven’t finished this one…I hope to finish it real soon…