MEPS - The First Visit

MEPS – oh, what a joy!

Your day begins at oh-dark-thirty, standing in a line in the freezing morning rain (My first MEPS visit was mid- Feb. Yup, it took me THAT long to sign in!) with another hundred knuckleheads just as dumb as you for actually WANTING to be there! You walk through the door, get screamed at by a civilian DOD employee to move quicker, get your damn jacket off, and get your damn ass downstairs to your branch of service office! (Have to say, I found that the uniformed folks were pleasant as could be at MEPS. It was only the civilian staff who gave everyone crap.) I did as told, got my file from the National Guard office and brought it back to the main desk for processing. All seemed well, they had my name and info in the computer . . . “Here, just take this form up to the third floor and we’ll get you . . . Oh, wait! You’re over 40???” And CRASH!!!! There went all the smoothness of my day. See, the Army will take you up to age 42, but if you are unlucky enough to have passed your 40th birthday, they don’t make it easy for you. Every exam, every question, everything you do . . . there’s MORE of it if you’re over 40! The lady at the main desk told me to go sit on the side and wait because I had to bring special forms with me everywhere and they had to put them together. So I sat, and waited. And waited. I waited until every single recruit in the place had been sent to wherever they needed to go and THEN they called me up to begin the in-process. (Did I mention I was already hungry & cranky?) I arrived at 0430, was the third person on the line, and I wound up being the last person they processed in for the day at about 0900. Yay!

They finally send me upstairs and I’m well behind everyone else, so it means more waiting as the people running each station (eyes, hearing, etc.) have already moved on since everyone else is done. First was hearing: I put on the earphones and clicked a button every time I heard a tone. I was in a room with a 20-ish guy and the woman running it told me I didn’t have to meet the same standard as him, since I was “older” so not to worry. Had to laugh when she came back in with her eyebrows up in the air. “Damn, you got a perfect score! I’ve never seen that before.” She tells me, then has to inform the kid that he failed the hearing test. I felt bad for him but I have to admit it was a little satisfying. Next came blood pressure – no probs. Then it was onto documentation and medical history questionnaires. OY! Four hours to fill out five pages because it has to be done in a specific manner and somehow, somebody in the room managed to screw up every question. They wouldn’t let us move on until everyone in the room was done correctly, which was good for me – I was no longer behind but I had the damn forms done –correctly- in under ten minutes. Next was vision, which I was worried about. I’ve worn glasses my whole life and the eyes ain’t getting any better with age. No biggie though, my vision is well within Army minimums. Best thing at this station was the woman running it (she was 110 at the least!) started at the wrong end of the line, so I was back up front again. Yay, me!

Next up was blood & the piss test. I think the biggest shocks of my day came here. The ignorance of some folks boggles the brain. I watched the three guys in front of me curse out the lady taking the blood samples because:

1. It hurt.
2. They’d been waiting too long
3. They took the women in the room first.

Now when I say curse, I mean CURSE! This woman is doing her job and they started calling her the worst words you can call a female. I kid you not! By the time I got up there, she was on the verge of tears (Very nice little Spanish woman. She did NOT deserve to be spoken to that way!) She read my file and cringed because I was –you guessed it- over 40! “I’m sorry, but I have to take three extra vials from you,” she said, waiting for my outburst. “No problem, take as much as you like. I’ll make more!” She laughed and we started chatting while she got to work. Well, she stuck me three times without hitting a vein (hardly unusual for me) and she flinched again, expecting a tirade; especially when she told me she’d have to call her supervisor because she’s not allowed to do more than three sticks on one person. I told her it always took 5-6 sticks to get blood on me and not to worry about it. Her supervisor came over and he was really nice. The young woman stood next to him as he stuck me and told him: “I wish all our patients were like this guy, he’s an angel!” The supervisor got me on the first stick and we chatted while he drew copious amount of blood. He asked what I was planning on doing in the Army and when I told him I was going to be a Medic, I made a friend for life! He’d been an active duty medic for 12 years and was going back in as a NG medic himself. He’s also 40+ so he thought it was great I was going in. Let me tell you, the simple courtesy and politeness I showed these two folks made a HUGE difference for me later on; especially with the supervisor. For future reference, I’ll refer to him as My Buddy.

Next I moved on to the piss test. Simple as could be: stand on this line, whip it out in front of a watching Med-Tech so they can verify you’re not swapping someone else’s urine for yours (I assume this had been a problem in the past – ewww!!!) and fill the sample cup. When you’re done, bring it to the counter, let him test it, then dump it out, wash your hands and move on. Simple, no? Obviously not. I caught my second shock of the day when the dumb-ass next to me decided he was “pee shy” and turned away from the Tech to “Get his flow going!” (Yea, he announced it to all of us, just like that.) The Tech lost it on him. He told the dumb-ass he’d have to start the test again because he’d violated the process. The recruit started cursing and screaming at the Tech, even threatened to throw the cup of piss at him. Next thing, in come the MP’s who snatch the kid’s file, tear it up, and they bounce his ass out of the MEPS. (Actually, they locked him in a small room for a few hours while he waited for his recruiter to come get him, who –I imagine- was in no big hurry since the kid wasn’t getting in!) Brilliant, no? This is what I see as my biggest stumbling block in the future: having to deal with kids this immature on a daily basis. (Serenity now! Serenity now!)

Next I moved on to the actual physical exam with the M.D.’s. I went into a room with 30 other guys, stripped down to my underwear , and proceeded to bounce around through the goofiest poses, balances, and jumps you’ve ever seen. Of course, my fat old ass looked markedly out-of-place amongst all the 18 year old jocks and track stars. Funny though, I still fared better on the testing than most of them. Kids had muscles, but no balance or flexibility at all! Here is where I had my biggest worry: the weigh-in! The Army has maximum weights listed by age/height but they’re only quick guidelines. The true test is your body fat percentage. If you don’t pass the weight tables, they do what’s called a “tape test”. They measure your waist and neck three times each, then do some calcs on the computer to see if your fat % is within limits. If you fail THAT, then they put you through the ARMS test – a grueling five minutes of stair climbing, push-ups, sit-ups, etc. where they test your physical capabilities. I’d heard that few folks pass it and I did NOT want to have to take it! Well, I knew I wasn’t going to make the tables (I was still over by 12 lbs) so it was down to tape for me. They measured me up and ‘voila! I hit the requirement EXACTLY on the mark! I figured it was all a breeze after that. Silly man! I should know better.

The Dr. who examined me was the oldest & tiniest woman I’ve ever seen. I kid you not, I was afraid to breathe near her for fear of blowing her skin off! The true joy came when she brought out the rubber glove and Vaseline (Yup, the rectal is a requirement for the over 40 set!) Well, I figured it wouldn’t be too bad. After all, she was barely over four-foot tall. I mean, if ya’ gotta get it done, the tiny old woman is your best bet, right? Oh, was I ever wrong! I’m telling you: this woman was digging for gold in there! I swear, when she was done I was looking for brown stains on her elbows! (Okay, that’s really gross, but DAMN! Did she have to make me take a deep breath and push deeper three times????) It all seemed good until she started reviewing my medical history, then the real problems came up . . .

But, this post is already far too long, so we’ll cover that next time!

Later!