Enter 9-11 one week after graduation from A&M and I was off to Officer's Boot camp in the United States Army. I was 22 years old and thought I was a player both on and off the field. I look at the Air Force calendar on the wall at the Michael E. Debakey VA Medical Center in Houston, Texas and realize many years have passed since that day she gave me the clap. I did not learn her name or ever see her again, but that started a fire that still burns very strong today.
I like women and I like to fight. I like to fight so much, the US Army let me fight a lot and evidently now, my Army shrink thinks they over did it. I have had increasingly violent nightmares over the last year to the point I sought out help. I figured they would write a prescription, but Noooo, they decided I was crazy.
"You are not crazy Sir, you are fatigued. I'm writing you a couple of prescriptions and I want to see you again in a month." My personal VA doctor is a woman of about 50 who is as tall as I am and looks like a Farmer's wife with wide hips and nice full bosoms and I ask her what my chances are of re-enlisting.
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