A/N: My continued thanks to Gameson221b and your faithful reading and reviewing. It's nice to be able to share this part of John with you...and that we can worry "constantly" together. To all of my readers: I hope you like it. Please do let me know what you think of this little "Journal"!
Disclaimer: I don't own it. If I did, John would have more back-story... C'mon, Steven and Mark... get going!
Friday.
I feel I should clarify something. That dream... It didn't... After the incident, we went through a week-long debrief, while I began recovery in hospital.
I nearly lost my arm. Had triage been run differently, I would have. But I was important. I was a god-damned doctor. They ended up sending me on a medical evacuation helicopter to some hospital in Switzerland.
Three surgeries later, all of the accessible shrapnel had been removed, and I was on my way to healing. Physically, anyway. The army-issued psychologist came by once a day to remind me of what physical trauma could do to the mind.
I snapped. I started yelling at him, told him I've given that cautionary speech to the men I helped in the field. 'Make sure you've got someone you can talk to.' I didn't need to hear it from some brass who graduated from the academy, but never saw a day of live combat. Pisshead.
He didn't come back. I'm good at driving people away with these bouts of temper. Bad habit...
A/N: And there it is. After a busy week, and finally being able to post an update to the regular story... Whew. Not "whew" like a weight has been lifted, just "whew" that I had the mental freedom to do it. That freedom, it's a relief.