Ed Fieg's Tour Winds Down

From Lisa Fieg comes this note from her brother Ed Sr. who is in Afghanistan and ready to come home -- and we are ready as well!

King Bibby (that's his real name) is an American doctor who works with Ed.  Here's an entry King put into his journal for his family.  Said Ed, "I received a lovely note from his mother."

"By now I have become keenly aware that I personify everything the British hate about Americans and it has been very difficult to work with them. I am working in a British facility and by nature they do not offer much flexibility. As a matter of fact they are very narrow minded, overburdened with their own heavy layers of regulatory oversight, and absolutely do not wish to be told any different or tolerate loud and rude Americans such as I was perceived.

Many of the Americans with whom I work would agree and it has been a very frustrating situation. Fortunately, Colonel Ed Fieg, an Air Force Emergency physician with whom I work has been a mentor whose good will and wisdom has been more than any words can describe. I have learned that adversity is the opportunity to achieve good things and prove your naysayers wrong.

One day we had 8 casualties, which was a chaotic mess but as a result of the Colonel’s “mentoring sessions” I took charge and led the other physicians successfully through what needed to be done to provide treatment for all the injuries. My most rewarding moment came when I led a resuscitation and everyone listened intently to me as I directed the medical care. I could tell all eyes were looking to me for direction and I knew I had finally won some acceptance. Ed was smiling at me and it made me feel fantastic. My mentor gave me his approval, which was something I treasured.

These two events were very rewarding for me personally. Nobody really knew how much humiliation I had endured and how hard I had worked to become the senior Medical Officer that I was expected to be in what was for me a very difficult environment.



With that being said, the events of the night of July 31 would test my very last fiber of will to comply with what was being expected of me. At so many levels, I was tired, frustrated, and wanting to go home, at least to my hooch. Ed was the number one ER physician and I was his backup but our unwritten pact is that we stick together with everything and neither one of us goes home until all the work is done.

As the evening approached we both wanted to go home when the steady stream of casualties commenced. At 1045p we thought the end was near when we were told that 6 more low acuity patients were on their way and they would arrive soon. I was miserable. I was tired; the constant gnawing of insatiable hunger was worsening and I was not convinced that the night shift physician really needed our help for the incoming minimally injured Marines.

The nurses wanted us to stay because the night shift physician was new and they thought he might need some additional training. By now I just wanted to scream in misery because I had no desire whatsoever to bend any further for anyone. I was tired of nurses telling me what I should do and tired of the British telling me how to act. My whole body hurt from my longer runs and exercise. I was tired of wearing my uncomfortable uniform. I didn’t have anything more to pour out of my soul, particularly if it wasn’t really needed. All I could do was envision my will as a hardened piece of steel rod that I had to grunt with all my strength to bend. At 130a I finally left the emergency room and five and half hours later was paged again for another patient.

What a debt of gratitude we -- and the British, I might say -- owe to these brave soldiers! Enjoy these photos:

Ed and his "Mercedes"

Ed Fieg in the doctors' lounge in Afghanistan -- counting the days till he's back in the U.S.