Its been two months and one day since I've posted - sorry! I'll make my excuses short and get back to what I do.
1) Work has been insane. As an aside (meaning on my own time), I've fallen into providing process engineering support to an engineer and inventor who has developed some material that provides ballistic protection at weights that are significantly lower than what is currently out there. Imagine a humvee that is not so top heavy it flips every time you turn a sharp corner or imagine body armor shaped like your body at half the weight of what our soldiers are currently wearing.
Amazing!
2) I've been tired. Every once in awhile I get wrapped back up in me. I'm tired of being the caregiver. I just want to be a husband or a dad. I don't want to be the husband of the disabled Iraq vet. I will always be that but sometimes I like to pretend I'm not and so I stay away for a time.
Our lives are OK right now. Summer is coming and no longer having the ability to regulate body temp is definitely starting to affect BBG so I am wary of what summer will bring. I am already starting to find my children tucked in at night wearing an occasional ski toque. On a brighter note, she is involved in some sort of project which will be highlighting women vets and their lives post Iraq/Afghanistan. A photographer and writer was here today and will spend some time with us over the next little while learning about our lives.
Smart money says she'll be half crazy by the end of the week. Thank god for the meth lab in the basement!
It felt funny. I know I write about all of this so its not exactly a secret but it's different somehow when you say it out loud. Perhaps there is comfort in not saying things out loud. There is certainly a certain level of comfort in the anonymity that comes with being the average unknown redneck writer in the blogosphere and I must admit I kind of like that.
So I'm back - Tomorrow, I'll share a story about a friends son's sad return from Iraq and his efforts to get retired and have his VA disability completed. As per normal, it could be mapped at the same speed as continental drift.
TIA
Earl
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
30 percent of soldiers in Iraq have considered suicide
My next story about a friend and his struggle to get care for PTSD is being delayed for another day - sorry.
Every once in awhile, someone drops a newspaper article or story from around the world about PTSD, life after Iraq/afghanistan, Military suicide rates etc. I can't imagine why! Of course, you know the drill - veteran care and suicide is my cause and will be for the rest of my life. Its kinda close to home.
Today I received two links:
Link # 1 is about a Maine vet who says he has been saved by a story about a Massachusetts Marine who took his life after running into the road blocks I talk so frequently about.
Link #2 is the story of that young Marine who lost the fight.
Aside from the shame I feel for the failure of our system to provide for one Marine, lost to his family and friends forever, I am proud that there are still Americans out there who feel the pain of every loss.
Here are the links:
#1
http://thephoenix.com/Boston/News/78245-Gulf-War-vet-saved-by-Phoenix-article/#anchormore
#2
http://thephoenix.com/Boston/News/78044-Soldiers-committing-suicide/
I ask you this: If you know a service member who is struggling to adjust to life after Iraq, Afghanistan or other points unknown in the Global War on Terror. Talk to them. Beg them to get help. Make the call for them and most important of all, follow up to find out if they are getting help or running into barriers.
I know it becomes difficult and interrupts your lives but they need you. They need us. Please - help them overcome the barriers.
TIA
Earl
Every once in awhile, someone drops a newspaper article or story from around the world about PTSD, life after Iraq/afghanistan, Military suicide rates etc. I can't imagine why! Of course, you know the drill - veteran care and suicide is my cause and will be for the rest of my life. Its kinda close to home.
Today I received two links:
Link # 1 is about a Maine vet who says he has been saved by a story about a Massachusetts Marine who took his life after running into the road blocks I talk so frequently about.
Link #2 is the story of that young Marine who lost the fight.
Aside from the shame I feel for the failure of our system to provide for one Marine, lost to his family and friends forever, I am proud that there are still Americans out there who feel the pain of every loss.
Here are the links:
#1
http://thephoenix.com/Boston/News/78245-Gulf-War-vet-saved-by-Phoenix-article/#anchormore
#2
http://thephoenix.com/Boston/News/78044-Soldiers-committing-suicide/
I ask you this: If you know a service member who is struggling to adjust to life after Iraq, Afghanistan or other points unknown in the Global War on Terror. Talk to them. Beg them to get help. Make the call for them and most important of all, follow up to find out if they are getting help or running into barriers.
I know it becomes difficult and interrupts your lives but they need you. They need us. Please - help them overcome the barriers.
TIA
Earl
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
President Obama Screws Veterans
Urgent News so next friend from Iraq with PTSD will have to wait another day - sorry!
President Obama told Representatives from Veterans Groups Monday that he is still considering a proposal to have treatment for service-connected injuries charged to veterans' private insurance plans.
I may not be a Democrat but I am proud of the process we have in place and Obama is my president and our Commander in Chief. The above statement is a slap in the face to our wounded and injured veterans.
We as a nation owe free medical care for injuries received in the line of duty. It is our debt, our social contract, with the men and woman who have stood in harms way in our names.
How is it acceptable for us to expect our wounded and injured to begin footing the bill for injuries incurred in our name.
This is our nations shame and the Commander in Chief is the primary perpetrator. I don't know how else to express it. Maybe its time to start hanging flags upside down again.
TIA
EARL
President Obama told Representatives from Veterans Groups Monday that he is still considering a proposal to have treatment for service-connected injuries charged to veterans' private insurance plans.
I may not be a Democrat but I am proud of the process we have in place and Obama is my president and our Commander in Chief. The above statement is a slap in the face to our wounded and injured veterans.
We as a nation owe free medical care for injuries received in the line of duty. It is our debt, our social contract, with the men and woman who have stood in harms way in our names.
How is it acceptable for us to expect our wounded and injured to begin footing the bill for injuries incurred in our name.
This is our nations shame and the Commander in Chief is the primary perpetrator. I don't know how else to express it. Maybe its time to start hanging flags upside down again.
TIA
EARL
Friday, March 13, 2009
PTSD Story
True to my word (more them less me)here's story of a friend and poet just returned from his second tour in Iraq as an infantry officer.
Tomorrow will be friend two, aviation commander two years after Iraq.
SO here's the deal, friend one today, I'll call him Z. I got an e-mail from Z that really bothered me. He just wanted to "Hey I'm back, alive, writing my ass off and still hiding in a bottle but less than I have been." He's a great guy and a very talented poet and budding screen writer. We met in between tours and because of a shared military skill set and that whole Operation Homecoming thing, hit it off right away. I missed being able to communicate more but you know how sporadic comms are from Baghdad. Needless to say, it was more random than not and we missed out on a lot of what we've been doing for the last two years.
Z was an Army Officer, Infantry to be exact and very good at it. He also managed to get lucky and when his time was up, the Army managed to accidentally let him go (An extremely unusual thing for a one block company grade infantry officer - OK for any Infantry Officer with a pulse and less than a major felony). He went to Texas, to be in an affordable place where he could be by the beach, write, drink, and see the world go by - preferably in bikinis. I think he deserved it.
For those of you who are not intimately familiar with the military, everyone who signs on the line, owes a minimum of eight years. Now, in most cases - for Officers, this means six years of active duty and two years of IRR (Individual Ready Reserve. During your time on the IRR, you are subject to recall at any time.
Z was just shy of his 8th year when he opened his mail slot to find the letter. I call it the letter because to call it anything else would be to make it seem like normal correspondence - "Dear Z, Ed McMahon is on his way. Please wait by your door" or "Dear Z, if you don't pay your bill, we will disconnect your water on Friday."
Despite being more than a little pissed off about being invited on a long date with Uncle Sam, Z showed up at Fort Somewhere, did his month of training and went merrily on his way to Iraq for twelve or more months in a somewhere shitty kind of place.
Z could have dodged the bullet. He was definitely suffering from PTSD among other crap you carry home with you from the big sandy but he is after all an Army Officer. He did not believe he could say no when so many others were still walking in harms way.
The Z who came home this time is different from the friend I knew when he came home last time - his writing is angrier, when he can even make himself write it down, he drinks for the drunk not for joy of a little fun with good friends, and he seems sad. He is not my dog ran away sad. He is fuck the world, I shot my dog on a street in Baghdad sad and I can't sleep and I don't really want to anyway sad.
He said to me recently that he doesn't understand why it bothers him so much this time. He saw much less death and every day was not a sphincter clenching I will die here today kind of day. It was actually pretty damn boring this time aside from the mortars and the odd Baghdad fight but it feels worse. (Poetic license here) Some guy bumped into me in the bar and I beat him until it dawned on me that he was unconscious on the ground and I couldn't tell if the blood was coming from my hands or the mess that was his face.
Good news - Z was rushed out by a friend and didn't go to jail.
He asked me about BBG and how she's doing and how she's dealing with her PTSD. I told him honestly that some days are good and some days suck but more are better now. I reminded him that shortly after she got out of the hospital and I finally let her drive that she forced a woman in a mini van off the road for driving too close to our vehicle. (sadly no poetic license here)
Good news - BBG had no weapon so she did not disable the woman or her vehicle.
I said to him the same things I have said to BBG and to my other friends with PTSD. You need help. You need to go to the VA and wait until someone sees you - even if takes fourteen hours, two days or a week. You need to get into a group with other OIF/OEF combat vets and talk about it. You need to get off the booze or that friend who saved you from jail will fade away and you will be alone. Most of all - talk with friends and know that you are just like tens of thousands of others. If you work through it, it may never go away but it will dull with time.
You have to be open to help and know that without it, you will lose yourself in the rage and the pain and in the middle of the night, if you have no one, you can call me.
He hasn't called and I haven't heard from him lately. (probably because I suck and got wrapped in my own whine for soooo long that I forgot about a friend.)
I hope to god its because he's out doing things that us married guys only dream about.
TIA
Earl
Tomorrow will be friend two, aviation commander two years after Iraq.
SO here's the deal, friend one today, I'll call him Z. I got an e-mail from Z that really bothered me. He just wanted to "Hey I'm back, alive, writing my ass off and still hiding in a bottle but less than I have been." He's a great guy and a very talented poet and budding screen writer. We met in between tours and because of a shared military skill set and that whole Operation Homecoming thing, hit it off right away. I missed being able to communicate more but you know how sporadic comms are from Baghdad. Needless to say, it was more random than not and we missed out on a lot of what we've been doing for the last two years.
Z was an Army Officer, Infantry to be exact and very good at it. He also managed to get lucky and when his time was up, the Army managed to accidentally let him go (An extremely unusual thing for a one block company grade infantry officer - OK for any Infantry Officer with a pulse and less than a major felony). He went to Texas, to be in an affordable place where he could be by the beach, write, drink, and see the world go by - preferably in bikinis. I think he deserved it.
For those of you who are not intimately familiar with the military, everyone who signs on the line, owes a minimum of eight years. Now, in most cases - for Officers, this means six years of active duty and two years of IRR (Individual Ready Reserve. During your time on the IRR, you are subject to recall at any time.
Z was just shy of his 8th year when he opened his mail slot to find the letter. I call it the letter because to call it anything else would be to make it seem like normal correspondence - "Dear Z, Ed McMahon is on his way. Please wait by your door" or "Dear Z, if you don't pay your bill, we will disconnect your water on Friday."
Despite being more than a little pissed off about being invited on a long date with Uncle Sam, Z showed up at Fort Somewhere, did his month of training and went merrily on his way to Iraq for twelve or more months in a somewhere shitty kind of place.
Z could have dodged the bullet. He was definitely suffering from PTSD among other crap you carry home with you from the big sandy but he is after all an Army Officer. He did not believe he could say no when so many others were still walking in harms way.
The Z who came home this time is different from the friend I knew when he came home last time - his writing is angrier, when he can even make himself write it down, he drinks for the drunk not for joy of a little fun with good friends, and he seems sad. He is not my dog ran away sad. He is fuck the world, I shot my dog on a street in Baghdad sad and I can't sleep and I don't really want to anyway sad.
He said to me recently that he doesn't understand why it bothers him so much this time. He saw much less death and every day was not a sphincter clenching I will die here today kind of day. It was actually pretty damn boring this time aside from the mortars and the odd Baghdad fight but it feels worse. (Poetic license here) Some guy bumped into me in the bar and I beat him until it dawned on me that he was unconscious on the ground and I couldn't tell if the blood was coming from my hands or the mess that was his face.
Good news - Z was rushed out by a friend and didn't go to jail.
He asked me about BBG and how she's doing and how she's dealing with her PTSD. I told him honestly that some days are good and some days suck but more are better now. I reminded him that shortly after she got out of the hospital and I finally let her drive that she forced a woman in a mini van off the road for driving too close to our vehicle. (sadly no poetic license here)
Good news - BBG had no weapon so she did not disable the woman or her vehicle.
I said to him the same things I have said to BBG and to my other friends with PTSD. You need help. You need to go to the VA and wait until someone sees you - even if takes fourteen hours, two days or a week. You need to get into a group with other OIF/OEF combat vets and talk about it. You need to get off the booze or that friend who saved you from jail will fade away and you will be alone. Most of all - talk with friends and know that you are just like tens of thousands of others. If you work through it, it may never go away but it will dull with time.
You have to be open to help and know that without it, you will lose yourself in the rage and the pain and in the middle of the night, if you have no one, you can call me.
He hasn't called and I haven't heard from him lately. (probably because I suck and got wrapped in my own whine for soooo long that I forgot about a friend.)
I hope to god its because he's out doing things that us married guys only dream about.
TIA
Earl
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Taking Chance - Again
I think it was a couple of weeks ago that I talked about Taking Chance a new film based on LTC Michael Strobel's account of his journey with the remains of PFC Chance Phelps to the young Marine's home in Wyoming for his burial.
I first read the story the day after the Operation Homecoming book launch as I flew home to Denver. I've never been more moved by this war - these wars - in my life. I've got to be honest though, I'm not sure if I was so moved by his families loss and The Colonel's witness or if it was my relief that all I got was the 0300 call when BBG was medevac'd out of Iraq. I often feel guilty for this and I feel inadequate when I express my condoloances to the families who have given all in service of our nation. I imagine their sorrow and loss and I ache for them.
I feel guilty because as I wonder on their anguish, I am even more thankful that BBG came home. We may have bad days but we have days.
TIA
Earl
I first read the story the day after the Operation Homecoming book launch as I flew home to Denver. I've never been more moved by this war - these wars - in my life. I've got to be honest though, I'm not sure if I was so moved by his families loss and The Colonel's witness or if it was my relief that all I got was the 0300 call when BBG was medevac'd out of Iraq. I often feel guilty for this and I feel inadequate when I express my condoloances to the families who have given all in service of our nation. I imagine their sorrow and loss and I ache for them.
I feel guilty because as I wonder on their anguish, I am even more thankful that BBG came home. We may have bad days but we have days.
TIA
Earl
Monday, March 2, 2009
Lizzie Palmer
Every once in awhile, I run across one of these videos and I can't help but throw it up here. The story behind this is that 15 y0 Lizzie Palmer created this in 2006 as a school project. Its an oldie but a goodie.
TIA
Earl
TIA
Earl
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