I'm the SOD (Surgeon Of the Day) on call tonight here at the Air Force Theater Hospital, and it's just after 1:15 AM. We've just "tucked in" two injured US troops who came from Baghdad, which is sort of a nightly occurrence. One of them had to go back to the OR on arrival here. I can't believe it's been two weeks since I last posted...sorry. It's been a little busier here lately, with lots of Iraqi thoracoabdominal injuries and our fair share of postoperative complications.

Thank the Lord for small victories. And really shout your thanks when you get big victories! We had two of those this week. The first one, who we call Lazarus, is a young man who walked out of the hospital (on crutches) this week after being shot in the groin and bouncing between Iraqi hospitals before being sent to us. The typically courteous referral letter from the Iraqi surgeon, written in both Arabic and English, starts out: "Dear Dr., Kindly I refer to you young male present with bullet injury..." His gunshot destroyed the junction of some important vessels in his groin (probably the same constellation of injuries as this guy) and he was so near death that most of us had never seen someone so physiologically deranged "come back to life." Thus the nom de guerre, Lazarus. (Briefly, for you trauma guys, pH 6.72, BE < -30) Our senior surgeon, the czar, remarked on the phone to me when I called him in the middle of the night, "He's a dead man. Oh, well, I'll come on in." So after a two week hospital stay, we didn't hesitate to snap a photo to remember Lazarus by.

The other big victory is happening as I write. Little 2 1/2-year old M, whose name and face I cannot show due to security concerns for his Shia family, has been with us for going on two months. He was badly burned over 45% of his body with an burn injury to his lung as well. One outgoing surgeon remarked, "You'll probably spend all your resources on him for two weeks, and then he'll die." Eight weeks later, with all his burns skin-grafted and healed, he's due to get on a plane in a couple of hours to fly to the a Shriner's Hospital in the US for rehab and likely some additional surgeries. It's really a tribute to the dedicated USAF and Army personnel here who labored over him for those two months that he is alive today. I hope to hear great things from this young man one day. I blinked back some misty eyes when his mother told me, "I will tell him about you every day that he grows up so that he does not forget."

The other thing you may notice in some of these pictures is the atrocity between my upper lip and nose. That's right, folks, it's "Mustache March" here at the AFTH. I started a bit late, but I'm catching up. It takes a dedicated team to grow mustaches for a month, but we're a crack unit, and victory will be had. And then, on the last day of March, there will be a shaving such as the world has never seen.

Thanks to all for your care packages (wow! there must not be any PowerBars left in Virginia!), and especially for the notes and emails. Your care for us is much appreciated. Two months down, two to go!