After posting about the incident in Firehouse Subs, someone asked me about the Air Force story that I had mentioned in the blog entry. Considering I said I would tell the story later, I guess 3 years later is a good time. This is the long version, since it is a blog.
WELL . . . when I was 18, I had decided I would go into the Air Force. I had met with a recruiter multiple times was set to go to the medical processing facility in Tampa (by bus . . . by myself!) and pass a physical. "Okay, I'm healthy," I thought. "This should be easy." He asked me if I could lift 50 pounds over my head, as this is something I'd have to do to pass the physical. I had no idea if I could, had tried on a set of weights once, and wasn't sure if I'd be able to do it.
The recruiter gave me his best "I don't want to lose a recruit speech" that went kind of like this:
Kim, when you get there, the first thing you'll have to do is fill out a medical history form. They'll threaten you with huge fines if you lie. I don't want you to lie. However, if you had some minor ailment a long time ago that doesn't ever bother you anymore, DON'T write it on the form, okay?
I said, "Okay."
Ha. Starting to see where this is going?
I got to Tampa, went in to the facility, and the first thing they did was give me a medical form. And do you know what they did? They gave us a speech about huge fines if we lied on the form. It's a government form, you know. One of questions asked if the applicant had ever had problems with his or her feet. Well, that seemed like a relatively safe question to answer truthfully: I had fallen arches when I was in 7th grade. Did I even think about what the recruiter had told me? Of course I did! I just didn't think fallen arches in 7th grade was a big deal.
The next part of the physical required that I join a group of maybe 15 other girls, all in our bra and panties, to perform various agility exercises. We walked back and forth across the floor. We hopped. We duck walked. And then they looked at my medical form closer. "Kimberly Davis?" they called.
"Yes," I returned.
"You said you have fallen arches."
Uh-oh.
"Yes. My arches fell when I was in 7th grade."
"How did you treat it?"
"With arch supports we bought from the store," I apprehensively replied. WHY was this a big deal?
"We'd like to have you perform those exercises again for us, please." (GREAT!)
I had to do them by myself, still in my bra and panties, in front of all of those other girls while 4 people who I assume were doctors closely examined my feet as I performed them. They didn't have much to say, and I continued on throughout the physical thinking it was no longer a big deal. Last thing on the list? Lift 50 pounds over my head.
Then we were separated into groups. I was in a group with maybe 5 people and everyone else was in the other group. Did this set off any bells in my head? No. We were sent in different directions. When my name was called, I went into a small office where a man said, "Please sit down, Miss Davis."
I sat.
"You've been disqualified" were the next words out of his mouth.
"Excuse me?" I was shocked! It's only now, 20+ years later, that I realize that I should have seen the signs and expected this news. I honestly thought I was getting ready to go life some weights!
"You have abnormally low arches in your feet and have been disqualified," he responded.
The man told me that for every 1 man that wants to go in the Air Force, there are 5 women. So they're stricter with the qualifications for the women. (Isn't that discrimination?) I asked if a man with arches like mine would be allowed in, and was informed, "Yes." I was welcome to apply for a waiver, and if it was accepted, I could still go in the Air Force. Well, to make a long story a little shorter, I applied for the waiver, was declined, and applied again with xrays and a note from an orthopedic doctor saying I'd be fine. It was also declined. Therefore, there was no military career for me.
If I had gone in, I never would have met Steve and there never would have been a Carissa. I think it worked out just fine. =)
4 comments:
I think it worked out nicely, too! Besides, had they convinced you to sign up for 6 or 8 years (because you're so smart you could really go places with them), you might have ended up "over there" in the sand.
Oh, btw, the duck walking in underwear made me laugh out loud! Hilarious.
Oh, gosh. Can you imagine me with all that sand blowing all over the place? I'd have had a nervous breakdown and needed a medical discharge. THAT's what they needed to ask on the medical form! haha!
Awwww! I'm glad things worked out the way they did, too. Cause I never would have met you otherwise. Cause I wouldn't even have dreamed of trying to go into the Air Force. For the record, I can't lift 50 pounds over my head, and my arches are rather high. But they would have said, "Miss Boyd, please strip down to your bra and panties and duck walk across the floor," and I woulda' hauled my high arches outta there. (Like a duck, of course.)
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