From Korea to the Arctic: A Military Spouse’s Adventure in Remote Medicine

The Aurora Borealis in Gambell, Alaska.

I cry every time we leave a duty station. Joint Base Lewis-McChord was no different, but I mourned more than just the move—I grieved leaving my patient panel and team at the Veterans Affairs clinic, our Army organization, and the beautiful Pacific Northwest. As we boarded the Patriot Express for Osan, bound for Camp Humphreys, uncertainty hung like a cloud. 

Now, just a year later, my life is split between two places, both vibrant in culture. I spend six weeks on Camp Humphreys as a military spouse and six weeks in the Norton Sound region of Alaska as a traveling medical provider. My work takes me to places few ever see, Gambell and Stebbins, Alaska, villages perched along the Bering Sea where life revolves around tradition and survival. 

You never know what surprises your next PCS may hold, and this is a glimpse into my current adventure. 

Waiting for the plane on the runway.

The Journey to the Edge of the World

Traveling to my assignment is an adventure in itself. On each trip, I fly Incheon to Seattle, Seattle to Anchorage, then Anchorage to Nome, and finally, via small aircraft to the villages. These planes are lifelines to the communities, bringing groceries, mail, teachers, and medical providers like myself. Patients also use these planes to travel to and from appointments and students, athletes, and drummers to games and competitions. Recently, our region suffered a tragic loss—a small plane and its passengers—gone on the arctic ice, a sobering reminder of the risks taken to serve these isolated areas.

Nome is where I buy groceries. The two stores in town will box up your groceries before you head over to Bering Air. Providers normally stay a night on each end of our journey and have a shared home where we exchange stories and last beers before heading out or home. My favorite restaurant, Airport Pizza, is owned by a Korean National from Incheon. This is also the restaurant that will ship a pizza to you via air. The joy of tracking your pizza on the flight app is unrivaled after weeks of frozen chicken and vegetables!

Landing in Nome, Alaska to make a grocery run.

Nome is also the endpoint of the Iditarod, the grueling thousand-mile sled dog race that pays homage to the historic 1925 diphtheria antitoxin run. In many ways, modern healthcare in the Bering region still mirrors that race—an ongoing fight against distance, elements, and time to deliver care. 

Practicing Remote Medicine in the Arctic

The clinics in the villages of Gambell and Stebbins each have several exam rooms, a dental suite for visiting dentists, a trauma room, and a behavioral health room. Our supplies and emergency evacuations are dependent on the weather. If the wind is too strong or the fog too thick, medevacs are grounded, and we hold critically ill or injured patients, sometimes for days. 

The clinic in Stebbins, Alaska

A typical day is a crash course in adaptability. I may start my morning with a well-child check, perform a well-woman’s check-up by lunch, and spend my evening helping stabilize an acutely ill or injured patient(s). There are no set roles here—providers register patients, do vital signs, administer vaccines, start IVs, and cook meals for those we’re holding in the clinic. I am a primary care provider but when hands are short, I assist my emergency medicine colleagues, sometimes taking shifts with these patients so they can sleep, other times taking less but still critical patients so they can take a more critical patient. Days like these bring me back to my Army medic and ER nurse days.

Before my last rotation, I completed a rigorous trauma certification, something that has profoundly shaped my practice. I am so incredibly grateful for my emergency medicine colleagues who share their knowledge and encouragement so freely and encouraged me to complete the certification. Iron sharpens iron, and it has been a true luxury to be exposed to new concepts, research, and specialties.

Exploring a whale graveyard from last year’s hunt in Gambell, Alaska.

Grocery store run in Gambell on the Honda.

The Real Rockstars of Village Medicine

I want to acknowledge a group of providers unique to Alaska and the Indian Health Service and a pivotal part of the state’s current healthcare delivery. Community Health Aides (CHAs) and Community Health Aid Practitioners (CHAPS) are non-degreed medical providers who receive rigorous training (over years) to provide both primary care and emergency medicine in the absence of medical doctors, nurse practitioners, and physician's assistants. These folks are “doc” and just like NCOs, they are the backbone of healthcare in rural Alaska. They manage primary care conditions and emergent injuries. They are professionals who must frequently treat friends and family under the medical supervision of a provider, often hundreds of miles away. In some of the smaller villages throughout the state, providers only rotate through every few months. In Gambell and Stebbins, I have had the honor to work amongst the CHAs and am forever grateful for their knowledge of both rural medicine and local tradition. 

There are also dental and behavioral health aides. The behavioral health aids offer support and counseling, and the dental health aides can do uncomplicated tooth extractions and cleanings in the absence of a dentist. 

Our plane flies at altitudes less than 10,000 feet, Grocery store run in Gambell on the Honda. making the views epic.

Life in the Villages of Alaska 

To visit the Norton Sound region is to understand resilience! The people here, predominantly Yupik and St. Lawrence Island Yupik, have survived for generations in harmony with the land and the seasons. Winter brings ice and polar bears, while spring and summer usher in whale hunts—traditions where every part of the animal is used and shared amongst the community. Seals and walruses are harvested year-round and continue to be a pivotal nutrient source. 

Transportation is by “Honda”—the term used for all four-wheelers. The runways double as airports; we drive to the edge of the airstrip, wait for our plane, and help load and unload our own bags. In winter, you board fully dressed in Arctic gear, knowing the cabin will be frigid but the views unparalleled.  

Keep in mind that 80% of Alaska is not on the road system. In both Gambell and Stebbins, there are no malls, restaurants, or theaters. Life revolves around the essentials: the school, clinic, grocery store, and the single-room USPS mailroom. The cold is relentless—temperatures drop to -40°F with windchill. On the winter solstice, the sun graces us for only about 4 hours. In the summer, it shines for nearly 20 hours. 

Despite the harsh conditions, joy thrives. Basketball is the heartbeat of these villages. High school games pack the gym and the whole town plays together at open gym nights. In Gambell, weekly drumming and dancing ceremonies keep traditions alive, and the artists tell stories of these proud warriors’ history by way of intricately carved masks, figurines, and jewelry. One of Gambell’s famous carvers is a Smithsonian artist, and I am proud to own one of his intricately carved owls made of walrus ivory. 

Chasing an Arctic sunset in Gambell, Alaska.

The Strength of Military Spouses

If military life has taught me anything, it’s how to adapt. We learn to rapidly integrate into new communities and roles, and in many ways, that skill has prepared me for this work. As a military spouse in remote medicine, I’ve discovered that adaptability is not just a skill but a survival tool, essential for navigating both the clinic and the community. The providers I serve with are often prior-service military, military spouses, or military “brats.” It takes a certain kind of person to sleep on clinic floors, live in close quarters with strangers, endure frozen pipes, and use honey buckets when plumbing fails.

Every time I leave Korea for Alaska, I pack my life into 150 lbs—clothes, medical equipment, cold-weather gear, and food. And every time I return, I carry more than just my bags. I carry the lessons of resilience, adaptability, and finding joy in the unexpected. 

My living quarters in Gambell, Alaska.

Routine keeps me grounded. I track my nutrition, prioritize movement, and make the most of my small space. My essentials are a yoga mat and a set of dumbbells. I begin my mornings with Spanish lessons on Duolingo, listen to medical podcasts, and carve out time for fitness. These simple rituals remind me that growth is possible, even in the most unexpected places. Growth and routine seem so hard at home when life is busy- silently repeating a lesson I learned early in the military and on medical missions, and one my husband likes to use; “Comfort is the enemy of success”. 

But sometimes, comfort is just want is needed and can be seen in shared blueberry pancakes on weekends with colleagues. The warmth of the sun on my face after weeks of oppressive wind and snow and village dogs accompanying me on my walks. These small joys make the hard days worth it. Another “Armyism” found in the Artic- “hunt the good stuff”.

“It takes a village” echoes in both of my current worlds. Here on Humphreys, it looks like an Army family checking in on my husband, popping in to take my dogs out during his long duty days and sending me messages of support.

Beautiful Moments in A Harsh Land

Yua before making the trek to Stebbins to Nome, then to Anchorage and his new home in Eagle River

Many moments have etched their way into my heart, praying a medivac would land to take away a septic patient and another to land for a pregnant momma to deliver in a hospital and not in my arms. New Year’s Eve in Stebbins, as I stood outside, the Arctic wind biting my exposed skin, watching the northern lights dance across the frozen sky with a celebratory symphony of gunfire from the locals. Peeping Russia from the beach in Gambell on a clear day after a colleague took me on the Honda for birdwatching. 

The time I returned after six weeks and was on a walk to the store, all bundled up I felt little arms encircle my waist as I heard, “I remember you; you are 41 and live in Korea”. You see, it is important how old you are and where you are from, and it was so humbling to be a guest and positively remembered. 

Then there was Yua, the abandoned and frozen puppy who found his way to us in the days before Christmas. We broke the rules, brought him in, and swiftly coordinated a rescue operation. My sister and brother-in-law fostered him, and he is now living his best life with his forever family in Eagle River, Alaska.

Alaska’s Military History

During World War II, the Alaska Territorial Guard was formed as a volunteer force to protect Alaska from a potential Japanese invasion. The Territorial Guard played a crucial role in securing the region’s coastline. Today, Alaska has one of the highest per capita rates of military service in the United States.

Gambell, Alaska, located on St. Lawrence Island, was a strategic location during WWII, serving as a vital early-warning outpost due to its proximity to Russia. The village saw military installations established for surveillance and defense. In subsequent conflicts, Alaska has continued to play a key role in national defense, particularly during the Cold War and modern military operations.

Washateria in Stebbins, Alaska.

The Unseen Challenges of a Military Spouse in Remote Medicine

For all its beauty, life in the Arctic is not without struggle. Current Medicaid cuts threaten healthcare access. Cancer rates are disproportionately high due to chemicals left behind from U.S. military operations on St. Lawrence Island during WWII. Entire communities, like Stebbins, still lack running water other than a shared washateria where everyone does their laundry and showers. Global warming is changing hunting patterns, making subsistence living increasingly difficult.

And yet, these first people remain. They are warriors, balancing modernity with tradition, thriving in two worlds. They are NOT apologetic or willing to back down from traditions that have kept them alive for centuries!

Grocery store entourage.

Finding My Place & People

It’s a rare privilege to be a guest in two places and get to experience two very beautiful cultures. My heart is full on both fronts, and it is not lost on me the parallels both of these worlds share. My time in the military and as a spouse has prepared me for so much of life and this professional adventure. I didn’t set out to fall in love with the beautiful Yupik and St Lawrence Island Yupik people or the beautiful frozen tundra, but I did and will carry the lessons I learned from these people and my colleagues forever. 

So “Thank You” Uncle Sam, this life is anything but boring!