They immediately hospitalized me for two days, shot me full of every antibiotic in the Middle East, and hit me with steroids like I was Lyle Alzado. While I was in Iraq, I had acquired a case of amoebic dysentery (likely from the water) that had effectively rendered my bowels completely useless. It went on for a couple of weeks (I’m not smart about health) before the flight surgeon who lived next door to me physically drug me into the clinic. And, like a dumbass, I drank a glass of water while we were eating.Ī couple of days after I returned to Qatar, I started to get sick in a way that I’d never been sick before. One of the guys I worked with suggested that we go to the little shawarma shop by the front gate to get something to eat and, being a fan of shawarma, I decided to go along with it.

Having not eaten prior to my 7 hour roundabout flight into Iraq, I was famished. Unfortunately, due to issues with the contractors that staffed the chow halls in Iraq (go fuck yourself Haliburton!) the chow hall was closed. On one occasion, I made the trip to Baghdad like I had several other times, and like I always did I set out to gorge myself on the (relatively) good food for the 48 hours I was there. These trips were the best because a) I got paid double time for being in an active war zone and b) the chow hall on the Air Force base I would visit was exponentially better than the shithole we ate at in Qatar (Thanks Haliburton!). All in all it was a sweet gig, and every few months I would fly into Baghdad to do some work with the guys assigned there. About 10 years ago, I spent a year in Qatar working as a contractor for the Air Force.

First time teen gay scat