Spc Felicia Whatley
21 March 2008
Pending Possible MEB
This is how I ended up here at Walter Reed, and was medically evacuated from Baghdad, Iraq shy of only a few months of finishing my tour with the 65th Public Affairs Operational Center form Lexington, Massachusetts.
I was trying to reenlist by passing my physical fitness test; push-ups, sit-ups, and a two mile run. There is a weight component. My bipolar meds made me gain 50 pounds. I over slept one morning in December, so I met with my Commander.
I had been corresponding with my VA doctor and she said I could half the zypreza, that she couldn’t watch me, but that I could half it. In fighting to stay in the Army last October and getting a waiver from Walter Reed to deploy with bipolar and having the support of my chain of command, I explained the situation with LTC Perenick, my commander.
He said “Get a pill splitter. You are doing fine. If you want to half it, we’ll keep an eye on you and let you know if anything is up.” So I did.
A month later the LTC asks “What big speaker is coming to the CPIC soon?” I said, “Oh, the Iranian piece of shit” (referring to the Iranian President scheduled to come to Baghdad.) He said, “That’s right. Cruise on Whatley.” The same question was asked in the next coming weeks near the end of February and still the same response. He laughed and agreed.
About a week before our not-so-welcome guest came, I had stepped up my running of three miles a day and cut my meals to protein shakes and one solid meal a day. I got sick. I had a sick call slip signed by my SGM in my pocket, as I got dropped off in front of my living quarters. I couldn’t get the door to my HUMVEE open. It was jammed again. The TC (assistant driver) got out and ran to my door, and on her third try pushing the handle in and pulling it out, the door crunched open.
I quickly grabbed my large belated Valentine’s Day gift box from my family and body armor and ran to my hootch. I dressed into my pts, physical fitness uniform, called my mom, and thanked here, and then went straight to bed.
The next morning I got dressed to go to the doctor’s and realized, I did not have my weapon. I had left it in the HUMVEE and my fellow comrades had found it five minutes after dropping me off while accessing what was wrong with my door. They called my NCOIC and drove my M16 back to the CPIC-Central Press Information Center and handed it to the Staff Sergeant right in front of the Sergeant Major, who immediately told the Colonel.
I went to the doctor, got antibiotics for tonsillitis and went to worked where I received counseling on being given a Company Article 15. My punishment was to clean all the weapons in the arms room for several hours a night after my shift, for 14 days, while I was sick.
Loosing sleep, being sick, and trying very hard to loose weight, I became more ill by the 5th day. The illness turned into something of a flu-vomiting, cough, fevers, and fatigue, and supposedly a sinus infection to boot.
I ran a mission escorting media in the IZ. I dropped someone off and was coming through a security check point’s exit, and saw a sewage truck blocking my exit. It had stopped and was cleaning out a porta-potty the guards used. He motioned for me to back up.
I backed up and took the next right, taking me down the upstream of the checkpoint. The Peruvian guards were yelling at me and pointing their weapons. I stopped and tried to back up again. The escort cell phone went off.
It was my SFC Morierty shift leader. Knowing I was the only one the main escort vehicle, I panicked and picked up the phone. Frantically telling him I was at a checkpoint and had to go while backing up, I backed right into a concrete slab.
There was minimal damage on the bumper, but I did not know that at that time. I started to creep forward again, not knowing what else to do. The guards surrounded the vehicle, and I said “No comprende.” They found one that spoke English and I was told to back up again. I did so and made it back to the turn where the poop truck once was. I made a left and that was when the phone rang again.
It was my shift leader again. He told me where my next pickup was. I cut him off after that explaining, “I am at a checkpoint. I have to get off the phone. It is not safe.”
After completing that mission, I told Sgt Fernandes frantically what happened. I could have been shot. I was frazzled. He said not to worry about it, that he would fix the vehicle, not to tell anyone because I was just having a bad day.
That evening while cleaning weapons again, I asked SFC Morierty about wanting to see a Chaplin. Morierty is a snappy old man and he said something about how weapons cleaning is relaxing, and I started to get teary eyed. He pulled me aside. I said, “Do you have any idea what happened to me today? My safety was compromised. Do you understand, I am not all here. I really am sick. I want to see the Chaplin because I am considering an IG Complaint. Why am I being punished for being sick?”
The next day I went to the doctor and they gave me a new round of meds and quarters. The next day I had off. The following day I came into work and was told the Iranian President would be coming for a press conference at the CPIC today.
“Are you serious? That piece of shit is really coming today? He is a terrorist. He said he wants to wipe Israel off the map and the Holocaust never happened,” I said.
It would have been my job to set up his water, position the podium, and hand out translating devices. Being a Jew, I felt like I was being asked to hand out tickets to a Neo-Nazi fest.
“If that piece of shit comes in here and comes to the mike, you are gonna need to take away my weapon,” I said.
So they took it away and then gave it back. I handed it back. Soon thereafter, they had me committed.
I was air-evacuated strapped to a litter wearing pjs (they took away my uniform, dog tags, and ID) and babysat me with a line of sight Soldier from my unit to Landstaul Hospital next to bleeding IED casualties.
The reason for committing me, I was told was because I was bipolar, and according to the shrink in Baghdad I never should have been deployed in the first place. This was nine months into a 12- month deployment.
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