San Antonio or BUST!

So, I have made it to the bustling city of San Antonio, TX. It took me 3 days with 22 long hours of driving and 2 stopovers. Aunt Marg and Uncle Darrel were kind enough to allow me to stay at their humble abode on Friday night, they furnished me with a fine meal and comfortable bed. I was extremely grateful. Day 2 brought new old friends into the picture. Friends from COT are always great to see! We had a rousing night of cards and dashed hopes because the Officer's Club failed to be open. But we had fun anyway. Day 3 was spent driving thru no man's land of northern TX...what is up with the concept of frontage roads :)! I am going to post a few videos that I made concerning my musings along the road (basically I had to do something with myself, very dangerous to leave Lindsay alone in her car for 22 hours). Be sure to look for them...

The FIRST week

I have spent the last 5 weeks in Montgomery, AL at Maxwell AFB attending a course fondly known as Commissioned Officer's Training (COT). I was one of about 110 students, ranging in ages from 22 to late 50s. We had 2d Lieutenants (O-1), all the way up to a Lieutenant Colonel (O-5). I attended this course with fellow nurses, lawyers (JAGs), health care administrators, chaplains, etc. All of us had one thing in common, we had been commissioned as officers prior to attending this course. And as time went on, we had more and more in common. Including sleep deprivation, bad food in our stomachs, sore muscles, bruises on our bodies, and increasing awareness that we needed each other to get through the next month.
Of course, the first week was HELL on earth. 20-hour days to get everything done, etc. We all experienced moments of "What did I get myself into?" We had our initial physical training baseline and manuevered an assault course with obstacles and walls to transcend. Looking back, there were fun parts, but it was not fun at the time.
To give you a taste of what it was like, here is a story:
I am standing at attention and Capt Lasso, our squadron commander, demands to know who is chewing gum (of course, me) and proceeds to say, "Either spit it out or swallow it." I swallowed it... where was I supposed to spit it, on the floor? As if that wouldn't have opened me up to a bunch of criticism. He then came about 3 inches from my face and said, "Ma'm, was that you, do think chewing gum is very professional and holds to having a military bearing?" To which I replied, "No, sir." I had an ulcer the first week.