Wounded.

I went for an invigorating bike ride this early evening. I think I might try to make it a habit. After all, I could stand to be in better shape.

Today I missed two classes because of four guest speakers for history. All were Vietnam War, er, conflict, veterans ready to share their stories. One man went through a heckuva lot in the same 36 hours. First, he managed to get severely wounded out on the field. He described and gestured that he had shrapnel all along his left side. As expected, he was treated and bandaged all up good as new and back serving his duty as a truck driver. However, just as he was about to unload his first box of ammo at one site, a missile launches into the truck (a direct hit!) and he is propelled into the air to some 50 odd feet away. In the process he managed to lose his entire left arm. Fortunately, he received medical treatment and someone found his arm. He was injected with more morphine than necessary and the doctor failed to mark his forehead with an 'M'. This causes the man's heartbeat to decrease enough to fool the doctor into pronouncing him dead. He's then shipped to a death ward inside a body bag --with his arm still detached -- only to open his eyes later. Then he's finally operated on! This doctor successfully sews his arm back on, but doesn't think the man will last very long. He's put in a helicopter to be transported yet another place when the helicopter is shot down.

Moral of the story: don't travel anywhere with this man.

Anyway, it was an incredible experience. I appreciate those who served in Vietnam.

Math homework, here I come.