In 1998 I was posted from the CSOR to the HMCS (Her Majesty's Canadian Ship) St John's. I wasn't really very impressed with this. I wore an Air Element uniform. When I was posted to the Fleet Diving Unit (Atlantic) I was referred to as their "Token Zoomie". I was the only "Sky" blue uniform among the Navy blues.
On the St John's there were a few more "Sky" blue uniforms, but not that many.
I had been promoted, in KAG Kanada, to Commander and been appointed as the Ice Dragon Fleet Commander. Botaq had just been appointed Senior Command Officer, KAG Kanada, and we were putting the logistics together for my being able to participate long distance as Fleet Commander.
In 1998, we were not as connected as we are today. Being on the ship was a further restriction. To send an e-mail, we had to save it to a disk and have the Communications section transmit. When an e-mail arrived, it was saved to a disk, and then given to the member.
We could only send e-mails once a week. Instant Messaging was not even a consideration. We were impressed with this because the alternative was snail mail.
The Commanding Officer of the ship even joked about my Klingon rank, having two Commanders on the one ship. His rank was Commander. When we set out for the NATO exercise in September, he asked me to bring my Klingon costume. I was not sure what he had in mind, but I welcomed the recognition and approval of my interest in Trek and participation in Klingon fandom.
Prior to deployment all personal have to be medically certified as being physically fit. I did have a medical condition, but it was deemed not to be serious enough to interfere with the deployment.
I can remember as a very young boy being shooed out of the room by my mother so she could talk about "woman issues" with her friends. I can also remember thinking that I was lucky to be male, as women seemed to have a lot of issues.
Males have issues too. It seems the only time they are discovered are when they interfere with our daily lives. I had an issue for a few years. There was no pain and only slightly inconvenient.
A name was put to my condition when I was being screened for the NATO exercise. What I had was a hydrocele. I had no idea there was a name for 'it'. What is a hydrocele? I didn't know the name, but I was very well aware of the symptoms.
My scrotum was the size of a grapefruit. It was so large, I had to turn sideways to pee. More than once while using the public urinals, I was asked what I was looking at!
At the time, Sue was more concerned about it than I was. I was actually kind of proud of it and Sue told me more than once that I had the biggest balls of anyone she ever met.
I was cleared medically to proceed on the NATO exercise, hydrocele and all.
When we were well underway, we stopped in the Gulf Stream and took advantage of the warm water and warm sea air. The BBQ's were lit, and we were swimming in the gulf waters. This was all new to me. Guys were jumping off the ship into the water. I was just a tad hesitant because of the armed guards that stood watch in case of sharks. These guys were sailors, not infantrymen. I just did not trust their aim!
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| This Sailor could not look me in the eyes. |
I found out why the CO wanted me in my costume. He had watched the members of the SonchIy at the various events hosted by the Military. He also had a sense of humor.
One of the exercises that was planned was for the HMCS St John's to be boarded by US sailors. The role the HMCS John's was to play was to be a freighter suspected of transporting contraband. This was also before 9/11 and the mood was not as intense as it was to become later.
The CO wanted me to be in my Klingon costume as the US bording party entered the bridge of the St John's. He wanted to see their reaction when they realized there was a Klingon sitting in the Captains Chair, commanding the ship.
After a week at sea, it was a very big deal to enter the Straight of Gibraltar. It was my first time in the Mediterranean. I could see Spain on one side and Morocco on the other. This was the first time I had seen both countries. We were going to be docking in Naples, and I was planning on visiting Pompeii. I was looking forward to being a tourist for a couple of days.
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| My "Gowron" stare. |
When we docked in Naples, I became a tourist. I did get to Pompeii and I found a computer with internet access at the USO. I used my Yahoo account to correspond with Sue, Alan and the Ice Dragon Fleet from the Dock in Naples.
One morning I awoke with a pain in my abdomen. I thought it was my stomach, but the pain was radiating from my groin. I went to the PA (Physicians Assistant), the Canadian Military equivalent of a Medic.
He was aware of my condition, as he cleared me for the deployment. I could not ignore this any longer, and living on a ship meant climbing and going down ladders. This was no longer an option.
When I went to the Sick Bay, the PA told me that he could not make a determination about my condition. That had to be made by a doctor. The Duty Doctor was on the Spanish ship. He would have to make an appointment with the Duty Doctor and when that was done, he would have me called to the Sick Bay.
I returned to my bunk, having been excused all duties. A little more than an hour later I was called to the Sick Bay. I met the PA and we made our way to the Spanish ship.
As we were making our way across the jetty the PA was making small talk, telling me what to expect should I have to be sent home because of the hydrocele. As we crossed the brow, while my arm was up in the salute, (The brow is the ramp that connects the dock with the ship. The country's flag flies on the aft or back of the ship.), the PA said, "Oh, by the way, the Doctor is a woman. Do you have a problem with that?"
I had been ambushed by the frakin Medic.
I was being asked to make an immediate decision. This was not going to be my finest moment, however I reasoned that she was a doctor, been through medical school, and was serving on a warship. Obviously, she was competent. I could and would 'man' up.
We made our way to the Spanish Sick Bay. The Doctor was simply, lovely. Olive skin, long raven black hair and a great figure. All I could think was that I was glad Sue was on the other side of the world. She would never have believed this.
The Doctor and the PA went off in a corner, and it was evident that she did not speak English and the PA did not speak Spanish. This just got better and better. The PA came back and told me to drop my pants. I knew my troubles were not over when her eyebrows arched and her eyes widened. My comfort levels were quickly diminishing.
Another huddle by the Doctor and the PA. Whispered broken English and what I presume was broken Spanish; a pause in the conversation, then both turned and looked at me with what I hoped was clinical interest. The PA came over to me and stated, "this is a condition that they don't usually have a chance to see", indicating the Doctor. "Would you mind if she brought in her assistants so they could familiarize themselves with this condition?"When I went to the Sick Bay, the PA told me that he could not make a determination about my condition. That had to be made by a doctor. The Duty Doctor was on the Spanish ship. He would have to make an appointment with the Duty Doctor and when that was done, he would have me called to the Sick Bay.
I returned to my bunk, having been excused all duties. A little more than an hour later I was called to the Sick Bay. I met the PA and we made our way to the Spanish ship.
As we were making our way across the jetty the PA was making small talk, telling me what to expect should I have to be sent home because of the hydrocele. As we crossed the brow, while my arm was up in the salute, (The brow is the ramp that connects the dock with the ship. The country's flag flies on the aft or back of the ship.), the PA said, "Oh, by the way, the Doctor is a woman. Do you have a problem with that?"
I had been ambushed by the frakin Medic.
I was being asked to make an immediate decision. This was not going to be my finest moment, however I reasoned that she was a doctor, been through medical school, and was serving on a warship. Obviously, she was competent. I could and would 'man' up.
We made our way to the Spanish Sick Bay. The Doctor was simply, lovely. Olive skin, long raven black hair and a great figure. All I could think was that I was glad Sue was on the other side of the world. She would never have believed this.
The Doctor and the PA went off in a corner, and it was evident that she did not speak English and the PA did not speak Spanish. This just got better and better. The PA came back and told me to drop my pants. I knew my troubles were not over when her eyebrows arched and her eyes widened. My comfort levels were quickly diminishing.
I was naked from the waist down, my pants were gathered around my ankles and I was undergoing a "short arm inspection." I wasn't going anywhere soon, so I agreed.
The Doctor's assistants were two female PA's, or Medics. Three, very Mediterranean women, all gorgeous, with their gaze focused on my crotch. I am sure I have seen this scenario in a porn movie somewhere, however being the center of their attention was not stimulating.
The PA, my PA and the Doctor went into yet another huddle. He came back to me and told me to pull my pants up. The Spanish Doctor was not able, (or qualified), to make a determination on my condition, and I was now being refereed to the US hospital in Naples.
Later that day I was in the US hospital. I was given a choice of an operation in Naples or being returned to Canada. If I stayed in Naples, I would be operated on in an Italian hospital. I wanted to have any surgery done in Canada so I could at least talk to the doctors myself.
I had to wait a few days before the flight home. I spent my time at the USO storefront, as I was excused all duties. Alan and I communicated by internet via Yahoo. We thought it would be fun if he, as Senior Command Officer, ordered me to return to Canada. We would build up a story to bring me back to Canada. Alan sent out an e-mail via the KAG Kanada list ordering me back to Canada. I replied that I was making my arrangements and would give my itinerary as soon as I had it.
The interesting thing was, no one in the club participated. Not a word. My thoughts were that the assumption by the club was that I was in trouble with the Military.
My only regret is because of the hydrocele I did not get to sit in the Captains Chair. It is also a Photo Op I regret missing.
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