Well, I’m home. I’m finally here in San Antonio, with Steph, and I have to admit there is no other place in the world I’d rather be. I am once again reminded that I am easily THE luckiest guy in the world.

Now that I am done with my deployment, I figured I would share what I have come to call the five stages of a deployment. I’m not a doctor and this isn’t a scientific conclusion, but it’s accurate as to my experience and I believe to the experience of others. Whenever anybody asks me how it was I usually share the “five stages” because that’s honestly how I felt. So here they are. The Five Stages of a Deployment. As I see it.

It’s getting close; I’m finally coming to the end of this deployment. It’s literally become a 3, 2, 1 countdown. I leave in three days…and I couldn’t be any happier.

Today marks twenty three days from the day I arrive in San Antonio. What can I say other than I’m stoked. Very stoked. Too stoked actually, because now I am counting the days. The problem with counting is you can’t count fast enough. A number every twenty four hours doesn’t cut it…it’s too slow, too long…

This is going to be short. I don’t have a lot of time to write because I have a ton of school work this week, but something happened today that I had to write about.

When I said I would be on crutches for a few weeks I was lying; I didn’t know I was lying, I just didn’t realize it would heal as fast as it did. Today was the first day I was able to walk all day without crutches, although I do have a considerable limp and it takes me twice as long to get wherever I’m going. It still looks bad, but from a pain standpoint I’m doing OK. At least I tell myself that…

I can’t believe I did it, but I did. I busted my ankle. Or, as the doc says, “severely sprained” it. Either way, it hurts and this sucks. I knew I shouldn’t have tried to play basketball.

So, this is the week I’ve decided to get sick. I say “decided” because I like to feel as if I had a say in the matter. I didn’t. To be honest, I’m actually quite surprised this is the first time I’ve been sick since I’ve been here. In case you didn’t know: I’m allergic to dust, and this place is like the Times Square of dust mites. So the fact that this is the first time I’ve gotten sick since I’ve been here is amazing in itself (if you could see the bathrooms you’d be even more shocked).

In celebration of Cinco de Mayo, I want two things: A piñata hung up in front of me, and a bat in my hands. It would have to be strong piñata, one that wouldn’t break with only a couple strikes; it will take more than a couple to get rid of the stress. I don’t care what’s in the piñata, it wouldn’t be for me. I just want to be the guy to break it.

I was thinking today about how, as humans, we can adapt to any situation. It’s not something we’d like to do; at first we’d hate it, even be scared of it, but after a while we’d deal with it, survive in it, even thrive in it. Maybe it’s because I’m reading a book about a boy having to go through a similar situation, but for a while I was mesmerized by this idea. Then I realized that I myself am dealing with the same thing, although admittedly on a much smaller scale.

Oh no. I fear the monotony of this deployment is having its effect. I, along with everyone else here, am becoming a child, a little boy.