Learn to walk

Learn to talk

Grow more

Smile more

Cuddle more

Sleep less

Psalm 139: 7-10

Where can I go from your Spirit?  Where can I flee from your presence?  If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.  If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your right hand will hold me fast.

…. for love.

…. for giving.

…. for hope.

…. for dreams.

…. for faith.

…. for joy.

…. for Christ.

Don’t miss it!

I lived the first forty years of my life under the assumption that if something was printed in the newspaper, it was true.  I thought that journalists had to provide numerous valid sources to prove their information before they could have their article printed.  I thought fiction was something I could find in the library if I was looking for a good book to read.

That was back when I was viewing the world through my personal filter.  I will admit that I am naive.  I’m not nearly as naive as I was a few years ago, but I still tend to view the world through the lens of honesty and integrity.  I treat others the way I want to be treated and I assume that everyone out there cares about others and wants to be honest in any given situation. I like to think I have an accurate moral compass.

Reality set in a few years ago when I was battling the USMC with regard to health care for my son’s war injuries.  When I called for accountability and quality health care, I was shocked to see a massive coverup take place.  Even more shocking was the fact that it went very high up in the ranks, and that several congressional leaders looked the other way!  I could NOT believe that these people, in which I had put my trust, had the audacity to do whatever it took to protect themselves or whatever it took to follow the orders of someone higher up the chain who needed some butt-covering.

Sadly, I’m now wise enough to know that it isn’t just a few people in the USMC or the congressional leaders I tried to work with who lack a moral compass.  The problem is widespread.  It can be found in both political parties, in fact, it’s everywhere. I’m just about convinced that those who have a moral compass are few and far between and most of them never make it to Washington, DC.  If they do, they don’t last long. They either lose their compass or they get sent back home.  As a result, the truth as we know it is most likely fiction.  We are being inundated with propaganda.

Propaganda is a form of communication that is aimed at influencing the attitude of a community toward some cause or position.  Propaganda, in its most basic sense, presents information primarily to influence an audience.  Propaganda is sweeping across our country and we are buying into it.  There will be a high price to pay if we don’t demand the truth.

“History is a set of lies agreed upon.” ― Napoleon Bonaparte

Spending some time on social media over the past day or two, I see much disappointment coming from the conservative side of the fence, and under the circumstances, I think that is understandable.

As many already know, the normal stages of grief and loss begin with the stage of shock and denial.  I know I definitely felt the effects of that stage when I went to bed on Tuesday night.  I had really hoped my vote to send Barack Obama home was going to be on the winning side of things.

It wasn’t long before I moved into the phase of pain. That happened as soon as I woke up on Wednesday morning.  The election outcome has been very painful for me.

According to the standard grief model, I will soon get to the phase of anger, then depression, and at some point, should reach the point where I can work through this, find a way to accept it, and get back to some stage of hope, which is vital to life itself.  Without hope we have nothing.

What I don’t understand is the anger I am seeing from the liberal side of the fence over the past couple of days.  I have noticed that many liberals are spewing anger and venom every time they enter text into their computer.  It’s as if they don’t realize that their guy won!

I would think the winners would be celebrating with a joyous spirit, but what I see is the vicious “I told you so” response. I see people continuing to blame George W. Bush, even though he went home four years ago, and these statements are declared with an extra twist of anger, as if a knife is being plunged into my side, that seems accusatory towards me as if it was my personal influence and counsel that led President Bush through his years in office.

(And by the way, I can’t understand why Barack Hussein Obama can’t be held accountable for his four years in office.)

No matter who won, and no matter which side of the fence it is that you stand, we are all Americans.  This is OUR country!  It isn’t just mine. It isn’t just yours.  It doesn’t belong only to black or white. It doesn’t belong only to those who are gay or only to those who are straight. It certainly doesn’t belong only to Barack Obama.

It really doesn’t matter what Obama “accomplishes” while in office if his existence in the office of Presidency continues to tear this country apart.  The way it looks right now, we are headed for the end of the United States of America as we once knew it.  If we wake up one day to the death of our nation, it will be our own fault for allowing our emotions and our selfishness to destroy what should always be the greatest nation on earth.  It will be YOUR fault as much as it is MY fault.

Liberals, give those of us who have just experienced a traumatic loss the time we need to grieve.  We WILL get over it.  We have no choice.

Conservatives, stop waiting for the man in the Oval Office to fail. If and when he does, it means really bad things for all of us.  As much as I would like to say “I told you so” to Mr. Obama, I’m not sure I want to say it from my cardboard box under the bridge down the road.

Spewing venom and arrogance will get us to the end of the road a lot more quickly, and that end is not where we want to be.  Each of us needs to dust off our boots and keep moving forward, and whether we like it or not, we are going to have to find a way to work together which means compromise on BOTH sides of the fence.

United We Stand! Divided We Fall!

I never hop onto other people’s Facebook pages and make negative comments about their status updates. If I don’t agree with them, I simply roll my eyes, have a fleeting thought about their ignorance (IMHO) and IGNORE them.  It’s not all about me, therefore, I realize that pounding my opinion into the heads of others is going to accomplish nothing.

For some reason, however, some of my friends with a different value and belief system, seem to think I welcome their honest and negative opinions about what I have to say.  When I make a statement, positive or negative, I’m airing my opinion with the expectation that people will LIKE it and make comments in that vein.

While I realize that I don’t know everything, I doubt that your Facebook comment, laced with arrogance and anger, is going to do anything to shift my belief system and bring me over to your side of the fence.  Since Facebook has not implemented a DISLIKE button, it seems to me that negative comments are discouraged, and I would greatly appreciate it if you could simply ignore me and my page if you don’t like what I have to say.

There are several ways to ignore me on Facebook.  The most obvious way would be to just continue through the newsfeed and exercise some self control.  For those who can’t do that, you also have the option of seeing less of me in your newsfeed. Simply click on the “Friends” button and then click on “Settings”.  There you will find a variety of ways to limit what you see.  I have done this numerous times myself. There are several whom I no longer have to subject myself to when reading the newsfeed, and, if you are one who harasses me at every turn, very likely it is you.  Finally, there is one more option, which I will admit I have exercised – the “unfriend” option.

Facebook, for me, is a way to stay connected with my friends without having to put on my make-up or take the ten hour drive back to my hometown.  It provides an inexpensive way for me to wish a happy birthday to my closest 768 friends, and it gives me a place to post a bzillion pictures of my twin grandbabies and enjoy all the oohs and aahs from my buddies.

Quoting the man of the day, “Let me be clear!” My FB profile page is my front porch.  Just as I would not go across the street and knock on your door to tell you what I think of your campaign signs or your ugly choice in paint for your shutters, I do NOT want you to come knock on my front door to tell me what you think of my campaign signs and my paint choices for my house.

Please treat my Facebook timeline, aka my front porch, in the same way you want me to treat your front porch.  If you don’t want me to throw eggs at your house, then don’t throw them at mine.  As I said, it’s not all about me so I don’t expect you to view the world through my lens, however, I will remind you that it is not all about YOU either.  You can’t change me any more than I can change you.  Let’s agree to disagree.  If you post something I don’t like on my Facebook page, I will just delete your comment and exercise one of the options mentioned above.

In closing, I would like to say that for all of you who voted to reelect President Obama, I WILL hold you accountable for the way this all ends up.  Enjoy the gloating today for tomorrow you will get exactly what you think you want. I’m just sorry that your actions will ultimately drag me and my family down the toilet with you.

Image: Front Porch by Liz Holm
http://lizholm.blogspot.com/

As Americans we have the privilege of voting.  This is not the case for everyone on this planet.

As Americans we also have the responsibility to vote.  Many have fought and died so that you and I could live in this free nation.

You may think that you have only one vote, and that your vote won’t make a difference, but your vote counts just as much as the vote of the most wealthy and the most powerful.

When our forefathers birthed this nation, they carefully designed a plan that gives each one of us the opportunity to take responsibility for the future of our country.

When you cast your vote on Tuesday, will you vote for the man who is motivated by revenge or the man who is motivated by his love for our country?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&v=6ZHMsivjr04&NR=1

I have no idea what this season will bring, but I know it’s going to be filled with heart-racing excitement. When it comes to being a sports fan, there is simply nothing better than being a part of the Big Blue Nation.

We now have the opportunity to pass the legacy of Kentucky Basketball onto our grandchildren and it’s going to be a fun-filled and fantastic ride!

If the candidates would simply stick to what they are going to do, if elected, and leave the negative campaigning where it belongs (the garbage can for those of you who aren’t sure where I’m going with this), then maybe we would actually know what these people stand for and what they might do for us if we vote them into office.

One candidate, in particular, is causing me to come unglued.  No, I’m not referring to the POTUS right now.  I’ll get to him later.  I’m referring to the incumbent congressman in the sixth district of Kentucky, Ben Chandler.  Every single time I turn on the television, he is running a negative ad about his opponent, Andy Barr. Maybe I would ignore his ads like I do all the rest, but I know Andy Barr personally, therefore, it is impossible for me to disregard what is being broadcast in my living room.  I happen to know enough about Andy to know that he is definitely NOT the common criminal and monster that is being portrayed in Congressman Chandler’s ads.

If I had a bzillion dollars to spend on a campaign, I would not spend my money airing false accusations, lies, fabrications, and alterations of what is actually truth.  I would spend my campaign money telling my constituents what I will do for them, should I be elected to office.  It continues to amaze me each time I see one of Ben Chandler’s ads. He continues to stoop lower and lower, which only means one thing.  He is running scared and he is desperate to find a way to win this election. It scares me to think that many people may be sitting at home buying what he is selling!

Despite the negative tone set by Chandler, the ads being aired by Andy Barr are informative and professional.  He spends his campaign dollars to tell us what he will do for us, when elected.  He isn’t wasting campaign donations to tell us about the foolish and arrogant ways of his opponent.  I can’t imagine how hard it is for Andy and his wife to turn on the television and see the garbage being aired by Congressman Chandler, yet Andy refuses to stoop so low in retaliation.  His ads may not tell us everything Andy will do for us as our representative, but they tell me something far more important.  The man has integrity.  With so little of that in Washington right now, I believe we should be paying attention to the subtleties here.

For the past few years, I have been quite involved with several congressional leaders as I have advocated for our wounded warriors.  It’s personal to me because my son is one of them.  Sadly, I’ve never met Congressman Chandler even once, though I have worked with his office staff on a number of occasions.  I would just about bet my life that the man has absolutely NO IDEA that I even exist.  Because I wasn’t getting anywhere with Mr. Chandler, I eventually reached out to representatives in other states.  It was then that I realized the difference between a representative who goes through the motions (or has his staff go through the motions) and a representative who really listens and then steps into action.

Congressman Walter Jones of North Carolina demonstrated the actions of a representative who really cares and responds personally to situations, while Chandler defined the representative who lets his staff check the appropriate boxes and move on.  Walter Jones has personally worked countless hours on my son’s case. He has called me numerous times, taken me to lunch, and spent time with my family.  His staff knows me by name and I do not even reside in the state of North Carolina. I can honestly credit the man with saving my son’s life. (Caught your interest? Dig into my blog. The story is here.)

Now that I truly understand the difference between the representative who will put my child’s life as his priority and work for me, and the one who doesn’t even bother to learn of my existence, I desperately want to make sure that my vote counts.

I want to vote for someone who will actually give me the time of day when I need representation, which is why I will be casting my vote for Andy Barr.  He will take the time to get to know his constituents. He really listens and he really cares.  How do I know?  Because he has taken the time to get to know me and is very informed about the struggles faced by my son and other wounded warriors.  He spent time listening and learning about our experiences. He asked a lot of questions and he honestly wants to do whatever he can to make the system better for our nation’s veterans. He cared enough to include me in a group of advisors and consultants on the issues faced by our veterans and their families.  He realizes that, while I am a civilian, I am also a caregiver and family member to one who has worn the uniform.  He has enough sense to recognize that I can offer a well-needed and important perspective to wounded warrior care. Further more, he appreciates the freedoms he has as an American and he wants to ensure that those who made it possible for him, as well as their family members, are heard.

I’m no one special.  I’m just the mom of one of our nation’s disabled veterans, but Andy Barr cares about moms,  he cares about our children, and he cares about our veterans.   Recently he met my parents at an event, and when he realized the connection, he asked about my son by name!  I don’t have to be famous or rich to get his attention or be remembered.  I know that if I need him, he will personally take my call and he will personally ensure that the necessary action is taken. I feel confident that he will do the same for you!

I can’t say the same for Congressman Ben Chandler.  I have no indication that he cares one bit about me or my son, though he has had plenty of opportunities to prove it.

I have one vote and so do you.  If this race is as close as it was two years ago, YOUR ONE VOTE might make all the difference in the outcome.  You owe it to yourself and your family members to get to know the candidates and vote for the one who you can honestly count on. Please don’t use political ads as your guide of education. You never know when YOU might be the one who wakes up to a crisis and needs the help of your congressman.  Who do you want on your team?  I’m going to vote for the one who will make that 911 call with me.

My son and his wife recently had fraternal twins.  I’m a first time grandmother to two beautiful babies and I must say that their birth has redefined the lives of everyone in our family.  There is nothing more amazing than a new life, unless there are two new lives born at the same time.

At first glance, the twins don’t seem much like twins at all.  With one being a girl and one being a boy, there are some obvious differences, of course.  My grandson is blond and his sister is a brunette.  When they were born, there was a difference of a full pound in weight.  My granddaughter is bigger and that one pound of weight seems to make a such a difference.  We keep saying that it is like she is a week older.  I think “little brother” has to work harder to catch up, which requires a lot more sleeping.

The twins have completely different skin tones with sister being more fair.  They have completely different profiles, and from what we can tell so far, daughter looks just like Mommy and son looks just like Daddy.

Born early, and under a month old, there is still much to be learned about their little personalities, but from the beginning, sister has been more active.  All during the pregnancy, she moved frequently, while brother seemed content to be more still.  Now she seems to constantly be stretching and wiggling while her brother is more laid back.

Even with all of these differences, they are so similar in many ways.  They are in perfect sync with their schedule.  While Mom and Dad have worked to keep things this way so that they can get a few winks of sleep, it is quite incredible to watch the twins in action.  They eat at the same time, sleep at the same time, and on cue, they wake up and squeak and squawk at the same time.  They even fuss at the same time.  I can practically set my watch by either one of them.

When they get fussy, they definitely take comfort in being held, but they also take comfort in being close to one another.  Putting them together soothes them quickly.  Within a few moments they will move closer together and will position themselves together as a set of spoons.  Face to face, they quickly find a way to embrace and it is almost like looking at a mirror image.

There is nothing more beautiful than watching these little darlings interact.  The bonds of love that have developed between my grandchildren will, no doubt, be lifelong.

If you haven’t heard it, you need to listen to Paul Ryan’s speech given at the Republican National Convention recently.  He had a lot of good common sense things to say.  We don’t need to redefine the United States of America. We need to find our way back.

You didn’t build that
But I swear I’m gonna take it from you, oh yeah!  Yeah!
You didn’t build that
But now I’m really gonna take it from you!

Yeah!  All around in our home towns,
They’re trying to take us down;
They say they want to bring us in quickly,
For building up the economy,
For building the economy.

Oh, now, now.  Oh!
You didn’t build that
But I swear it was a just attempt.
Oh, no!  Oh, oh, oo-oh  Yeah!
I say:  You didn’t built that, Oh Lord!
And they say that we have lost our sense.
Yeah!  Oh, oh, oo-oh  Yeah!

Sheriff ‘BarackO has always hated us,
For what, We don’t know,
Every time we tried to build it up,
He said kill it before it goes -
He said stop them before they grow.

And so:
Read it in the news:
You didn’t build that.  Oh, Lord!
But I swear it was a just attempt.
Where is this sheriff from?
I say:  You didn’t build that,
But I swear it was a just attempt.  Oh – Oh  Yeah!

Freedom will come our way one day,
When the sheriff rides away from town, yeah!
All this time he’s spent tearing us down.
The Tea will come pouring down. – yes!
In the Tea, he will surely drown!
The guilty will pay!

You didn’t build that.
But I say, But I say it was a just attempt
I say we are the ones with sense,  oh, no-oh, oh no!
You didn’t build that,
But I know the sheriff makes no sense.  Oh! Oo-oo-ooh

His taxes got the better of me
And what is to be must be:
Every day the bucket goes in the well,
Filled it up and it looks like hell.
Left the water with a murky smell.

I say:
You-You-You, didn’t build that.
Lord, I swear it was a just attempt.  Yeah!
You didn’t build that -
But I swear we gave a just attempt.  No, yeah!

Recently a woman told me that she preferred I did not mention Jesus as it made her uncomfortable. She told me that she was a Christian but it was something that she considered to be private and personal. She did not think it was appropriate to make mention of Christ to others.

I was quite taken aback, and the song that I learned as child came flooding into my mind.

This little light of mine.
I’m going to let it shine.
This little light of mine.
I’m going to let it shine.
Let it shine. Let it shine. Let it shine.

Hide it under a bushel.
NO!  I’m going to let it shine.
Hide it under a bushel.
NO!  I’m going to let it shine.
Let it shine. Let it shine. Let it shine.

If you know Jesus, like I know Jesus, you don’t want to keep Him to yourself.

Don’t isolate yourself when you have something worth sharing. There is no such thing as a silent Christian.

No one lights a lamp and hides it in a clay jar or puts it under a bed. Instead, they put it on a stand, so that those who come in can see the light. Luke 8:16

During our childhood, our parents are teaching us many lessons about life. They cram as much as they can fit into the short span of 18 years that we live under their roof.  Much of what they teach us is intentional, but more of what they teach us is demonstrated through their actions.  The choices and decisions they make, the way they react to any given situation, and the behavior they model, teaches us far more than any of us ever realize at the time.

What amazes me is that much of this untapped wisdom is being stored in our brains for a later time, and we have no idea that we have access to this information for decades.

I first began to realize that my parents weren’t totally clueless when my first child was born.  As I have gone through the past 26 years of parenting, I have been through many situations in which I relied on the education I received from them to raise my three sons.  As the years have passed, I have come to realize that I was fortunate to have parents who have been willing to stick it out and be there for me every moment over these past 52 years.

I’m now at a point in my life where many changes are taking place.  My youngest child has just graduated from high school and will soon be entering his first semester of college.  My oldest child is about to become the father of twins which means that I am about to become a grandmother.  To be honest, it’s challenging to adjust to both of these life changes, and it’s pretty overwhelming to have them occur at the same time.

Why is the idea of becoming a grandparent so hard to comprehend?  On one hand I’m really excited. I can’t wait for the twins to be born. On the other hand, I have been struggling to pick my grandmother name for most of my daughter-in-law’s pregnancy.  I can’t wrap my mind around being called anything that depicts “old”.  I still feel like I’m in my twenties or thirties. I know this because each time I pass by a mirror I am shocked to see the wrinkled face that stares back at me.

I don’t know about you, but the concept of grandmother conjures up a picture in my mind of my grandmothers, who I remember as being very, very old and very, very wise.  I lost one grandmother when I was twelve years old.  She was in her seventies.  I have fond memories of sitting in her large lap, playing with her button collection, and the warm smells that came from the kitchen as she cooked all day long just to serve us a meal.  I loved Granny with all my heart, but the word “old” always comes to mind quickly when she is in my thoughts.

I lost my other grandmother just a few years ago. Because she lived longer, I had the blessing of getting to know her, not only as a child, but as an adult.  A strong woman of faith, she instilled much of her wisdom into my life before she passed away. While “old” doesn’t define the memory of Mamoy quite as much as my other grandmother, her portrait of strength and wisdom seem to put her in a place that I view as a great distance from where I am now.  I still view myself as the learner, certainly not the one who might be expected to dispense wisdom.

The main reason I had the blessing of knowing my grandparents is because my parents made sure to involve them in my life.  We didn’t live near them for much of my childhood so my parents had to make the effort to nurture those relationships.  They have continued to demonstrate the same lesson over the years with their own participation in the lives of all of their grandchildren.  They have four sets of grandchildren and each set lives in a different state. Over the years, they have spent much of their time traveling from state to state to be at birthday parties, ball games, recitals, and holiday celebrations. They work hard to nurture the relationships and do not let the miles separate them from their grandchildren.

As difficult as it might seem to accept becoming old enough to be a grandmother, it is far more difficult for me to accept the fact that my house is suddenly very, very quiet and my nest is just about empty.

My youngest child has always wanted to catch up to his brothers.  He has spent half of his life wanting to be grown up like them. He can’t wait to be on his own.   We have a close relationship, but he makes it very clear that he is going to be making his own decisions now.  It’s a bit of a challenge because he is technically still living under our roof. In his mind, he is already on his own, but physically, he is still here at home until school starts.

Since the time he entered high school, it has been obvious that with each passing year, he has decided that my husband and I are growing more and more old-fashioned, out of touch, and clueless.  I’ve spent the better part of those years explaining to him that he’s wrong.   In fact, I’ve even gone so far as to tell him that I totally understand his viewpoint because my parents were clueless when I was in high school.  I have done my best to make it clear that I am actually so much more in touch than my parents were and he should be grateful he has such a cool mom.

As you can see, at this point, I am still in denial as I am making the assumption that my parents were, in fact, clueless when I was in high school, and that I could not possibly be clueless myself. It’s hard to accept the fact that my son has likely assigned me a “clueless” ratio which is probably very similar to the one I assigned my parents back in the day.

Over the last year, it has been downright painful to watch my baby boy reach the conclusion that I am more of a nuisance than anything else.  With respect being something that has been redefined by his generation, his honesty about his feelings has been brutal at times.  I’ll admit that I had similar thoughts about my parents back in the day, but I would never have voiced these thoughts to them out loud.

I realize that all children grow into teenagers.  At some point, most teenagers know everything and most believe they are all invincible.  Most of us remember that we too, thought we knew everything, and most of us now know that nothing could be further from the truth.

The mistake we make is in thinking we can teach this lesson to our kids when they are 18, when in fact, they will not be ready for this wisdom for another 30 years.

My parents taught me years ago how to survive and thrive during this difficult season of my life, I just didn’t realize it at the time.  I now know that this lesson was stored away for a time such as this, so that I could recall what was taught and use it to move forward.

Somehow, my parents managed to survive those years when I thought I knew everything.  I may not have voiced all of my innermost thoughts, but I’m sure they knew what I was thinking. After all, they were once teenagers too. I know there were times when their hearts were broken as they watched me flounder and make mistakes. All the while I was so certain that I didn’t need their advice or their help, yet they were always there anyway, waiting for me to let them back into my life.

As I now sit on their side of the fence, watching my kids move on in life, I think back to those days and realize that it was I who was actually the one who was clueless.  I can now feel and understand the hurt that I brought on my parents when I reflect back to some of the things I said and did.  It’s a wonder that they survived and that they still let me in their home for a visit.

I know it was a long and painful process, but I also know that my parents will always be my biggest fans.  They are more proud of my accomplishments than anyone else on the planet.  They will always think I am beautiful.  They will always feel my hurts and disappointments, and they will likely feel the pain to a stronger degree than I do myself.  I know this because when my kids are hurting, the pain is indescribable.  I know this because I finally understand what my parents were trying to teach me for all those years.  They taught me the true definition of unconditional love.  They have always been right by my side, and that will never change. I will never be able to express my gratitude for their determination to love me no matter what.

As I continue to learn this lesson in letting go and releasing my children into the world,  I pray that I can pass the same knowledge to them that has been passed along to me. And I’m also hopeful that I will live long enough to see my own kids unlock this nugget of truth and view the world from the other side of the fence. I would prefer the inscription at my final resting place to include the word wise rather than the word clueless.

When you find yourself in a bad place and you feel like everyone is throwing bricks in your face, remember that there is something to be learned in every situation.  Each struggle we face and survive will make us stronger if we choose to learn the lesson and find the blessing.

David Brinkley said, “Lay a firm foundation with the bricks that others throw at you.”

I’m stacking the bricks and I’m going to move forward as a stronger person. Tomorrow promises to be a new day.

I remember a time in my life when I was personally unaffected by the tragedy of war and had basically been brainwashed by our society to think that Memorial Day was simply a holiday marking the beginning of summer, picnics, barbecues, and the promise of bargains to be found by serious shoppers.  That time, however, was long ago.

Now, after ten long years of war, Memorial Day’s meaning has changed for me.  I’ve watched my son go to war.  I’ve watched him mourn the loss of his battle buddies.  I’ve watched my friends bury their sons and husbands.

Now, as I walk alongside those who must continue on, despite the loss of the one who was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for all of us, I find it extremely difficult to understand how anyone could combine the word “happy” with Memorial Day, and yet I realize that those who have sacrificed for our freedoms would want us to enjoy this holiday weekend.  If asked, they would want us to honor their lives by enjoying American pastimes and spending time with family and friends.  After all, they fought and died so we could live.

As we head into this holiday weekend, let’s celebrate the freedoms and the blessings we have been given as Americans, but let us not forget who made living this American Dream a reality.  Don’t let this weekend pass without taking the time to honor those who stood in the gap and paid the ultimate price on our behalf.

This article was originally published by the author here.

“He who does not work, neither shall not eat,” he said.

Very soon the “gentlemen” became expert in the use of the axe, and the little village showed signs of an orderly community.

It is said that history repeats itself. Though this lesson is 400 years old, I think it is one that needs to be brought to the attention of our nation’s leaders and the American people who seem to think they don’t need to work.

Just because you are an American doesn’t mean this nation owes you anything.

On May 7, 2012, Tom Mahany, Vietnam Veteran and president of Honor for All, will be meeting with members of the President Obama’s staff to personally advocate for the formation of a Federal Advisory Committee on PTSD, TBI, and other mental health issues facing our returning veterans, to furnish advice, ideas, and diverse opinions to the Federal Government on the present crisis surrounding the issues stemming from the stigma of Invisible Wounds.

Mr. Mahany will be carrying with him to the White House, personal letters of endorsement from many prominent individuals and non-profit organizations.  He would also like to take with him on that day, a list of signatures to an open petition calling for the formation of this Federal Advisory Committee.

Join Mr. Mahany and other Americans in signing this petition.  As a nation, we have a crisis on our hands. Thousands of combat veterans are returning home to our communities. The best efforts of our established governmental agencies to deal with this situation have proven to be inadequate.  The private sector must be allowed to contribute to the solution.  This is a crisis that needs and deserves the undivided attention of the Commander in Chief, with the aid of the best minds in the country. This is a health issue, a labor issue, a housing issue, and a morality versus mortality issue. The longer we wait to resolve this crisis, the more it is going to cost in both money and lives.

Please take a couple of minutes to sign this petition.  It is the least we can do to say thank you to all those who have served on our behalf.  You can access the petition here:  http://www.thepetitionsite.com/159/714/669/federal-advisory-committee-on-ptsd-tbi-and-other-mental-health-issues-facing-our-returning-veterans/

Please take the additional step and share this petition with anyone you know who is an American citizen living in this free nation and benefitting from the sacrifices made by our US military personnel. Share this on Facebook, Twitter, and any other social networks in which you participate.

Click here to read Mr. Mahaney’s letter to President Obama and read the list of Americans who are endorsing this act of support.

Click here to find out more about Honor for All and the National PTSD Awareness Day event happening on June 27, 2012.

I watched your show for the first time today.  I watched it because I was told it was on the subject of  Combat PTSD. While I am glad to see that you are willing to bring the issue of combat post traumatic stress to light, I have some serious concerns about the way in which you have done it.

For starters, I have to ask you why you felt it appropriate to entitle your episode  “From Heroes to Monsters?”    Monsters???? Really, Dr. Phil?  I would think that you would be  aware of the fact that there is already a dark stain of stigma associated with post traumatic stress.  You claimed that you wanted to help bring attention to the problem and ensure that our veterans get the help and care they rightfully deserve, yet you call them monsters.  Exactly how is that helpful?

Now every misinformed civilian out there is going to use your show as one more frame of reference to validate their fear that veterans are crazed lunatics ready to go out on killing sprees at any moment.  It is my opinion that you have just slapped the stigma stamp right across the forehead of every veteran who returns from war and I don’t think that’s fair because our veterans are not monsters!

While rage, nightmares, and flashbacks are certainly symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress, they are not the only defining factors, and most veterans with PTSD are not violent.  I think it was wrong of you to show only one aspect of this problem.  You shared three stories on your show, and all three of them involved couples who were dealing with violence and rage. You even threw in the extremely dramatic story of the veteran who set his wife’s legs on fire.  Sensationalism always sells, but you are selling the wrong message.

Our veterans are NOT monsters!

I am painfully aware of the symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress.  My oldest son, a combat veteran of the United States Marine Corps, lives with PTS.  While I am the first to admit that he can certainly lose his temper, I can tell you that he is not violent and I have no reason to be afraid of him. My son is not a monster!

You have a Ph.D. in clinical psychology, so there is no reason I should have to list the symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress here for you, but because you failed to include what are probably more common symptoms, I feel compelled to list some of the other symptoms that you omitted.

Isolation and avoidance
Difficulty expressing feelings
Loss of interest in activities once enjoyed
Irritability
Difficulty concentrating
Difficulty sleeping
Hyper-vigilance
Depression

Any of these symptoms, especially when combined with others, can be life-changing and even debilitating in some serious cases, but they don’t produce a monster.

As a veteran’s advocate, I have met and worked with many veterans who live with post traumatic stress. Not one of them is a monster.

The past four years have been very difficult for our family.  We have gone through more than one crisis with our veteran.  Our lives have been forever changed and I count each of us as a casualty of war, but I can promise you that my son is no monster!  He is a hero!  Not only did he serve three combat tours, but he now faces the demons of life after combat daily.  Despite the broken VA system, the labels, the stigma, and the lack of understanding from the civilian world in which he must now live, he keeps moving forward, putting one foot in front of the other every single day.

Dr. Phil, in closing, it is my suggestion that you change the name of your show.  I think  ”From Heroes to Healing” would be a much better title  since these brave men and women are learning to live with combat injuries and trying to heal the hurt.  Just get rid of that “monster” word altogether.  Don’t sell your soul for a catchy title and good ratings.

I was going to strongly suggest that you make a public apology to all veterans for your insensitive title and your tunnel-visioned presentation of post traumatic stress.  After thinking about it further, I’m demanding that you apologize!  Your show did far more to further stigmatize our returning combat veterans and you did nothing to properly educate the American people.

You have a national platform.  You should use it to honor our veterans, not label them.

Earlier this morning, after reading the column by Nicholas Kristof, A Veteran’s Death: The Nation’s Shame, in the New York Times, and watching the associated video by Timothy Grucza, entitled Good Night Ryan, I was interested to see what people were saying.  I always find the comment section to be interesting because I can get a good sense of how people really feel about an issue.

After reading a callous comment on a twitter feed, I became unglued.  A Navy psychiatrist, a guy paid to take care of our combat Marines, responded to Mr. Kristof’s column with the following comment: “I think PTSD and mTBI are red herrings.  You almost never read about a case where there wasn’t drug/alcohol abuse.”

A red herring? Are you serious? After ten years of war and multiple combat deployments, do you really believe that Post Traumatic Stress and Traumatic Brain Injuries are just distracting us from the real reasons that so many of our combat veterans are taking their lives? From under which rock did you come?

The doc even added, “Plus, over past decade I’d argue that we’ve recruited less mentally healthy enlistees.”

Wow! Really?  Less mentally healthy enlistees?  Maybe some, but certainly not the ones I knew.  They were in Special Forces. Are you telling me that Marines who passed the rigorous physical and mental requirements to be a part of Marine Corps Special Operations Command (MARSOC) are less mentally healthy?

With my blood boiling, I couldn’t resist making a comment to the doctor.  “PTSD and TBI red herrings? Really? This response is evidence of why there is such a problem.”

His response: “Most suicides entirely unrelated to combat PTSD.”

I’m open minded. I can look at both sides of the coin. Perhaps he’s got something here.  I’ve always felt that the command climate had much to do with the suicide rate.  The lack of compassion from this doctor might go far to prove my point.

I imagine there are a lot of things that factor into military and veteran suicide.  I will even agree that drugs and alcohol probably play a big role, however, why drugs and alcohol are involved in the first place might be a question more worth answering.  Could it be that drugs and alcohol are the treatment of choice for our combat veterans because of the stigma associated in asking for help?

With comments such as the ones I’ve mentioned above, it’s no wonder that using drugs and alcohol to numb the pain would be the likely choice of a combat veteran with PTSD and TBI.  It would only take one office visit with that doc for me to realize I wasn’t going to get much unbiased help.

I’ll even ask the obvious.  What is the difference between numbing the pain with alcohol and numbing the pain with drug cocktails that are being prescribed by doctors working for the Department of Defense and the VA system?  Neither approach is doing anything to help our veterans fight the demons of war which are so large and unyielding.

If I’m a combat veteran, especially if I’m still on active duty, and I know I’m going to have to wait weeks or even months for an appointment, and I know that the appointment will lead to me being stigmatized and overmedicated, and I know that I might potentially be taken out of my unit to rot in a wounded warrior transition unit for years, prior to being thrown out on the street, I’m probably going to go buy the six pack.

Anyone working in the system has a responsibility to be open minded and willing to help find the real problem and work towards a real solution.  This check the box mentality, which labels our troops with personality disorders and other diagnoses that will keep veterans from receiving deserved benefits has got to stop.

To those of you employed by the Department of Defense or the VA who have a job that relates to the mental health of our troops, just remember their lives are in your hands.  One day it might be your son or daughter who needs the help.  Are you treating each patient as you would treat your own?  If you’re not, then I suggest you find a new job.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.  Don’t be part of the problem.  Be part of the solution!

I explained my frustration with the length of time it had been as we awaited the release of the report, and my wonder if that report would ever be released.  I told him of the struggle I went through to be heard, all the blockades I had faced and seemingly conquered, and the anger and fear that we had experienced as a family in standing up against the broken system in hopes that we could get some help for our wounded Marines who were not getting the treatment and care they deserved.

I simply couldn’t understand why the Inspector General’s team could spend three days at my home, hearing what I had to say with what I would describe as genuine concern, and then head to Camp Lejeune for a two week assessment period, only to allow nineteen months to pass before a report was released.  Many of the Marines were in what I would call “urgent” situations.  It was an immediate response for which I was looking.

My veteran friend looked at me with all seriousness and said, “They got you to shut up, didn’t they?”

You could have knocked me over with a feather.  I sat there, paralyzed, realizing that was exactly what had happened.  I spent just over a year of my life, dedicated full time to working to fight for my son’s rights, as well as his life, and the lives of the other Marines living the nightmare. When the IG team walked out the door that day, they thanked me for my tenacity, courage, and determination to make a difference. I figured I had come to the end of my leg in the race. I handed the baton to the next runner and stopped talking.

I, once again, made the mistake of trusting the system.  I shut my mouth and began what was supposed to be a probable five month wait for the release of the report.  Being hopeful and naive, I started looking for the report’s release within a couple of months.  I checked every single day…..for what turned out to be nineteen long months.

I remained quiet, knowing that when the report of truth came out, I would finally be able to freely speak out and claim the truth without fear.  Having lived with the terror of repercussions that might befall my son for almost two years, I was confident that I would finally see something done to fix the broken system before too many other lives were destroyed.

But now, with the release of the report nineteen months later, I have to ask if anyone really cares?  Many of the Marines who were there at the time are no longer assigned to the battalion.  The battalion command and staff has changed.  Many were moved out prior to the IG visit.  I have learned that this is one typical way to avoid accountability.  Just claim the problem has been solved….blame it on the guy that just got transferred.

There has been little attention to the report in the media.  It’s just not that interesting because everyone is buying the excuse that it was all in the past.  I’ve read the report very carefully. I see the same lame excuses given now that were given back then.  People seem to be jumping on the bandwagon to point fingers of blame at everyone else, focusing on blaming nonprofits and drug dealers just to name a few.  I might mention that the Marine Corps is thrilled with this response.

I can read between the lines, because I know what lies there.  I only wish others could do the same.

As much as I want to spend countless hours pointing out the truth, I have to wonder if it’s worth my time and if anyone really cares.

I’m really disappointed that there isn’t more concern for the care of our wounded warriors.  Unless you are directly affected, I guess you don’t think you have a reason to care.  That is exactly what our government wants you to do.  Go ahead. Keep your head in the sand. Ignore the problem. Better yet, why not buy into the idea that they are just a bunch of people with personality disorders, drug addictions, and homicidal ideations. Just keep your distance and mind your own business.  You are tired of the war. You may not have ever agreed we should have been involved.  You just want to keep living your American Dream.  Besides, it’s too painful to think about the fact that someone you don’t even know was willing to stand up and fight for you while you stayed at home and went to the mall.

We have thousands of troops who have been to war over the past ten years.  A high percentage of them have undiagnosed PTSD and TBI.  The system stigmatizes those who ask for help. Don’t let them tell you they don’t because it’s a lie.  Most who ask for help are drugged with multiple prescriptions, demoralized, and kicked to the curb.

You may not think it’s your problem, but I’m here to tell you that it IS your problem.  These combat veterans are returning to our communities. They are misunderstood, stigmatized, ignored, and many have been denied by their own.  Many will become estranged from their families, find themselves homeless, or commit suicide.  Others will struggle to make it, but they will do so in isolation.

Family and friends will be dramatically affected and we won’t be able to count the number of people who will become casualties of this war. I know this because I am one of them.

We owe it to our wounded warriors and veterans to get involved by demanding they get better health care. We owe it to them to speak up when we see injustice.  We owe it to them to fight the system, no matter how impossible the battle seems to be.

I now know “they” think they pulled another fast one on me.  They shut me up for nineteen months, but I didn’t fight long and hard to just walk away now.  If you aren’t treating our troops and veterans in the way in which deserve to be treated, I’m going to call you out every single time it comes to my attention.  Realizing it takes only a few apples to spoil the whole bunch, if you are one of the spoilers, I don’t care how many stars and stripes you wear, or once wore, on your uniform.  Your job and your life are not more important than that of any other person wearing the uniform, especially if you aren’t doing right by our troops and veterans.

Sometimes supporting our troops means standing up and saying the words that everyone else is afraid to utter.  I’m putting on my Kevlar and I’m going back out into the fight.

That’s 29 months of waiting for someone to do something about a huge problem that is affecting thousands of our troops returning from combat. I won’t even mention the months of living with the problems, the crises, dealing with the Marine Corps, and dealing with the Congressional inquiries that took place prior to reaching out to the DoD IG.

It’s no wonder we have so many of our combat veterans giving up and finding themselves using drugs, homeless, suicidal, and in families that are falling apart.  It takes someone of great strength to go to war, but it takes someone of greater strength to return home and live within the broken system this nation offers our combat veterans.

The DoD IG report is a total of 126 pages if you include reading the attached documentation.  I spent a good part of yesterday reading the report and reading the articles that are beginning to show up in response to the report’s release.

I have mixed emotions about this report.  While I’m glad to see that there are some honest and scathing remarks, I’m disappointed to see that the command seems to be getting away with some lame excuses.  I’m not sure if everyone is aware of that since most who will read the report have no insight into what was really going on back when all of this took place.

For the most part, I’ve kept myself very quiet over the past three and a half years.  At first it was my naivete.  I spent most of my life trusting those in our government.  I was 100% behind the Marine Corps and bought everything they had to sell – hook, line, and sinker.  I still believe in the USMC, but I’ve come to realize that it is made up of the same imperfect people who inhabit planet earth.

Once my bubble was burst and I was able to see the reality of the situation, I became frightened realizing that I had to speak up.  At first, I thought it was just one bad Captain.  I gathered my evidence and made certain of what was really going on. I’ll admit that because I thought the Corps was made to perfection, I did not really believe what was right in front of me.  It took me awhile to convince myself there was really a problem.  As the evidence built its case, I began to realize that something had to be done and I was, unfortunately, the one who was going to have to step up and do it.

When I finally found the courage to speak up about this bad situation which our family found itself in, I had no idea that I was opening Pandora’s box and that there would be no end to the nightmare and the suffering.

I started at the bottom – at the source – and began to slowly work myself up the chain of command.  Eventually, I had to go outside to my congressional representatives, and when they seemed to buy the dog and pony show being sold to them by the involved USMC officials, I went to congressional representatives outside my geographical boundaries.

I remember the day I pushed the “send” button on my fax machine, sending a letter to each and every member of the Armed Services committees in the House and the Senate.  I was shaking and frightened.  Being my first time to contact Congress, I just assumed that I had reached the end, the top, and that something would finally, and quickly, be done. After six months of crisis, I was finally going to get this behind us.

That was almost three years ago, and since that time I’ve been living in fear each and every day.  It didn’t take me long to realize that nothing was getting done.  Our family continued to live in crisis and I could see that my son’s life hung in the balance.  With the poor care, and the abusive environment of WWBN-E, I knew that I had to break all the rules and keep moving forward.

Moms do NOT call the Marine Corps. Ever! This includes when your son is an injured Marine, especially if he still has all his limbs and “looks” normal.  The signature and invisible wounds of war, Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) and Post Traumatic Stress (PTS or PTSD) are stigmatized and ignored.  Just because it is talked about doesn’t mean it is now accepted in all military circles.

My son didn’t want me to get involved, but I made an executive decision and jumped in.  He was single and had no one to advocate for him.  I knew it was my job.  I’m glad I stepped in, but my son definitely payed the price.

The more I contacted congressional leaders to look into the situation, the more things heated up at WWBN-E.  Things went from bad to worse, but I was determined to save my son so I continued to move forward.  I also began to speak up through an anonymous blog.  I was afraid to draw attention to my son, so I wrote anonymously, as well as under a pen name.  I read every news article that had anything to do with wounded warrior care and then I wrote a blog of response based on what our family was experiencing.  Often I would write in generalities and allow my writings to appear as if I was referring to another branch of military service because I was so frightened of the ramifications of my speaking out. I soon came to see that my writing was having an effect.  I was contacted by numerous media outlets, and I shared some of our story, but I wasn’t willing to put myself or my son out there, to be annihilated by the Corps.

It’s taken a very long time for me to allow myself to be identified, and I’m still not comfortable with it.  Besides the fact that I was initially concerned about my son’s safety, I was also concerned about the strain all of this was putting on my relationship with him.  He was caught in the middle. He wanted to get out and get help, but he was a Marine and he could see the writing on the wall if he spoke up or allowed me to do so.  Though I have opened up and shared what might appear to be a lot of our story, the truth is that I’ve only shared a small part.  I wanted to give the system a chance to do it’s job so I have waited patiently for the DoD IG report to be released.

So now the report is out, and I guess I’m going to come out of hiding.  I’ve moved most of my old blogs from the anonymous site to my personal blog site bearing my name.  I can’t really offer any validity to my story, if I don’t let anyone know who I am and how I have come to be familiar with this situation. Because so much has happened, and because there is so much information which bears a response, I’m going to respond to this report over time, in a series of blog posts. There is simply no way to make this short and sweet.

It is my hope that there have been a lot of positive changes over the past three years, but from my first reading of the report, I see the same pattern of denial, lame excuses, and the allowance to point fingers of blame at someone outside the battalion. If only people were more concerned about the big picture than they were about their own job security.  There are a lot of good people who want to speak up, but they know it’s likely career-ending so they just look away and move on.

I am thankful my son survived and got out of there, and I can almost rest knowing I did the best I could to support those who have served this nation and protected my freedoms.  As much as I’d like to just move forward with my life and put all of this in the past, I know I can’t sit back as long as there are wounded warriors returning home who need quality care.  Every combat veteran needs an advocate.  I’m going to do what I can to help other family members learn what they need to do to support their warrior.  They aren’t going to get that information from the Department of Defense, that I can guarantee!

To read other related blog posts written during our family’s experience, click the links below.

Lessons We Could Have Learned from Vietnam

Are we entitled to our own opinion?

Thank You Sgt Bagosy. Your Sacrifice Will Not Go Unnoticed

Military Suicide….by the numbers

How open is the invitation to the WTU?

Is propaganda creating POW’s?

What time is the barbecue, Vice President Biden?

The Broken Heart of a Wounded Warrior’s Mother

May I have a moment, Admiral Mullen?

Separating Honor and Pain

You have a fax, Senator Levin!

Father’s Day ~ The New Normal

Military Suicides by the heartbeats, not the numbers

Stop the Stigma! Be the solution, not the problem!

The Army’s Clandestine Report on Suicide

Pat Tillman Speaks Out

Silence Among the Generals

I Beg to Differ

Set the Record Straight

God is bigger than the Marine Corps

It’s finally time to tell the truth

Do your homework, Fox News!

Could procrastination be the smoking gun?

Stigma of TBI replaced with Honor of Purple Heart

Purple Hearts, TBIs and No Brainers

Despite combat, I still know my child best

Military Deaths and Questions We Should All Be Asking

Literally dying to get some sleep: The accidental death of a US Marine

Supporting our troops can sometimes mean taking a stand

Truth or Fiction: What will the Wounded Warrior Battalion Study Reveal?

The CATS were all restless, legs drooped from their beds,
While visions of banners danced round in their heads.
And Cal and his coaches, in the film room did meet,
Now sleep would not find them, none for this week!

The past, oh the banners, were hung high in Rupp,
All seven were waving with the BIG BLUE wind up.
The people were cheering at a wild fever pitch
For EIGHT they were waiting and starting to itch!

When all through the Bluegrass arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my couch to see what was the matter.
The people had gathered, A Nation Of Blue,
They’d started their trek to the place called Bayou!

The moon on the breast of the BLUE-fallen snow,
Made it clear to on-lookers it’d be quite a show.
When what to my wandering eyes should I see,
But CATS swatting balls as easy as flees!

A team with no leader, all lively and quick
Each had the back, of his brother to stick.
They held up their arms as the teams came and went
Gone home were the Hoosiers and Baylor, both spent!

Now marching to meet at the great Super Dome,
The Cards and their feathers, and Rick on his throne.
But oh what a greeting the Cats have in store
Just see what the SWAT team will do to the score!

With Cal as the driver, all lively and quick,
And a team with a swag, all lottery picks!
More rapid than horses, his courses they came,
And he screamed and he shouted and he called them by name:

“Now Gilchrist!  Now Wiltjer!
Now Miller and Vargas!
On Teague! On Lamb!
On Davis and Jones!
To the top of the Tourney!
To the top of Rupp’s wall!
Now swat away, swat away!
Swat away all!”

As teams that before the great tournament fall,
When they meet with an obstacle, the great Big Blue Ball,
So up to the top of the nations’ elite,
Our great one – and – done’s take the CHAMPIONS seat!

On Monday the rightful return of the crown
And the great Big Blue Nation will sing with resound,
“The CATS are the SWAT TEAM cutting the nets,
We’ll be back next year, you can go place your bets!”

There is simply no better place to be than Lexington, Kentucky, when March rolls around. March Madness in the Bluegrass is nothing short of insanity and I wouldn’t trade living here for anything!  One of the first things I learned when I married my True Blue husband almost 22 years ago was that life as we knew it would stop when the Kentucky Wildcats played basketball.

I’ve always loved basketball, but I’ve never lived in a town where there was such a legacy of success.  It didn’t take me long to buy into the Big Blue mania because like it or not, if I was going to be spending time with my husband between November and March, I was going to be watching the games.  I also realized that if I wanted to make new friends, and be a part of any conversations taking place around town, I better know who was on the team and be prepared to recite each players stats upon demand.

As the years have passed, I’ve slowly slipped into the madness, which starts much earlier than March, by the way. It happened to me so gradually that I almost didn’t notice it. In the early years, it was just about watching the UK games and doing a lot of screaming at the TV while jumping up and down. Next I found myself importing the entire game schedule into my calendar and setting alarms and notifications so that I would never miss a game.  My planning now includes checking a few days ahead of time to be sure I know which network is televising the game. I’ve got the local radio station set as well so I can listen to the game being called by announcers smart enough to know who’s really number one!

I have to plead guilty to joining my husband and dragging our three young boys to Rupp Arena to welcome home the NCAA championship team in 1996.  As we climbed up to the top of the nosebleed seats, we passed crazy people yelling and screaming and covered in Blue!  Unable to control ourselves, we too, proudly proclaimed our love and admiration for the CATS, all the while, our two year old was beyond frightened at the insanity to which he was being subjected.

I will proudly admit to getting in a car covered in True Blue paint, that I put there myself, and driving all the way to Syracuse with teenage boys who were covered in blue body paint and doing the Wall Dance. Yes, I did the Wall Dance and, yes, I downloaded “Do the John Wall” to my iPod which my son proudly blared, windows down, throughout the trip to Syracuse. Our car was shaking and everyone on the road was honking and waving all the way up to the tournament. Never have I had so much fun driving on a turnpike. I’m anticipating some fun on I-75 today because I just got finished painting a great big brow across the back of my SUV.

Yes! I admit it.  I bought a pair of tickets for the 2012 NCAA South Regionals in Atlanta this weekend.  Then I found better seats, priced just right so I wouldn’t have to mortgage my house just to pay for them so I bought those tickets too. I wasn’t worried about selling the first pair of tickets because I’m not alone in belonging to this madness called the Big Blue Nation.  It only took a couple of hours to hand them off to another member of the BBN who is already on the road to Catlanta.

I know I’m considered to be ancient and boring by my youngest teenage son, but I don’t really see it that way. I might have a few wrinkles, but that doesn’t keep me from following Coach Cal and the UK players on Facebook and Twitter. I think it’s the coolest thing to open my twitter app and see that Brad Calipari tweeted, “About to head out to Louisville. @uknum1 sittin in front of me…..”, followed by Darius Miller tweeting “About to take a nap”.  And don’t think for a minute that I missed my opportunity yesterday to tweet him a Happy Birthday message.

I’m really not the groupie type.  Most of the time I’m just minding my own business, but something comes over me when the Big Blue Nation hits the court and this Virginia girl who now Bleeds Blue catches the fever and the madness and I love every minute of being a Kentucky Wildcat fan.

My husband is a second generation University of Kentucky School of Architecture graduate, following in his father’s footsteps. Our youngest son graduates from high school in May, and he plans to attend UK as well.

After marrying one the world’s biggest Kentucky fans, and being transplanted here almost 22 years ago, I realized quickly that I had to arrange my life around the UK basketball schedule. After all these years, I am such a fan that I would most likely cheer against my own alma mater if they had the chance to play UK in basketball. It wouldn’t be so much that I was cheering against my school’s team.  It’s just that my college in Virginia, James Madison University, does not get much press here in the Bluegrass, which makes it difficult to follow the sports program.  I don’t really know too much about who has played on JMU’s teams over the years, but I can tell you just about anything you want to know about the members of the UK basketball team and I have discovered that I now bleed blue with the best of them!

One of our sons attends Western Kentucky University and is currently pursuing a double major in Physics and Mathematics.  When we faced WKU in the first round of the NCAA tournament last week, we wondered, for a split second, if there would be a conflict of interest for our Hilltopper.

Fully aware that he is an avid follower of UK sports and listens to every game with his iPhone app, we still wondered if he might possibly get caught up in the March Madness fever surrounding him at WKU last week.

When I got on Facebook just before the UK/WKU game, I knew that my boy was going to bleed blue no matter where he went to school. His status update simply said,

“Time to solve some differential equations and listen to my Cats dominate. Sorry Western. I love your campus, your staff, and the educational opportunities you give me, but you will never be my sports team. UK Basketball FTW!

Needless to say, he has made his father very proud!

Train up a child in the way he should go…..and when he is old he will Bleed Blue!

“Do you like blue days in June?”

“I do not like them Hoop-Fan-Blue
I do not like blue days in June.”

“And what of May?
Would you like blue days in May?”

“I would not like blue days in May,
Blue fans do not play that way!”
“Blue fans like blue days in March.
The CATS are in and livin’ large!”

“Now I know the month is March.
And thus, know too that CATS are large.
But do they like a BLOCK PAR-TY?
Would they show us, can we see?”

“Oh, they like a BLOCK PAR-TY!
Yes sir, yes sir, yes sir-eeee!
The Brow will throw a BLOCK PAR-TY!
See him swat and watch them flee!”

“Can he swat the duke-man’s three?
Can he swat it, can I see?”

“He can swat the duke-man’s three,
And Carolina’s two for me.
He can swat them from a car,
He can swat them from afar!”

“Is he player of the year,
This Brow you speak of with such cheer?
Is he worthy of the crown?
Or should the Brow begin to frown?”

“The Brow should never stoop to frown,
For he can fly above the ground!
They will choose him number one,
His blue days are one-and-done!”

“Sad these guys are one-and-done,
I hope that March, for them, is fun!”

“March shall have no tears or sadness
Big Blue Nation loves the Madness!
Swatting balls right down the river,
One-and-done they will deliver!”

So Knight if you will, and Knight if you won’t,
I think Big Blue Nation is nearing the coast!
Now Bobby you will, I do think you must,
Give heed to the CATS and their big bayou toast!!

Deny thee, our Brow, defender and star,
Can swat any ball from here or afar,
And Jones-ey, the elder came back with a claw,
To make sure that this team never would fall.

And what of Kidd-Gilchrist, do you say at all?
So quick and determined to move with the ball…
Why, if you threw a chair like you have in the past,
Would slide right on by, he’d laugh at your cast!

So Knight if you will, and Knight if you won’t,
I think Big Blue Nation is nearing the coast!
Now Bobby you will, I do think you must
Acknowledge our CATS and their big bayou roast!!

Speak not of our master at point, Mr. Teague,
Your words are not welcome, he’s out of your league.
Just like his mate, Mr. Lamb has no need
Of your wishing his shots would not count as THREE!

You’re huffing and puffing about other teams,
Yet have you considered the rest of our means?
Miller, some say, he can shoot from downtown,
and Wiltjer makes his guys often to frown.

So Knight if you will, and Knight if you won’t,
I think Big Blue Nation is nearing the coast!
Now Bobby you will, I do think you must,
Acknowledge our CATS and their Great Big Blue roast!!

Some say you’re a hater of anything BLUE,
So Bobby I must know, is this really true?
Cal has your number and he has Digger’s too,
But he won’t be a callin’ after it’s through.

See, in Big Blue Nation, our motto and creed
Derive from a few things left out of your deed:
We don’t beat our chests or scream in your face,
Winning is humble; winning is grace.

So Knight if you will, and Knight if you won’t,
I think Big Blue Nation is on NOLA’s coast!
Now Bobby you will, I do think you must
Acknowledge our CATS and their Great Big Blue roast!!

As much as I love Pinterest, I have found a glitch in their system that really needs to be addressed as soon as possible.

Have you heard about Collaborative Boards on Pinterest?  Collaborative Boards are pinboards which have more than one contributor.  Any Pinterest user can add someone to one of these boards as a contributor.  All you have to do is follow one board belonging to another Pinterest user and you can add them as a contributor.  You don’t have to ask their permission. You simply add them to the Collaborative Board.

Once a user is added as a contributor, the Collaborative Board shows up on that user’s Pinterest page along with all the other boards associated with the account.

Pinterest claims that you have the option to remove yourself from these collaborative pinboards, however, right now that is not the case.  This is a glitch in the system that must be addressed immediately!

Military Missions Inc, the nonprofit I founded a few years ago, is using Pinterest. We love it because we use photos all the time to share our mission and it has given us a new population of people to reach with information about our organization.

Recently, Military Missions was added to a Collaborative Board, however, and it is now causing us problems.

When I received notification that we were added to the Collaborative Board, I wasn’t really sure what this notification meant since this was actually my first introduction to the fact that these Collaborative Boards existed.  At first glance it seemed harmless and in fact, seemed like it might be a positive. As a part of this collaboration, we were grouped with other nonprofits supporting military and veteran families, as well as military organizations. Military Missions has collaborated with many organizations over the years in a variety of ways, and we are amongst some of the first to agree that we all need to work together to accomplish the tasks at hand.

Unfortunately, it quickly became apparent that there was a downside to this collaboration.  Any photo that is added to a Collaborative Board will automatically show up on that board, and that board is going to also automatically show up on every contributor’s page.  Now, whether I want it there or not, photos posted to the Collaborative Board of which we have been included as a contributor will be posted on our page which is representing our organization and we have no control over it.

How did I learn this?  The hard way, of course! It wasn’t long before a photo was posted that was not what we consider appropriate for our audience.  It took me less than a second to come to the realization that I didn’t know any of these contributors to which I have been tethered.  I’m sure they are all nice people with great organizational purposes, but it is very likely that we all have different moral compasses and we all have different guidelines which we must follow.  It’s hard enough to keep everyone personally involved with our organization on the same page, so this cyberspace collaboration is definitely something we need to view with a careful eye.

I immediately tried to delete the Collaborative Board off of our organization’s Pinterest page.  Not an option.  Next I tried to remove our organization from the list of contributors. Again, not an option.  Even though I researched how to do it, and followed the easy-to-use instructions, here’s the glitch! It’s not working!

Next I tried to contact the person who set up the board.  Hmmmm….did you know you can not send a message to others in the Pinterest community via Pinterest?   I’m creative enough, so I quickly went to Facebook, did a search for the creator, found them, and sent them a message asking to be removed.

I received a message back quickly, but it was to inform me that she had tried to remove us from the Collaborative Board and, even she, the creator, was not able to do it.  She apologized and has removed the questionable photo in the meantime which we appreciate.

I’ve written to Pinterest at the address they list as a contact for help.  I hope they are more timely in responding than Facebook has been in the past.  I found out last year that it takes an act of God to hear back from anyone residing in the official Facebook castle on a hill. I’m still waiting for a response from Facebook for a problem I had with them in November 2010.

I suggest that the creators of Pinterest come up with a solution to this problem immediately. Realizing one shouldn’t criticize without offering to roll up their sleeves and help, I suggest that the first thing they do is simply fix their “REMOVE” feature that isn’t working for their Collaborative Boards.  Maybe all it takes is smart techie going behind the scenes to change a code.

Secondly, I suggest that Pinterest require pre-approval for additions to Collaborative Boards.  I don’t think anyone should be added to a Collaborative Board unless they have the opportunity to check out the situation and accept the invitation.  Our organization was included in a Collaborative Board before I even understood what it was or how it was used. I didn’t even know these boards existed until I found myself in this pickle.

I would also suggest that Pinterest come up with a way to allow users to communicate with one another.  I shouldn’t have to resort to my detective skills and go to another social media website to communicate with a Pinterest user who is able to hijack the integrity of my nonprofit by posting photos on my pinboards.

I have asked the creator of the Collaborative Board to delete it and start from scratch, keeping our organization out of the mix.  It may be the easiest way to remedy the situation.  I sure hope she will oblige.

Collaboration can be a good thing, but I think we will pass on this option in the Pinterest world.  It is too easy to have your pinboards hijacked.  We’ve worked too hard to create our brand and our image to have a poorly selected photo chosen by someone else go viral and bring the walls down around us, so thanks, but no thanks! We don’t want to be included in your Collaborative Board.

If you look at a situation carefully, you might realize that person is teaching you something about living. If not, you can simply be grateful that you are not walking through life in their shoes and that it is not their face you see when you look in the mirror. Choosing gratitude will put a smile on your face so look for the positive. It’s always there somewhere.

Just think about it for a second.  You can’t expect someone to forgive you if you are full of anger.  Would you feel like forgiving someone who was screaming at you with some sort of sarcastic or hostile apology that was full of excuses?

To truly be sorry and willing to put the past behind you, humility must be in your heart.  Maybe the hardest part of this forgiveness thing is admitting wrong and forgiving yourself. Just do it.  There’s nothing better than getting that burden of anger off your back and receiving grace and forgiveness from those whom you have wronged.

Did I mention that God’s grace is a free gift and there for the taking right now?  Just open your heart and your hands and accept the blessing from above.

James 4:6 God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.

After surviving several huge challenges which resulted in what I like to call “parting of the Red Sea moments” in my life, I’m here to tell you that you are right.  You can’t do it, but God can, and God will, do it through you.

One word of caution.  You have to totally release your problem to God. You can’t give it to Him and then take it back.  Taking it back and worrying about it just tells God you don’t trust Him and He wants you to let go and let Him do the work.

If you step with faith into the sea, God will part the waters and give you dry land upon which to walk.

Put your situation in God’s hands and trust that He will give you what you need to survive.

Wait on His timing.

Embrace His solution.

He always knows best.

Philippians 4:13 I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Did you know that the person who is most likely to prevent someone from taking their own life is someone that they already know?  It’s not the psychologist, the psychiatrist, or the EMT.  It’s you! It’s me!  We must always be listening because listening can be lifesaving.

Every 36 hours someone in the military takes their own life.

Every 80 minutes a veteran chooses suicide as a solution to their problems.

Even though only one percent of Americans serve in the Armed Forces, suicide accounts for more than 25 percent of deaths among veterans under the age of 25.  6,500 veterans commit suicide each year.

Only 25 percent of suicide victims leave a note so many deaths categorized as accidental are more than likely suicides.

Most people who take their own lives will communicate their intentions to do so in the week prior to their action.

Cries for help may be coded in expressions like “I’m so tired of it all.”

Behavioral clues such as a gun purchase, stockpiling pills, changing a will, or giving away money should tip you off that something isn’t right.

Situational clues should not be ignored. A sudden breakup, the death of a loved one, losing a battle-buddy, or a financial crisis can trigger someone to consider suicide.

A long term battle with an illness, depression, or post traumatic stress can wear a person down until they just don’t want to keep up the fight.

If someone you know seems out of sorts, don’t be afraid to ask them that scary question. Take a direct approach, or an indirect approach, but ask them if they are thinking about suicide. Don’t fall for the myth that confronting someone about suicide will increase the risk.  After all, it’s better to have an angry friend than a dead friend.

If you find that suicidal ideations are confirmed, persuade them to get help and then go with them to get that help.

Suicide prevention is everybody’s business.  It’s not who you lose.  It’s who you save.

Need help now? Call the Veteran’s Crisis Hotline: 1-800-273-TALK (8255). Press 1.

This article was first published by the author at voiceofwarriors.com.

Every time I post my own opinion on my own Facebook page you show your ugly face. Here’s a newsflash! I’m not looking for an argument. I’m just exercising my freedom of speech while fully expecting, and inviting, my like-minded friends to “Like” my comment or add their two cents in agreement.

But here you come, out from your little corner, where you have been lurking and awaiting the opportunity to say just the right thing to push my last button.  You are certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you are right and I am wrong.  You are certain that I am asking for your opinion. You share your infinite wisdom with your condescending tone and sometimes, you tack on those little “I love you’s” to the end of your comment as if that makes it okay for you to slap me publicly in the face.

There is something you need to know, Cyber Bully!  If I decide to speak my mind in my own home, or in this case, on my own Facebook page, and I have not invited you to the party, there is really no need for you to come in unannounced and uninvited and share your thoughts about what I have just said.

If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it. You will know because I will post my comments on your Facebook wall and wait for your response.

Until that time, all you need to know is that I do not care what you think, and I am not as dumb as I might look to you.  Fortunately, Facebook has come up with a few strategies to help me avoid the conflict you obviously desire to create.  I have the power to delete your comment, which I will do.  I have the power to unsubscribe from your newsfeed, which I likely have already done, and I have the power to block you from ever seeing me in Facebook land if nothing else seems to work.

Go pick on someone else. I’m not playing your game, you big bully!

As much as I can’t wait to read the report when it comes out, I have a feeling it’s going to be filled with a lot of garbage. It’s already seeping out in the article. If there is one thing I’ve learned in the past couple of years…..cover ups don’t just happen in the movies!

After giving up hope that any report would ever be released, I’m actually shocked to hear that it might actually exist and I might actually get to read it someday soon.  Of course, at this point, it’s easy to see how the Marine Corps will get away with the most likely excuse – time.  Two months ago, when battalion advisors were presented with a draft of the assessment, Craig Stephens, battalion advisor said, “Our only issue was at the time it was about 14 months after they had visited us, and a lot of the issues they presented had corrected themselves.”

Corrected themselves? More likely there has just been plenty of time to cover up the mess. The sad reality is that I had to take matters into my own hands to get to a solution our family could handle.  If I had waited for the DOD IG to ride in on their white horses to save the day, I have to wonder if my son would still be breathing!

I find it hard to believe that the system has received the claimed overhaul and is now viewed as “exemplary”, as stated in the article.  I can only hope that is the case.  After all, I gave up almost two years of my life to fight that broken system.  Reality, and a little birdie, tell me otherwise, but I will be optimistic and hope that things have gotten a little bit better for those who must call WWBN-East home.

The report may not tell the whole truth, but I don’t regret the effort, the anguish, the fear, and the frustration.  If I had a chance to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing…except that I would speak out more loudly, I would boldly say more, and I would push harder for changes.

If you have a loved one who is assigned to a unit for wounded warriors and you know that care is not at a pinnacle, you owe it to your hero to speak up and take action.  If more of us start to speak up, maybe, just maybe, we can start to make a difference.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is being labeled as a movie about 9/11, but after watching it, I’m not sure it’s about 9/11 at all. Maybe that’s because one of my sons has Asperger’s Syndrome and I can relate to the lives, emotions, and struggles of the story’s characters.  I think the movie was more about experiencing the traumatic loss of a relationship which was almost more important than life itself, and figuring out how to move forward without that person’s presence.

I honestly had no idea that Asperger’s Syndrome was a part of the storyline when I entered the theater, and how incredibly close the movie would come to exposing my emotions. I have to wonder if the average individual, without a family member falling somewhere on the autism spectrum, would come away from the film with the same impact that it had on me and my family. After reading the reviews on Rotten Tomatoes, it is obvious that many did not experience the beauty the film had to offer.

This is bound to happen if we go into a theater with specific expectations and preconceived ideas. We’ve all done it and we’ve all been disappointed.  Most of the negative critics seemed to be anticipating another movie about that fateful day, but the movie is not presented that way, in fact, the film’s website says, “This is not a story about 9/11. It’s a story about every day after.”

Could this story have been told without 9/11 altogether?  Yes, I think it could. Everyone suffers loss if they live long enough.  So, why 9/11?  I tend to think it was used as a backdrop because it is an event in which we can all relate to some degree.  It is a day that we will all remember, no matter who we are, where we were, or to what degree we were personally affected. We are drawn to the subject matter. We simply can’t help it.

Before I move away from 9/11 altogether, I will say that the movie did give me a view into the world of a family who literally experienced a personal loss on September 11, 2001, and I think it was important for me to see.  Up to this point, my own definition of 9/11 has really been about the way it affected me, myself, and I. Not living anywhere near New York City, I didn’t know anyone personally who died that day as a result of the terrorist attacks.

Along with everyone else, as an American, I have experienced terrorism as a constant in my mind, and I have been inconvenienced with tightened security at the airport. By 2004, however, September 11, 2001, became the catalyst for what would forever change the life of my family in a way that will always be painful and permanent.  That fateful day eventually prompted my oldest son to enlist in the Marine Corps the first day he was eligible.  Because of that decision, and his military service, he is now a disabled veteran.  The past few years have left me little room to think long and hard about the families who literally lost someone in the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, or one of the ill fated flights because my world has been turned upside down and there simply wasn’t time or energy for me to go there with my thoughts and actions.

I’m grateful for the reality check that I received from Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. I needed to be reminded, and see the world from the perspective of those who suffered personal loss that day.

So why is this film about so much more than September 11, 2001?  If you go see it with an open mind, you will know the answer to that question.  

It is the small details that make this movie great.  I believe that Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is a movie that can be seen over and over, opening new windows and doors each time it is viewed.  I’ve already seen it twice and I gained far more from it the second time than I did the first.  Should I watch it again, I will be ready to look for more tiny pieces of the fabric that make the movie all that is intended to be.

As unrealistic as some parts of the story might be, I didn’t find them any more unrealistic than any other movie out there, and in fact, I believe the film producers and the actors must have gone to great lengths to understand the world of a child living with autism.  For those of us who live life with, and deeply love, a child with Asperger’s, there was plenty of reality in the film.

The movie had me shedding tears of laughter as well as tears of heartache.  There were so many scenes familiar to my life.  Oskar Schell, played by Thomas Horn, saw the world through a kaleidoscope of numbers. I can relate to that as my own son has a similar view of the world.  It’s no wonder that he is a math and physics major in college and finds that the more difficult a class, the more joy it brings him as he solves the challenges with which he is presented. Not being a numbers person myself, I am always fascinated by the fact that my son can relate just about everything on the planet to some sort of number.

Oskar says it like it is.  If you know an Aspie, you know that what runs through the mind comes out of the mouth. How many times have I wished I could hide when my own child told someone the bold truth, usually something which needed to be said, but something the average individual would never dare say. I found Oskar’s frankness refreshing, familiar, and heartwarming.

Individuals with Asperger’s struggle to communicate.  It was endearing to see that Thomas Schell (Tom Hanks) created a business card for his son, understanding the incredible struggle it was for Oskar to initiate conversations.  Even more endearing to me were the elaborate quests designed to reach Oskar in his world and bring him into the world in which the rest of us reside, teaching him to take courageous steps to get to the answers he needed.

Rather than focus on the far fetched idea that a 9 year old child would walk the streets of New York alone, consider the fears that Oskar had to conquer and the tools he carried in his backpack to make the mission happen.  The book Oskar carried, certainly not needed for this quest, defined the time spent with his father, as well as their relationship. Fig Newtons were included because we all need our comfort foods. Each time I heard Oskar shake his tambourine, it brought a smile to my face and I felt a tug on my heart.  I get it.  I’ve watched my Aspie struggle for years to step out of his comfort zone.

I found the scene where Oskar tries to escape his emotional turmoil, hiding under his bed to be very profound, not because Oskar was under his bed, but because this behavior was so well understood by his family.  The first place his grandmother looks for him is under his bed.  She doesn’t ask him to come out, but instead, lies down on the floor as she has obviously done many times in the past.  She stays there for hours as if this is just a normal part of her day. Oskar’s mother comes into the house and heads directly for his room, knowing that underneath the bed is where she will find her son on what is obviously “the worst day” ever.

Living life with an autistic child requires a different level of understanding. It requires a willingness to leave what the rest of us consider “normal” and accept that place which while strange, is the comfort zone needed to forge the path of communication for our child.

And what about the mother, Linda Schell, played by Sandra Bullock, who appears to be absent for most of the movie? There was a nagging in the back of my mind as I could hardly see letting any child run throughout the streets of New York alone, but with the limited time a movie has to fill us in on every detail, my questions were laid to rest as the movie came to a close. Not only did I find out that Linda Schell was right there with Oskar the entire time, I found out that she had gone ahead of him, prepared the way, and then, with all the faith she could muster, allowed Oskar to seek the answers he needed to move forward in life.  She found the key to a future relationship with Oskar that was very much needed, especially now that he must move forward without his father.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close opened a miraculous window to the world of my Aspie.  It prompted a lengthy discussion between me and my son that was undoubtably one of the most precious conversations we have ever had.

“I’ve never been so emotionally affected by a movie,” he told me.   This may sound strange to most, as people often think that autistic individuals don’t have emotions, but nothing could be further from the truth. Those with autism spectrum disorders have problems processing emotional information, and often an inability to express their emotions, but that doesn’t mean the emotions aren’t there.

Our discussion took many twists and turns, and I learned many things about my son as he shared thoughts and feelings with me that he had never spoken out loud to anyone.   Had we not viewed the film, he would never have been prompted to open up and let me into his world in such a personal way.

My son shared with me that while life had been a challenge, and he had endured many negative trials along the way, he also realized that having Asperger’s Syndrome was actually a gift.  He has come to this revelation over the past year, with the help of the incredible support given to him through the Kelly Autism Program at Western Kentucky University.  He realizes that he could never be so good at what he loves without being a little bit different from the rest of us.  He also realizes that being a little bit different is really just in the eye of the beholder and that what makes him unique is likely one of his biggest blessings.

If you can get past the fear of stepping up and standing out, you will find that life is a lot more worth living on the edge.  You will have to stop worrying about what everyone thinks of you, but truth be told, it only matters what God thinks anyway.

Standing out isn’t easy, but more often than not, it’s the right thing to do. I’m blessed to have a pastor (Jon Weece) who reminds me that it’s okay to stand out and be just plain weird!  If only I’d known that being called a weirdo back in the day was actually a good thing!

Stand up for what’s right. Stand out for the truth!

By the way, you can be enjoy being weird too. Come to Southland Christian Church this weekend and find out why being weird is a good thing!

I’m not a gambler, but if I had to place all my eggs in one basket, I would place my bet that it is the system that is at fault.  There can’t be any other reason for VA employees to have such bad attitudes and treat our veterans with such negative behavior. I’ve heard far too many veterans share their stories of heartache, humiliation, frustration, and rejection that they experienced during an appointment at the VA. I’ll admit that I have heard some positive stories, but I believe they make up less than 10% of what has been told to me.

Because of my role within Military Missions Inc., I have been working with our local VA here in Lexington, Kentucky, for a few years.  We give financial support on a regular basis to some of the programs offered to the veterans learning to live with PTSD, but one of the main goals I had when we started supporting our veterans through the VA was to establish a way to create a relationship between the veterans and our organization’s members.  I want our veterans to know that they are appreciated and we are here to support them.

As an advocate for veterans and military families, I have made it a point to meet many of the people who work within the VA system.  I have become educated on programs offered and the “go to” people for each.  I have gone to many seminars and conferences  to learn as much as I can about traumatic brain injury and PTSD, how these issues affect our veteran population and their families, and what type of support is out offered as I am often approached by people looking for resources, not to mention I am the parent of a disabled veteran who lives with these issues.

I’ve found that the VA seems to have the monopoly on care in this town.  In fact, they seem to work hard to make sure that every resource leads right back to them because their funding is based on numbers and these numbers drive the train.  Sadly, the numbers are obviously about the almighty dollar and not about the veteran and his family receiving quality care.

When I first became involved with the VA, I had heard plenty of horror stories, but my interaction, as an advocate in the community, was positive. Everyone I spoke to seemed to be very dedicated to helping our veterans and I had a pretty good feeling about what was going on.  It wasn’t until my own son became one of the numbers at our local VA did I begin to see another side to the story.

Our son, and our entire family, had a pretty rough time dealing with the poor care within the Wounded Warrior Battalion at Camp Lejeune, NC, but I was optimistic that once our Marine began his care at our local VA, things would take a much more positive direction.  I promised him that things would get better because I knew these people and they really cared. My son seemed optimistic.  I even made the effort to go in and speak to an employee and give him some background on our past situation and the reality that my son simply didn’t trust in the system after all we had been through with WWBN-East, and though it might be difficult, I knew they cared and would take him under their wing. I had a good feeling about a fresh start now that my son was home.

It wasn’t long before we ran into problems, and I’ll have to admit that in the beginning, I really thought my son simply had a bad attitude.  I really couldn’t believe that professional care givers could honestly be so uncaring. While I completely understood my son’s lack of trust in the system, I thought the people here were going to be different.

I did my best to stay out the situation as my son was not really asking for my help anyway. He was doing his best to be independent. After all, no adult wants their mommy coming to their defense.  The caregiving community at the VA gives us parents little, if any respect, and in most cases, it just makes everything worse if we try to get involved. Employees hide behind HIPAA laws and build a wall between the veteran and his family members.

About 15 months into it, I was asked for my input and advice.  Out of shear frustration, my son had to ask me for help. The more I discovered through researching my son’s records and speaking to others, the more I began to realize that the biggest problem was likely the total disrespect with which he was treated and the gross misunderstanding that employees must have about the symptoms and treatment for PTSD and TBI, conditions in which my son, and countless others, have been diagnosed.  I find this part of the problem ironic since the VA has the supposed experts working on their staff and countless pamphlets with information to educate on PTSD and TBI.  You would think it would be the one place where there would be a true understanding of how these invisible wounds affect our veterans, and care and attitudes would be grounded in this knowledge.

Frankly, I could fill a few good books with all the situations we have gone through in our family alone, but I have kept my mouth shut for the most part for the past two years.  This town is too small for me to speak out without further repercussions and my son is already a marked man at the Lexington VA Medical Center. He has left the VA for most of his health care getting treatment in the community, some of which my husband and I have paid for out of pocket just because we knew our son needed real help. Now my son only goes to the VA when it is absolutely necessary.  He is actually doing much better now that he sees professionals that seem to care about his existence on this planet, but unfortunately, since he is a disabled veteran, he has to show up at the VA from time to time or he will lose his benefits and end up living under a bridge with the other homeless veterans in our community.

Just the other day, once again, he shows up to a mandated appointment only to leave having been told that he is going nowhere in life.  He just successfully finished his first semester of college, but apparently, he was told that he is doomed for failure and needs to change his course of action. Apparently, he is a risk to the way the “numbers” are going to look on somebody’s job performance report. Rather than encourage the progress he is finally making, he is told he is more likely to fail and apparently, his life is not worth as much as the employee’s job performance report.  I’d say that person is in the wrong line of work as they have no clue what it really takes to help a disabled veteran achieve success. My blood is boiling once again and I think I have just about reached the end of my patience.

As the founder and president of Military Missions Inc., I have continued to feel that the best thing I can do is keep supporting the individual veteran through the various support programs we have in place and to continue the relationship we have with the VA however,  for the past several months, I have literally had to force myself to show up each month. A feeling of dread comes over me a day or two before, and when I drive into the VA parking lot, I literally get sick.  My mind is filled with the insensitive treatment which my son and myself have received.  I recall the poor medical decisions which I feel could have easily caused my son’s death.  It’s only by the grace of God and his determination that he is still here with us.  I keep trying to put one foot in front of the other and show up to support the veterans, but frankly, I just don’t know how much longer I can do it.  I have to decide if hosting monthly Bingo as well as other events during the year, and providing $500 in monthly support is more effective than speaking up for our veterans.  They really don’t have a voice because the system is designed to deliberately keep them from speaking out for fear of being marked and losing benefits.

If my son was the only veteran having a hard time dealing with the VA, I would be the first one to to admit that it must be him causing the problem, but I know for a fact that there are countless veterans going through the same issues.  I also know that if there was nothing wrong, I wouldn’t be met with angry glares, defensive answers, and downright avoidance by those who work for the VA. I also want to make it clear that I never speak out until I have completed my homework. I do know that this widespread problem is not the fault of one disabled veteran.

I am risking much to speak out, but I am risking more to stay quiet.  I think my son’s life, and the lives of the veteran population here in Lexington, Kentucky, are far more important than whether or not someone at the VA wants me to show up and host Bingo.

I started Military Missions Inc because I thought it was important for the people of our community to give back to those who serve on our behalf.  I try my best to keep this support positive, but I’m not helping anyone if I continue to keep my mouth shut and do nothing. There is a reason that God allowed our family to go through this nightmare and I don’t think it was so I would keep it all bottled up inside.  I think God has a purpose and I’m ready to take it on.

I honestly don’t know where this is going, but I do know that I’m compelled to start talking about it. I’ve got a list of topics and issues on which I will be writing, all with some sort of a personal experience just so you know that I am not writing fiction.  Let the chips fall where they may. Lives are more important than numbers.  My veteran is a living breathing human being, not a statistic on the job performance report for someone waiting on retirement.

I spent the first 40 some years of my life enjoying all the sacrifices given on my behalf without ever feeling as if I was affected personally. It wasn’t until my oldest son chose to serve in the United States Marine Corps, during a time of war, that my eyes were opened to the reality of what people were really willing to do so I could continue to live in a free nation.

My life has changed quite drastically in the past eight years since my son stepped out of our house and onto the yellow footprints on the soil of Parris Island, South Carolina. I have now lived through three combat deployments, from the homefront, of course, and I have watched my son struggle after being injured and disabled.  I have watched him slowly, but surely, begin to put his life back together, and I have been overwhelmed and amazed at the number of challenges he always seems to face.  More amazing is that he manages to overcome them, one at a time.

Click here to read more.

If you don’t cast your vote, then you really don’t have the right to complain later on about who is serving in office.

We can’t make a difference if we don’t do our part. Each one of us, no matter how rich or poor, has the same opportunity to cast one vote.

Great men and women have served, sacrificed, and died so you and I can cast our votes today.

Let me repeat that!

GREAT MEN AND WOMAN HAVE SERVED, SACRIFICED, and DIED so YOU and I can cast our votes today!

I don’t know about you, but when I look at it from that perspective, I can’t imagine being too busy or too lazy to get my rear end over to the precinct and cast my vote.

Thank you to those who put our nation before themselves and allow us the freedom to make choices and ensure our voices are heard.

I heard these words of wisdom while at church one Sunday morning. I’m not sure where they originated, but I would imagine they came from the lips of one who is often full of joy.

Just tell me why I should vote for YOU!  That is all I need to hear from you.

Let me do my own research on the other candidates. If I want to get to know them up close and personal, I can dig for their dirt all by myself.

I’m really tired of all the negative campaign ads.

Sincerely,

Sick and Tired in Kentucky

A letter to Sergeant Major Michael A. Logan, Marine Corps Recruiting Command

Dear Sgt Maj Logan,

Today my youngest son, a 17 year old high school senior, received two more pieces of recruiting material in the mail.  You have been sending him mail since he was a sophomore, but I found receiving this mail even more appalling today because I completed the Military Recruitment Opt-Out Parent Form on August 4, 2011.  I will admit that it was a choice that felt strange and almost foreign to me, but there was no hesitation in my decision the day I signed my name on that form.

I feel that military service is one of the most honorable professions one can choose.  I am grateful for those who are willing to serve and sacrifice on my behalf so that I can continue to live in the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.  I know that it is imperative that our nation have a strong military, and with no draft, we need people to step up and serve.

So why, you ask, did I sign the Opt-Out form?  Basically, I want to make a point.  I have already given one child to the Marine Corps.  He served three combat tours for our nation.  He gave his heart and soul to the United States Marine Corps.  He believed that Semper Fidelis meant ALWAYS faithful.  He believed that when the Marines say that they will never leave anyone behind, they keep that promise.

Unfortunately, some who wear the uniform of the United States Marine Corps did not follow through and they were not faithful to the end.  These men let my son down.  These men let our family down, and we all know that my son is not the only one of this path of rejection, despair, and deplorable health care.

First he was denied quality care by the Wounded Warrior Battalion, and now he has all but given up on the local VA Medical Center, as the employees are apparently too overburdened to have an ounce of care left in them to take care of our disabled combat veterans.

Until the military, and specifically those who wear the uniform of the United States Marine Corps, can take care of their own and live up to their promises, you are not welcome to send your recruiting materials to my home.  If you can’t take care of these men and women when they return home from war, broken and unable to serve, then do NOT come knocking at our doors to take our remaining children away.

Instead of promising teenage boys that they can be among the “greatest heroes this country has ever known, forever belonging to an elite brotherhood of specially trained warriors”, perhaps you should be promising our injured Marines that you will take care of them no matter the outcome.  Forever belonging is a term which is obviously used loosely.  Apparently it is only meant for those who dodge the bullets and the IED’s, and come home without living through anything remotely traumatic.

It is my opinion that you should not bring one more person into military service unless you can guarantee that you will take care of them once they return home from the war zone.  I would imagine that you expect every Marine to do his job to the best of his ability.  You, Sir, are a Marine, and you are not doing your job to the best of your ability if you and other Marine Corps leaders can not take care of each one recruited into the Corps assuring them the best possible care when they return home from combat with injuries.

As a member of the Corps leadership, you spent over a quarter of a million dollars training my son to be a part of Marine Corps Special Operations Command.  I would think you would be more careful with your investment and insist on quality health care and rehabilitation programs that have more to offer than drug cocktails and three month waits between appointments.

I would love for my youngest son to have an opportunity to take his place among the elite few who have come before him.  The first one he would stand beside would be his oldest brother, who served honorably for three combat tours. He would stand next to his brother who was chosen, who trained, and who served honorably in MARSOC.

We all bought the recruiter’s promise back in 2003.  I trusted you, a Corps leader, to take care of my boy.  I signed him over at the age of seventeen to the Delayed Entry Program because you said that the “self-discipline, self-confidence, and the respect my oldest son would receive would be more than worth the sacrifice of training and service.”  We caught a glimpse of that for a few short years until his injuries deemed him unfit for service and apparently, unfit for the Semper Fidelis package promised at Parris Island.

We gave you a child full of promise and potential, but what was returned home to our family was a wounded combat veteran for whom there is no system in place to provide quality care.

Thousands of troops come home physically wounded or suffering with the invisible wounds of Traumatic Brain Injury and Post Traumatic Stress each year.  This war seems to have no end.  The numbers of injured are increasing and the health care system for our troops and veterans is already overwhelmed.  There are too many who need help and not enough services and providers who can treat them.

When sending out future recruiting materials, for every Marine you show pictured in his Dress Blues, perhaps you should also show a photo of the many homeless Marines living under the bridges across this country.  Give these teenagers an opportunity to look at both sides of the coin before they sign their lives away.

I have already given one son for the cause and I have watched the system, as it currently exists, do nothing but further destroy his life. Our family will Opt-Out of military service until the Department of Defense and the Veteran’s Administration are both willing to uphold their end of the bargain and take care of those who serve.

Please don’t mistake my disinterest in allowing another child to enter the Corps as a lack of support for our military. Our family will continue to serve and support our military, their families, and our veterans by giving our time and our talents to meet the needs here on the homefront.  We will fight this battle for those who can not stand alone and we will not stop until every veteran is back home and receiving the support and care needed to move forward and live a fulfilling life.

Respectfully submitted,

Beth Pennington

cc: Fayette County Public Schools

Originally published by the author at Military Missions Inc.

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We are now a nation at war ten years, and we’ve come to expect long security lines at airports where bags are searched and nail clippers, now classified as dangerous weapons, are confiscated. Do you remember the Homeland Security Advisory System? Do you remember what all those colors were supposed to tell us? We don’t even use it anymore because it was used too frequently, never really meant anything, and we simply began to ignore it.

As the tenth anniversary of 9/11 comes to pass, and I reflect back on how that moment in time has come to change us all, I realize that it isn’t just those who lost a family member on that fateful day who now live differently, and it isn’t just the mundane rituals we endure at the airport that affect each of us.

As with many other American families, the changes that have taken place in my family member’s lives are significant because I know as sure as I’m standing here, that if that fateful day had never taken place, I would not be spending my days doing what I now do.  I honestly have no idea what I might be doing if September 11, 2001, had been just another ordinary day, because all that I was doing then, is now just a distant memory.

It has occurred to me that perhaps I need to try to remember back to what I was doing on September 10, 2001. I don’t have a clue what the specifics were for that day, but if I had known that September 11, would redefine the lives of each one in my family,  I would have certainly made more of a mental note of the day’s events.

Ten years ago, I was still teaching. I had left the classroom and was home educating my two youngest sons, who were at that time, ages 7 and 9.  My oldest son, age 15, was attending the local public high school. Our family was caught up in fall baseball, Tae Kwon Do tournaments, and learning as much as we could about our Christian American history.

I was fascinated by all that I had never been taught about history in my public school upbringing, and as I taught my children, we found that we were becoming very passionate patriotic people.  We were in awe of the government that had been set up, and the great men who had founded this nation. We were enjoying our freedoms given to us by those who have made sacrifices in the past, and I’m embarrassed to say that we simply took it all for granted.

And then, in an instant, our innocence was gone. For the first time in our lives, we were frightened, confused, grief stricken, and unsure of what was happening to our safe and free nation.

I know my oldest son was always planning to go into the military, but it never really sunk in because we weren’t at war and he was just a kid. My plan for him to go to college was the only thing on my mind, and when he decided to enlist two years after the events of September 11th took place, I was determined to talk him out of it.  I never once pictured myself as the mother of a United States Marine deployed to a war zone. I couldn’t imagine it, but one day I woke up and found that to be my reality.

I never thought that in sending care packages to those in my son’s Marine unit, I would find myself, seven years later, running a nonprofit organization which supports our troops, our veterans, and their families, but that is in fact, what I do every day.

When my husband and I decided to bring three children into the world, we never once imagined even one of our precious boys would live through the horrors of war, watch friends die, and come home as a disabled combat veteran.

I would have never guessed that, though my son was home from war, that the real battle was just beginning for our family.  Though I managed to survive three combat deployments here on the homefront, I feared for my son’s life more now, because he was stuck in a deplorable health care system which continues to produce unemployed, homeless veterans, high suicide rates, and staggering statistics for broken families.

Ten years ago, I could not have ever imagined myself as an advocate for wounded warriors. I would have laughed if you told me I would stand up against the highest ranks in the military, work side by side with congressional leaders, and that a Department of Defense Inspector General’s team would fly to Lexington, Kentucky, just to spend four days interviewing little old me, a mom to three boys.  Who would have thought that all of my note taking and letter writing would have actually come to make a difference in the lives of our wounded warriors.

Always having been more of an introvert, I would have never dreamed, in a million years, that I would start writing blogs that would grab the attention of national news media.  I barely had the nerve to post my opinion on the world wide web, and yet dishing out a piece of my mind began to have an impact.  Even more out of character is the fact that I now get up and speak in front of groups of people, do local television interviews, and host an internet radio show, but God has put the opportunities in front of me whether I want them or not, and He has put the words in my mouth to help Him make a difference in this Post 9/11 World.  He has empowered me to get up and do things that I would have never considered, even in my wildest dreams.

I’ve learned a lot more about that government that I was once so impressed by, and I’ve learned that the world is not a very nice place.  I have found that I am no longer naive. There has been a lot of pain and hurt in our lives over the past ten years. I’ve been to more military funerals than I care to count, including some for those who saw suicide as their only option.  I’ve got too many friends who have buried their children because of this war, and I’ve met too many veterans who are disabled, homeless, hopeless, and unappreciated.

I’ve watched the past decade take my innocent 15 year old boy, drag him through combat three times, and turn him into a hurt and frustrated man who served his country and feels that he is now all but forgotten.

Looking back, I realize that while my life has changed in a dramatic way, and I feel so changed by the past ten years, I also realize that maybe I’m not so different after all.  I was a full time mom back then, and my job called for me to teach my children and be the best team mom and wife in town.  I never really stopped being a mom.  I just ended up adopting a lot more kids along the way who happened to be wearing the uniform of the United States military.

If you haven’t taken some time to think about how this Post 9/11 World has changed your life in a personal way, I suggest you take a few moments to consider its impact. You might be as surprised, as I was, to realize that one moment in time can truly redefine each one of us in a remarkable way.

As for my family and me, we could be bitter and broken by this cruel path we have been forced to walk, but I’m grateful that we haven’t let this Post 9/11 World steal our joy.  We will keep moving forward, one day at a time. We will continue to give thanks that we haven’t had to make the same sacrifices which other families have been forced to make, and we will continue to step out and help those who need our support.  We can’t go back to that innocent world we lived in on September 10, 2001, but we can move forward and make the best out of the world we live in now.

Originally posted by the author at Military Missions Inc.

I had not yet been awake a full half hour and yet I was already aggravated because, though I had been inundated with information specifically relating to Memorial Day, I had not heard a single reference to anything that was actually connected to the concept that people have given their lives for this country and I thought that was why we “celebrate” Memorial Day.

For many of us, “celebration” is the last word we would ever use to describe how we spend our Memorial Day.  Why is it that for 99% of Americans, Memorial Day is synonymous with the unofficial start of summer?  Probably because only one percent of our population actually serve in our military. Most people are celebrating the long weekend with family outings, camping trips, beach vacations, and more.  Every retailer out there is having a Memorial Day sale with the hope that we will come buy something at their mattress close out sale rather than go down the street and purchase a new car during the “Swap Your Ride” promotion.  For some, the biggest decision made this weekend might be deciding between attending the barbecue down the street and going to the pool now that it’s open.

It is definitely appropriate to “celebrate” our freedom. After all, those who died were fighting to give us that right and privilege, but I thought that was what July 4th was all about.

Memorial Day, originally called Decoration Day, began as a day of remembrance for those who have died while serving our nation.  It was first observed on May 30, 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery.  Congress passed the National Holiday Act of 1971 to ensure a three-day weekend for federal holidays which now finds almost every state “celebrating” Memorial Day on the last Monday in May.

Is that where it all went wrong?  Was it when Congress decided to give everyone a three day “holiday”?  Is that why business owners can throw a few stars and stripes in their ads and call themselves patriotic?

Being involved in a small non-profit organization that supports our military, their families, and our veterans, we don’t just stop one day a year to throw a flag out in the yard and say thanks. Our volunteers are busy everyday doing something to let our troops know we care about them.

I haven’t always been a great support for our troops, in fact, I’m embarrassed to say there was a time when I didn’t give our military much thought at all.  There have been plenty of Memorial Days where you could have found me hitting the beach or buying a sale-priced mattress……and I am not proud of that fact.

One day it all became personal and I was no longer just a blessed individual, who, by the grace of God was born in this country instead of another.  My perspective changed when I found myself to be the mother of an 18 year old boy who was deploying for war.  As I caught my last glimpse of him before he deployed, I suddenly realized that I didn’t care one bit about the insignificant bad habits for which I had spent 18 years nagging at him to stop.  Nothing mattered except the fact that I needed him to come safely back home to me. I knew in that moment that every person who had watched a loved one go to war, and all who had gone to fight, had made huge sacrifices for our nation and for ordinary people like me.

It’s been seven years and I’ve learned a lot from my son’s choice to serve.  I’ve gotten a glimpse of what it really means to love your country.  I’ve had a chance to really consider the sacrifices that are made so that we can live in freedom.  I’ve come to realize that the guys doing the fighting are just some of the many who make a sacrifice. Each one leaves behind a family which must bravely go on during deployments. These family members are making a huge sacrifice as well.

Countless people have given their lives for our nation. Many have made the ultimate sacrifice.  Many live with combat injuries that have redefined their lives. There are thousands who live in a war zone right here in their own backyards because their combat memories haunt them day in and day out. Our veterans struggle with suicide, homelessness, post traumatic stress and traumatic brain injuries. Thousands of families are desperately trying to put their lives back in order because the war has taken its toll.

I’m sorry, but I simply can’t define Memorial Day with a word such as “celebration”.  Memorial Day is about honoring and remembering those who have made the ultimate sacrifice while serving our nation. It’s about doing so in a solemn way which demonstrates our gratitude and appreciation to the family members left behind. They  need to know that the price they paid was somehow worth it.

When you are dead and gone, do you want to be honored and remembered with a mattress close out sale? Enjoy your weekend, but take a few moments out of your day this coming Monday and observe the real reason for Memorial Day.

Click here to watch Memorial Day Remembrance.

Originally published on Military Missions Inc.

Thousands of returning combat veterans are living in our hometowns.  They work in our businesses.  They attend our churches.  They shop in our stores and many inhabit our city’s homeless shelters. They are a part of us, and rightfully so.  Look at what they have given on our behalf.

We can’t simply look the other way, and act as if we don’t see the elephant in the room. The more we look away, the more insignificant our veterans feel.  I know it’s hard to step up and get involved, but do it anyway.  Think of the courage it took for these men and women to go into harm’s way for all of us.  We owe them the same. Rather you know it or not, we were made to be courageous. Each of us can take a stand, lead the way, and do the right thing for our veterans.

Learn to recognize the warning signs for suicide.  If you have a loved one or a friend who has been to war, let them know you are there for them.  Listen to what they are saying, and listen to what they are not saying.  Be there and be willing to advocate for this warrior who risked his life for you.

To find out more, listen to the podcast. Join the communities of Military Missions Inc and Voice of Warriors and help us make a difference.

If each one of us can reach just one struggling veteran, then each one of us can save a life.

Click here to listen to the podcast.

Originally published by the author for use by Military Missions and Voice of Warriors.

For the longest time we have been trudging through the stages of grief, longing for the old guy to walk back in the door, but it just hit me, that what we really need to do is get to know the new guy.

Dealing with the invisible wounds of war is not easy.  We haven’t experienced the physical death of our loved one as thousands of military families have since the war on terror began ten years ago, and we are so grateful for that.  We have, however, experienced a loss.  The boy that left our home to enlist in the Marine Corps never came back home.

The person who returned to us was a very changed individual.    His contagious smile is missing, the sparkle in his eyes now gone. His positive outlook and his funny disposition are hidden from view.  Instead of the optimistic, larger than life guy who once lived in our home, we are now looking at one who often seems like a stranger; one who seems lost, angry, confused, and broken on most days.

Every aspect of our lives is now different.  The simplest conversations can go in a wrong direction instantly with each of us having no idea how we triggered such a controversy.  Tasks that were, at one time very simple, are now overwhelming and can redefine an entire day or week.

All the while we are learning to navigate this new path as a family hoping to support our hero, we are also going through the stages of grief.  We didn’t even realize we were going through the grieving process because we thought that is something for people who experience a physical death in the family.

We walked the road of shock, denial and isolation for a long time.  We couldn’t accept that things were different and we really didn’t want anyone to know what we were experiencing.  Most of the symptoms of PTSD and TBI appear like behavior problems.  We thought it better to just keep quiet about what was happening.

The pain and guilt stage was, as you would expect, excruciating.  It seemed as if it would never end. We felt guilt because we were angry.  We felt guilt because our son was still alive, while others buried their sons. We felt we had no right to feel that we had “lost” our son when others truly did lose theirs.

Why us?  Why our son?  How are we supposed to fix this?  Every time he walked in the door we saw the face of the boy we had loved for 24 years, but the person before us was a stranger to us.  For a very long time we could not move forward because we had to relive the loss over and over and over with each new day.

Needless to say, this phase of pain and guilt led into full fledged anger and frustration.  We needed to blame someone.  For awhile we blamed the war, the military, the health care system, and the government.  While there are many things that need to be fixed in all those areas, in the end, we weren’t moving anywhere near healing and it wasn’t long before we found ourselves in the stage of depression.

Depression found us realizing the true magnitude of our loss and a view of a lifelong road of struggles and frustration ahead.  It was at this point, we became numb.  It became too hard to keep going down the road of anger and sadness so it was easier to simply turn off the feelings and go through the motions of every day life.  We found ourselves bracing for the worst, expecting the pain, and building a wall around ourselves to protect us from the daily obstacles that seemed to keep us from what we had once defined as our normal lives.

Then one day, a wall of emotion came tumbling down and I felt like I might never stop crying.  I sobbed and sobbed until there wasn’t a tear left to drop and then, as if God had put a burning bush in my front yard, it hit me.  I don’t want to mourn the loss of the old guy who went to war for even one more minute.

I just want to get to know the new guy.  I want to know everything there is to know about my hero.

The new guy has bits and pieces of the old guy.  Sometimes I can almost see the sparkle in his eye.  That familiar smile flickers now and then.  I’ve learned some awesome things about the new guy and I like what I see.  The new guy has a unique sense of humor, and I’m growing to like this part of him more and more each day.

The new guy is a brave and courageous man who stood in harm’s way for people he will never meet.    He’s got some great tips on survival and rescue, so he’s handy to have along when we take our annual trip to the middle of nowhere for our family reunion. Though he won’t talk about it, I know he has saved a life or two along the way, so I feel comfortable, and a little bit proud, knowing I can count on him. He’s got my back.

I see his confidence growing and I see him taking life’s hard knocks and using them to make him a wiser and more mature individual.  The new guy is a fighter, a real survivor. This new guy doesn’t give up! He’s not going to let the battle on the homefront take him down.

I’m glad I finally figured out that I’ll never get to know the new guy or enjoy the plan that God has for his life, if I’m stuck in my world of grief.

I’ve got hope that God will take this broken veteran and rebuild him better than ever before.  My veteran has the promise that God will never leave him or forsake him.  He’s got the chance to find out how awesome and amazing the Almighty God really is and what life is really all about when God makes something beautiful out of something rather messy.

I know my veteran has the potential to help a lot of other veterans who will come along behind him on this path. I also know there are other veterans in front of him who will do their part to encourage him to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

In the meantime, I need to love this new guy unconditionally, support him without reservation, pick him up when he falls, and give him what he needs to keep moving forward.

If you’re struggling because your combat veteran lives with the invisible wounds of war, don’t skip the grieving process.  We all have to go through it.  But do try to get to know the new guy.  He needs you and he wants a place to call home.

This article was first featured by the author on voiceofwarriors.com. 

Take a few minutes to read this article which shares the story of Luke Jensen’s transformation into the world of PTSD and his battle to recover. This is just one of the thousands of stories that are being played out across our nation.

We need to learn more about PTSD and how it is affecting our returning combat veterans. There is a good chance, if you don’t have a family member dealing with the symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress, that you will have a friend, a coworker, or a neighbor who is dealing with the invisible wounds of war. To learn more about the symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, visit our other website, http://fellednot.com,  dedicated to educating others and fostering awareness about the rising epidemic facing our nation.

To find out more about our local support group for family members of combat veterans living with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Traumatic Brain Injury, please click here.

No one wants to talk about the way life turns out for those living with combat trauma because most of the time, it’s not pretty.

The experts will tell you that up to 20% of our troops are affected, but I beg to differ.  How can anyone serve multiple deployments, or even one deployment, in a war zone and come home unchanged?

The changes may be subtle at first, but for most of us who have a loved one dealing with invisible wounds, we can tell you that sometimes the symptomatic behaviors will come out of nowhere.  Many of us find ourselves trying to get to know a completely different person than the one we relinquished to the War on Terror.

There are countless articles out there to educate us on the symptoms of PTSD and TBI.  If you read enough of these articles, you can list the symptoms in your sleep, but it’s really hard to find someone who can help you learn how to live with the symptoms, especially if you are suffering in silence.

The stigma is stifling, therefore most will never step up and ask for help until the problem has manifested into a level out of control.

When it began to sink in that my son might be dealing with PTSD and TBI, I had no idea what to do.  The incident that we later found to be the cause of his brain injury had taken place almost three years earlier.  The subtle changes crept in and took over before any of us understood what was happening.  We had enough sense to know that three combat deployments must have had an effect on our child, but we had no idea what to do because we have never been to war ourselves.

Because we had no “incident” in the recent past, which defined when a change should have taken place, we began to get frustrated, wondering why he was so easily agitated, and never able to relax.  We took it personally when he overreacted with outbursts of anger, and we found it difficult to be around a once very funny and happy guy who now seemed to be down in the dumps more days than not.  When we tried to talk with him, it was as if reasoning skills had flown out the window and we found that we were growing further and further apart from our son.

The pressure being put on him, by the Marine Corps, to suck it up and get on with life was taking its toll and of course, we were forbidden to call the Marine Corps to get information. For six years, we had been well trained and we knew well that Mommy and Daddy do not call the Marine Corps…..ever!

We were six hundred miles away from our son’s base and we had no idea how we could be of any help from such a distance.  We looked around at the many friends we had with military children and things looked pretty good on their side of the fence.  We were too proud to mention what was going on, especially because we were considered leaders in the military support community.

The sad reality, three years later, is that I now know that each and every one of our friends with military children are all struggling with some aspect of PTSD and/or TBI.  I don’t know a single family with a combat veteran who doesn’t have some sort of struggle.  There was one family who seemed to have the picture perfect soldier, but even he, I just recently found out, is dealing with post traumatic stress.

I’ve been to two funerals for Marines who have committed suicide.  I have one friend whose son died because he took his overprescribed medication just as the VA doctor ordered.  I have another friend who buried his son because his boy took something to help him sleep and escape the nightmares after returning home from his second combat deployment. Another friend’s son is likely headed for divorce, and two vets I’ve known for years, have faced legal issues because their flashbacks took place in public places which landed them in the midst of a crisis with first responders who were not certified with Critical Response Training which would have helped the officers to deal more effectively with the post traumatic stress driving the situation.

The war has changed all of these men.  100% of the families we know have been affected by this war.  That’s a far cry from the 20% we are told about in the news.

I struggled with our little “secret” for at least a year before I finally opened up and admitted life wasn’t perfect for our family.  When I allowed myself to swallow my pride and tell a few close friends what we were dealing with, I was shocked to find out that I was not alone.

I wasn’t glad to find out that others were suffering, but I was empowered to become more transparent.  Having founded a nonprofit, I had been given a voice in the military community, but I had no idea that I might be using that voice to address a battle against the stigma of invisible wounds of war using my own personal experience as the cornerstone.

Allowing myself to tell a friend was just the beginning.  In the two years that followed, I learned how to exercise my rights as a taxpaying American citizen, to contact the many lawmakers we have elected to serve on our behalf and ask them to earn the paycheck I help to fund year in and year out. I learned to step out of my comfort zone and stand toe to toe with the highest ranking Marine officers to expose a problem that was being covered up, ignored, and swept under the rug.  I even hosted a DoD Inspector Generals team meeting in my home for four days when they called me one day, out of the blue, and told me they were interested in talking to me about all the reports I had been filing.

Part of the reason I learned to step into such dangerous territory was because there were others who came before me.  A soldier’s mom took on the Army.  When I read her story in the New York Times, it empowered me to speak up for my own son.  I was still afraid, but I couldn’t let my own kid down especially if someone else’s mom was able to stand up to the system!

Ten years of war has taken its toll.  Troops are suffering.  Their families are suffering.  Most are still silent because they watch the rest of us fight an uphill battle that never seems to end.  For every one of us who stands up to fight for quality health care and respect, there are ten bullies ready and willing to squash our efforts.

Please don’t let that silence you!

If you are dealing with the invisible wounds of war, rather it be personally, or because your loved one has served, please don’t carry this burden alone.  There are thousands upon thousands of us out here who can benefit from the de-stigmatization of PTSD and TBI. We can make a louder noise if we speak out together and with enough persistence, we can demand better care for our combat veterans living with PTSD and TBI.

Please contact us at Military Missions if you need support. We may not have all the answers, but we will sure do our best to help you find the support system you need to live life despite the invisible wounds of war.

Originally published by Military Missions Inc.

For the past year, the lives of countless people have been affected because LCPL Puckett died an unexpected death.  Our lives will never be the same because he is no longer with us, but the difficult part to come to terms with is how he died.

It’s normal to worry, and we almost come to expect our troops to die in the war zone, but it’s not within the realm of our understanding to get our loved one home from war only to find them dead a few days later.  According to the coroner, the cause of death would likely be “overdose”, but the true cause of this combat related death is Post Traumatic Stress.

We all knew something wasn’t right.  After his return from his first deployment to Iraq, his parents were concerned about him, but as all Marines do, Adam insisted that he was fine.  He returned to his base to train and prepare for the next deployment just a few short months away.

During the second deployment, this time to Afghanistan, Adam’s unit was in the middle of the nightmare.  Fourteen men from Third Battalion, First Marine Regiment lost their lives in Helmand Province, Afghanistan, including one of LCPL Adam Puckett’s good friends, LCPL Timothy J. Poole.  Needless to say, many more Marines were physically wounded, and it may be years before the baggage of invisible wounds carried home by this unit can be ascertained.

As you can imagine, all of us here at home were extremely concerned about how Adam might be handling things when we realized his unit was dealing with such atrocities.  The communication during this deployment was infrequent and it was apparent that Adam was indeed profoundly affected by the second tour of duty.

When he returned from deployment, Adam told his parents that he did not want the big fanfare again this year.  The prior year, a limo was rented and we were all there to welcome him home from war.  This year, Adam preferred to arrive home quietly.  He was withdrawn and it wasn’t long before his parents urged him to get treatment.

Could Adam have reached out and asked for help?  Marines are supposed to be tough. They know they need to exercise the “suck it up” mentality.  Though the Marine Corps will tell you that there is no stigma, and leadership insists they want their Marines to step forward and ask for help, Adam knew better.  He knew enough about what other Marines had been through and he wasn’t about to go anywhere near that dark place.

Just like everyone else, Adam figured he could handle it himself.

Less than two weeks after he returned to his hometown of Lexington, Kentucky, Adam was dead.

The nightmares were keeping him up.  He couldn’t sleep. He just wanted to get some rest.  He just needed some way to fall asleep.  One night when he was dying to get some sleep, he took something to help him escape the nightmares.  Adam never woke up.

You know how it feels to be so exhausted you can’t even think.  We can all relate to the feeling of desperation when we must get our rest.  We can all relate to the horror of a nightmare, but do we know what it’s like to be unable to sleep because we have to live with the baggage we have brought home from war?

Thousands of troops are coming home from this ten year war bringing the baggage of Post Traumatic Stress.  Most of these souls are not receiving any help because the system currently in place is failing them. For those who do ask for help, they find their careers coming to an end. They are sent home, from the few and far between appointments, with grocery bags full of medication that only aggravate their problems.

And what happens to the family members of these men and women suffering with PTSD?  Most will tell you that they live in a crisis that never seems to end until death knocks at their door, and then the crisis becomes even worse.

When war takes the life of one on the front lines, we all grieve. We must live with the emptiness that accompanies the loss of that life cut short, but we honor that hero for his courage and we carry the burden with pride and dignity.

This is not so when the warrior makes it safely back to the homefront and then dies by his own hand or accidentally while attempting to survive the horrors of war. The lack of understanding and compassion, accompanied by the judgment and stigma is overwhelming.

There is guilt felt by the family members left behind as they wonder if they could have done something to change the outcome.  The band of brothers must now add another death to their already insurmountable baggage being carried day by day. Survivors guilt is felt by those who still have living breathing family members.  Everyone is at a loss as to how to comfort the family.  There is simply no way to take away the pain.

I have personally watched the Puckett family try to put their lives back together now that their only son is gone. Life as they knew it ended on July 8, 2010.  Their smiles have been replaced with tears.  Their purpose in life, as parents, came to a screeching halt.  Our time spent together is now centered around the loss of Adam and visits to his grave site.  Try as hard as we might to remember the happy days of Adam’s life, we always come back to the sobering fact that he is no longer here.

Jeremiah Workman, author of Shadow of the Sword, is a retired Marine, disabled by PTSD. While speaking at the Visible Honor for Invisible Wounds event in Washington, DC, he recently stated the following: “PTSD doesn’t discriminate against age, rank, color, sex, or valor awards.  I don’t care who you are, PTSD is out there and it’s alive and well. The elephant has been sitting in the living room for way too long.  It’s right in front of the TV and everyone is afraid to say something to it, to move it out of the way. It’s right there in front of our faces.”

For many of us who have a loved one who has gone to war, we live with the elephant as well as the ghosts.  We are scared to speak up because we know that society just won’t understand.  We hide the problem and we make it worse by doing so.

For those of us who have stood up to fight the problem, we have grown weary with the uphill battle that seems to get steeper and steeper with every step.  We are exhausted, but we know we can’t give up. We must join together, with others who walk this path, so we can make a louder noise and prevent any further combat related deaths from taking place here on our home soil.

We can’t bring Adam back, but we can make sure that he did not die in vain.  Let’s all become more educated so that we can offer the understanding and compassion needed to help our returning combat veterans as they readjust to life back in the states.

If you are one who suffers with PTSD, or if you have a family member or a friend who lives with this combat injury, please reach out for help. There are resources out there and people who honestly care about you and want to help.  You have served and sacrificed on our behalf and we want to help you move forward and live the life of freedom that your service has guaranteed for all of us.

For more information about support services for combat veterans, please visit our websites at www.military-missions.org and http://fellednot.com.  We don’t have all the answers, but we will do our best to help you find the support you need.

Originally published by the author at Military Missions Inc.

With many more fireworks tents being set up all over town, it’s obvious that Kentuckians are going to spend the gas money saved in the cancelled road trip across state lines to purchase the bigger and better explosives.

Still three days away from the Fourth, my neighbors are already trying out their new toys and my dogs are once again neurotic as they wait for the random pop that sets them on edge.

Our pets and small children aren’t the only ones living on the edge right now.  There are a couple of million veterans spread across the nation, who are likely suffering with some form of Post Traumatic Stress and this holiday is one that is very difficult for many of them to manage.

Some veterans can deal with a planned fireworks display because they know the noise is coming.  They can prepare for it and enjoy the show.  What might be more distracting and cause more of a problem is the crowds.  Large crowds of people can lead a hyper-vigilant vet to experience a panic attack or even a flashback and many veterans prefer to avoid the potential triggers. The veteran in our family can handle the planned show, but not the crowds.  If your veteran chooses to stay home when the family makes their annual trip downtown, be understanding with their decision to remain at home.

What might seem insignificant to us may be the very worst aspect of the Fourth of July for our veterans.  When we step into our backyards to set off our small arsenal of fireworks, we don’t give much thought to our surroundings with the exception of waiting for darkness to fall.  When we set off our bottle rockets, we are ready for the noise and revel in the excitement of the small explosion.

But what about the unsuspecting veteran who lives two doors down?  We all hear the pops in the night for a week prior to the holiday and a week after, and for the veteran who has returned from the war zone, the pops can sound like small arms fire.  If he has not been invited to your backyard show, he may find himself ducking for cover, running for his gun, and his mind may take him back to Iraq or Afghanistan in a split second.

One year, after my son’s return from two tours in Iraq, we decided to spend the Fourth with our extended family.  As dusk fell, we arrived at the home where the party was taking place.  Suddenly, from out of nowhere, we heard a loud boom.  The neighbors next door were setting off their own personal fireworks show.  My son, suddenly thinking he was in Iraq, jumped over a six foot fence and tackled an unsuspecting woman sitting in a lawn chair.  He thought he needed to save her from the explosion of the Improvised Explosive Device (IED).  Needless to say, everyone who saw him fly over that fence, as well as the woman who was “saved” from the explosive, were all extremely startled.  My son was shaken, and it was at that moment that we all wondered if he was going to be okay.  PTSD was just a term we had heard about…..and had no understanding of how it would come to affect the life of our combat veteran.

If you plan to shoot off your own impromptu fireworks show this year, and you know that a combat veteran lives nearby, won’t you consider letting him know prior to your celebration of America’s freedom?  He is one of the few who stood in the gap for your freedom. Take an extra minute to let him know you are going to dazzle the sky with your firecrackers.  He will appreciate your consideration, and he might even come out to watch the show.

Originally published at Military Missions Inc.

I grabbed the first Marine Mom shirt in sight. It wasn’t long before I found another and another.  Decisions, decisions!  Which one should I get?  Oh, what the heck.  I’ll get all three.  In fact, I might as well get a few more because, after all, there are seven days in a week and I can’t think of a single day I don’t need to be telling the world that MY son is a Marine.

Still stuck in the shirt section, I found a great shirt for the Marine Dad in our household and I found shirts which could be worn by proud Marine Corps brothers.  Of course, I couldn’t go home without a shirt for both sets of proud grandparents and then there was the proud aunt, uncle, and cousins I needed to think about.  It was nearly impossible to resist the USMC baby clothes so I grabbed something for everyone small enough to fit into the tiny garb. Before long, I had to put my pile of clothing on the floor because my arm was killing me.  I was well on my way to developing a need for physical therapy during the early phase of my shopping experience before I was willing to stop long enough to find a shopping cart.

With both hands free once again, I was now able to start grabbing Marine Corps mugs, flags, towels, and magnets.  I had magnets for the fridge and magnets for the car and a couple of bumper stickers that would soon be showing themselves around town. This place was incredible and I was so thankful that I had my debit card and my husband had just gotten paid.  I was also glad that he wasn’t with me as I would likely be standing there with only one t-shirt and a look of longing. It was a lot easier to abandon all self-control when he was not on location.

It wasn’t long before my eyes landed on the jewelry section.  I’ve never been one for wearing a lot of jewelry but I found that I simply could not live without the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor earrings glimmering from the display.  I figured I might as well get one of the matching necklaces and bracelets.  After all, they don’t have these back at home.  I might never get another chance to buy such a beautiful set!

I shrieked when I saw the teddy bears.  A teddy bear wearing Dress Blues! NO WAY!  I could not consider driving the 12 hours home without one of those by my side.  Again realizing that it might be a very long time before I had this opportunity to shop, I also grabbed the bear dressed in camouflage.

Typically, I am not a shopper.  I only hit the mall when I have to attend an event such as a wedding and my jeans and t-shirts are simply not appropriate.  When I do finally force myself to go shopping, I usually buy everything I need in one trip.  I’ll get the dreaded dress and while I’m out, if I find a pair of shorts I like, I buy them in three colors so I don’t have to go back to the mall until someone else gets married.

Because of my infrequent trips to the mall, I was able to justify my crazed shopping and I quickly pushed the guilt associated with extravagant spending right out of my mind. I told myself that my husband should be thankful I’m not a shopaholic like other women. I also justified this spending spree as an expense which could be filed in the mental health category for I had awakened earlier that morning with fear and dread because my son was about to deploy. Those feelings were now long gone and I was certain that my shopping tab was going to be far cheaper than any bill for services I could accrue with visits to a shrink over the next several months.  I was certain that this Retail Therapy was a very cost-effective way to handle my Marine Mom stress.

Sure, I was about to spend a small fortune but it wasn’t every day I had the opportunity to purchase these rare and beautiful items inscribed with the motto Semper Fi.  Besides, my son was serving our nation.  He was going to war and I owed it to myself to be in possession of as many Marine Corps items as I could fit in my car for the twelve hour drive home.

I denied myself the Marine Corps throw and the Marine Mom scrapbook supplies.  I could always get those next time.  I finally told myself enough was enough until I saw that adorable camouflage purse. which quickly found its way into my shopping cart along with a USMC water bottle and a USMC gym bag. You wouldn’t expect me to use anything else while I’m at the gym would you?

Originally published by the author at comfycouchcommand

Most children find themselves surrounded by a room full of extended family and friends as they plunge their chubby hands into their very first piece of birthday cake.  It’s their first real experience with the paparazzi.

We may spend outrageous amounts of money on party themes as time passes, trying to outdo what was done the previous year.  Choosing the perfect cake, picking the perfect venue, and deciding what goes into the loot bags can be quite an undertaking, but we love every minute of it because we love our kids and we want to make sure they know they are special.

So what do we do when we realize our precious child will be deployed on his birthday?  With multiple deployments being common, I would imagine that most of our troops have spent at least one of their birthdays deployed.  They might be so busy that the day might pass without them realizing it, but that is not the case here at home.

When my son was deployed for his 19th birthday, I was planning weeks in advance.  It was very important to me that he receive something special to impress upon his mind that we missed him, loved him, and were so incredibly proud of what he was doing.

A month before his birthday, I began shopping for his favorite snacks and items that he had been requesting.  He was living out of a truck in the middle of nowhere in the Middle East so there was no need to send him anything in the categories of electronics and keepsakes.  I really wanted him to have a birthday cake so I searched online and found a recipe for a jar cake.  I made a couple of those and he told me they were good, but I’ve always wondered if he was just being nice.

His box included candles, confetti, streamers, as well as party plates, cups, napkins, and hats for eight of his closest buddies. We included eight loot bags filled with the crazy party favors he loved as a boy.  The box included tons of pictures we had taken and placed in a 4×6 photo album.  We decorated the photographs with funny mustaches and expressions of love and humor.

Every year, on each child’s birthday, I put “Happy Birthday” banners and signs all over our house.  I put them up early and made the family stand in front of the biggest banner for a photo. We even got our dogs to be still long enough to pose for a picture wearing party hats. I figured these photos would put a smile on his face.

Even with all of this planning, it simply wasn’t enough.  We decided to make a video for him. With my ten year old in tow as the videographer, we took our camera with us everywhere we went.   We found several of his friends and had them give him a shout out and we even made a crazysegment where we tried to reenact some of the goings on at home such as how excited we became when we realized we had received one of his letters in the mail.  After checking the mail, I ran up and down the yard waving my hands with excitement while my youngest filmed me acting like a crazy woman.  The neighbors outside at the time still look at me like I have three heads on my shoulders.  Truth be told, I don’t like to be on camera, but I made an exception so I could tell my boy how much I loved him and I didn’t even care what the neighbors were thinking.

I guess, looking back, I was trying to be in control of my son’s special day.  I had not been able to do anything the previous year when he turned 18 at Boot Camp, and I just couldn’t let the Marine Corps dictate another birthday.  In my mind, I was taking my boy out of the war, even if for only a few minutes, so he could open his birthday box and have his birthday party.

We mailed the box three weeks early to be sure that it would arrive.  Mail was taking about two weeks and I was never sure when my son was going to be on base to receive mail.  He was almost always outside the wire.   I wrote, “Do Not Open Until Your Birthday” all across the box so when he called me a week early to say thank you for his box, I was almost annoyed with him for his inability to wait.  Of course, he was never one to demonstrate patience so I glad to know that the war hadn’t changed him yet.

I still remember where I was standing when he called.  It was so good to hear his laugh and know that our month long extravaganza had made his day special.  His buddies were standing by to blow the party horns in the background and the memory puts a huge smile on my face whenever I think about it.  I begged him to call me, if he could, on his real birthday.  I needed to hear his voice that day.

Looking back, it may have been one of my favorite birthdays to plan.  I remember every minute of every day that we worked to make his birthday special.  It was a true outpouring of love from a family to their hero.  He has never forgotten receiving that crazy box, nor has he forgotten the video footage of his quiet and shy mom running around the yard like a lunatic.

On his actual birthday, we took another picture of ourselves in front of the banners which had been put up again that day.  We also enjoyed his favorite birthday cake and ice cream. His youngest brother blew out the candles and I forced the family to sing the birthday song just in case he didn’t call….but he did call.  We got to hear his voice and he got to hear ours though he will be the first to tell you that our family will not be auditioning for the next season of American Idol.

 Originally published by the author at comfycouchcommand.com

He tries to act as if nothing’s wrong because the insurgents may be watching.  His reaction may signal them that it’s time to detonate.  He wants another second to think this out. He sees the wire and he thinks he knows from where it’s originating. How can he get out of this situation without stepping on the wire?  Will the insurgents to see his fear and hit the switch?  As he turns towards safety, will he have enough time to get there?

Most of us will never have to live through a real-life situation like the one described above.  The closest we will come to understanding this fear will be through a movie we watch.  Unfortunately, there are many of us who feel as if we are walking in the shadow of an IED and that Improvised Explosive Device is buried inside our combat veteran.

Simply defined, PTSD is an anxiety “disorder” that develops after exposure to a terrifying event or ordeal in which grave physical harm occurred or was threatened.  Post Traumatic Stress should not be defined with the word “disorder” because Post Traumatic Stress certainly has to be a normal reaction to a very shocking, disturbing, and abnormal experience.

Someone who suffers with Post Traumatic Stress, may often re-experience their ordeal through nightmares. Sleep disturbances, depression, anxiety, irritability, outbursts of anger, chest pain, headaches, and more are a part of daily life. When exposed to triggers in the form of events or objects reminiscent of the trauma, flashbacks may occur.

For those who live with someone who has post traumatic stress, life is not unlike living in the shadow of the IED.  The caregiver can be profoundly affected and can find themselves developing Secondary Traumatic Stress (STSD).  Recently I spoke with a mother who was willing to share her story.

It’s like living in a war zone. No matter what I say, he can react with anger.  I never know what is going to set him off.  He becomes enraged in an instant, and most of the time I don’t even know why he is upset.  My son is anxious and tense all the time.  He has isolated himself from the family and seems resentful because we don’t understand where he’s been.  We know we can’t ever understand, but is that our fault?

We would do anything to help him, but he won’t let us in.  He never smiles or laughs anymore.  Instead he worries and frets.  His personality is so changed that we simply don’t know him anymore. He knows he needs help, but he refuses to trust anyone enough to accept any assistance.

He often feels so discouraged and overwhelmed with survivor’s guilt that he will tell us we would all be better off if he had come home in a body bag.  He remembers the loss of friends in combat and feels the stigma that society has cast upon him and he wishes he was dead.  He tells us that we could have been proud of him if only he had died in the war, but now he sees himself as nothing more than a disgrace.  We try to tell him that he is wrong.  We love him and we are so proud of him and his accomplishments.  We want to hold him, but our efforts to reach out to him are met with outbursts of anger and threats of suicide.

When things aren’t good and the medications aren’t working, the suicide threats can come often.  A peaceful afternoon can escalate into a life threatening situation in an instant. We live in fear that someday he will act upon his thoughts.  The attempts have happened before, more than once. He doesn’t really want to die, but he wants the pain to end.  Some days, suicide just seems like the only road to make that happen.

One day, we lived the nightmare with him. We watched, firsthand, as he lived through a flashback.  He honestly thought he was in a firefight, having no idea he was safe in his own hometown.  On that day, we were on the front lines of battle and we were certain that our precious child was going to die right before our eyes. Experiencing that sort of fear has left me with my own trauma, which I’m told is Secondary Traumatic Stress.

It can be anything that sets him off.  It can be a bird flying past the window or it can be a comment that is misunderstood.  The instant he reacts, I have my own automatic reaction.  As panic sets in, my heart races, I become nauseous, I begin to shake, I break out in a sweat, and I’m frightened to my core. At this point, I know that just about anything I do is going to be wrong and I’m afraid to move, or speak, or breathe.  I can’t move forward.  I can’t move left or right.  I can’t step back, because any move I make may be the one that sets the course of events into motion that will end in his death.  I am afraid that I will detonate the IED that is buried deep inside my son.

I now find myself living in fear 24/7.  If the phone rings, I’m sure it’s someone telling me that he’s gone.  I don’t want to answer the door because the police might be on the other side with bad news.  If I hear a siren in the neighborhood, I’m sure the ambulance is carrying my son.  Even a story lead on the evening news can take my breath away until I hear that the story is unrelated.  I wake from my own nightmares in a cold sweat and I have even found myself experiencing panic attacks if something random triggers my own fears.

Besides the fact that I’m frightened, I’m living with anger as well.  I feel like I will never be safe from the next crisis and I feel like I’ve lost my child.  I’m trying to figure out why we fought this war and I need to know that the price our family paid was worth our pain and suffering.

Right now, the only thing I’ve got is my faith, and for that I am grateful. I couldn’t live through another day of this never ending pain if I didn’t know that there was some sort of purpose and this was all a part of God’s plan.  There has to be something good that will come from all of this.  I can’t yet see the light at the end of the tunnel, but I know it’s there.  I know God is already ahead of me, protecting me, my other family members, and my child. I know that I must continue to keep my eyes focused on Him.  I know the Lord has a full proof plan to defuse the IED buried deep within my son.  I’ve just got to be patient while He is showing me how to help to disarm the bomb.

Originally published by the author at pactptsd.org

This album was born out of Steven Curtis Chapman’s tragic loss of his five year old daughter, Maria.  “Steven is unflinchingly honest in his exploration of grief and loss.  He asks the questions we all ask when horrible things happen to the innocent, yet throughout the album hope shimmers, faith becomes more real and even more precious, and the peace that surpasses all understanding” is communicated.

My personal favorites on the album are Faithful, Beauty Will Rise, and Spring is Coming.  To find out more about the album, go to www.stevencurtischapman.com/music.htm

Originally published by the author on pactptsd.org.

Listening to contemporary Christian music has been a big part of my survival over the past two or three years.  Songs are often prayers written to music.  Lyrics often teach us scripture or tell a story of struggle and teach us of God’s love and faithfulness.  I am thankful for those that have been gifted with the ability to share their trials and the lessons learned of faith and trust through song.  I’ve got a playlist on my iPod called “Survival”.  I am constantly adding to the list and it takes me about 5 hours to play through the list in its entirety.  I won’t list all the songs here, but I will, from time to time, share a song, the artist, the lyrics, and perhaps why the song speaks to me.

If you aren’t familiar with contemporary Christian artists, I would recommend K-Love or Air 1 Radio.  These stations are broadcast nationwide.  Both have websites which you can visit to find out where you can listen locally to their stations.  These stations are even broadcast overseas, so if you are deployed you can likely find a way to listen, as well.  If there is no station in your area, you can listen online or through a smartphone app.

Before you throw your hands up and walk away from this idea, give it a try for a few days.  You will likely find that your vigil from Fort Living Room is a little easier to face as you live through the days of deployment or the days of recovery you walk with your wounded warrior.

This article was first published at http://www.fellednot.com 

KLove Radio – www.klove.com

Air 1 Radio – www.air1.com

To listen to the playlist, click here.

The most important thing that I’ve learned in the past year is that I just can’t do this by myself. I tried to do it that way until the day that I reached a crisis too big for anyone to handle. My wounded warrior was 600 miles away, suffering a life-threatening crisis, and I couldn’t do anything about it.  I’ve never been more scared in my life and I have never felt so hopeless.  It was, as always, at that point that I called on the Lord to step in and help.  This time, however, it was different.  I was relying on Him on a deeper level than ever before.  I can’t really explain how this felt. I’ve had plenty of experiences where I thought I was in THE most difficult place and there was NO way out, or at least that is what I thought……. until this day arrived.

I wasn’t just going through the motions of asking God to help me.  I was begging as if my every breath depended on His help.  There was NO WAY OUT, and yet, somehow, God did provide the open door.  It was at that moment that I realized that I had learned the difference between thinking God could help me and believing God would help me.  If you are confused by what I am saying, then you probably just THINK God can help you.  If you are chuckling to yourself and nodding your head in agreement, then you BELIEVE God can help you and you have lived through an experience that has taught you the difference.

The beauty of learning the difference between thinking God will help and KNOWING God will help is that when you figure it out, a burden so big is lifted that you will feel like a totally new person, even if your life still seems to be full of turmoil.  I’ve grown up going to church, and have heard the Bible stories about Paul for a lifetime. Paul tells us to rejoice in all circumstances, even the dark times.  I could never quite wrap my mind around anyone being joyful about living in prison, and to be honest, that would be a stretch for me, but I have learned to trust that God knows best. Paul’s teachings make a lot of sense to me now. God knows what I can handle.  He knows my limits.  I trust that He will never give me more than I can handle and with everything He allows to happen in my life, He will also allow me to learn a valuable lesson, if I am willing.

So each day, in all circumstances, I ask the Lord to show me the blessing in the situation and to show me what He wants me to learn.  It’s a true joy to see a blessing in the midst of a difficult experience.  In the past I had always focused on how badly things were going during a trying time.  Now that I’ve focused on finding the blessing, it is so much easier to get through a difficult situation when I know I’ve received a gift from the experience.

Asking God to teach me a lesson was pretty hard to take, at first, because it involved acknowledging my mistakes.  My natural reaction is always going to be to place blame anywhere but on myself. Once I realized that acknowledging my mistakes lifted a burden and spared me from doing the same stupid things over and over, I began to see the blessings multiply.  Wisdom is indeed a gift, one which I just recently discovered was mine for the taking if I was willing to see it for what it’s worth.

If you take nothing else from reading this today, remember, even if you find yourself living through the very worst situation you can imagine, God is there with you.  He will give you what you need to make it through the trial. He will teach you something valuable and He will bless you in a mighty way.

Originally published at pactptsd.org. 

You can select different categories and search for statistics.  Not only will you find numbers, but you are able to click on the individuals who come up in the search results. After spending some time looking at the tool, doing a few searches, and reviewing some of the search results, I’ve come up with a few unanswered questions.

I was interested to see that the category, SUICIDE, is not listed.  There are 58 categories listed*, if I counted correctly, but “suicide” is not one of them.  Why not?  I’m pretty sure a few lives have been lost in this devastating way.  For some reason, suicide is considered a non-combat related death.  Seems to me that combat has certainly taken its toll on our servicemembers with the rise in the suicide rate over the past few years. Suicide is combat related and that, my friends, should be considered a no-brainer when it takes place in a war zone.  While we are on the subject of suicide, it is my opinion that these statistics will never be accurate until all military and veteran suicides are counted as “combat-related” deaths. If the individual saw multiple deployments and/or had a history of displaying symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder combat is likely the primary factor leading up to the suicide.

I am now led to ask another question. I would imagine that illness would also be considered non-combat related, yet those deaths appear to be included.  I agree these deaths should be included if someone died from an illness while in harm’s way, but why not include suicide?

The two categories of “Unknown” and “Other” are interesting to review.  When I asked to see deaths with the cause “Unknown” many were brought to my attention.  Some were listed as “Unknown”, but others were listed as “Accident”, “Illness/disease” or “Combat”.  Is there a problem with the way the tool retrieves information, or is it unknown how the accident or illness caused a death?  What about those listed with the cause “combat”?

What I find even more curious is that there seem to be so many deaths categorized as “unknown”?  Doesn’t someone do an autopsy if it can’t easily be determined as to how a servicemember died?  Do the families of these servicemembers have closure?  Are the “unknown” deaths those we would tag as suicides or does suicide, perhaps fall under the category of “other”?  If you check out deaths caused by “other” you will find the same variety of listings which also include “homicide”.

Homicide……another interesting cause of death.  Why are some deaths listed by specific cause such as RPG, Explosion, or IED, and others listed with the cause of death being homicide?  If they aren’t suicides, aren’t they all considered homicides? In war, aren’t lives deliberately taken by others?  Perhaps it isn’t “unlawful” in combat therefore, these deaths don’t fit that description.  In that case, does that mean these servicemembers were killed by their own?  “Homicide” must mean something different from “friendly fire”.  Perhaps this refers to a death which occurred on base, caused because two people just couldn’t get along????

I commend the efforts by USA Today to give us a picture and some insight into thousands of lives lost in OIF and OEF, however, for those of us who are taking the time to utilize this tool, it gives us cause to ask even more questions.  I’ll admit that I probably look at this situation from a different perspective than most, but I’ve attended far too many funerals for combat Marines who have committed suicide.  Today marks the one year anniversary of the death of Sgt. Tom Bagosy, USMC.  I know his family, and I’ve had a small glimpse into the drastic way their lives have been forever changed.

I leave you with these final queries.

How many more deserve to be listed because their combat-related suicide was not recognized as a combat-related death?

How many people will actually utilize this tool and spend any time pondering the significance and the lasting effects of each and every life listed within its report?

Originally published by the author at fellednot.com

I’m not sure how the other branches do it, but the Marine Corps isolates their recruits from the outside world.  With the exception of letters, they are not allowed to communicate with anyone who is not standing right in front of them.  I know this is necessary for training the new Marine, but, as much as I hate to admit it, I think it’s probably the best way to get the new Marine Mom ready for war.

We all have to learn to let go when our children leave the nest.  We are preparing for the empty nest syndrome for years, whether we realize it or not.  We are forced to release our children, a little bit at a time, from the day they come into this world.  Do you remember the first time you handed your child over to a babysitter so you and your husband could spend a couple of hours together – alone?  What mother could forget the day she drops her child off at Kindergarten?  What about the first time our child spends the night with a friend or goes to camp for a week?  You know you still hold your breath thinking about the first time that child drove off in a car with a brand new driver’s license.  Each of these moments is forever etched in our minds because we had to let go and trust that they would come back to us safe and sound.

For most, the release of our children happens gradually.  As well, we are now spoiled with the evolution of texting, email, and social networks. We can keep in touch with our kids in an instant, or at the very least “spy” on them by keeping up with their status on Facebook.

When my son left for USMC Boot Camp, the release was more of a violent slamming of a door – in my face! I knew that for the next thirteen long weeks I would not see my boy’s face or hear his voice.  At the time, I did not know any other Marine parents so I had gotten all of my information from the recruiters.  I had spent a lot of time with them, asking a lot of questions, but I could never quite get my doubts and curiosities completely satisfied.

My son entered the Marine Corps through the Delayed Entry Program.  DEP allows someone to enlist into an inactive component of the Marine Corps while specifying a future reporting date for entry into active duty service.  My son’s target date of entry was the moment he graduated from high school.  He begged us to sign for him the moment he turned 17.  He needed our permission prior to turning 18. We really didn’t want to do this.  We wanted him to go to college first.

He had spent his sixteenth year of life researching the branches of service and had made the decision that the Marine Corps was where he wanted to serve.  I wouldn’t go sign on his seventeenth birthday.  I remember making him wait a few days.  I guess I kept thinking he would change his mind.  The war in Iraq was in full swing and I was scared.  He made it clear that he would enlist anyway, the minute he turned eighteen, and then he wouldn’t get his chosen Military Occupational Specialty (MOS), and of course, it would be my fault that he didn’t get the job he most desired.

After awhile, I caved in and signed on the dotted line but not before grilling the recruiter with a bzillion questions.  As we sat on the comfy couch in the recruiters office, I fired off question after question.  At one point the recruiter commented that he had never had a mom ask so many questions.  I couldn’t help but wonder why not.  I gave birth to this child and I wasn’t simply going to hand him off to the front lines of a war without knowing every tidbit of information my tiny brain could contain.  Surely other mothers were the same way.  Besides, this recruiter was all of about 25 years old.  What did he know about life?

My biggest fear was that my son might get to Boot Camp and change his mind.  I asked the recruiter what would happen if he simply decided, a couple of weeks into the training, that he would rather not be a Marine.  I changed my major in college three times and I don’t think I was the only young adult who had trouble figuing out what to do with the rest of my life.  The recruiter looked at me and said, “Don’t you think it will be a valuable lesson for him, ma’am?”

“For four years?!?!?!” I asked.

“Yes, ma’am.  He will learn, whether he likes it or not.”

That comment should have sent me out the door without signing the DEP permission.  I’ve always been more of a softy than one who dishes out the tough love routine, but when I looked at my son’s hopeful face and saw the stars in his eyes, I knew I was going to inevitably sign his life over to the United States Marine Corps.

On that day, I let go and gave another release to the big world outside of our home, but it still didn’t seem real because my son came back to live in our home for the next twelve months.

I had no idea his senior year would pass so quickly and I suddenly found myself standing on the front porch watching the recruiter’s car turn the corner, driving our son away to a world about which I knew nothing.  I honestly thought he would change his mind and the Marine Corps would disappear from our lives. I numbly walked inside the house, up the stairs, and into my son’s room where I threw myself on his bed and cried.  After a few minutes, I sat up, dried my tears, and took a good look around his room.  Military posters covered the walls.  Scattered amongst his baseball trophies and his collection of seashells were pewter soldier sets from the Battles of Gettysburg and Yorktown and books about military history.

Why did I not see any of this when he was in the 4th grade?  I guess I just blocked it out.

During the thirteen weeks my son was at Boot Camp, the only communication we had was through handwritten letters.  He wrote to us about twice a week.  I found that I needed to sit down and write him every day.   I shared family news, funny things about our dogs, and never closed a letter without telling my son how much I loved him and missed him, and I always reminded him that I was bursting with pride because he was willing to serve his country.  It was my way of keeping the lines of communication open. This was one way that I could still be in control, managing a way to deal the mandatory communication gap created by the Marine Corps. It occurred to me later that this was likely a part of their plan to train me to deal with upcoming deployments.

He turned eighteen while at Boot Camp.  To him, it was just another day on Parris Island.  We later read in one of his letters that he didn’t even know his birthday had come and gone until a nurse made a comment to him while reviewing his file. On the other hand, I had always viewed his birthday as more of a national holiday so, at home, we made a cake and blew out his candles.  It wasn’t the same without our birthday boy, but I managed to live through the day.  I now see that this was another step in my own “boot camp” training because the next five years would find me celebrating his birthday without him.  Deployments, training, and hospitalization would be defining upcoming birthdays.

When our children deploy, they can’t take our phone calls from the front lines.  Cease fire!  My mom’s on the phone!  If only it were that easy.  We have to learn to wait for the phone calls, the emails, and the letters.  We have absolutely no control over any part of their lives.  It was a huge process to get used to this life change during Boot Camp, but looking back, I’m glad it took place.  It was a lot easier to learn how to adjust to this monumental release without also having to worry about IED’s and firefights.  That is an entirely different pill to swallow.

Originally published at comfycouchcommand.com

What is STSD?

What can families of trauma survivors with PTSD do to care for themselves and the survivor?

• Continue to learn more about PTSD by attending classes, viewing films or reading books on the subject.
• Encourage, but don’t pressure, the survivor to seek counseling from a PTSD specialist.
• Seek personal or family counseling if troubled by “secondary” trauma reactions such as anxiety, fear, anger, addiction, or if you are having problems in school, at work or with intimacy.
• Others in the family may find they have low self-esteem issues and blame themselves for the survivor’s unhappiness. There is a good chance that the family members will feel unloved and inadequate.  Seek counseling for anyone in the family who seems to be exhibiting any of these symptoms.

Originally published at http://pactptsd.org

When nothing seems to be going right, treatments, programs, and health care providers may be the first place we will point our fingers of blame, but we need to realize that if we don’t have a good understanding of PTSD, we ourselves, the family members and caregivers, could be inflicting the secondary wounds onto our PTSD survivor. It is crucial that you gain an understanding of Secondary Wounding. It could make the difference between having a relationship with your traumatized veteran.

Because PTSD is considered an “invisible wound”, it is often impossible for others to recognize one is struggling with this condition.  Cruelty and harm can often begin right in the family.  Even friends and trained professionals can create a bigger problem for the affected individual.  Instead of providing support, a typical response from those of us around the trauma survivor may be one that causes shame.  Negative reactions to behaviors characteristic of PTSD are common and most of us will react in a way that is hurting rather than helping with recovery.

Our combat veterans are expected to be strong, invincible, macho, and without fear.  For this reason, it takes an incredible amount of courage for the veteran to tell someone else that they are experiencing difficulties.  Often trauma survivors will go for long periods of time suffering alone for fear that they will be judged unfairly. It may start with their commanding officers who may  dismiss the complaint and respond with an attitude that leaves the soldier feeling inadequate.  “Get over it and get back to work.”

Don’t be surprised if you don’t see your name written next to one of these descriptions.  If you do, don’t beat yourself up.  Just be grateful you now understand that you need to make a few changes.  I can honestly say that it has been very difficult for me to change my behavior, my attitude, and my perspective, but it has made a difference in the relationship I am rebuilding with my combat veteran.

Author Aphrodite Matsakis, Ph.D. has written I Can’t Get Over It – A Handbook for Trauma Survivors. In her book, she explains Secondary Wounding.  I have used some excerpts from her book to help you to understand the significance of Secondary Wounding.

Helping A Loved One Through PTSD

Secondary wounding occurs when the people, the institutions, caregivers, and others to whom the survivor turns for emotional, legal, financial, medical, or other assistance respond in one of the following ways:

Disbelief:

Commonly, people will deny or disbelieve the trauma survivor’s account of the trauma. Or they will minimize or discount the magnitude of the event(s), its meaning to the victim, its impact on the victim s life.

Blaming the Victim:

On some level, people may blame the victim for the traumatic event, thereby increasing the victim’s sense of self-blame and low self-esteem.

Stigmatization:

Stigmatization occurs when others judge the victim negatively for normal reactions to the traumatic event or for any long-term symptoms he or she may suffer. These judgments can take the following forms:

Ridicule of, or condescension toward, the survivor

Misinterpretation of the survivor’s psychological distress, as a sign of deep psychological problems or moral or mental deficiency or otherwise giving the survivor’s PTSD symptoms negative labels.

An implication or outright statement that the survivor’s symptoms reflect his or her desire for financial gain, attention, or unwarranted sympathy.

Punishment of the victim, rather than the offender, or in other ways depriving the victim of justice.

Denial of Assistance:

Trauma survivors are sometimes denied promised or unexpected services on the basis that they do not need or are not entitled to such services or compensation.

Beliefs of others can inflict Secondary Wounding

In essence, secondary wounding occurs because people who have never been hurt or traumatized have difficulty understanding and being patient with people who have been hurt. Secondary wounding also occurs because people who have never been confronted human tragedy are sometimes unable to comprehend the lives of those in occupations that involve dealing with human suffering or mass casualties on a daily basis.

In addition, some people simply are not strong enough to accept the negatives in life. They prefer to ignore the fact that sadness, injustice and loss are just as much a part of life as joy and goodness. When such individuals confront a trauma survivor, they may reject, depreciate or ridicule the survivor because that individual represents the parts of life they have chosen to deny.

On the other hand, it also happens that trauma survivors are rejected or disparaged by other survivors those who have chosen to deny or repress their own trauma and have not yet dealt with their loses or anger. When trauma survivors who are not dealing with their traumatic pasts see someone who is obviously suffering emotionally or physically, they may need to block out that person in order to leave their own denial system intact.

The following sections give a brief run-down of some of the common causes of secondary wounding.

Ignorance:

Some secondary wounding stems from sheer ignorance. Especially in the past, there were few, if any, courses on PTSD available to medical, legal, and mental health professionals. Today such courses are available in many locations; however, they are not a required part of the training in any of those fields.

Burnout:

Another cause of secondary wounding is that many helping professionals are themselves suffering from some form of PTSD or burnout. As a result of having worked for years with survivors, they (like those survivors) are emotionally depleted. They may also, like many survivors, feel unappreciated and unrecognized by the general public and by those in their workplace.

“Just World” Philosophy:

Another hurdle victims face is the prevalence and persistence of the “just world” philosophy. According to this philosophy, people get what they deserve and deserve what they get. The basic assumption of the “just world” philosophy is that if you are sufficiently careful, intelligent, moral, or competent, you can avoid misfortune. Thus people who suffer trauma are somehow to blame for their misfortune. Even if the victims aren’t directly blamed, they are seen as causing their own victimization by being inherently weak or ineffectual.

The Influence of Culture:

Our nation was founded by individuals who overcame massive obstacles by means of hard work, self-sacrifice, and physical and emotional endurance. As a nation today, as in the past, we pride ourselves on the can-do spirit and our American ingenuity we are certain we can overcome almost any hardship. The American dream tells us that our country is so bountiful and so full of opportunities that anyone who wants the good life can have it; all they have to do is pull themselves up by their own bootstraps.

Abraham Lincoln is quoted as saying, “People can be happy as they make up their minds to be,” implying that in the personal realm, man can be master of his own fate. If only he were right.

Source: Excerpts from I Can’t Get Over It – A Handbook for Trauma Survivors

Author: Aphrodite Matsakis, Ph.D.

Originally published by the author at http://pactptsd.org

If my disabled vet was in a place where he was capable of even one of those tasks, I would think he was well on his road to recovery.  I have hope, but I’m well aware of the long path we will travel before he is in a good place and my vision of a “good place” is far more simplified than the place where Clay Hunt seemed to be, from an outsider’s perspective, prior to his death.

Knowing that PTSD is a big part of our family’s reality, it scares me to my innermost core to think about the fact that Clay Hunt took his own life.  People like Clay gave me hope.  Clay told me that my Marine could do it because Clay was doing it.  Clay was speaking for my Marine because my son is not ready to speak for himself.  Clay was speaking for me because, from my experience, it seems like no one in this system will ever listen to a mom’s cries for help.

Clay was determined to make sure that our combat veterans suffering with the invisible wounds would not be forgotten, misjudged, and shoved aside. People listened to Clay and now he’s gone.  I’ve got to know that someone else will step up and stand in the gap for thousands of combat veterans who desperately need a voice.

Jake Wood, founder of Team Rubicon, Marine veteran, and close friend of Clay Hunt, understands the significance of the growing suicide epidemic.  Recently interviewed by NPR,  Wood stated the following:  “Well, I think it’s very convenient for the country to not know, and I guess not care, about what’s happening with our veterans and our active duty service members and the suicide epidemic that is growing.  And when I say that I mean that the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were a front page issue for a number of years.

And they’ve since gotten off the front page, and they are now buried in the middle of the newspaper. But I don’t think there’s anything more important than, you know, the fact that our nation is at war, and we have been for almost 10 years. You know, this issue needs to be front and center at the highest levels of our government and there needs to be a very open and candid conversation at the highest levels of elected officials as to what this problem is, what caused it, and the best way to move forward on how to fix it. And I don’t think that conversation is happening, and if it is, it’s not getting the attention it deserves.”

Exactly!  The conversation has started, but it’s certainly not getting the attention it deserves.  One reason the issue of the combat veteran’s suicide is not getting attention is because we don’t want to talk about it if we believe we are not personally affected.  It’s a depressing subject.

Truth be told, however, we are all affected.  Thousands of returning combat veterans are living in our hometowns.  They work in our businesses.  They attend our churches.  They shop in our stores and many inhabit our city’s homeless shelters. They are a part of us, and rightfully so.  Look at what they have given on our behalf. The more we look away, the more insignificant they feel.

Another reason that the combat veteran’s suicide is not getting the attention it deserves is because no one within the highest levels of government is really listening to the people who are on the front lines attempting to keep their combat veteran alive.  No one within the system will ever be able to figure out what’s wrong if they don’t walk outside and take a careful look at what is really going on.  There is a huge disconnect between the combat veteran who is afraid to ask for help and the leaders who have the power to make real changes.  Leaders, you must cross over that bridge and gather the information from those who are holding the bridge in place. You must actively seek feedback from the family members (and I am expressly referring to parents as well as spouses) who know what really lies between you and the combat veteran.

I can’t tell you how tired I am of being made to feel as if I am clueless because I’m just the mom.  I’m tired of my warnings falling on deaf ears, only to find myself in another crisis that could have been avoided.  Stop reacting to a parent’s pleas with defensiveness and LISTEN!  Do you really want to fix the problem? Surely you know that if you ignore it, the problem will not go away.  You must take some constructive criticism and use it as a tool to better your health care system.  You may know war, gentlemen, but you do NOT know my son!

In the last moments of Clay Hunt’s life, I have to think that he knew his suicide would rock our world.  Clay was tired of battling the demons, but he also knew we could not ignore his final message.  On behalf of my son, the other veterans suffering with PTSD, and the families who’s cries go unheard, I thank Cpl Hunt, for a job well-done.  He has passed the baton on to us.  Now, my friends, what are we going to do with it?

Originally published by the author at http://pactptsd.org

In the early years, it’s usually up to dear old Dad to make sure we aren’t forgotten.  It doesn’t take much to make us feel loved.  Any day we can put up our feet and listen to thank you’s is special. The memories of hand-made cards and the burnt toast served by chubby little hands will always be etched in our memories.

As time passes and our children reach the teen years, we are touched to find out that the act of planting those early seeds has blossomed into our children coming up with their own ways to express their love to us on the annual holiday.  The coffee mugs made in pottery class, the marigold ready for planting in the backyard, and the homemade cookies baked just a pinch past perfection are proudly given, and we are touched that these hormonal teens have taken a break from their text messages and Facebook posts to sit down and spend a few minutes to say, “I love you, Mom.”

Through the years, I’ve always been pleasantly surprised by the creativity that has gone into the gifts bestowed upon me for Mother’s Day, but to be honest, I always knew those gifts were coming.  With the Hallmark commercials and the Mother’s Day specials advertised all over town, our children and our husbands would have to be living in a shoebox to miss the fact that Mother’s Day was coming.  I never knew for sure, but I always felt certain that I was going to, at the very least, receive a card or be taken out to lunch.

It goes without saying that my favorite Mother’s Day memory of all time was totally unexpected. It came all the way from the Middle East and it came two days early.  My son, who was deployed to Iraq for the second time, called me to tell me I needed to check my email.  I was fully expecting a wish list of items that he wanted me to send to him in his next care package, but much to my surprise, when I opened my email, I found the most amazing Mother’s Day gift ever!  The moment I saw the photo of my beautiful boy holding the cardboard sign wishing me  “Happy Mother’s Day,” I burst into tears.

There was nothing more beautiful in the entire world than to see that my boy, who was deployed to a war zone, had the forethought to figure out how to make me feel special for Mother’s Day.  I wouldn’t have even expected him to know it was Mother’s Day.  In fact, the year before, during his first deployment, he was outside the wire and had no idea Mother’s Day had come and gone.  I never told him he missed it because he had much more important things on his mind.

Maybe his platoon sergeant ordered him to remember Mother’s Day.  I didn’t know and I didn’t care!  What I did know was that my brave Marine was halfway across the globe and he still loved his mom!  My heart filled with Marine Mom pride and I showed that photo to everyone I knew

It’s been six years since I received this gift but I guess I’m still able to find a way to show it off.  I think it’s worth sharing because it speaks for the many who are out on the front lines right now and simply not able to say “I love you” this year with a card or a phone call.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the military moms past and present.  You’ve raised children who stepped up to sacrifice and serve their nation so you must have done something right!

Originally published on comfycouchcommand.com.

We tried to respect his privacy and we figured that his adjustment was just going to take a bit longer this time.  Prior to deployment, we had a very open and positive relationship with our son.  He would often share his hopes and dreams with us, and he would often come to us for advice.  Family was important to him and he made a point to include us in his life as much as possible, though we were separated by hundreds of miles and five years of military service.

He didn’t talk about his work as a Marine, but he always talked about his buddies.  He would bring them home with him on long weekends and it wasn’t unusual for him to put the guys on the phone whenever we were having a conversation.  Even from the early days of our son’s entry into the fleet, there were always a handful of Marines calling me “Mom”.  Over the years, I’ve taken a bunch of Marines to lunch, and more than once this old lady has been invited to a barbecue with Marines and their wives or girlfriends.

My husband and I found it very difficult to interact with this “changed” son of ours.  The open and positive relationship that we had always enjoyed with him had become strained, awkward, and uncomfortable.  Our son became very withdrawn and angry.  It seemed like the more we tried to talk to him, the more angry he became.  He withdrew further and further and we felt like a stranger had inhabited his body.

As our son’s life began to unravel, he would come to us for help, but our efforts and intentions were always misunderstood and he often seemed confused and frustrated.  It was as if we were speaking a foreign language and he couldn’t interpret what we were saying.  It seemed like everything we did was wrong and angry outbursts would often end any sort of conversation in which we were involved.

Worry began to set in, and after several months, we felt that we just couldn’t sit by and do nothing.  We were completely unsure of what to do because, after all, Momma doesn’t call the Marine Corps…..EVER!  Our family was trained well, and I can honestly say that in those first five or six years of his enlistment, we never once called the Corps.

Truth be told, there was no one to call.  He was never in a unit that had one of those family newsletters going out, and as parents, we were excluded from the family readiness groups available to spouses and children.  For those in the military who are single, they are basically on their own.

And here lies the problem.  For those serving in the military who are unmarried, they have no advocate. HIPPA laws prevent involvement in the health care process unless permission is given. Our single troops are trained to leave Mom and Dad out of things and they aren’t living with a spouse who can step in and insist that help is sought.

TBI and PTSD are invisible wounds.  No one can see them and they often manifest as what appears to be a behavior problem.  Rather than investigate the cause of sudden changed behavior, those with PTSD and TBI are often “disciplined” and do not receive the help they need. This only compounds the frustration and will likely lead to much bigger problems.

Without an advocate who might be able to insist that medical care is sought, those suffering with PTSD and mild TBI often go untreated. If they have sought help, it is likely that they are on multiple medications that often prohibit any type of proper diagnosis. With TBI, reasoning skills are often affected. Tack on PTSD, and a medication with side effects, and you have a recipe for disaster.

With suicide rates in the military higher than they have ever been, as parents, we can’t afford to sit back and do nothing because the system is designed to keep us out.  We may not be knowledgeable about combat, but we know our children better than anyone else.  We need to know what the warning signs are for PTSD and TBI, and if we see these signs emerging in our adult children, we need to get involved to make sure they receive proper care.

With multiple deployments, it’s a wonder anyone could come back from war and be unaffected.  Be on the lookout for changes in your child’s behavior.  If you see warning signs, don’t ignore them.  Even if you feel like you are being shut out, there is plenty you can do to learn about dealing with PTSD.  Your child is going to need your support more than he will ever know, so be ready.  Be armed with knowledge so you can survive the “new normal” in your child’s life.

To find out more about the symptoms of PTSD, visit http://www.ptsd.va.gov/public/pages/what-is-ptsd.asp.

To read current news articles about combat PTSD, visit http://fellednot.com/news/ptsd/.

~ This blog article was first published at  http://pactptsd.org

I was already late for my appointment but I was not driving one inch further from the house without my phone.  My son was deployed and there was no way I was taking a chance on missing a call.  He wasn’t supposed to be calling, I just wanted to be ready if he did call.

There is nothing worse than coming in the house to find a message on your answering machine that confirms you have missed the scarce and infrequent call from your “deployed to a war zone” child.  That only had to happen once for me to rethink the way I was going to handle the situation.  I couldn’t control much about the war, but I was certainly going to control the few and far between phone calls I received.

Prior to my son’s first deployment, my cell phone plan was strictly for emergencies.  I had a plan with a whopping 30 minutes a month. It was just enough to be able to call my husband if I had a flat tire.  Half the time I didn’t know where the phone was and it always seemed to have a low battery, not to mention the fact that I couldn’t remember the phone number because I simply never used it.

It didn’t take me long to realize that I was going to be forced to leave my house at some point during the deployment and I quickly realized that the cell phone was my ticket to freedom.  First I got a better phone, and a plan with plenty of minutes.  Then I found a way to keep that phone attached to me at all times.  I purchased a case with a clip which allowed me to keep that phone on my waist 24/7.

My son was instructed that he should always call my cell phone first, and I did mean MY cell phone.  Not his dad’s phone, or the home phone, but MY cell phone. I knew it was selfish to control the phone calls, but I was the one to give birth to the boy, after all. Labor pains buy privileges in a home where I am the only female.

The way I had things set up, the only time I could possibly miss a call was if I was singing too loudly in the shower and that wasn’t likely to happen.  I kept the phone on a little stand just a couple of inches outside the shower door during the only ten minutes of the day that I couldn’t keep it attached to my hip.

Phone calls came once or twice a month during the first deployment.  I wrote to him every day via Motomail, but I always seemed to have a running list in my head of the things I just had to tell him. Cute things about the dog or something funny one of his little brothers had said or done were always at the top of my list. When his call came in, I was always so excited to hear his voice that more times than not, my mind would go blank and I could never remember any the things I had to tell him until after the phone call had ended.

With our son being in a totally different world, not to mention a totally different time zone, many of his calls came in the middle of the night.  The last thing I did before turning out the light each night was make sure that I had my cell phoneAND the home phone right next to my bed.  In fact, I just pulled them right into the bed with me if it had been awhile since we had gotten a call.  I had the volume set to the loudest possible ring and the battery was always charged.

My son always seemed surprised to find we were asleep.  I could hear his voice pulling me from the cozy confines of my comatose state with his question, “Are you asleep? Oh, sorry.  I didn’t even think about what time it is at home.”  I would try really hard to wake myself up so I would be able to comprehend what he was saying.  Just about the time I woke up enough to actively participate in the conversation he was telling me he had to hop off the phone and get back to work. The next morning I sometimes wondered if I had dreamt the whole thing.

The thing that I found strangest about the phone calls during the first deployment was that they always made me cry when we hung up.  I would literally hold my breath for weeks at a time, waiting on the next phone call and then, in an instant, the call was over.  No matter how wonderful the call had been, I would find myself crying my eyes out.  It took me awhile to understand this reaction but I finally figured out that it was simply knowing that it would now be another long and uncertain amount of time awaiting the next call.  I needed something to look forward to, and for that moment, a phone call wasn’t in the near future.  The realization that I had no control over when the phone calls would take place was tough to handle. With very few phone booths or cell towers in the desert, I was left with no choice but to wait for my son to return from his latest mission outside the wire.

With each deployment, I learned to be a little less dependent on the phone calls.  I learned to share my son with others and in my mind, I relaxed my unwritten rules allowing others to receive his phone calls prior to his making one to me. I trained myself to be happy, not jealous, when he made a call to someone other than me, and I learned to let go just a little bit more than I had the time before.

It’s hard to break bad habits, but I’m taking baby steps and making progress. I sometimes allow my phone battery to wear down.  When I’m in the shower, I leave the phone on the counter, all the way across the bathroom so it’s out of my reach, and just the other day, I drove fifteen minutes from my house before I realized that I did not have my cell phone with me.  I immediately broke into a cold sweat.  That overwhelming feeling of panic set in and I nearly stopped breathing.  I started to scream, “WHERE IS MY CELL PHONE?” but then I remembered that my son wasn’t even deployed.  I reasoned with myself, and even though the car was already in position to take the u-turn, I forced myself to keep moving forward.

Originally posted by the author at comfycouchcommand.com

You ask how this is possible knowing I’ve never been deployed to war.  What you don’t know is that I live in the middle of one.

This war began almost three years ago and daily, I face new battles.  These battles have redefined my life and I don’t like it. Fortunately, I’ve got my faith, for without it, I don’t think I would still be standing.  There’s no one reaching out to help me.  Instead the experts argue over whether or not what I live with day to day really exists.

I’m a casualty of war, though no one will ever give me a Purple Heart for my injuries.  My wounds are the result of caring for and loving a child who stepped up to serve his country.  The percentage of those returning from war who are suffering with invisible wounds is staggering.  The numbers being reported are far lower than what I believe to be a true reality.  Thousands, just like me, suffer in silence, frustrated because our cries for help go unheard.

While I’m struggling to survive battle after battle, and looking for support, I find that most people out there are busy bickering over whether or not the problem the condition is real and if so, how it will be categorized.  Is it Secondary Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?  Is it Secondary Traumatic Stress Disorder (STSD)? Could it be Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)? Perhaps I’m just a hypochondriac looking for a good excuse to stay at home and bury my head under my pillow.

Frankly, I do NOT need a label or some sort of official diagnosis listed in the most current Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV TR) to know that there is something terribly wrong, which is a fortunate plus for me since Secondary PTSD is not a defined mental disorder.

Secondary PTSD occurs when a person has an indirect exposure to risk or trauma, resulting in many of the same symptoms as a full-blown diagnosis of PTSD.

Skip the reference to “indirect exposure”. I’ve lived with a direct exposure to risk and trauma for over two and a half years now, in an attempt to be a support to my son, a disabled combat veteran suffering with mild Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) and PTSD.

Ask any caregiver for our disabled veterans.  We are all in the direct line of fire, 24/7. When the system fails them, it is to us that they turn.  By the time they reach out to us, they are frustrated and filled with rage.  Who could blame them?  I’ve seen my son ignored, denied, judged, stamped with stigma, and cast aside….over and over and over.

Have you ever heard the expression, “Hurt people hurt people”?  You know it’s true.  When the system strikes another blow to our veterans who have so bravely given on our behalf, they lash out like wounded animals backed into a corner by the enemy.  As they strike a frightening pose and make a fierce sound, we, the caregivers, receive the brunt of this behavior.

My son doesn’t want to hurt me, but he lashes out because he has to let off steam. He knows that I will love him, unconditionally, no matter what he says or does.  The problem, however, is that he has been living in a combat zone with other Marines.  They talk about life in a way that is foreign to my ears.  This talk scares me to the core.  Does he mean what he’s saying?  Does he really want to die?  Will he really end his life if I say the wrong thing?  Oh, dear God! Help me!  What should I do? What should I say to make this go away?

I’m tired of walking around on egg shells.  Even when I do my best to tiptoe around the issues, I still manage to trip and fall and escalate the problem.  Everything else in my life seems to be falling apart too.  I can’t keep up with all of my other commitments because at any given moment, I’m suddenly forced into crisis mode and I can’t think straight enough to figure out which end is up and what I am supposed to be doing.  My to-do list continues to grow as I function in my elevated state, which in turn, escalates my stress level.  I constantly feel like I’m letting others down, and I feel as if I’m failing to do anything that can really make a positive difference in my son’s chaotic life.

Once a very organized person, I find that I am forgetful, I misplace things, and I feel like an absent-minded dingbat when I’m around my friends who all seem to have their ducks in row.  My mind is always somewhere else and that place is one filled with fear, anxiety, frustration, anger and worry.  One minute I’m trusting God and the next minute, I take the control right back as my mind runs wild with outlandish scenarios that could happen.

I’m tired of waiting for the next catastrophic event.  There was a time when I lived in fear of events conjured up in my mind taking place, but to my horror, some of my fears have come true and I’ve lived through some situations so scary that I am amazed I’m still breathing.  When your worst fears come to reality, it’s hard to keep from worrying that history will repeat itself.  We all know it does.

When the door rings, I panic.  When the phone rings, a feeling of dread comes over me.  I jump out of my skin when I hear a loud noise. I have trouble sleeping and when I do, I have nightmares.  I have a lot of anxiety whenever I’m around my son because he can become agitated without a moment’s notice. I have a lot of anxiety when I’m not around my son because I don’t know where he is and whether or not he is okay. I have even begun to worry about catastrophic things happening to my other children knowing that I couldn’t be strong enough to handle another trial that involved their lives.

I’ve been unable to relax for almost three years now so it’s no wonder I’ve finally reached the stage where I’m having full blown panic attacks.  I’ve heard about them before, but I never really understood them until I found myself in the middle of one of my own.

I wasn’t in a dangerous and unfamiliar setting but something triggered an involuntary response.  I do know what the trigger was, but that is another story for another day. One minute I was fine, and the next minute, I was overcome with panic.  I couldn’t breathe.  I felt as if I needed to cry or scream.  My heart was racing and I was completely paralyzed with fear. The nausea was consuming. There was nothing I could do to calm myself down.  I broke out in a sweat and felt the need to run for cover.  I was in no physical danger, but the feeling still came over me because something very subtle had just reminded me of a very horrible, life-threatening reality I had lived out several months ago.

A week later, the second panic attack came without notice. A different trigger caused a more violent reaction.  I was in an environment in which I had no control and I wanted to run from the crowd but I couldn’t.  I did my best to keep myself under control so that no one would know I was freaking out, but more than I was frightened by the panic attack itself, was the fear that this was a reoccurring situation for which I had no control.

I recently read an article about PTSD featuring a story about a National Guard soldier, Major Benjamin Tupper.  He made mention of the absurdity of him worrying about a Taliban ambush in his suburban neighborhood back here at home in the USA, but he said that an event or a sound or a smell will recall a moment at war and his ‘anxiety trumps logic’.

I now understand that concept from firsthand experience and a week after my second panic attack, I find that I’m really upset. Anxiety does trump logic and lately, the anxiety seems to be the driving force. I shouldn’t be living like this because the system isn’t set up to support our combat veterans. I’ve been begging for someone to help us but my cries continue to fall on deaf ears. Looking back seven years ago, when my bright eyed 17 year old enlisted to serve his country, we had no idea that the repeated deployments and injuries would seek to destroy his life as well as ours.  We are just one of the the thousands of families who gave our all and served on behalf of the USA.  One would think that the least America could do was take care of their own.

If you are suffering with symptoms of PTSD or STSD or Secondary PTSD, please don’t ignore the problem.  There are many of us who are working together to create support networks. There is always strength in numbers.  We must reach out and help one another move forward.

If you are a parent of someone who has been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress or a mild Traumatic Brain Injury, you may very likely find yourself in a difficult position and you probably don’t have much, if any, support.  As much as our wounded warrior needs help, we as parents need support as well.  Whether we like it or not, Post Traumatic Stress has just redefined and claimed our lives and we are going to need all the help we can get to enable us to be the strong support that our child needs to move forward to recovery.

The existing health care system for our military and our veterans is not set up to accomodate the overwhelming numbers of troops returning from multiple deployments with mental health issues.  The first ones to fall through the cracks are those who are unmarried.  With parents kept at arm’s length since day one of Boot Camp, the soldier is trained to keep Mom and Dad out of it.  This means that the unmarried combat veterans, making up 45 to 50% of our military, are basically “on their own” without an advocate.

Often, by the time the “next of kin” is aware that there is a problem, it’s too late to undo the damage that has already taken place. Many families are desperately trying to figure out how to help their child, but end up throwing their hands up in frustration because HIPAA laws bar them from accessing services which are readily given to spouses and children of those who are married.

If you’ve been walking down this path, know that you are not alone.  When I first found myself thrown onto the path, I was certain I was by myself.  Over two and half years later, I find that there are many others walking alongside me.  The support systems still aren’t available, but we do have one another.

We have all learned some valuable lessons about Post Traumatic Stress, but almost all of our lessons have been learned through adversity.  Basically, we have learned best from our mistakes and our parent’s resource handbook is made up of a long list of what “not” to do.

If you are the parent of a combat veteran who suffers with the Invisible Wounds of War we hope you will join us as we support one another and advocate for our adult children. As adults, they may think they don’t need us anymore, but the reality is that they need us more than ever before. It’s our responsibility to learn as much as we can so we can help them regain their lives.  No one else out there is ever going to advocate for your child as well as you can do it.  You know them best and you love them most.

Originally published at http://pactptsd.org

The moment your child is gone from your view, your mind will automatically run right to “Will I ever see him again?”  When your mind starts to run there, it’s amazing to see how quickly issues that were once considered of great importance suddenly have no significance. You no longer care that your son got a tattoo.  After all, it’s just a Marine thing!  You don’t even mind so much that he occasionally slips and says a new vocabulary word that might not be appropriate at church.  All of the things that you nagged him about for years, seem petty and ridiculous, and you realize that you are so incredibly proud of him for what he is willing to do for his country, that the negative memories melt away and your heart just wants to burst with pride and love.

When deployment turns our worlds upside down, one of the first things we parents have to learn, very quickly, is how to deal with the fear.  As mothers, we’ve been worrying about every move our kids have made since they were stirring in our wombs.  It’s not natural for a parent if they aren’t worried about their kids. Any mother who tells you she is not worried about her children in some way can’t possibly be telling the truth.

We all deal with the fear differently.  Many of us find that we even deal with it differently during each deployment.  I know for me, during the first deployment, I could not get enough of the news.  I had a news channel blaring on our television 24/7 and if I was not in range of a television, I found a radio to listen to, or I spent hours reading articles online.  I figured if I knew everything that was going on in that war zone, then I would be able to somehow take care of my son.  I didn’t give God much credit for being omnipresent because I thought I needed to know what was going on in the Middle East so I could pray specifically, giving God the vision He needed so He could do His job to keep my boy safe.  I may have been more in tune with what was going on in Iraq, but I must admit, looking back now, it was consuming and exhausting trying to manage the war from my living room.

I was a bit smarter during the second deployment.  I learned to let go a little bit more.  I acknowledged that the news gave me feelings of fear and dread, and I noticed that if I didn’t watch the news, I wasn’t as consumed with worry.  I found that it was better to keep busy and fill my time and my mind with other things.  I still watched the news sometimes, and I still worried all the time, but it was all at a more manageable level.  I was still telling God how to do His job, just in case He was busy with someone else’s world and didn’t have His full attention on the war zone which my son was inhabiting. I wasn’t quite ready to retire from my armchair general’s position.

During the third deployment, my son was sent to an undisclosed location.  I had no idea where he was located.  The only thing I did know was that he wasn’t in Iraq or Afghanistan.  With the news reports being filled with images of those two war zones, and no coverage of all the possible remote locations around the world where our troops are deployed, I didn’t know what to worry about.  I had no idea what type of picture to conjure up in my mind, so after awhile, I stopped trying to figure it out.  I still had some fear, but it was at a far lower level and it made things a lot easier for me. I found that I was giving God a lot more of the responsibility and I was taking a back seat to commanding all the battle plans.

Back in the days of the first deployment, I really thought I was trusting the Lord completely, but three deployments later, I finally realized that when I was the one in control, commanding the war from my cozy couch, it was far more difficult.  God knows better than anyone that I am a total control freak, and a slow learner, so He took me to a place where I had no control and showed me that it was better to trust Him and do it His way with Him in command.

If you are a parent and you are going through a deployment, whether it’s your first time, or you are now an old pro at watching your child leave the country, know that God is with your precious child. He already knows what is going to happen, and He has already given you what you need to make it through each day of this season in your life.  Worrying about your child is not going to change one thing so let go of the worry and let God take care of things.

For those of you who are doubters, I know you are thinking to yourself, “Well, her son came back okay.  What if my child doesn’t?”  My son did come home, but not without injuries that have drastically changed the course of his life.  We count ourselves blessed that he is living and breathing, but we won’t deny that we watch him face challenges every day as a disabled veteran.  He is our child, so we face challenges every day along with him.  Now I see that the deployments were just getting me ready for the rest of this life-long path, and I know God will give me what I need to make it through tomorrow because He is giving me what I need to get through today.

Click here for more from Marine Moms 

Originally published by the author at military-missions.org

Please note – the names have been changed to protect the guilty.

There is a local Lexington restaurant, which we will call “Swindler’s” that might have a few good meals on the menu, but I’d rather eat a lousy tasting meal in a place where integrity guides the business.  To think that a restaurant would take advantage of a small, local charity to get a few more customers in the door to make a few extra dollars is nothing short of criminal.  In fact, according to Kentucky Law – KRS 517.030, a crime has been committed. The law states that “a person is guilty of false advertising when, in connection with the promotion of the sale of or to increase the consumption of property or services, he knowingly makes or causes to be made a false or misleading statement in any advertisement addressed to the public or to a substantial number of persons.” False advertising is a Class A misdemeanor.

Recently Military Missions had the opportunity to participate in a so-called fundraiser with “Swindler’s” Restaurant.  We were very excited at the opportunity because we are a very small charity and we do not pay to advertise.  We rely solely on word-of-mouth advertising and utilize social networks such as Facebook and Twitter which can be used free of charge. We are a 100% volunteer based organization and we operate on a shoestring budget.

“Swindler’s” states on their website that they are pleased to offer their “Give Back Monday” program in which “one Monday of each month is dedicated to raising awareness of local charities in need.”  It is stated, “For guests who visit us on Give Back Mondays, ten percent of their dining bill will be donated to charity.”  It’s easy to get the process started. There is an online submittal form if your charity organization is interested in participating.

Our first correspondence with “Swindler’s” was via email through a marketing representative at a local agency.  The agency’s representative stated the following: “We could offer 10 percent of the dining bill per customer as a donation to your organization.”

A few days later we met with the marketing representative, as well as the owner of “Swindler’s” Restaurant.   We were told that “Swindler’s” would “give back” 10% of the dining bill per customer, as well as advertise and contact the local media to get the word out.    They even said they would put out a donation box and encourage customers to donate items which could be included in our care package mailings because they were so grateful for the sacrifice and service of our military families.  We agreed that we would also put the word out on our website, our social networks, and send an announcement to everyone on our email list.

We did our part, recruiting Military Missions supporters to come in and dine at “Swindler’s” on Give Back Monday.  Our volunteers set up the information table and we had representatives on hand should anyone want to inquire about our organization.  We were glad to see many of our supporters come in and dine at “Swindler’s” that day to show support for our organization and for our deployed troops.

Unfortunately, as the day dragged on, we began to realize that we had been duped.  “Swindler’s” never did much advertising for the event.  They put the word out on their blog and they put the word out on their Facebook page beginning a couple of days prior to the event, but that was about the extent of it.  Apparently, they were counting on Military Missions to get the word out about the event.

When we arrived at the restaurant on the morning of the event, only one employee seemed to even know why we were there.  He was very apologetic that things were so disorganized. The owner and marketing rep were nowhere to be found.  We set up our information table and awkwardly sat down wondering what was actually expected of us.  Looking around at the tables we saw flyers for St. Patrick’s Day which had come and gone, and realized that the word of mouth advertising we had done was far more reaching than anything done by the restaurant.

As the day went on, “Swindler’s” never did put out a donation box, and it is my belief that very few people dining that day knew about the “event” unless they happened to read the sign on their way in the door.  We spent a very long day sitting in the restaurant and never had one person come by to ask us about our organization as our information table went by unnoticed.

We dined at “Swindler’s” for lunch and for dinner, spending a total of $125.00 for the two meals.  We also left a 20% tip as a gesture of our appreciation for what we had hoped was going to be a generous act on the part of “Swindler’s” Restaurant.

Late in the evening, we finally cleaned up our information table and headed home.  While it was apparent the event had not helped us to get the word out about our organization, we figured that the donation of 10% of the dining proceeds would be a help in paying for postage costs for the next care package mailing.

After about two weeks and no contact from “Swindler’s”, one of our organization’s representatives contacted “Swindler’s” to find out when we might receive our check for 10% of the dining tabs taken in on Give Back Monday.  At first our calls were not returned, but we did finally make contact with the owner.  He said we could stop by and pick up the check.

There is no way to describe the complete and total shock we felt when we realized that the check we had been issued by “Swindler’s” was for $71.61.  Yes, SEVENTY ONE DOLLARS AND SIXTY ONE CENTS!!  We figured that there must be some sort of mistake, but when we asked the restaurant owner, he simply responded, “We said we were giving you 10% of the profits above what we normally make on an average Monday of business.”  No further explanation was given.

Doing the math, apparently we are getting credit for bringing in $716.10 worth of additional business that day.  I have to wonder if we might have brought in far more than that considering that I personally spent $125 on food as well as giving another $25 for the tip that day in his restaurant.  I’m aware of quite a few people who dined at “Swindler’s” that day to benefit Miltary Missions.  Frankly, I’m almost certain that the people who came in that day on our behalf would have far preferred to donate the money spent on their meal to our organization.  They could have eaten a peanut butter sandwich at home, and donated money spent for their “Swindler’s” meal to help offset postage costs needed to send packages to our deployed troops, all the while getting a tax deduction.

What kind of “giving back” is being done by the owner of “Swindler’s” Restaurant, if he is conning charities to bring him more business than he would normally have on a slow Monday?

We didn’t get anything in writing when we made the arrangements to participate in “Swindler’s” Give Back Monday because we assumed that the restaurant would live up to what they offered in the initial email, what was stated verbally at our meeting, what was stated on the sign at their front door and the statements that still exist on their website as this is being written.  We have worked with other restaurants in the past and the generosity extended to us was overwhelming.  Maybe I’m just naive, but my mind simply doesn’t work that way.  It would never occur to me that anyone would try to make a buck off our little nonprofit and that I would have to demand to have something in writing to get the promised 10%.

Even more criminal than violating KRS 517.030 is simply the fact that men and women are serving overseas, in harm’s way, so that Americans like “Swindler’s” owner can live in a free country and stick it to the little nonprofits of the land. This man obviously takes the freedoms he has been given here in the good old USA very lightly.  He wasn’t the least bit interested in “giving back” to the troops who are currently standing in harm’s way so he can run his own business in a free nation.  He could care less that thousands of troops give their lives, or return home injured, just so he can open his restaurant doors every day.

As we sat in “Swindler’s” Restaurant on Give Back Monday, Cpl Brandon S. Hocking, 24, of Seattle, Wash., died in As Samawah, Iraq, when enemy forces attacked his unit with an improvised explosive device.  Cpl Hocking gave his life that day, so people like “Swindler’s” owner can continue to live the American Dream at someone else’s expense.

Names and documentation of proof can be provided on a “need to know” basis.  If you need to know, just ask.  If you want to make sure that no one else gets duped, and you want to show some REAL respect and gratitude for our troops standing in harm’s way, please pass this along to everyone you know.  Let’s get rid of counterfeit patriots.

Said Mrs. Obama, “So we want to ask the rest of the nation to look at this. This is a fun way to give back. And we did this at the White House. We brought you guys White House onesies and blankets. We took up a drive. We had boxes all over the West Wing and the East Wing. People wrote checks. We brought – I mean, this was fun. And any business, any community, any school can do this for a military family, for an expectant mom. All you have to do is find them. And all you all have to do is ask and reach out.”

A minimum of $40,000 was handed out in gifts.  With a struggling economy, is that the best use of that amount of money? I would think that the costs of providing a security detail was much higher. A week prior to the baby shower numerous agencies were busy working on the project. The Secret Service, NCIS, Coast Guard, USMC, State Highway Patrol, and local law enforcement in Onslow County, NC, as well as Wilmington, NC were involved.  Every time Michelle feels motivated to “give” how much does she tap into the Federal Budget?

Thousands of Marines are based at Camp Lejeune.  How many of their wives are pregnant?  Are there only forty women at Camp Lejeune currently carrying a child?  If not, how did these forty women get chosen? Do the expectant moms married to the Navy, Army, Air Force, and Coast Guard get the same treatment?  What about the “Marine Moms To Be” living aboard Camp Pendleton?  It’s our job to “find them” so let’s all head to the nearest Commissary and look for protruding bellies.

What about the follow up?  How much comfort will a White House Onsie bring to the military mom who gives birth to her baby while her husband is deployed?  Is anyone going to reach out and help her then?

To quote the words of our President, “Let me be clear.”  I am not knocking the efforts of Operation Shower.  My hat is off to all who work hard for that organization to make a difference in the lives of our military families.  I am glad to hear that our First and Second ladies are generating awareness and support for our military families, but I have to wonder if this is really the best way to make a real difference in the lives of those who serve this nation.  Michelle and Jill have been traveling around the country for a year “raising awareness” for the sacrifice being made by our military families.  They claim they’ve gotten to know our families and their eyes have been opened to the struggles being faced.  Apparently, when asked what is needed most, our military families have pointed out the value of onesies and scrapbooking supplies.

How much money has been spent for the travel, the meetings, the pep rallies, and the subliminal campaign ads so Michelle could host a fancy baby shower and then hand the rest off to us without any guidance or suggestions that would really change lives?  I don’t have the answer but I’d like to ask our military families what they think.  It seems appropriate for the Lifetime television network to host a baby shower or two for the fans of their hit show Army Wives, but is it really the job we expect from our government?

When I find the answers, I’ll be sure to preserve the memories in my Martha Stewart scrapbook.

Originally published  by the author on fellednot.com

Though some lawmakers have pledged to return their paychecks to the Treasury Department should there be a government shutdown, not all representatives are on the same page.  Rep. Linda Sanchez (D-Calif), who happens to be one of the ranking members on the House ETHICS Committee, told MSNBC that she is simply not willing to forgo her salary.  She has financial obligations which include student loans, care for her two year old son (the kid with the silver spoon in his mouth), and she has to make payments on more than one home.

The irony in this situation is simply too much, and yet it paints a perfect picture of what is wrong with this country.

Here we have a lawmaker who promised, when elected, to represent her constituents.  She has been given the responsibility to sit on a committee which must deal with values relating to the rightness and wrongness of certain actions, and yet she can’t see what might be wrong with her continuing to receive her salary, simply for being stubborn, while our military members must forego their paychecks.

Sanchez is worried about making TWO house payments and caring for just one child.  Most of our service members can’t even afford to buy ONE home and many of them have several mouths to feed.

Is Sanchez saying that she simply can’t make it a couple of weeks without her $174K salary?  I would suggest that Representative Sanchez get rid of her second home.  After all, President Obama callously told a father of ten children earlier this week that if he was going to complain about gas prices, he should trade in his SUV for a hybrid van as if this transaction could be easily handled at the Wal-Mart return counter.  Seems like a no-brainer that Sanchez can only live in one house at a time, so someone help her put up the For Sale sign!

Our deployed troops have enough to worry about just trying to stay alive.  They don’t need to be worried about whether or not their families back home will have food on the table next week.

I’ve heard all sorts of comments suggesting that if our miilitary families were being thrifty enough, they would have money set aside in case of an unforeseen emergency such as a government shutdown.  I am sure that most of our military families would have plenty of money set back if they were all making $174K a year!  If Rep. Sanchez can’t afford to miss a paycheck, how does she think anyone else can afford to miss one?

While our lawmakers, (you know those true “servants” representing WE THE PEOPLE)are making budget cuts, the first place they can save money is by cutting their own salaries.  I suggest that we pay the lawmakers at the same rate we pay our enlisted troops.  Anyone in Washington who is not willing to work for the same pay rate as our troops needs to step down and let someone else step up.

Benjamin Franklin suggested, during the Constitutional Convention, that elected government officials not be paid for their service. I think he was onto something.  If you are going to pay someone $174K a year, pay those who stand in harm’s way, halfway across the globe. Let’s put the value on the jobs with the actual risk and the actual sacrifice.

Service members, on their initial assignment at the enlisted level of E-1 receive $1,1467.60 each month or $17,611.20 a year.  For those who earned a college degree before beginning their military career, service members who begin their assignment at the rank of O-1 earn $2,784.00 each month or $33,408 annually. (http://www.dfas.mil/militarypay/militarypaytables/2011MilitaryPayTable1-4.pdf)

Freshmen lawmakers make $174,000 a year.   (http://www.legistorm.com/)

Originally published by the author at fellednot.com

Rumor has it that those who serve in our military will continue to work if the government shuts down at 12:01 a.m. on Friday, but they won’t be paid.  Apparently all “nonessential” government employees will be sent home until Congress passes the budget for the remainder of fiscal year 2011.

So, are the jobs which our military personnel perform essential or nonessential?  If the troops aren’t going to get paid, I will translate that as “nonessential” work.

If military jobs are considered “nonessential”, and our deployed troops are not going to get paid, doesn’t that mean we need to bring them home now?

There is only one answer to that question and I don’t think I need to spell it out for you.

There was a time when I bought into the idea that the good old USA was the strongest nation in the world.  I bought into the idea that, as the mightiest force, we could go into other countries to eliminate the bad guys and bring peace and good will to mankind.

I bought into the package with pride when my 17 year old son joined the United States Marine Corps and went on to serve three combat tours.  I held my head high because my son was willing to sacrifice his life for the rest of us.  I was proud to be a part of the nation that eliminated evil and restored the poor and less fortunate.

But that was a long time ago.

Now I sit amidst the cold, hard truth where many of my friends have buried their sons and daughters.  Thousands of our troops have made the ultimate sacrifice and left their families with a gaping hole that can never be filled.

The number of wounded is at least ten times higher, and our hospitals are filled with many who will live a drastically different quality of life because they willingly signed up to serve our nation.

Tens of thousands more suffer with traumatic brain injuries and post-traumatic stress disorder.    Do you have even the slightest idea what it is like for these poor souls and their family members to make it through each day?  And what about the hundreds of families who wake up to the fact that their warrior committed suicide because it was the only way to escape the reality of life after combat?

Have you heard about the difficulties our veterans have when it comes to getting health care?  There are simply not enough employees at the VA to handle the number of disabled veterans who need care.

Have you heard about the epidemic of homelessness amongst our veterans?

Take a look around you.  The magnitude of these problems is being caused by work that is now considered “nonessential”.  I don’t know how you feel about it, but I’m angry.  I can’t bear to think of all the families down on their knees right now begging God to bring their soldier home safely from a deployment which is “nonessential”.

I can’t bear to think of the lives lost to another “nonessential” war on more “nonessential” soil.

I can’t bear to think of the families that are falling apart because their veteran has returned from “nonessential” combat shattered physically and mentally.

It’s time for us to take care of what IS essential.  You can find all that is vital right here in our own backyards.  We need to take care of our own and let everybody else take care of their own.  We don’t need to spend $8 billion a day, and sacrifice a generation of families, for “nonessential” and ungrateful people who will never change their ways.

I don’t care why we first entered into any of this.  I don’t care who is at fault.  I could care less about weapons of mass destruction and whether or not they ever existed. The past is gone and there is nothing we can do to change it.  I’m tired of everyone pointing fingers of blame and doing nothing to make a difference for our future which is right before us.

To each of you whom we have elected to represent us, you need to listen to WE THE PEOPLE!

Bring our troops home now so they can do work that is essential.  They need to be here protecting US, not over there protecting the other guys.  For anyone who votes to keep these wars going, you need to be willing to pay the same price that many of us have already paid.

I have given one son.  What have you given?

Originally published on fellednot.com 

March 28, 2011 ~

‘Twas the night before Madness and all through the land,
Not a team left unshaken by Jorts and his band.
The posters were plastered on locker room walls,
In hopes that a meeting would not soon be called.

When down there in Tampa arose such a fuss
The whole team from Princeton was sent to the bus!
Then several days later as if right on cue,
The Cats sent ‘em packin, those Mountaineers too!

Then Cal skipped his way to the New Jersey shore,
For a meeting they said was the Cats final door.
But Jorts had a plan as he threw the ball in,
And it bounced off a chest and the Bucs couldn’t win.

Living large were the Cats’ Mr. Knight and his crew,
Then came the Tar Heels with Houston in view.
“Take Three” from the corner said ‘Dre as he shot,
And then Carolina knew Houston was not.

Now Final Four Dancing, it has been a while,
But Cats and their fans, it don’t matter the miles.
Be looking for Kemba, his Conn artists’ too,
The Cats will be bringing’ its defense for you.

On Brandon, on Lamb, and on Jonesy too,
Got Miller and Jorts, and they’re bringing the crew.
Now Liggins and Vargas then go to “The Hood”
The seeding they gave us was much less than good!

So see you in Houston no Mr. Calhoun,
And practice real hard cause it’s comin too soon.
The team you will dance with, they just woke up late,
But they’ll have ‘em laced up, they want Number 8!

Originally posted at my blog page on open.salon.com

Thousands of troops would be eligible to receive the Purple Heart if the criteria is changed to include those who have suffered concussions and head injuries.

The Marine Corps Times is interested in finding out if anyone is concerned that this change could “water-down the award’s significance.”

The Purple Heart is awarded in the name of the President of the United States to any member of an Armed Force or any civilian national of the United States who, while serving under competent authority in any capacity with one of the U.S. Armed Services after 5 April 1917, has been wounded or killed, or who has died or may hereafter die after being wounded-

• (1) In any action against an enemy of the United States.
  (2) In any action with an opposing armed force of a foreign country in which the Armed Forces of the United States are or have been engaged.
  (3) While serving with friendly foreign forces engaged in an armed conflict against an opposing armed force in which the United States is not a belligerent party.
  (4) As a result of an act of any such enemy of opposing armed forces.
  (5) As the result of an act of any hostile foreign force
  (6) After 28 March 1973, as a result of an international terrorist attack against the United States or a foreign nation friendly to the United States, recognized as such an attack by the Secretary of the Army, or jointly by the Secretaries of the separate armed services concerned if persons from more than one service are wounded in the attack.
  (7) After 28 March 1973, as a result of military operations while serving outside the territory of the United States as part of a peacekeeping force.

It’s my opinion that anyone who would feel concern that this change would “water-down” the significance of the Purple Heart would be one who has no clue what type of impact a mild TBI can have on the life of the one who has sustained the injury.

Ask any disabled combat veteran, or his family members, if the traumatic brain injury he sustained during combat on behalf of the United States should be deemed eligible.  The answer to that question, my friends, is a no-brainer!

The Marine Corps Times is looking for opinions.  If you would like to give them yours, you can follow the link in this article.

For more information about the effects of TBI on our troops and their families, click here and read here.

Originally published by the author on fellednot.com.

Apparently, officials from all four services will be meeting this week with Dr. Clifford Stanley, undersecretary of defense for personnel and readiness, to discuss the recommended changes which would allow soldiers who have received concussions in combat related situations to be awarded the Purple Heart.

It is my opinion that this should have been the case from the start.  Since the war began, at least 202,000 of our troops have gone into harm’s way and suffered a combat injury that has lead to a diagnosis of Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI).  Many of these troops have become disabled and have been medically retired from the military only to find that their brain injury does not warrant a Purple Heart.

If we can’t see it, then it must not exist.  A flesh wound, no matter how small, is respected, acknowledged, appreciated, and decorated.  An invisible wound is ignored, misunderstood, and most certainly stigmatized.

For those who live with TBI, the symptoms can be as subtle as memory loss, mood swings, depression, paranoia, loss of balance and impairment of reasoning skills.  Most of us would just find it easier to make a judgment rather than to try and understand an unusual behavior which we might suddenly see in our combat veteran.  We feel uncomfortable and find it easier to assume that our combat veteran simply has a bad attitude or some “issues” and we walk away without the slightest bit of consideration for what it might be like to be the one with the TBI.  It never occurs to us that this individual is suffering from life altering wounds.

Imagine yourself as a highly decorated special operator who is risking your life on a daily basis when you suddenly find yourself a little bit forgetful. You seem to be losing your balance at the most inopportune times, and you are experiencing incapacitating headaches that come out of nowhere and render you helpless.  All of this comes on slowly.  It’s been quite awhile since that IED blew you out of your truck and knocked you for a loop.  You try your best to stay focused and get your job done. You don’t dare tell anyone because you will be taken off your team, but at some point, the symptoms get in the way and you must step away from the job which defines you as a person.  No one understands what is going on, least of all you.

After months of medical testing, and a lot of judgments by those who don’t understand, the doctors finally determine that you have a mild traumatic brain injury and you are sent home, a disabled veteran.  You are finished and you haven’t even reached the age of 25.  Now you can’t work because you have to spend three days a week at the VA with all the appointments deemed necessary to help you treat your brain injury and you never know when the blinding headache will come and dictate the rest of your day.  You start to understand why so many veterans are depressed, unemployed, and homeless.

This picture I have painted is more common than not.  I’m glad that military leadership has finally realized, that in addition to providing better health care for our combat-injured troops suffering with mild traumatic brain injuries, these men and women also deserve to be Purple Heart recipients.

It was stated in the article,  Mild brain injury could soon rate Purple Heart, by Andrew deGrandpre and Richard Sandza of the Marine Corps Times, that “it’s not immediately clear whether any new guidelines would allow for Purple Hearts to be awarded retroactively.”

I can promise Dr. Clifford Stanley, Gen. Peter Chiarelli, Gen. Jim Amos, and the other decision makers, that it would be wise for them to award the Purple Heart to any and all who have been diagnosed with a traumatic brain injury.  It is by medical test results that these brain injuries are diagnosed.  There is no reason to believe anyone is “faking” their symptoms.  If valid documentation can take your job and label you a disabled veteran then that same documentation can validate the recognition of a Purple Heart.

There is an army of family members out here who are ready to stand up and make sure that our disabled veterans get the recognition they deserve for their sacrifices made for this country.  It doesn’t matter which year the injury occurred or on which nation’s soil it was sustained.  Our brave troops stood willing give all for me and for you.  The ultimate sacrifice is not the only sacrifice being made.  The least we can do is give our disabled veterans suffering with traumatic brain injury the recognition they deserve.

This decision must include all veterans diagnosed with traumatic brain injury and the Purple Hearts must be award retroactively.  It’s time to replace the stigma with honor and respect.

For more information on the Purple Heart criteria, please visit http://www.americal.org/awards/ph.htm.

Originally published by author at fellednot.com 

A Google search for “Charlie Sheen” just gave me 534,000,000 results.  I imagine that in the past five minutes, that number has grown.  Sheen, the highest paid actor on television, has 422,345 followers on his Facebook page.  Since March 1, he has acquired 2,258,167 followers on Twitter and he’s only given out 71 tweets, most of which are about himself and….duh, WINNING!

Sheen broke the Guinness World Record for the person to reach 1 million Twitter followers the fastest, and it has now been revealed that his purpose is simply to score a fortune through advertising now that his paychecks from CBS may be a thing of his past. Apparently, there are enough of us out there who are interested in what Sheen is doing and he has discovered he can get the same $10,000 per tweet reportedly paid to Kim Kardashian for her priceless words of wisdom.

On March 3, 2011 the top 10 YouTube videos of all time included two videos by Justin Bieber, 2 videos by Eminem, Lady Gaga-Bad Romance, Charlie bit my finger-again!, and the “Official Music Video – Miley Cyrus – Party in the USA.”  You can watch Miley dance in front of an enormous American flag while she wails about partying in the USA.  I’m not sure if Miley wanted to grab the “patriotic” crowd with her hit, but I can assure her it’s not working with this Marine mom.  I realize that our troops are fighting for our freedom, but watching her dance half naked in front of the flag just doesn’t seem worth the sacrifice which has been made by thousands of American families since 9/11.

We’ve got to stop enabling the Charlie Sheens and Lindsey Lohans of this world.  We support their habits every time we tune in to watch their latest brush with the law.  NBC’sToday Show is just one of the major news empires which has empowered Sheen to continue his manic and delusional behaviors.

What would Sheen do if no one followed him on Twitter?  What if media outlets stopped granting him interviews? What if, instead of reporting the Hollywood gossip, the media informed us about the heroic lives of SSG Mark Wells, CPL Jordan R. Stanton, SPC Jason M. Weaver, Sr. Airman Nicholas J. Alden, SSG Chauncy R. Mays, SPC Christopher G. Stark, SPC Brian Tabada, SPC David R. Fahey, or SGT Kristopher J. Gould?  Since March 1, the Department of Defense has listed these nine men as having made the ultimate sacrifice so Charlie Sheen could continue to exercise his right to freedom of speech to tell us all about …… duh….WINNING!

I don’t know any of these brave men who recently died so I could live, but I know a few good men just like these brave heroes who have made the ultimate sacrifice in this 10 year war, and I have the privilege and honor of knowing their incredible families who must find a way to go on without them. There is no doubt in my mind that each of the men just mentioned above has a story and a very full life.  How do I know?  Because they died fighting the same cause as the following great men.

LCPL Sean M. Langley died from injuries received as a result of enemy action in Al Anbar province, Iraq.  He was assigned to 2nd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, I Marine Expeditionary Force.  He died on November 7, 2004.  I never knew Sean, but I remember his funeral.  I felt compelled to go because my own son was just beginning his service in the USMC. I couldn’t imagine what it must be like for his family to endure such a loss.  Just over six years later, I find myself in a friendship with Sean’s mother, Tricia.  She is a true woman of grace, integrity, and wisdom.  She has shared of the difficult path she walked in the first years after Sean’s death and she is quick to respond to the needs of others who find themselves suffering a similar loss.  Just as her son gave his life for all of us, she continues to support our veterans and support those who need her tender caring mercies to get through the days ahead.

LCPL Chase Johnson Comley made the ultimate sacrifice while serving our nation on August 6, 2005.  He was 21 years old. Chase served in Iraq with 2nd Platoon, Bravo Company, 2nd Assault Amphibian Battalion, 2nd Marine Division.  This photo was taken on that very day.  I’m not sure how his mom, Cathy, ended up with this photo, but when she shared it with me, she said it was nice to know that he was in a good mood on the day he was killed.  Everyone who knew Chase will tell you that he was always smiling and always a whole lot of fun.

Chase’s legacy lives on.  A few of his Marine buddies participate in the Red Sox Run to Home Base fundraiser each year.  Their efforts support the Home Base Program which helps veterans and families who have been impacted by the invisible wounds of war.  You can support Team Chase  for the 2011 event which takes place in May. Chase was a baseball fan, having been to Fenway Park himself at the age of 7, so this is a fitting way to honor Chase’s life.  I know Chase was a good athlete because he was the pitcher on my son’s Little League team back in 1996.  I can still remember screaming from the stands for Chase to strike those other guys out!

Fast forward nine years to 2005.  Chase was serving with his unit out at FOB Smitty in Iraq.  My son’s unit is right there too.  FOB Smitty was small and everyone knew each other. Everyone took Chase’s death hard, and though my son had the privilege of being present for Chase’s Final Roll Call, I know he will always remember that moment with mixed emotions.  It was the first of many losses that would hit close to home for these Marines.

It’s hard to believe that it’s been more than 5 years since Chase gave his life for us.  In the time that has passed, I’ve had the honor and privilege to come to know Chase’s mom and call her friend.  She is an amazing woman of strength.  Chase would be very proud of her determination to move forward with humility and grace. Though it must be difficult, she still supports our troops, and encourages those who still have family members serving.  We are so thankful that LCpl Chase Comley was willing to serve and sacrifice his life for all of us.  We are also grateful for the grace with which his mother lives each day.  She raised a son who was willing to lay down his life for his country.  She, herself, has made a pretty big sacrifice for all of us, too.  It won’t surprise you to know that Chase’s brother, Clinton, is also supportive of our troops who are deployed.  He sent a great big package to my Marine and his unit, and just recently, he was instrumental in getting a group of students to donate to our nonprofit organization, Military Missions Inc.(LINK)  He wanted to make sure that the troops currently deployed were getting the same support that his brother appreciated while he was serving in Iraq.

CPL Joshua Charles Watkins made the ultimate sacrifice, during his second deployment, on October 21, 2006.  Josh served in 2nd Tank Battalion, Tow Platoon, 2nd Marine Division.  Josh and his team stepped in to work with their new replacements for one last mission.  Most of the unit had already completed their last mission of the deployment and were packing to head home to the USA.  Josh and his team were met with sniper fire in the last hour of the last mission of the deployment.  Josh was hit and died and few hours later.

Prior to enlisting in the USMC, Josh completed three years of college at the University of North Florida.  He felt compelled to stop his education for a brief time, so that he could serve at a time when he felt he was needed. He loved the Marine Corps, his family and his country.  An only child, Josh truly believed he was fighting over there so that his mother and others could be safe over here.  He felt that fighting terrorism in Iraq would prevent having to fight it here.  In December 2006, Josh’s mother and uncle, Amy Vazquez and David Tillis, established the Marine Corporal Joshua C. Watkins Memorial Endowed Scholarship Fund at the University of North Florida to honor Joshua’s sacrifice and aid returning veterans in continuing their education, as Josh had planned to do.

LCpl Thomas P. Echols was 20 years old when he was killed during his second tour of duty with the 1st Battalion, 6th Marine Regiment.  On December 4, 2006, Tom left behind a beautiful young wife, Allyson, and an unborn daughter, Julia. While standing post, Tom was shot by a sniper and killed instantly. Tom was many different things to many different people. He was a loving husband, expectant father, battle buddy, son, brother, and friend. Along with a little girl who never met her daddy, the world lost a great man on that day.  I had the privilege of delivering a condolence book to his young wife just a few weeks before his beautiful daughter, Julia, was born.  I’ll never forget meeting Ally and the grace she extended to me as I awkwardly delivered the book.  Ally continues to impress upon her young daughter the memory of her father and his unselfish sacrifice made for each of us.

SGT Joshua J. Frazier  was killed by a sniper on Feb. 6, 2007, just a few days after being promoted. Josh was serving his third combat tour in Iraq, with 1st Battalion 6th Marine Regiment. He was so sure about what he was doing that he changed units so he could go back soon after his previous deployment. As well, Josh extended his stay in the USMC so he could help fellow Marines by allowing other service members to come back home. He felt like the guys who were married with kids needed to be home with their families. Josh was a true hero who put everyone else before himself.

The Some Gave All Foundation http://www.somegaveall.org/  was established in 2007 in memory of Marine Sgt. Joshua James Frazier and another hero, Army Sgt. Nicholas Conan Mason of Virginia, who also died while serving in Iraq.  The families of these two heroes wanted to do something positive to honor their lives and continue their legacy of service.

The foundation honors all who have been wounded or killed in service to their country. 2011 will mark the foundation’s fifth year to host the annual Some Gave All Motorcycle Rally which fosters awareness and ensures that America’s younger generations will know of their sacrifices and how these heroes lived their lives prior to making the ultimate sacrifice.  Funds raised assist wounded OIF/OEF veterans and provide educational scholarships in the names of these heroes.

I had the privilege of making a condolence book for the Frazier family.  There is no way a book of this type can be created without the maker coming to know the subject in a personal way. Not only will I cherish the opportunity given for me to get to know Sgt. Frazier, as well, I will always cherish the touching communications with his family that followed. It is no surprise to me that the Fraziers work diligently to honor the service and sacrifice of Sgt. Frazier as they serve and sacrifice themselves.

 LCPL Robert A. Lynch served in the Marine Corps for 14 months before he made the ultimate sacrifice in Rushidiyah, Iraq on July 24, 2007.   He was serving with the 1st Battalion, 12th Marine Regiment, 3rd Marine Division.  It is said that Robbie could be a bit of a jokester, but he also had a serious side, and would be the first to jump in and stand shoulder to shoulder with anyone.  Robbie was only 20 years old.  I attended his funeral and had the privilege of presenting his parents with their Gold Star Banner.  It was heart wrenching to hand the banner to his mother, and even more heart wrenching to listen to her sobs when she received her flag which had covered LCPL Lynch’s casket.  Robbie was a member of a large family and was a member of the ROTC at his high school. He left many behind who will always miss him, but he died doing what he considered to be his duty.

SSG Nicholas Carnes, SSG Delmar White, and PFC Sammie Phillips all made the ultimate sacrifice within a period of two and a half weeks.  All three men served with the Kentucky National Guard.  Carnes died on August 26, 2007, during a fire fight in Afghanistan.  White died September 1, 2007 when a roadside bomb exploded while escorting a convoy in Iraq. Phillips also died in Iraq from injuries sustained in a vehicle rollover on September 10, 2007.

I presented the Gold Star Banner to the family of PFC Phillips, and attended the funeral of SSG Carnes.  I will never forget the pain I saw in the faces of these families on what had to be the worst days of their lives.  I have the privilege of knowing SSG White’s family.  Though they lost their hero, Michelle White and her children are faithful patriots.  They continue to support our troops in many ways, even going as far as to join our organization, Military MIssions Inc, in the July 4th parade one year.  Through the death of her husband, Michelle White has been given a voice which she uses to convey the message we all need to hear.  Support our troops!

Capt Eric Daniel Terhune was born a Marine.  Born in the Naval Hospital, Quantico, Virginia, while his father was on active duty, Eric would later follow in the footsteps of his father and his grandfather and serve in the United States Marine Corps.  He entered the Marine Corps as a Private. After his enlistment, he earned a college degree and then continued to serve his country as an officer. When he was killed on June 19, 2008, Captain Terhune was serving with the 2nd Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division in Afghanistan. Though I never met Capt. Terhune, it is easy to know what an incredible hero he was for all of us.  I had the privilege of meeting his grandparents who had an amazing way of encouraging each of us in the visitation line as we came through to pay our respects. A few weeks after the funeral I received a lovely letter from Joy and Daniel Terhune with a donation to support our nonprofit’s efforts to continue sending care packages to deployed troops.  Incredible to think that despite their grief and loss they remembered meeting me, remembered I ran a nonprofit, and wanted to continue to make a difference despite their devastating loss.

Though overwhelming sadness has brought each of these heroes and their families into my life, there is a quiet strength and beauty about each of these stories.  Sadness defined here is far different from the sadness that is defined by the actions of actor Charlie Sheen and the millions who seem more fascinated by following his life rather than taking the time to learn about great men such as I have introduced here.  There is something to be said for families who experience the ultimate loss and yet they continue to give back to the rest of us. It is my suggestion that you stop following Charlie’s self-centered tweets and get to know those who are serving in harm’s way for you and me.  While you’re at it, get to know the incredible families who are supporting them.  That’s the way to find yourself…..duh….WINNING!

Originally published by the author on open.salon.com

All I can ask is “Why not?”

Why aren’t these mental health providers finishing their job at the end of the day?  I’m sure they are overworked and understaffed, but I doubt our troops are working easy 9:00 to 5:00 shifts with an hour for lunch every day.  Seems to me that if one is hired to go overseas and provide mental health care for troops who are on the front lines, they should understand the significance of their assignment.  They are not handing out candy to babies.  They are dispensing psychotropic medications to people who carry deadly weapons 24/7 because their lives are in danger every minute of every day.  (I have to question the sanity in this concept but that argument will be saved for another blog post on another day.)

I’m as guilty as the rest for procrastinating.  I can be found guilty of avoiding the laundry pile for a few days and I’ve been known to find cause to buy one of those “belated birthday” cards sitting on store shelves,  but when it comes to something really important, something like recording medical records, I’m not sure choosing to procrastinate is an option.

This isn’t even about one doctor who never does his paperwork.  This is about an entire system of health care providers who are not documenting their treatment for our troops standing in harm’s way.  This is about thousands of paper records not being entered into AHLTA-T.

According to Brewin, the internal message originating from the Army’s Office of the Surgeon General directs that “all ‘loose’ paper records be collected, collated and identified by patient name and Social Security number.  Any that cannot be positively identified ‘will be destroyed,’ the message said.”

I see more than one problem here.  For starters it seems like a violation of privacy to leave records lying around with patient names and Social Security numbers.  Why are these documents “loose” and not filed away properly? And what about the records that will be destroyed because they couldn’t be positively identified?  What happens to the soldier who has no records of his treatment when he returns to the states?  What if it is found that certain medications cause a negative reaction for a soldier?  How will the next mental health provider know NOT to prescribe that same drug to the same patient?

With the high incidence of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and mild Traumatic Brain Injury, and the number of suicides taking place amongst our military and veteran populations, it seems to me that these records could mean the difference between life and death.

I personally know two families who have lost a Marine to suicide. Both Marines were diagnosed with PTSD.  I also know two families who had their sons return home from deployment only to find that they died in their sleep because they took prescribed medications to help them rest. I know another family who fought to get the attention of military doctors because they knew that prescribed medications were destroying their soldier.  Once the soldier was discharged from the military, he was soon back in the same desperate situation because the VA prescribed the very same medications which had already been proven to cause significant, even life threatening, problems for the soldier.

How could this happen you ask?  One reason might be that the DoD and the VA are not sharing medical information as they are required to do.

Back on October 30, 2008, Dr. Steven L. Jones, principal deputy assistant secretary of defense for health affairs stated that one of the chief goals of DoD-VA interoperability efforts is to supply computerized health data so providers in both departments “will have the necessary health information background to be able to provide better quality care.”

In the case of the soldier previously mentioned, he was given prescriptions which nearly resulted in death.  When the family inquired as to why their soldier was prescribed these drugs when it was known that his medical records stated that he should not take said medications, the VA stated that they had no records on the soldier from the DoD.  Why not?  Who couldn’t stay at work long enough to enter the documentation into the electronic system?

How does a medically retired disabled veteran arrive at the VA for medical services without the medical documentation to prove he receives benefits?  He should arrive with the record in hand if these two systems can’t press the “send” button and use our modern day computer system and electronic mail to get the job done.

According to Brewin’s article, “a spokesman for the Military Health System said it is a matter of clinical practice, not policy, to record mental health encounters…” Apparently, the undersecretary of Defense for personnel and readiness has chartered a work group to evaluate a policy for mental health records. The MHS spokesman told Brewin that the work group will establish an official definition for a mental health record and develop a policy for retention and disposition of such records in all of the services.

How many combat veterans will die in their sleep or take their own lives while the work group develops an official definition and a policy?  How many more will die while they figure out how to implement the policy?

Is it acceptable to take a chance on losing even one more combat veteran to suicide or death as a result of a prescription drug cocktail overdose?  I don’t know how you feel about it, but it seems to me that somewhere along the way these mental health providers should have been made to stay a little bit later at the office to allow the needed time to enter the information into the computer system.

Would any of these providers leave the job undone if it they knew it was going to be their loved one lying in a casket as a result?

Originally published by the author at fellednot.com 

John Roberts, who recently became a reporter for Fox News, after leaving CNN, was in Lexington today with the White House Drug Czar, Gil Kerlikowse, who has launched a new initiative to discourage abuse of prescription drugs.

The story was presented numerous times on Fox News today.   Each time the story aired, disciplined members of the military who fell victim to prescription drugs were described as the new face of drug abuse.  Roberts shared the stories of LCpl Dustin Gross, (USMC, Retired) and Army Specialist Ingrid Rodwell.

We were told that LCpl Gross became addicted to pain pills after being injured by an IED blast while deployed.  The chosen focus in the Fox News story was that of Gross’s addiction and what he was willing to do to in desperation to get more pain pills.  It was even mentioned that he first declined narcotics when given the option of taking them.  Were we to assume that Gross waited until leaving the military before considering the option of pain medication?

In the case of SPC Rodwell, we heard about her difficult childhood and her choice to self-medicate using pills found in her mother’s medicine cabinet.  Once again, it would seem that the military is off the hook with regard to any responsibility of drug abuse.

We were told that the increase in prescription drug abuse in our military more than doubled between 2005 and 2008, rising from 10% to 22%.  One can only fathom what that statistic is today in 2011.

Kerlikowse said, “Sometimes as a country we only have a certain capacity for the complex problems and this was one that I truly believe was a bit under the radar screen but now it is really out there in front of everyone.”

“Part of the problem,” Roberts stated, “is that the drugs are readily available in medicine cabinets, on the streets, or from so called pill mills, shady pain clinics that will prescribe just about anything for a price.”

Roberts informed us that many of the drugs which end up on the streets here in Kentucky are coming up from Florida via what’s called “Flamingo Road”.  Dozens of pill mills in Florida are said to be the origination point for the illegal prescription drugs entering our state.

I’ve heard plenty of news about Flamingo Road and the drug problem here in Kentucky. It’s sad to hear that prescription drugs take the lives of 82 Kentuckians each month.  I think it’s important and necessary to bring these issues to the nation’s attention, but I’m confused as to why Fox News decided to air this story from such a limited perspective.

I’m sure everything stated in this news piece was true, however, Fox News omitted some very important information.  If they chose to air this story, featuring two of our veterans, why didn’t they go on to inform us of the real causes for the increase in drug abuse in our military?  Even more frustrating is the fact that the only mention of the VA Medical Center in this account was in telling us that both Gross and Rodwell had gotten clean thanks to treatment received in a VA drug program.  While I’m glad to hear that both veterans are on the road to a better life, I know there is another side to the VA’s treatment programs which needs to be investigated.

The majority of our troops and veterans who find themselves with a drug problem did not get their first prescriptions from their mother’s medicine cabinet or the Flamingo Road pipeline.  The first prescriptions likely came from the military doctors treating these men and women.

Besides physical injuries which cause significant pain, our troops are dealing with traumatic brain injuries and Post Traumatic Stress.  Military doctors are throwing dangerous drug cocktails at their patients and shoving them out the door.  With a staff shortage and no time to treat everyone who needs an appointment, doctors prescribe these pills with a 180 count bottles to allow more time in between patient appointments.

It’s time for all those who are responsible, military and civilian, to be held accountable for their actions.  It’s time for all of us to keep a close watch on our medicine cabinets.  It’s time to crack down on the illegal sale of drugs and get rid of pipelines like Flamingo Road, and it is also time for the Department of Defense and the VA Medical Centers to admit that in taking the easy way out and prescribing a multitude of pills to our troops, they have created an entire generation of drug addicts.

When I first caught a glimpse of the headline running across my television screen, “Veterans Among Largest Group Affected by Prescription Abuse” I was elated, thinking that I was finally going to hear that something was being done to combat this problem.  After realizing the story didn’t even touch on the real issues facing our veterans with regard to drug abuse, I was quickly disappointed.

Do your homework Fox News!  There are thousands of troops, veterans, and family members suffering because the military medical community can’t handle their caseload.  Lives are being destroyed and the culprits are nowhere near Flamingo Road.  They are walking the halls of our military hospitals and our VA Medical Centers.

How do I know this to be true?  I’m counted among the family members who have become casualties of the war on terror and casualties of the resulting war on prescription drugs.

Originally published by the author on fellednot.com

When it comes to my attention that reporters are not only interested in reporting on what is really going on in these Wounded Warrior units, but that they will research every angle and present the problems from several viewpoints, I am more thrilled.  I can promise you that Mr. Prine is definitely onto something and I certainly hope he will continue to dig for information.  Up to this point, most of the focus of this series has been on issues within the Army.  I can guarantee that there is a plenty of interesting information about the Marine Corps which needs to be brought to the attention of the American people, or at the very least, the families of the Marines who are now Wounded Warriors.

There are many truths in these articles written by Mr. Prine. How do I know?  Because the story is eerily familiar. I’ve stood by and watched as more than one Marine has entered Wounded Warrior Battalion-East, Camp Lejeune, NC, (WWBN-E) in hopes of getting proper medical care so they could return to their units and get on with their military careers.  Unfortunately, many find out that they are stuck in a place where there seems to be no way out and no road to recovery.

Don’t you find it the least bit strange that Lt. Gen. Eric Schoomaker felt compelled to write a letter to be published in the Trib to inform all of us that the Trib’s Wounded Warrior series has “grossly misrepresented the Army’s commitment and success in caring for wounded”?  This speaks volumes to me.  Why didn’t he just make his comments as the series was being written?  Apparently, he was given more than a dozen opportunities to be interviewed, which he declined.

I’ve listened to Lt. Gen. Schoomaker defend the Warrior Transition Units.  He never fails to bring up the supposed 91% of soldiers who say they are satisfied with their care at the WTU.  The part he doesn’t ever mention is how the surveys are conducted.  In all likelihood, he has no idea himself.  To better understand this remark, I will refer you to one of my previous blog entries, Are We Entitled to Our Own Opinion?

If you don’t know someone on the inside, particularly one who suffers from TBI or PTSD, you may not have the full story.  I’ve been studying this issue for 27 months.  I’ve lived the nightmare having a family member trapped inside one of these units.

I am well aware that there are many hard working and dedicated caregivers doing their best to help our wounded troops, but I am also aware that there are many who are mistreating our troops and must then cover their butts to be sure they can continue to climb the leadership ladder of success.

I beg to differ with Lt. Gen. Schoomaker on who is doing a disservice to the American people.  I believe we should give that credit to those who continue to sweep the obvious problems under the rug.

Vietnam veteran and former Deputy Undersecretary of Defense, Noel Koch, was picked by the Obama administration to investigate and alleviate problems in the Wounded Warrior units.  After compiling and presenting the information discovered, Koch was asked to resign or be fired.

According to the Trib’s article, Documents show Army’s disservice to broken soldiers, when Koch’s report was presented, Under Secretary of Defense for Personnel and Readiness, Clifford L. Stanley, simply said, ” ‘Wow,’ and then gave him a cryptic warning: ‘He (Stanley) did not address me (Koch) by name, but he did look directly at me and said the following: ‘It is important to be careful what is put in written reports. These can affect people’s careers.’ ”

This sounds more than a little familiar.  I was told by WWBN-E leadership, more than once, when I was desperately trying to get some help for my son, that the Marines about whom I had made complaints were good men.  I was told that bringing any such accusation to light would greatly affect their careers, therefore, there was simply no way leadership could move forward.  Leadership went to great lengths to discourage me, but I fought back with the help of Congressman Walter Jones (NC), and I wait anxiously for the results of the DoD Inspector General’s assessment which was conducted last fall.  Results were projected to be released in January, therefore, we could soon have access to the report.

What is even more interesting for me to discover is that when Mr. Koch visited WWBN-E back in October of 2009, I heard about his visit while the man was literally standing in the battalion.  I’ve got the inside scoop on the inside scoop and I just figured it out!  I’ve seen Mr. Koch’s name countless times in the media, but it wasn’t until I read the report, Wounded – Bragg Lejeune (Ft. Bragg, Camp Lejeune), attached to the Trib’s series that I put it all together.  Imagine my delight when I looked back through my arsenal of notes and found Mr. Koch’s name in my documentation.   If only I had not been so naive and gullible back then.  Maybe I would have called Mr. Koch.  I had access to his contact information and was too scared to dial the number.  Back then, it was impossible to figure out who could be trusted and I wasn’t far enough along in the courage building process to pick up the phone.  Now that I have come to this realization, I have to admit, I’m even more upset about Mr. Koch’s forced resignation.  He was trying to get to the truth and was abruptly stopped.  How different might things have been if he had been allowed to do his job?

I want to thank Carl Prine and the Pittsburgh Tribune Review for publishing this series.  It empowers me to come out from the hiding place where fear always takes me and tell my story.  I can only hope that other families will read his series and come to the same decision.  We have got to speak up and do something to help our wounded warriors, and we have to do it now.  While Lt Gen Schoomaker and his staff are “working on the rest” there are troops committing suicide and dying in their sleep as a result of the drug cocktails they have been prescribed.

Dear Mr. Zuckerburg,

Do you mind if I call you Mark?  I feel a bit strange calling you “Mister” since you are half my age. I finally had a chance to go online and watch your interview on 60 Minutes that aired last Sunday night and all I can say is WOW!

You’ve got 500 engineers working for you!  That’s incredible!  I had no idea that you had so much brain power harnessed in one place that you had to expand to an hangar to house it all. It is easy to see why so many people want to work for you at Facebook. It’s got to be a lot of fun! I couldn’t help but notice the young woman skateboarding through the hangar during one of the 60 Minutes segments.  How awesome is that?

It was interesting to learn of the competitive nature in which ideas are hatched or should I say “hacked” as you warmly call it.  Hackathons! What a great way to motivate your employees.  Add the opportunity to play a few games of Speed Chess, the indoor skatepark, and a ginormous salary and you could draw just about anyone from Google. It won’t be long before Serbey and Larry will be walking in the door to join you and the rest of their former employees.

Now that you’ve got all that talent contained in one or two hangars, it’s obvious that countless hours are spent creating incredible ways to keep all of us connected out here in cyberspace and keep us building social networks with friends and family.  I can hardly wait for the day that you get it all together and I can be socially networked to my toilet paper manufacturer and the companies who manufacture cheese balls and fruit cakes during the holidays.

One thing that continues to strike me as odd is that despite the fact that hundreds of people are on your payroll, you don’t seem to have a customer service department.  Does it seem the least bit ironic to you that the very place where you would have us come and create social relationships would be the very place where we can’t get any type of human interaction when we need help?  Is the purpose of a relationship only to ensure that a good time is had by all?  Are we not called to reach out and help one another and work together to to make this world a better place?

I think you know we need to help others.  Isn’t that why you just took the Giving Pledge?  You have pledged to give away half of your fortune to charity.  That’s quite a commitment.  Of course, if you wait until after your death to give it out, that’s not quite the same level of sacrifice as it would be for you to hand it out next week.  The idea of giving away half of $6.9 billion is hard to wrap my mind around, but it’s even harder for me to imagine having the other half of $6.9 billion to spend.  I just don’t think I need that much stuff.

Do you know, Mark, that while you are making this commitment, on the world’s stage, to give to others less fortunate, that you are also, at the very same time, crippling the social network of a small nonprofit charity which supports our deployed military?  The error, your error, has caused a complete halt in the way Military Missions, Inc. operates and motivates OUR social network.

We have followed your rules and submitted our report to your Help Center, notifying Facebook that our page has been shut down.  We have done this numerous times a day.  For the first two weeks, our submittal was always greeted with the same automated reply within a few seconds. For the past three days, we haven’t even gotten an automated reply.

Because you are more interested in Hackathons and signing attention-getting pledges, you have failed to make sure that you have your priorities in order.  Your priority should be to focus on those who use your social network and allow you to be $6.9 billion richer than the rest of us.

Someone who works for you has pulled the plug on our Facebook business page.  We have made repeated attempts for two weeks to get this issue resolved.  We had planned to send out 3000 packages to our deployed soldiers for Christmas this year, but it looks like only 2000 will get a box on December 25th.

Did I mention that we sacrificed donation money to print 3000 letters to be included in the care packages which direct the troops to come to our Facebook page, just a teensy part of your Facebook Empire?  We happen to be the social network which links the grateful Americans to those heroes who defend our freedoms.  Our main communication tool, the one for which we just restructured our entire social network, has let us down.  Yes, Mark, it is you who has taken Santa out of our soldier’s Christmas this year.  Why you?  Because you are the guy in charge.  Because you have the power to make a difference.

No telling how many troops who would have received a Christmas care package from us will likely spend Christmas without any encouragement from home.  These brave troops are standing in the gap for your freedom, Mark.  They are serving in harm’s way so you can live in a nation where it’s possible for a 26 year old man to become a billionaire.

Mark, what is your real purpose in striving to make Facebook such a popular social network tool?  Are you really just trying to provide a place where we can all feel at home and find cause to celebrate our birthdays with 525 of our closest friends?  Or, is it possible that you have been stealing all the brain power from Google so you can take over the entire World Wide Web as was suggested by Lesley Stahl during the 60 Minutes interview?

What are you going to do with all of your Facebookites after you have finally drawn all of us in?  At some point, you are going to have to consider the fact that we aren’t going to stick around very long if you don’t make yourself more approachable.  Those who have the privilege of being on the inside playing Speed Chess and pulling the all nighters to be a part of the Hackathons might be having fun now, but how much fun will it be for them when we all go find another social network, one that cares enough to have a customer support system in place?

I’m pretty sure that the advertisers who pay your salaries will follow us because we are the ones whom they really seek.  They need us to buy their stuff.  The advertisers will follow us to the social network with the customer service department, and soon enough your massive hangars will be empty and the brain power you stole from Google will be stolen from under your nose too.  I am suddenly reminded of the loneliness felt by Ebenezer Scrooge as he sat alone counting his gold coins.

We aren’t going to put up with the fact that you won’t take our calls.  We aren’t going to put up with the fact that you won’t answer our emails.  If you aren’t going to offer any customer support, then the least you can do is be honest.  Delete your Help Center and tell us that we are out here on our own.

The customer always comes first, Mark.  If you don’t keep us happy, we will find another place to network with our extended family.  You are the one who introduced us to this amazing revelation and now we just can’t get enough of being poked by the Tidy-Bowl man, Mr. Clean, and the Pillsbury Dough Boy.

I’m still willing to accept your apology with full restitution of our Facebook page at www.facebook.com/MilitaryMissionsInc, but I’m not going to wait much longer.  We can Tweet, Digg, Tumble, and Flickr just as easily as we can LIKE the world on Facebook.

Bah Humbug, Mr. Zuckerberg!

Originally published by the author at open.salon.com. 

Dear Facebook,

Today I write to ask you not only when you are going to correct the error you made in shutting down the business page associated with our nonprofit, MILITARY MISSIONS, INC., but to also ask you why you would shut us down, and at the same time, allow a huge nonprofit organization, the USO, to do the very same thing to our CAUSE Wall for OPERATION SEND CHRISTMAS!

By now, if you are actually monitoring your HELP CENTER, you should be well aware of the fact that you shut down the business page for Military Missions, Inc.  If you are not yet aware of this issue, despite the fact that you have received numerous emails, daily, for almost two weeks, I will refer you to this link where you can get the full explanation. http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=481950849867.  You can also get some further perspective from this link: http://bit.ly/i1NsbU

I’ve been extremely frustrated by the fact that you haven’t answered any of my emails regarding this situation, FACEBOOK.  I’m even more annoyed to find that many days during this same two week period of time that multiple people are posting their product on our Facebook CAUSES wall for OPERATION S.E.N.D. CHRISTMAS.  While I am sure that their product is a great one which will support our troops, I don’t understand why it is okay for two HUGE nonprofits, WARRIOR WISH FOUNDATION and the USO, to do the very same thing for which you shut down little old Military Missions, Inc.  Did I mention that some of these posts can’t be deleted by any of us at Military Missions?

Here is my question to you, FACEBOOK.  Are you going to reinstate our business page for MILITARY MISSIONS, INC. (www.facebook.com/MilitaryMissionsInc), or FACEBOOK, are you going to shut down the USO and WARRIOR WISH FOUNDATION?  Which is it going to be?  A policy is a policy.

If the USO isn’t condoning these postings on pages all over the Facebook world, then the USO should not be punished, in my opinion, for the actions of those pushing William Kitchens – The Way Christmas Ought To Be (A Soldier’s Christmas).  However, MILITARY MISSIONS INC. should not be punished for the actions taken by other parties knowing that we had nothing to do with these said actions. The individuals pushing the William Kitchen’s product should be the ones to pay the price. I know you did punish the individuals who were posting and tagging our organization.

I am wondering, FACEBOOK, what would happen if you shut down the USO’s Facebook page.  How long would the USO let that decision go unnoticed?  Is there a Facebook hotline number for nonprofits that take in donations totaling more than $100,000 a year?   I’m pretty sure that the USO is big enough that they would be able to get your attention in less than a minute.

Comparing Military Missions, Inc. to the USO is like comparing a tiny drop of water to the ocean.  Here is a quick comparison:

In 2009 the USO reports a total income of $253,311,123.  Military Missions, Inc. reports a total income of $56,694.

The USO reports that they spend $477,736 to pay the salary of one person, their CEO, Sloan Gibson.  Military Missions, Inc. has a full time CEO.  I happen to be wearing that hat.  I am paid nothing.  Not one red cent!  I work a minimum of twelve hours a day.  I don’t want a dime.  I’m giving back to those who serve on my behalf and I am very glad to do it.  Fortunately, my husband is willing to be the bread winner for our family and he even helps out a lot at home because I work longer hours than he does.

The USO reports a Board Size of 33 people with a paid staff of 424 people.  No telling how much those individuals make, but paying 424 people has got to cost a pretty penny.    We have a small board of 7 people.  Our office staff is made up of volunteers, approximately 10 people (including board members), none of whom get paid.

The USO claims, on their website, that total program expenses are $215,301,415.  (http://www.bbb.org/charity-reviews/national/veterans-and-military/uso-in-arlington-va-452)

The only expenses we have, which we have taken on in the past year due to our growth is as follows:  Rent and utilities for our office space, phone and internet, and expenses for a computer. Our monthly bills average about $800.  That’s it.  Everything else is donated.  Even our office space is rented to us at about 20% of what it would cost if we were being charged the full rent.

I realize that the USO was founded in 1941.  They have a pretty good head start on Military Missions, Inc. I realize that the USO does many amazing things to encourage and support our troops.  I am certain that countless lives are touched and changed by the incredible efforts of the USO. I also realize that they spend a lot of money for advertising and to have full time paid employees on their staff.  You can accomplish a lot more if you have the funding to hire people and get the word out across the nation.

We will never be able to make the same kind of impact that is made by the USO, but that is not our goal.  I might point out that I never intended to start a nonprofit.  I was just a Marine mom, sending out care package to her deployed son and his buddies.  I started this endeavor from my dining room table in 2004.  When I realized in 2007, that my efforts that year had brought in $12,000 from friends and family in our area who were stepping in to help, and I realized that people in our area wanted a way to give back, I knew I should consider taking the steps to create a nonprofit organization.

Military Missions, Inc. was approved as a 501(c)(3) in January of 2008.  The first year we brought in $21,993.  Last year, we brought in $56,694.  We do all of this simply by word of mouth and the hard work of dedicated volunteers.

I don’t run in corporate circles so I don’t know any big spenders.  I spent 12 years teaching elementary school and 8 years home educating my children.  Military Missions, Inc. is a nonprofit based on a mother’s heart.  It’s not about how many packages we can send out or how much money we can bring in.  It’s about knowing every name on our list, how we came to have that name (in other words knowing his story shared by his family, friends, or the soldiers in his unit), and then making sure that the individual gets a care package from us every month, for the duration of his/her deployment.  It’s also about our hospitalized veterans whom we serve on a regular basis here in Lexington, Kentucky. We can’t forget about those who have served and sacrificed and must now live with circumstances which are life-altering.

I never intended to be where I am today, in a full time, nonpaying position, that tends to keep me away from home far longer than I would choose, but I can tell you that I wouldn’t have it any other way.  People are looking for a way to support the troops.  People want to make it personal.  You just can’t make it personal with a lot of these big entities.  Writing a check is simply not personal.  Sure, it’s a way to give, but many of us want to do more.  Many of us want to serve our country in a different way.  I can’t enlist, but I can sure do something to make a difference right here in my little corner of the world.

FACEBOOK, you have been a wonderful tool for us, the tiny small profit, Military Missions, Inc.  We have tapped into the social network craze just like everyone else and we have found that because using Facebook’s business page feature doesn’t come with a monetary cost, we can fit your platform right into our budget.

In using your business page feature, we found that people were interested in meeting ourHero of the Day.  We found that people wanted to see how many different states were represented in the mail each day as we receive cards from across the nation to place in our care packages.  We found that the troops wanted to join our business page and be a part of our Military Missions family, so much that we have printed 3000 letters to be included in our care packages going out next week with the web address of our Facebook page which you have shut down!  Many deployed soldiers have already “liked” our page, but by now, they are probably very disappointed to see it has vanished.

I’ve got a lot to do today FACEBOOK, so I will have to close.  I will ask you this question one more time. Are you going to reinstate our business page for MILITARY MISSIONS, INC. (www.facebook.com/MilitaryMissionsInc), or FACEBOOK, are you going to shut down the USO and WARRIOR WISH FOUNDATION?  Which is it going to be?  A policy is a policy.  A double standard is a double standard.

I’ve tried to call.  I’ve tried to write.  I’ve followed your Customer Support prompts daily for almost two weeks.  People are suggesting I go to the media.  I sure don’t want to throw myself out there for my 15 minutes of fame, but it might be my only option.  I saw a young girl on the Today Show this morning, speaking out about cyber bullying on Facebook.  Maybe she couldn’t get through to your HELP CENTER either.

Beth Pennington

Founder, Military Missions, Inc.

Originally published by the author at open.salon.com

Dear Facebook,

Congratulations! You have just been nominated and unanimously voted the winner of the2010 GRINCH AWARD.  With the click of a button, you have all but shut down our tiny nonprofit organization which supports our deployed troops.

First, I’d like for you to imagine 3000 deployed troops, halfway across the globe, putting their lives on the line for all of us, who will not be home for Christmas.  They won’t be celebrating the holiday with family.  There will be no tree.  There will be no feast, and now there will likely be no gifts to open.

For the soldier who has family, he knows that his loved ones will be gathered together on December 25th, but he knows that it just won’t be the same without him. He knows that his family will try to go on and celebrate the day as they do each year, but they will simply be going through the motions because they won’t be able to shake the reality that he is alone and in harm’s way on this holiday.

This soldier will have a package to open.  No one forgets their soldier on this holiday.  But, FACEBOOK, what about the soldiers who do not have families?  Did you know that many of our deployed troops will receive nothing this Christmas?  Did you know, MR. GRINCH, that many of these brave souls, willing to stand in the gap for YOUR freedom have no support from home?

 The Military Missions, Inc. family takes care of these heroes.  We send packages every month, but we go all out for Christmas!  We are a very small nonprofit but we do some really big things.  Everyone in our ‘family’ is a volunteer who willingly gives countless hours, especially in November and December, to SEND CHRISTMAS to our deployed troops.  We do everything we can to keep our expenses at a minimum so that we can use every dime donated to pay for the postage to get our care packages into the hands of our troops.  That’s one reason we have allowed you, FACEBOOK, to end up with the power to pull our plug and violate our freedom of speech.

We receive requests every day from deployed troops who give us the names of men and women in their units who receive NO MAIL during entire deployments.  We adopt these heroes and we take care of them.  Did I mention that we receive requests from the family members who just can’t afford to send a box to their deployed loved one?  We receive countless requests from young wives who can barely make ends meet to keep food on the table for their children.  These heroes on the homefront simply can’t afford to buy items to send to their soldier.  They can’t afford the high cost of postage either.  Often, the only box some soldiers will receive while deployed is the box that comes from us at Military Missions, Inc.

 When it comes to number of boxes sent out, we can’t compete with the big nonprofits who send out thousands upon thousands of packages, but I can promise that our boxes are the most personal care packages sent out by any organization.  We receive personal cards, letters, and donations from caring people all over the USA who just want to say thank you to our troops.   Because many can’t give monetarily, they give by recruiting people in their circles of influence to make cards and write letters which are sent to us to be included in our packages.  These donations are invaluable, because after all, the most important part of the package is the sentiment and gratitude poured out in these messages.  Long after the snacks are eaten and the socks are worn, the messages are read time and time again by our troops who need encouragement from home.  Have you ever considered what it must be like to be living in harm’s way for an entire year, or longer, with nothing from home?

We don’t have corporate sponsors.  I’m just the mother of a combat wounded Marine who started sending packages overseas.  I don’t run in corporate circles and the only reason I find myself running a nonprofit is because I saw a need and I decided to make sure it was met. The average donation to our organization is $25-$50.  We don’t advertise.  We simply can’t afford to do it.  We have a websites, www.military-missions.org, but we have found that one of the most effective ways to recruit people to our website is to hang out on social networks such as yours, FACEBOOK, where we can get the word out and use our donation dollars for the troops, not corporate America.

We certainly don’t have 100,000 followers on our business page, www.facebook.com/MilitaryMissionsInc, but those who do follow are very involved.  They look for our photos received from the troops, they wait to see who will be our “Hero of the Day”, and they follow our posts for donation requests because they want the troops to know they care.

We have deployed troops following our page who look to see who sent cards for the packages, what kind of video we have created, or when we are sending out our next shipment of boxes.  We give them a glimpse of home….or at least we did until you pulled the plug on our page, FACEBOOK.

Why is it that WE the PEOPLE, have given you, FACEBOOK, such an incredible amount of power, when you provide virtually NO customer service?  There is no way to make a phone call to you FACEBOOK.   Your Help Center is nothing more than a lot of questions with answers that lead nowhere.  If there is any opportunity to submit information, it is greeted with an automatic reply, which is never answered, and likely never read.  After ten days of submitting information, I’d like a response.  I don’t have time to contact you every single day.  I’m trying to get 3000 care packages shipped before Christmas and now I have to reinvent the wheel to get the word out.

To make this situation even more infuriating FACEBOOK, you shut us down and we were not even aware of it for the first few days.  WHY?  Because my son was in the hospital!  I wasn’t out there in your little corner of the world spamming people.  I was sitting in a hospital taking care of one of our nation’s wounded warriors.  There is something very, very wrong with this picture, FACEBOOK!

Social networking is the way to go.  We all buy into it.  It’s free.  We set up our accounts and we connect them all together to broaden our network and save time sending out important information.  Military Missions, Inc. happens to have you, FACEBOOK, as the center of our networking universe.  Everything is connected through YOU, or it was until you shut us down due to actions taken by a third party who was tagging our organization to multiple posts.  Our website links to you, FACEBOOK, to get the word out about events. We host all of our photos on your website, and we have just printed THREE THOUSAND Christmas letters which we are sending overseas to our troops.  Every single letter directs our troops to our Facebook page…..which no longer exists because you pulled the plug without doing your homework!  We can’t afford to reprint the letter, nor do we have time to undo our boxes and make this correction.

I have repeatedly read that you, FACEBOOK, investigate BEFORE you take away publishing rights.  I don’t think the investigation for the removal of our page,www.facebook.com/MilitaryMissionsInc was thorough.  If it had been, you would have realized that we never spam anyone….NEVER EVER!  You may have also noted that the individual posting and tagging our organization is not a site administrator.  You might also want to look into a history of our posts.  You won’t find a history of us posting on other organization’s walls.  That’s just tacky!

I read complaints on the Facebook blog just yesterday, from parents who want pornography removed from their children’s Facebook pages. Their requests are ignored, and yet, someone makes a complaint about a small nonprofit run by the little people and you shut them down with no research, no notification, and absolutely no way for us to solve the problem. Who has the power to get your attention anyway?  Is it one of the BIG nonprofits?

I have also had to send messages to individuals TODAY, who are posting their spam on our FACEBOOK CAUSES page.  I really didn’t think they meant any harm so I simply asked them nicely to stop posting on our page.  This is how I always handle it.   If they do it again, then I might report them, but everyone has always honored my request in the past.

FACEBOOK, I think there is something really wrong with this picture. Perhaps we should all move to another social network that actually cares about the people who use it. 

Maybe you just grew up too fast, FACEBOOK, and you simply don’t have enough experience and life lessons to realize you can’t handle this enormous phenomenon you have created.  I’d like to think you DO care about all of us who are putting bread on your table simply because we use your social network.  I’d like to think that you DO care about the troops who are defending your freedom, even though they may not get a package because you have shut down our main avenue of communication at the busiest time of our year.

I’d like to think you DO care FACEBOOK, but until you stop spending all of your time creating new ways for us to view our user profiles and start developing some customer service options which allow us to speak to a human being and get our problems solved you are going to continue to be known in my little world as THE GRINCH WHO STOLE MY SOLDIER’S CHRISTMAS!  Here’s to hoping you don’t win again in 2011.

Sincerely,

Beth Pennington

Founder, Military Missions Inc.

Click here to watch Kentucky’s Band of Brothers.

This was originally published by the author on open.salon.com.

When the Congressional Report Card arrived in my inbox, I immediately began to review it. Having worked very closely with several lawmakers over the past year, I was excited to see the glowing report of those who have spent countless hours fighting the system to ensure that our wounded warriors across the nation receive the best possible care. I’ll admit, I was also extremely anxious to view the failing grades by those who had not put any effort into the issues facing our wounded warriors. One of the main reasonsI dropped what I was doing to view this report is because, as I have already mentioned, I regard the IAVA as one of the most reliable sources to find out what is really going on and I trust that they are completely dedicated to advocating for the best possible treatment for our veterans.

Imagine my surprise when I found that my congressman, Ben Chandler, who has done very little to help my efforts, received an A on his report card. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I quickly looked to find the grade for Congressman Walter Jones of North Carolina. This man has gone far beyond the call of duty to help my son and countless other Marines based at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. Fully expecting to see an A+, I nearly fell out of my seat when I saw his report card grade was a C.

Once I was able to lift my jaw off the ground, I figured there had to be some mistake. How can a man who has dedicated himself to fighting an uphill battle for our wounded warriors be described in a nutshell as an average lawmaker? Congressman Walter Jones is far from average. Not only does he have at least one liaison for our military and veterans who is 100% dedicated to revealing the truth and solving problems, the congressman has gotten personally involved and has spent countless hours on our case alone. I can’t imagine that the man has time to sleep. I’ve heard that he never takes a vacation and I believe it!

Even harder to fathom is the A sitting next to Ben Chandler’s name. I’ve never spoken to him. I’ve had to fight tooth and nail to get any attention from his staff. How did I get attention? First I wrote a strong letter informing his staff that I would be sure to let everyone know during the campaign of the “real” efforts of Congressman Chandler should anyone ask me for my opinion on how he supports veterans and troops. When I stopped by the office a few weeks later, I was greeted with hostility and a coldness that I regarded as unprofessional. I did not verbally mention my intent to share my opinion, but my letter must have struck a nerve because I was bluntly told, during my visit, that I could just go “vote for someone else!” As the months have passed, the relationship between me and the staffer has actually become more positive, but we both had to turn the other cheek to move forward. I’m pretty sure that the only reason I got any action is because I was seen as a threat, viewed as one who would likely spout off an opinion that would not be positive PR for the congressman. Even more convincing, I am sure, was the relationship that I had established with Congressman Jones office.

There is a difference between Congressman Walter Jones and Congressman Ben Chandler. Congressman Jones really listens. He looks into the situation from all sides. He takes action when he sees the need to do so, and most importantly, he is approachable.

It seems to me that the case workers in the many of these offices are told how to handle a situation, and these people make all of the decisions. If I had to guess, I would say that Chandler has never heard my name before. He probably never got personally involved at all. It is my belief that he would have been a little bit curious about this particular case because of the path it has taken over the past year. His name is stamped on all the letters written for this case, but he didn’t put it there himself. An aide likely made the assumption that this issue was not important enough to bring the the congressman’s attention. The aide was likely instructed to handle things that way the day he was hired. I don’t believe Congressman Chandler can really be described as a representative who is focused enough on veteran’s issues to receive an A on his report card.

I spent months documenting problems at Wounded Warrior Battalion East, Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. I was extremely concerned about the health care my son was receiving and I noticed that his was not an isolated case. I made sure I had enough evidence so that someone would actually believe me, and when I felt I had enough documentation, I finally moved forward. My motivation – I feared for my son’s life.

I approached every senator and congressman sitting on the Armed Services Committees in the House and the Senate. Only a handful replied. Senator Bunning and Senator McConnell must have replied out of obligation since I am from their state of Kentucky, but I know for a fact that they weren’t interested. The grade of D received by Senators McConnell and Bunning seems generous, but those are the most accurate of the four lawmakers mentioned here today. I would guess that neither of these men has ever heard my name or that of my Marine.

Several lawmakers sent an initial inquiry. The Marine Corps did an “investigation”. The report came back with nothing but positive remarks about their incredible program and fabricated answers to all the questions. In every case, except one, I received a reply from lawmakers stating that they were glad to see that the Marine Corps was doing such a wonderful job taking care of our wounded Marines. They stated that they were happy to be of service and that they hoped they could be of service to our family again in the future. Translation: We believe in what the big guy has to say. You must be a crazy mom with time on your hands and we are far too busy to waste our time on an overprotective mother.

With the exception of Congressman Jones, not one of these lawmakers (or their case workers) bothered to ask me for my evidence. Each of them blindly accepted the Marine Corps findings and went on with their lives. During the months that I had waited for the truth to be revealed and for the wounded warriors to get the treatment they deserved, the command was retaliating because they didn’t like the fact that Mommy had opened Pandora’s Box. Things got worse instead of better, and the Marines assigned to WWBN-E gave up on ever getting any real help.

Fortunately, Congressman Jones knew better. He got personally involved, taking the time on numerous occasions to speak with me and my son. He wrote letters and spoke to the highest officials in the Marine Corps many times. He worked for months to present information to the Department of Defense Inspector General’s office and was finally able to convince the IG that this problem must be assessed. He never gave up and the Inspector General’s office finally launched a nationwide assessment of wounded warrior facilities for the Army and Marine Corps.

Almost two years after my fight began, I was seated across the table from two members of the Inspector General’s team who flew to Lexington, Kentucky, specifically to speak to me. They spent three days interviewing me and looking over my documentation. They thanked me for my tenacity, and then they headed to Camp Lejeune to assess the Wounded Warrior program. The report should become available in January.

I can’t explain Congressman Jones voting record, but I know if I picked up the phone right now, I could get an honest answer to that question. He knows my name. He knows the name of my son. He knows the name of many other Marines and family members who are fighting for proper treatment, and he knows something about each of us as individuals. Amongst countless other bills he has introduced is HR 1701: PTSD/TBI Guaranteed Review for Heroes Act which was signed into law in October, 2009. I know he works hard every day to make sure that our wounded warriors, veterans, active duty military, and their families get what is needed and deserved. Maybe part of the reason he gets it is because he, himself, is a veteran.

I’m not here to say any of the information included in this document released by IAVA is false. I’m sure it is accurate. I realize that IAVA’s intent is to inform. and for that I am greatly appreciative of the countless hours that went into the publication. I do think, however, that we owe it to ourselves, our veterans, our troops, and our military families to do more than just look at the information in this report. We need to read between the lines and do our homework in an effort to be fully informed. Our representatives should be doing more than showing up for a vote. Let’s look at the entire picture and find out about the other efforts our representatives are making so we can make an informed decision before we vote next Tuesday.

Originally published by the author at fellednot.com

http://media.iava.org/iava_action/IAVA_Action_2010_Congressional_Report_Card.pdf

The more time we give these people to campaign, the more time they have to dig up dirt on the other guy, air his dirty laundry, or fabricate stories to turn us away from their opponent.

Just this morning I found a newsletter in my email box stating that Mitt Romney, Tim Pawlenty, Rick Santorum, and Haley Barbour will all makes stops in Iowa this week. Apparently, they can never be too early in preparing for the caucuses scheduled there in January 2012.   I don’t have time to research the schedules of the candidates on the democratic side of the fence.  Had they been mentioned in the article, they would also be listed here.  I know they would not sit back and let the republicans do all of the campaigning so I am sure their itineraries are already scheduled as well.

Here I was, looking forward to November 3 – the day that I will no longer be bombarded with political ads, dirty laundry, and fabricated bologna.  Instead I realize that I will now be inundated with all the candidates running for election in 2012.  Is there no end to this bombardment?

I’m sick and tired of turning on my television only to see commercial after commercial full of anger, lies, and finger pointing.  If the candidates in my state of Kentucky have actually done the things I’m hearing about in these ads, they belong behind bars and not on the campaign trail.  These ads are obviously created by the same people that produce the ambulance chasing legal ads.  They are an insult to our intelligence….well, most of us, anyway.   I guess there are a few out there that believe this propaganda since it’s found to be playing on my television screen 24/7.

It’s time to regulate these political campaigns and stop the negative campaigning.  Can we make it illegal?  I might point out that I won’t give one dime to a campaign if it might go to pay for one of those ads.  I can get more value for my dollar somewhere else.

I have to wonder what goes on in the mayor’s office here in Lexington, Kentucky, during normal business hours.  The mayor and the vice mayor are both running for the top position and are both running ads that would anger anyone so I’m pretty sure there is a coldness to the air inside that building.  The ads are negative, accusatory, and frankly I have no idea why I should vote for either one of them.  Right now I only know why I shouldn’t vote for either one of them.  Am I to expect that they are both working side by side to meet the needs of those of us who reside in this fair city?  I’m not holding my breath!

I have to wonder if my congressman has really been personally visiting everyone he claims to have spoken with across our district when I couldn’t even get his personal attention even one time in the past year for an issue that was life threatening to our wounded warriors.  Maybe that’s why he didn’t have time for me.  He must have been busy campaigning for votes.  Here’s a piece of my mind that might be of value.  Mr. Chandler, do your job.  Then you might get all of our votes!

Here are a few more bits and pieces of my mind for anyone who is interested. I don’t want to hear of all the wrong that has been done by the person who currently holds the office.  Newsflash!  I already know!

I don’t want to hear an embellished version of something that a candidate might have done 35 years ago when he was a teenager.  There is not a person on this planet that doesn’t have some sort of regret in their past.  We all make mistakes, and typically, we learn our best lessons from them.

I don’t want to hear about Nancy Pelosi, Barack Obama, George W., or Bill Clinton anymore.  What they have or haven’t done is irrelevant.  I don’t want to know how wrong the other guy’s ideas are for our country.  I want to know what the candidate, himself, is going to do to fix things around here.  And by the way, please say it without blaming or involving any other individuals and their past actions.  Can anyone even do that?  Both sides just finger point and I’m sick of it!   I want to know why I should cast my vote for the guy doing the talking today and asking for my vote next Tuesday.

I don’t want to spend my time answering the same old questions from every pollster that has found access to my home phone number.  I don’t need anyone else to leave me a message telling me that next Tuesday is Election Day!  Got it!

Just this week, I set aside a valuable hour of my time to watch Rand Paul and Jack Conway debate.  By the end of the debate, I was furious because both candidates were more content to sling mud at every opportunity.  Even more insulting was to find that the angry mob outside was resorting to physical violence.  Now the entire nation is watching Kentuckians act like foolish thugs, pointing the finger of blame as if that gives them an excuse to act childish.  No one even seems to care about the issues discussed that night or if we gleaned any information about our candidates from the debate.

I wasn’t out there in the parking lot that night.  I don’t know who started the fiasco.  The woman who was wrestled to the ground is not even from Kentucky so what was she doing here in the first place?  Shouldn’t she be in her own state holding a sign?  If groups like MoveOn.org would mind their manners, people like Lauren Valle wouldn’t be empowered to wear wigs and give out “awards”.  Her intent was to cause trouble.  She got it, so why is she complaining?

I’m not any more impressed by Tim Profitt who stomped on Valle.  Profitt came to the event looking for trouble too, and fully intended to be the one to take care of it when he found it.  He took care of it alright. Valle was already on the ground, and he just couldn’t resist stomping on her!  That was incredibly stupid and he just went from asset to liability as far as Rand Paul is concerned.

Dr. Paul is offended because his Christian beliefs are being questioned.  Frankly, the man is making me question his beliefs and it has nothing to do with the ridiculous “aqua buddha” commercial I have been forced to watch day in and day out.  Rand Paul would go a lot further to show me he is a Christian by walking the walk.  I’ve met him before and if first impressions speak the loudest, he is a rude, arrogant man who is not going to be the least bit interested in his constituents.  Call me crazy, but those characteristics are not typically used to describe a man of God.  Seems to me that if someone truly cares about representing the people, his love and respect for his potential constituents would be evident to all of us.

Since Christianity is one of the main topics in this particular feud, I can’t forget to mention that Jack Conway stated during the debate that he was a Christian and in the same sentence he said that he believed that abortion was okay in certain circumstances.  When is it ever acceptable to kill an unborn child?  I don’t care if the woman was raped.  The child has the same right to life that the rest of us have been given.  Can’t something good ever come from something bad?  Jack, I’ve never met you, but I could tell when you answered the question that you knew your answer just didn’t make sense. This makes me wonder how often you will say something or do something just because you want to say or do what you believe is the right thing for that particular time or for that particular audience.

I’ve probably taken this election more seriously than any other in my life because over the past year, I’ve finally exercised my option as a tax paying citizen to ask for help from my representatives.  I already know our elected lawmakers are busy, and I wouldn’t expect any one of them to devote all of their time to me, personally.  I already know that I must share their time with the other constituents in the district.

What I didn’t know, but what I learned, is that Senator McConnell and Congressman Chandler, who represent me, aren’t the least bit interested in their constituents.  Fortunately, a congressman from another state (Walter Jones, North Carolina) was interested in their constituent from Kentucky, and it was in working with him that I discovered the real difference between an official who truly cares about his constituents and one who doesn’t.  Let me clarify when I refer to a constituent as one who fits the definition of middle class American, rather than constituent who represents one who possesses big bucks.

I am concerned about the issues, and come November 2, I will have to vote for somebody.  I will likely vote for the one who most closely represents the issues from my perspective.  That is, if I can figure that out once I sift through the garbage, but to be honest, what I’m really looking for in a representative is nowhere to be found at this particular time.

I want to vote for someone who has taken the time to look me in the eye and stop long enough to hear what I am saying and be just a little bit interested in my value as a human being, a Kentuckian, and one who just might vote them into office.  Don’t ask me a question if you don’t want to listen to the answer.  Right now Andy Barr is the only one who has done that.

I want to vote for the one who will get personally involved in my case rather than have some aide stonewall me with form letters and a signature made with a rubber stamp for months on end.

I want to vote for someone who will know my name after several months of supposed work on my case.

I want to vote for someone who will take the time to look at my evidence, and defend it against the powers that be because it is the right thing to do, rather than look the other way because it’s just too hard to go up against Goliath, no matter how wrong the giant might be.

I want to vote for someone who will work with other lawmakers to accomplish something big instead of giving my vote to the guy who accomplishes nothing because he has to stick to some silly policy that tells him he just can’t work with any other offices.  That doesn’t even make sense!

I want to vote for someone who thinks my vote, my life, my issues, and my family are just as important as the wealthiest and most powerful constituent on his roll.

Gentlemen, you’ve got six days left.  I’m waiting for a good reason to push the lever next to your name.

In the beginning I kept the unfolding situation completely confidential.  Little by little, I began to speak up and speak out.  I realized that I was in a situation where I had my obligation as a mother to fight for proper medical care for my son, but I also felt that I had a moral obligation to fight for those wounded troops who were in a similar situation, yet had no advocate.

There is a fine line between helping someone in the military and ruining their lives.  The military doesn’t like anyone butting in and pointing out their flaws.  The only way to help someone is to put that individual at risk.

When you realize you aren’t getting anywhere, because the military plain and simply tunes you out, you start to wonder if you are going to have to go public.  We all know that the media will get the word out, but we don’t know how the situation will be presented, nor can we control the perceptions and misconceptions of those who become informed through this outlet.

We have all seen lives destroyed in a split second when the cow pie hits the fan.  While we may enjoy watching someone else’s life go up in smoke, none of us want our own lives to be subjected to the unfair and biased lynch mob waiting to pounce on our big story.

Keeping quiet was easy until I knew that my son’s life was in danger.  Realizing I had to save his life put me in the risky category.  For well over a year, I was making contacts with high ranking military officials and lawmakers, writing letters, making phone calls, investigating programs and treatments, and fighting for my son’s life.  Not wanting a media circus, but feeling compelled to speak up, I decided to start blogging.

Unfortunately, I live in a town where a lot of people know our family so even when I was writing the blog, I wasn’t sharing it with my own home town.  To this day, I still don’t put it out there to many people.  I have tried to keep my name out of it, hoping people will be more concerned about the issue itself, rather than the mother and son who happen to be living the story out up close and personal.  I have posted some of the blog entries here on Open Salon.  It seems safer because I don’t know anyone here personally.  I can blog, get some reaction, and my son doesn’t have to know I’m doing it.  We don’t become the center of attention and people who want to help, and can make a difference, have read my blog and taken action.

An issue such as the one I’ve been battling deserves national attention, but I just don’t want the national attention to have my life, or my son’s life, as the centerpiece.  After a long battle, however, I guess I’m getting braver because I’m ever so slowly allowing the ultimate goal – that of saving the lives of our troops suffering with the invisible wounds of war – become more important than the fear of being attacked by the lynch mob.

I’ve got to step out in faith.  I’ve got to do the right thing.  I’ve got to believe that God will never give me more than I can handle.  I have to believe that God would not have brought me this far to leave me or my son to be destroyed by the Corps or the opinions of the American public.  I’ve learned to trust in the fact that God is bigger than the Marine Corps!

After almost two years of fighting an uphill battle, my son is finally out of the Marine Corps, a retired disabled veteran.  The Department of Defense Inspector General’s office is now conducting a nationwide assessment of medical care for wounded warriors in the Army and the Marine Corps.  They have come to my home town to spend three days interviewing me, and have also spent two weeks at Camp Lejeune, the base where my son should have received proper care. All of this has been accomplished because I didn’t give up, and because an incredible lawmaker, Congressman Walter Jones of North Carolina, listens to his constituents and dedicates himself to solving problems brought to his attention.  Congressman Jones has been diligently working to make sure this issue gets the attention that is needed.  He will not stop until our troops are getting proper medical care.

I finally agreed to stand against the scrutiny of the local media in Jacksonville, North Carolina, allowing an article to be published about the situation.  I also decided to bravely set the record straight by blogging about the news article published in the Jacksonville Daily News last Sunday.

I will continue to post some of my blog entries right here on Open Salon. I enjoy this community and have made friends here.  Some out there have been critics, others have been supportive.  To all of you paying attention, no matter which side you are on, I wanted to let you know that I’m beginning to open the door to reveal the bigger picture.  I hope you will take some time to read some of the blog entries and pay attention to the news that may be generated from my decision to go public.

I know I did the right thing because other people who have been living in a nightmare just like mine are contacting me.  They opened the Jacksonville paper and found themselves reading their own story, told by a mother from Kentucky.  I always knew I wasn’t alone.  I’m hopeful these new found friends will come to see the benefit of opening up to accomplish a greater purpose – saving lives.

To read the story, “Team Surveys Wounded Warrior Battalion as Troubling Reports Mount” in the Jacksonville Daily News, click here.

To read my response to the article, where I set the record straight, click here.

If you find yourself concerned about medical care for our wounded warriors, I hope you will help me to spread the word about this issue by sending people to my blog.

Originally published by the author at open.salon.com

Though many seek their “fifteen minutes of fame”, most of us are content to stay out of the spotlight and live our lives out quietly. Merge the proverbial rumor mill and the power of media and technology as it exists today, and it only takes about five minutes for one’s life to be totally destroyed, even when the leaked information is false.  Innocent people are victimized every single day by the press and it will never stop as long as we all buy into it.

There are a lot of misconceptions out there, so you need to realizethat you just can’t believe everything you read in print. The reporter is writing from his own perspective.  His perspective is different from the one about which the news article is being written.   He can’t help it.  He hasn’t walked in the other guys shoes.  The reader also enters in with his own perspective.  There is going to be a lot of information lost and a lot of information assumed in the translation.

The reporter likely has constraints about which the audience knows nothing.  For one thing the reporter is limited on space.  It’s very difficult to tell a story that took a year to develop in a few short paragraphs.  Have you ever noticed how many people write books?  I’m certain that each publication has guidelines which the reporters must abide by, and I’m quite sure the reporter is supposed to report the facts that can be verified, rather than just inform us of people’s opinions.

My story began almost two years ago in early November, 2008.  I’ve had plenty of opportunities to put my story out there, but I’ve turned all of them down. For the past year it has been strongly suggested by many that I head to the media to get something done about a problem that seems to have no solution.  While I liked the idea of cutting through the bureaucratic red tape from which I could not escape, I knew that a media circus would not benefit my son’s recovery from war injuries, nor did I see the value in broadcasting our family name across the air waves.  I felt that move would be synonymous with waving a red flag at a bull.

Just recently, I finally agreed to an interview with Hope Hodge, a reporter from the Jacksonville Daily News.  Hope and I have talked several times over the past six months, but I never felt that it was the right time to give her the green light for the story.  I only had one purpose, that being to ensure that our wounded Marines get the health care they deserve. I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my own son’s recovery so I waited.

Over the past year, I’ve paid close attention to the newspaper in Jacksonville.  More interesting than the actual articles published are the comments made by the readers.  Because a large percentage of Jacksonville’s population is directly related to the Marine Corps, it doesn’t take much to ascertain that the Corps defines the population. Whether people are part of it, or just surrounded by it, they are defined by it, at least to some extent, whether they realize it or not. This isn’t a negative, but it likely explains the perspective from which news is digested.

After careful consideration, I decided that Jacksonville, North Carolina, was NOT the right place to make my media splash.  If I was going to put myself out there, I didn’t want to start with a place where I would be eaten for lunch by the stalkers who have nothing better to do than rip innocent people to shreds.  The negative and defensive tone was made very clear to me when a Marine committed suicide in a public place last May.  His widow, unlike most people in her situation, was willing to put herself out there to call attention to the issues of PTSD, TBI, and suicide in the military.  She didn’t want anyone else to suffer as she and her children had done, but that is not what the Jacksonville crowd understood.  They played the role of judge and jury knowing nothing about what it was like to walk in her shoes.

When Hope called me again three weeks ago, I simply said NO.  I had made this decision two months prior, so it was easy to just spit my answer right out when she called.  I wasn’t even listening to her after I’d said my rehearsed lines….until I heard her saying something about the Inspector General’s office and Congressman Jones. I asked her to repeat herself and I finally realized that she was calling because she had discovered that I had been working with Congressman Jones and had recently been interviewed by the Department of Defense Inspector General’s assessment team.

It was at that point that I realized maybe it was for such a time as this that I had been waiting.  I still did NOT want to see my name in the morning paper.  All I really wanted to do was close the door on this nightmare and never look back.  My son finally got his medical discharge at the end of August.  He’s been a veteran for almost six weeks.  He still has a long road to recovery, but he never has to go back to that wounded warrior facility.  I can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel where I might actually get my own life back.  Now that he’s out, I can stop taking notes, making phone calls, writing letters, and doing research.  I can stop lying awake at night wondering if my son is ever going to make it out of that place alive……

But then I remember the others left behind.  I see their faces and I hear their voices. I hear their stories rushing through my mind.  I think about all the Marines who aren’t even injured yet; the ones bravely serving in Afghanistan who will inevitably end up assigned to WWBN-East. I think about their families and the pain that they might go through if I just take the easy route back to my normal life at home.   I think about all the hard work, and the countless hours that Congressman Jones,and his military liaison, Jason Lowry have put in, trying to bring attention to the problems with the purpose of making positive changes.  I think about some of the moms and wives I’ve met who have become my dear friends.  We’ve been walking a difficult road together and I can’t leave them back there on their own.  It also occurs to me that if I walk away now, and someone else takes their own life, I will have to add myself to the list of those accountable who stood by and did nothing.

Almost everyone in this situation is afraid to speak up.  They know the result is command retaliation.  They have all seen what happened to my son because I got fed up and spoke up anyway, without my son’s permission.  I had no idea when I first started out on this mission that I would put my son at risk.  I have learned over the past year, just how naive I have been simply trusting that the United States Marine Corps is going to “take care of their own.”  Once I discovered the Corps did not have my son’s best interest at heart, it was too late to turn back.  Once exposed, I had no choice but to keep moving forward.  Others saw the risks I was taking and were cheering me on, but were afraid to stand up beside me.  I’ll admit that this bothered me a bit at first, but I knew I had the truth on my side and I knew I couldn’t let my son, or the others down.  Some of us are called to play a supportive role.  Some of us are called to blaze the trail.  Most of us blazing the trail have no desire to be there but somehow we end up holding the torch. For those who make judgment calls about the torch bearers, I challenge you to pick one up, and walk the walk.  Only then do you have the right to spew your venom at people like me who are taking all the risks and doing all the work to make changes.

In spite of my son’s pleas for me to keep my mouth shut, I disobeyed my “Marine Mom Orders”.  His life was at stake and I had no choice.  The biggest fear throughout this entire situation has been knowing I was putting my relationship with my son in jeopardy.  I was breaking the most important rule he had ever given me.  Don’t call the Corps. Ever.  My mother’s gut kept telling me to call, and eventually, instinct won and I decided that I could repair and restore the relationship if need be, but I could not bring back a life lost.

A humvee explosion redefined my son’s life, but it was a subtle redefinition, and like so many who carry the invisible wounds of war, he suffered in silence. Not even his family knew for a very long time.  When he began to struggle, he didn’t tell us.  When he did finally ask for help, he didn’t tell us about the scrutiny he received from the command.  He didn’t tell us about the multitude of medications that were thrown at him.  He didn’t talk about how bad it felt to have no purpose now that he was unable to do his job that he trained so hard to get.  He didn’t tell us any of it because he didn’t want us to worry about him.  He really believed he would be able to get past the problems, once he transferred to Wounded Warrior Battalion.  After all, that was where everyone got the best medical treatment, or so he thought.  When he first transferred in, it was supposed to be for 90 days.  He honestly thought that in 90 days he would be back in MarSOC, back on his team, and everything would be back in order.

For the past five years up to that point, I never called the Marines.  Not while he was in boot camp, not while he was deployed the first time, the second time, or the third time.  I never called his infantry unit and I never called MarSOC.  Never!  Moms don’t call the Marine Corps.  Everyone knows that!  In fact, I didn’t even call the Marine Corps for the first two months my son was assigned to WWBN-East. I’ve heard all those feel good stories about wounded warriors getting great care with state of the art equipment and top doctors, and I was a bit confused when a satisfaction survey arrived in my mailbox one afternoon.  The survey was asking me to share how I felt about the care my son was receiving and the communication going on between the command and our family.  It was at that point I became angry enough to start making phone calls.  I did it without my son’s blessing and I also did it with great fear knowing the risk I was taking.

At first, I believed everything they fed me.  Most of the information didn’t really make sense, but I had complete trust in the Marine Corps.  Unfortunately, the more I began to pay attention, the more I realized that things really weren’t adding up so I started asking pointed questions and taking notes.  It wasn’t long before I realized that it wasn’t just one bad leader who needed to be reminded of how to do his job.  It was an entire system of leaders who didn’t know how to solve a very big problem.  It became obvious that they just kept shoving everything under the rug.  Funny how the rug won’t lay flat once too much garbage has been shoved underneath.

I don’t think anyone really set out to intentionally do anything wrong.  I just think too many people came home injured.  Too many people came home with invisible wounds.  Too many people were taking too many pills. The war didn’t end.  People redeployed. The caseload was too big and no one knew what to do.  It was easier to ignore the problem at first, hoping they would go away or that someone else would come along and fix it.

Unfortunately, when the problems became obvious, and people were put in place to take action, many of these people didn’t do their jobs.  They weren’t suited for the task at hand, and they didn’t dare risk their own careers to admit that to anyone.  No one was willing to reinvent the wheel.  They just kept trying to solve problems in the same old way because after all, it’s the way it has always been done. If it works for war, it will work for everything else!

To some in leadership, a leadership position at WWBN-East might just be a less than desired assignment that will end with time.  Maybe it’s easy for them to leave it at the office when they go home each night, but for those who suffer with war’s injuries, this is life, 24/7.  In the past year, I’ve informed officers of specific situations that were downright abusive.  They have looked me in the eye and told me that if anyone in their command was committing those actions, they would be disciplined and held accountable.  They told me they just needed names and then they would take action.  Imagine the courage it took, after an entire year, to give up the names.  Imagine the rage felt when, after saying the name out loud, the officer looked me in the eye and said, “Well, I can’t just destroy a career because of what you are saying.”

I insist that I can back this up but he doesn’t want my evidence.  As he said, he can’t just destroy a Marine’s career.  Hmm. Has he noticed that he IS destroying a Marine’s career? Why is one Marine more important than another?   Since when doesSemper Fidelis only apply to officers?  If I’ve got to choose the most valuable Marine, from where I’m standing the Marine with the most value is the one I brought into this world.  I’m not really too worried about the career of the guy who’s abusing his position.

So, as I was saying, no one set out to intentionally do anything wrong, but somewhere along the way, people started looking the other way, covering up mistakes, and the result is lives destroyed.  You’re excused if you don’t know there is a problem, but once you do, if you don’t do your part to fix it, you are an accessory to the crime.  A good leader puts all of his men before himself. The meaning of the expression “The Few, The Proud” is starting to make a lot more sense to me these days and it’s not a positive feeling I get when I think about it.

My son still doesn’t want me to say anything, even though he is medically retired and no longer serving.  He just wants to get on with his life.  He is certain that if I continue to push for change in the battalion, his buddies who must still live there will pay the price with command retaliation.  I know I’m onto something.  The Marines have fought too hard to discredit me and shut me up.  I just can’t walk away and leave other people hanging.   I guess my biggest fear is that my son would be able to look at me one day and say, “I told you so.”  Maybe he is right.  Maybe there is just no way to fix a problem this big.  I sure hope he’s wrong.

**********************

Considering the fact that the Jacksonville Daily Newsreporter, Hope Hodge, had two years worth of facts to squeeze into one article, one can’t expect her to get every single detail correct.  She did a good job considering she didn’t live through the experience herself.  I will, however, set the record straight on the issues brought forth in the article, “Team Surveys Wounded Warrior Battalion as Troubling Reports Mount.”

** My son was not sent to WWBN to battle severe depression. He asked for help and requested the transfer there because he had symptoms suggesting that he had a traumatic brain injury and he was also exhibiting symptoms of PTSD.  His case manager at MarSOC suggested that he could get a diagnosis and treatment more quickly if he were assigned to WWBN-East. This would speed up the process so he could return to his job.  He had reenlisted and trained for over a year to be a MarSOC Special Operator.  He had the job of his dreams, and he was good at it.  He wanted to get better and get back to work.  He was never depressed a day in his life until he followed doctor’s orders and took his prescribed medications.  (Take a moment and research the side effects of the medications typically prescribed to our troops for PTSD, anxiety, etc.)

** The changes in his personality, which were mentioned in the article, were a direct result of medications prescribed.  Medical tests later proved that fact.

** Thirty bottles of pills was a fact given to our family by the doctor that discovered our son was being overmedicated.  No one has ever stated that he was taking all of them at once.  I honestly don’t know the answer to that question. He was asked to bring his medications in so the doctor could figure out what was going on.  He did what he was asked.  Extensive testing proved the medications were causing many of his problems.

** With regard to the comment about the nickname Elvis, there is a long story behind it, therefore it doesn’t belong in the article because it can’t be explained.  Rather than try to understand it, one should disregard it altogether.  You can read about it when the book comes out.

** There were not repeated complaints made by my son.  As I have explained, I went forward without my son’s permission.  If I had listened to him, and done things his way, he would still be sitting in the Wounded Warrior Battalion waiting on his med board, or worse, he might be dead.  There isn’t a mother out there who loves their child who would leave them sitting in a situation that was destroying him.  Shame on the mother who would look the other way just because the Marine Corps views the individual as a piece of property.

** The Information Paper was released by the Headquarters Marine Corps not the Wounded Warrior Regiment,after they spent several months investigating only one side of the story – their side.  All information stated in the document was irrelevant to our situation and had nothing to do with our case.  It was just a variety of statements pulled out of publications and off websites, which was organized into a four page document.

** My fourteen page rebuttal was sent directly to the Commandant, his legislative assistant at the time, and all of the lawmakers who were involved in the inquiry in March.  By the time I wrote the rebuttal, I had given up on the Wounded Warrior Regiment entirely.

A brand new building is not the answer to the problems at hand, therefore I don’t know why it was mentioned in the article.  If you go there for a “tour” that is likely all you will hear about.  Anyone I’ve ever met gets the tour.  They leave talking about the facility and all the future plans, and have no idea they didn’t get any information about what is actually going on now. I got a tour of the facility and told the commanding officer that I would prefer my son live in his old barracks if he could be treated with dignity and respect.

**The conditions are not “better than ever” for everyone.  There are still many problems in the battalion.  I’ve been told about some problems just this week, and the word “retaliation” was used in the description.

** For the record, when I shared the fourteen page rebuttal with Hope Hodge, I blacked out every single name.  I told her that I would only agree to the interview and be mentioned in the article if she kept my son’s name out of the article altogether.  I told her that I chose to leave the names out simply because it was my intent that this article will be about the issues and not a “he said, she said” fiasco.  Once names are mentioned, people start defending themselves rather than addressing the issues.  That has been the problem from the beginning.  As much as I would like to see some of these people be held accountable for the lives they have destroyed, it is far more important to get to the root of the many problems and find solutions which will make lives better rather than destroy them.  From the defensiveness of some of the comments made by online readers, it is apparent that I’ve struck a nerve.

I wish I could remove my son completely from this entire ordeal.  Unfortunately, the very fact that I am the mother is what gives me the credibility to speak out.  I can’t expect my next door neighbor to do it.  He doesn’t know what’s going on.  If I speak anonymously, everything will be denied.  I have to identify myself and that has been the hardest part of this whole thing.  If I had just ignored the entire situation, my son would likely be dead and others as well.  If you can’t see the sacrifice in this situation, then you don’t understand the meaning of the word from the personal perspective of truly sacrificing your privacy and your family life for a cause greater than yourself.  If you haven’t figured out by now that it is not about me, then let me remind you that I’ve had the opportunity to go forward to the national media more than once.  I don’t need my “15 minutes of fame”.  I just need my son back and while I’m working on it, I’m going to see if I can help a few other families retrieve their Marines too.

I don’t want one more Marine to go through the same situations that my son faced.  Even with TBI and PTSD, he would have been far better off had he never darkened the door of WWBN-E, for the command climate was far more devastating to his recovery than his actual injuries.  Our story must serve the purpose of saving the lives of those who are there now, as well as those who will end up at WWBN in the future.  We must restore honor to the Marines who have already had their dignity stripped away from them.  It’s the least we can do after all they have done for us through their service.

Originally published by the author on fellednot.com.

Dear Victor,

When you commented on my blog post a month ago, Silence Among the Generals, I couldn’t decide if I should delete it or leave it there.  I can handle a negative comment, but I’ve got to admit – It’s hard to leave a comment sitting on my own personal blog page that attacks me personally as a mother and an advocate.  There is nothing I am more serious about than dedicating my life to raising my children and supporting our troops and veterans through the nonprofit I started a few years ago. I’ve never been paid a dime for either of these jobs which happen to consume me 24/7; it’s not about the money.  Loving my kids and honoring our troops and veterans is like oxygen for me.

After a lot of consideration, I’ve finally decided to leave your comment on my page because, based on your comments, you seem to personify the picture I have in my mind of someone who has suffered far too long with PTSD. I know you are angry and believe it or not, I do understand why.  If I were wearing your shoes, I’d likely feel the same way.

You are likely right when you state that my letter to the general was too long, however, if you knew the entire story, and all the background that goes along with it, you would understand that the letter just barely opens the window to the enormous problem facing our nation.

You are mistaken when you think I have not been able to get attention to this issue.  I have gotten the attention of quite a few people in high places.  I haven’t gotten national media attention up to this point, and that has been deliberate.  If I wanted it, I would have sought it out a long time ago.  I want the kind of attention that actually makes a difference.  If the media covers it at some point, it is my hope that it will be because positive changes have been brought about for the care of our wounded warriors suffering with invisible wounds.

After trying to get my son the help he deserved and needed for almost a year, I went on to spend an additional year fighting the system with the aid of Congressman Walter Jones.  I started at the source of the problem and moved up the chain of command. When those efforts failed, I exercised my right to contact lawmakers. It is because of those efforts that I ended up at the Department of Defense Inspector General’s office.  I had to wait patiently for six more months while the DoD IG reviewed my information, for they had to decide if it was indeed valuable enough to pursue.

As it turns out, it was valuable to them.  Not only did the DoD IG’s office take a look at it, but they also decided that my documentation had enough merit to cause them to consider assessing more than just one wounded warrior unit.  Though you feel that I have “added to the harm in the case of my son” and that my actions “just serve to bring back what needs to stay buried”, I beg to differ.  As I write this, numerous units have undergone assessment, including an assessment of the Wounded Warrior Battalion East at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. I might also mention that some of the assessment team members came to my hometown, 600 miles away from Camp Lejeune, to interview me for several days.

The DoD IG’s assessment teams will make recommendations based on their findings.  These recommendations will likely have a positive effect on wounded warrior care across the entire nation.  Frankly, I don’t see the harm in this outcome.

Did I mention that I was asked, by a high ranking official at the DAV, to write up a brief on my concerns about the health care?  I had to wait three months for a response, but I’m happy to report that they are pursuing a solution to these problems.

You have stated that if your mother were still alive, she would take a cane to me because of my actions.  I won’t deny that your harsh statement hurt me at first, but then I remembered that you are a veteran suffering with PTSD. You’ve got a lifetime of emotion tied up in that comment.  I realize that no one stood up for you when you came back from Vietnam and I am sorry about that.  I didn’t know your mother any better than you know my son, but I’m sure she loved you.  I’m sure she would have fought just as hard as I have fought for my own son, if the world had been a different place back in the days that you returned home from war.

I took some time to read and reread your advice for me, as well as your statements about how well you are handling your own PTSD.  I truly desire to help our wounded and I am very willing to make a realistic assessment of my actions.  If they are not helpful I need to make changes immediately!

I believe I need to set the record straight since you don’t know the entire situation.  One thing I’d like for you to know is simply the fact that I don’t force my son to talk about anything.  I know better than anyone that I am not qualified to help him through this battle.  That is part of the reason I am working hard to start a VET2VET program here in my town.  Maybe you should visit my website and get more familiar with some of the things I’m trying to do to help those in my community, like yourself, who deal with the demons of war.

The other thing I’d like to point out is that, while I don’t know all of the facts, I’m not totally comfortable with the fact that you are “functioning just fine.”  You admitted to having an extremely short fuse which causes you to go into self-defense mode if provoked.  You used the analogy of a “wild creature striking out if cornered or attacked.”  You said you had a “bucket list” that you keep in your head and that “it is out of respect for our laws that some people are still breathing.”

These statements suggest that you are not fine, but that you are, in fact, filled with rage.  Frankly, I don’t blame you one bit for being angry.  You gave this country your life from the time you were eighteen until you were twenty-one.  Though you were not called to physically pay the ultimate price, I would dare to say that your life has never been the same.  In my book, you did, in fact, make the ultimate sacrifice.  After serving your country, and seeing atrocities that most of us will never understand, you’ve been living in your own private hell for years, and no one has done anything of any real significance to help you move forward.

I know you think I just wasted the past two years of my life and caused my son undue stress, but I prefer to think of it as spending the past two years of my life working hard to make a difference in the life of my son and the lives of our troops.  I know that my own son’s circumstances were the initial motivating factor behind my involvement, but in the end, it’s about so much more.  The more I tried to help my son, the more I realized that it wasn’t just him that needed help.  This is a problem of national proportion and it has been going on for decades!

It would be really easy for me to just shut the door on this issue and go back to my regular life, for my son has finally been released from that nightmare.  For the first time, as a veteran, rather than a piece of property owned by the Marine Corps, he has a chance to get some real help. Unfortunately, I just can’t walk away because I don’t want one more individual to return home to poor care, dishonor, and destruction.  I don’t want one more individual like yourself, to suffer in silence for the next thirty to forty years.

I’m far too old to enlist and go to combat.  I’m also too scared.  I don’t have what it takes to be on the front lines of war.  I am in awe of people like you, who do have the guts to serve in our military.  I am so grateful that others will stand up and serve on my behalf.  So, since I am unable to serve our nation in the same way that you have, I figure the best I can do is to serve right here at home.  I’ll never stop fighting for our troops and our veterans.  I will do whatever it takes to make sure that health care for our warriors suffering with the invisible wounds is the best available.  You, sir, deserve to have the best possible care and treatment because you have given your all for our nation.  I am forever grateful for your sacrifice.

Originally posted on open.salon.com

(Originally published by the author on fellednot.com) 

Dear General Amos,

I know that you are a very busy man.  You have an enormous responsibility and there are probably never enough hours in your day, therefore,I will thank you right up front, for giving my letter your time and attention.  It is greatly appreciated.

I have recently become aware of your determination to take care of our Marines who have willingly stepped up to serve our nation and as a result of their service, have found themselves disabled by Post Traumatic Stress and/or Traumatic Brain Injury.  I am very optimistic, knowing that you will have the opportunity to influence the way these invisible wounds are viewed and currently treated.  If you are willing to take an honest look at PTSD and TBI, and the current problems with ongoing care and treatment for these conditions, and if you are willing to demand that those Marines who suffer from these wounds be treated with the same respect and care given to those with severe physical injuries, I believe that you will be effectively saving thousands of lives.

I know that the experience with SSgt Ownbey was life changing, not just for him, but for you as well.  I recently had the privilege of reading Greg Jaffe’s article in The Washington Post,  Military Reckons with the Mental Wounds of War. I was immediately struck by the obvious compassion you had for Ssgt Ownbey’s situation, and especially by the fact that you knew something needed to be done and it needed to be done now.

Because you had the opportunity to see the MRAP and meet the Marines who survived the explosion back in 2007, and because you happened to be at Bethesda Naval Hospital on that day two years later, SSgt Ownbey became more than just another Marine serving under your leadership.  You basically got the “before” and “after” picture because at the time of your original meeting, everything with SSgt Ownbey appeared to be fine.  When you stepped into his hospital room, you immediately saw the physical affects that resulted from the traumatic brain injury, but I believe that you were also affected deeply by the emotional toll that the invisible wounds had taken on SSgt Ownbey and his wife.

Fascinated by your compassion for SSgt Ownbey, I decided to dig a bit further into your views and efforts with regard to PTSD and TBI. I discovered a video clip of your keynote speech given at the Partnership for Military Medicine Symposium on November 6, 2009.  (I use the word fascinated because it is my belief that you are in the minority with regard to military leadership.)  I heard the words of introduction spoken by LtGen Eric Schoomaker.

It is my hope that our military leaders do, in fact, serve, first and foremost, the medic and the soldier in the field. LtGen Schoomaker described you as a one who “has never forgotten the pain, suffering, and trauma of the Marine on the ground who guts through the difficult tasks set before him.”  As you partner with Gen. Peter Chiarelli, you are seen “as a force and conscience that will likely deliver to the Marine and his family, timely, effective, evidence-based devices and practices that will protect them, save their lives, and restore them fully to function.”

I have the utmost respect for your leadership because you appear to possess humility.  You are willing to admit that things are not perfect and you are willing to learn from past mistakes.  Yes, we, as a nation were ill prepared. As you have said, no one knew that the war would last eight years and counting.  No one knew that so many would survive their injuries because of the advances made in technology and medicine.  No one knew that this fearless “Millennium Generation” would serve numerous deployments. No one ever thought that the numbers would be so staggering and as you stated, “We had not thought about how we were going to take care of families and parents and wives.”

Gen. Amos, I know it took a lot of courage for you to tell those listening to you at the symposium that SSt Ownbey “lost his life in the two years that followed” the IED explosion. Even more courageous was the truth of these words, “I’ll be honest with you, we let him down. and I’ll just leave it at that.”

Yes, at first, the system did let SSgt Ownbey down, but when he was brought to your attention, you did something about it.  Your actions exemplified the motto, Semper Fidelis. You did the right thing, and now SSgt Ownbey will get the medical care he needs. Your attention to his situation will make a difference in his life as well as in the lives of his family members.

Imagine, Gen. Amos, if you had not taken the time to go see SSgt Ownbey.  He had asked to see you, but what if you were too busy that day? Or what if you had made a brief visit and walked out the door, never looking back?  What if you had not met him two years before?  What if you could not witness the obvious changes in SSgt Ownbey that had taken place?  What then?  Where would he be today and what quality of life might he have?  What about his wife?  She said, “You guys got him home, but it was like watching a slow death happening.” Her words chill me to the bone because that is what has happened to my Marine and many others like him.

When I compare SSgt Ownbey’s story with that of my Marine, I see many similarities.  My Marine also survived numerous blasts during his first two deployments in 2005 and 2006.  He’s got a photograph of his truck, just after one of the worst explosions.  The Marines all managed to walk away that day, celebrating because they were alive to tell about the experience.  I even got a phone call from him.  The command wanted the Marines to call their families rather than hear about the explosion through the grapevine, figuring that this would prevent panic on the home front.  The fact that the Marines were knocked unconscious, had headaches, and experienced nausea seemed irrelevant at the time.  They were Marines and they wanted to get right back to work.  Back in 2005, no one was checking them carefully or asking them to rest their brains.  Nobody knew that in time their balance, memory, judgment, and reasoning would become more and more difficult to control.  No one was looking for these symptoms.  When the symptoms manifested themselves in behaviors viewed as ‘out of character’, no one thought to find out why these men no longer seemed to be themselves.

Another similarity in SSgt Ownbey’s story that struck me was that of the pothole. If you recall, it caused him to drive across a neighbor’s lawn in an effort to avoid the possibility of driving over what looked to be a hole that contained a roadside bomb.  On the day my Marine returned to Camp Lejeune from his second deployment, I was driving along Holcomb Boulevard.  He was sitting in the front passenger seat.  In mid-sentence, he becomes silent and turns ashen. His posture is immediately different. He utters a small scream and I nearly drive off the road.  He quickly realizes that what he thought was an IED was actually a Burger King bag that had been discarded on the roadside.  I didn’t even notice the bag. We all see garbage on the side of the road. The experience left my son shaken, but he did not want to talk about it.  Later it would be revealed to me that his unit had just spent 7 months looking for IED’s every single day.  They found hundreds of them during their tour.  Even more interesting to me than my son’s reaction was the fact that when we met several of his buddies for dinner later that evening, they were all talking about the Burger King bag.  One little bag had been scaring the life out of the Marines all day long.

I recall another night, in the wee hours, when my son wandered into my bedroom.  He was home on leave. He had a nightmare. He thought he was in Iraq.  My husband and I were frightened.  We weren’t sure if we should wake him.  We’ve heard that’s not such a good idea.  With gentle coaxing we were able to reach him and show him that he was safe at home, on leave, but we could see that deployment experiences were weighing heavy on his mind.

On another evening, my son was standing with several of us in his uncle’s backyard.  There was a six foot privacy fence standing between us and the neighbor’s yard.  We heard their voices but had no idea, until we heard the boom, what they were doing next door.  Naturally, we were all a bit startled, but our Marine flew into combat mode.  Before we had a chance to take it all in, he had gone over the six foot fence and tackled a woman, thinking he was protecting her from the IED that was going off in her backyard.

We knew things weren’t normal, but our Marine was training for MarSOC by then. We had heard that everyone had these issues after returning from combat.  He wouldn’t talk about it except to say he wasn’t going to tell anyone he had a few nightmares or that he was startled by fireworks and Burger King bags. It was just a part of the job.

Just as there are many similarities in the stories of SSgt Ownbey and my Marine, there are also many differences.  The most striking difference is simply the fact that you can not see any physical evidence of my Marine’s injuries.  Fortunately, his brain injury does not involve his endocrine system and we are grateful that that he does not have to fight that particular battle.  Instead, he fights one that is surely as difficult, perhaps even more so, because in most situations, if the wounds can not be seen, they simply could not exist.  If they don’t exist, then they can’t be treated.  If they can’t be treated, then they can’t be overcome, and no healing will ever take place.

Nothing in this world is perfect, General, but when a problem is brought to one’s attention, and that problem involves the quality of life and medical care for another who has stood willing to give his life for our nation, what type of leader simply turns and walks away?  You have referred to Gen. Chiarelli as your soul mate.  You both agree that “PTSD is not a figment of someone’s imagination”, but rather “a cruel physiological thing.”  You have agreed that PTSD and TBI are real injuries that demand immediate care. You have sought the expertise of military and civilian doctors and have admitted to being frustrated over the fact that no one could agree on anything at a meeting set up for the sole purpose of solving this problem.  I believe Gen. Chiarelli described the meeting as “three hours of hell”.

I recently had the privilege of participating in a discussion on suicide prevention with Colonel Christopher Philbrick, director of the Army Suicide Prevention Task Force.  He spoke highly of the determination that you and Gen. Chiarelli have for solving the mental health crisis in our military.  This gives me hope.

I’m pleased to see that research has revealed more insight into the reality of PTSD and TBI. I’m pleased to know that our military is serious about facing the problem head on, and that adjustments are being made during training, prior to deployment, as well as in theater.  I’m impressed with the fact that leaders such as yourself and Gen. Chiarelli are determined to educate and foster awareness so that those new to military service will not have to experience the deplorable care that has existed, in many cases, up to this point in time.

General, I must now ask you to answer this question.  What will you do for those who are still suffering, whom have not been brought to your attention?  What will you do to eradicate the stigma?  Sir, do you realize that the stigma is far more damaging to the lives of your Marines than the actual brain injury or the battle with Post Traumatic Stress?

How would you handle a situation if you knew that one of your officers, a man chosen to lead by example, was chastising Marines because of the way they were dealing with depression?  Would you allow it to continue?  Would you look the other way because this man was regarded with importance?  Would you confront this leader?  Would you believe what he had to say with blind faith when he gave his version of the story or would you take the time to find out something about the young enlisted Marine who was struggling and what was causing the behavior in question?

What if you found out that this leader and his staff NCO’s were running their unit for Wounded Warriors like a victory unit?  Would you be more concerned for the order and discipline of the unit or would you be more concerned for the health and welfare of the patients?  Would your concern for what people might think of the Marine Corps care of wounded warriors be more important than the lives of a few enlisted men who could easily be explained away as behavior problems?

Would you be concerned if you found out that prescribed medications were destroying your Marines?  Would the hair on the back of your neck stand up at the thought that some of these men have come close to death because they were taking their medications as directed by their doctors?  Would you send one of your Marines, or better yet, one of your own children, to an inpatient PTSD program, halfway across the country from Camp Lejeune, just because it was listed as approved by Tricare?  If he were your child, and if you knew the government had paid the quarter-million dollar price tag to have him trained for Special Forces, would you just pick a program off of a list or would you investigate the program prior to sending your child into lockdown?  It is my belief that you would protect your child and your investment.

How long would it take you to wonder why someone good enough to become a part of MarSOC was now being brought to your attention as just another problem child who needed to be discarded?  Would you make all of your decisions based on the small amount of information in front of you, or would you go back in this Marine’s service record and take a look at who he was before his injury?  Would you simply look online at his service record, or would you take a few minutes to call his former commander and get to know something about this kid who served three deployments?  Would you consider calling his next of kin to find out some history on this Marine? Would you dig long enough to find out that he had wanted to be a Marine since he was old enough to know Marines existed?   Would you learn that he entered the Corps through the Delayed Entry Program?  Would you know that he worked at the recruiting center for a full year before he graduated from high school?  While others were paid to work in the high school co-op program, he received nothing but the benefit of being around Marines.  Would you learn that he turned 18 at boot camp, 19 in Falllujah, 20, again in Fallujah, 21 training for MarSOC after reenlisting, 22 deployed again, 23 in a hospital setting that turned his life upside down, and recently turned 24 with the realization that Semper Fidelis is just a bumper sticker on the back of a few cars aboard Camp Lejeune, North Carolina?

Would you take the time to find out that this Marine was given great responsibility, that he had been through many challenges, that he, like many others, had dealt with the loss of buddies, been blown up a dozen times, lost a roommate and teammate to suicide, and lost a fiancee who just couldn’t take it when PTSD and TBI became the dominant force in his life?  Would you take the time to discover that his once close relationship to his family had drastically deteriorated?

Would you take the time to talk to his doctors and ask some questions?  Would your interest lead you to discover that he begged for help for months?  Would you come to know that he complained about his medications and said they weren’t working?  Would you believe it when the doctor told you that this young man was doing his own research trying to find help?  Would it surprise you to know that many of these Marines turn to substance abuse just to get through the day, the night, or even the hour?  I know you are aware of the magnitude of the problem, Sir.  We are all aware of it.

Corps leadership has promised that the stigma is gone and leaders practice an open door policy.  I’ve read all the leadership guides for Marines in distress. I’ve read the materials on suicide prevention.  I’ve watched the videos that are shown to the Marines.  You have a great plan!  Sadly, there has been no plan to develop accountability.  You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.  Just because all hands must sit through training sessions on how to handle delicate situations doesn’t mean that those who walk out the door will actually adopt these new practices.  The Marine Corps is a war machine.  There just isn’t any place for someone who appears weak.  Not only is this true in infantry battalions, but it is true in the Wounded Warrior Battalion as well.

Those with physical wounds are viewed as heroes.  Most have battled long and hard to get to a point where they have left specialty hospitals and are assigned back to Camp Lejeune.  They should be viewed as heroes.  But why is it that if the wound can’t be seen, it simply must not exist?  Why is it that the invisible wounds are shamed and written off as malingering, bad behavior, or personality disorders?

It would be my assumption that leaders are carefully chosen for each battalion.  The man who commands each unit must be experienced in his field and he should have proved himself as one who is capable of doing his job.  I would also make the assumption that he would be constantly re-evaluated.  Should he take his unit to the front lines, he is ultimately responsible for every life in the battalion.  If he is not performing well, he will likely be removed and replaced.  Men of all ranks have been relieved of their duties.

What about the man who runs a unit for the wounded?  What are his qualifications?  Is it simply being wounded?  Is it simply an infantry commander who needs to fulfill his B-Billet for promotion? Does he have any experience in medicine or counseling?

Would you hire your gardener to perform your open heart surgery?  Would you allow your best infantry commander to do your root canal?  If the answer to both of those questions is no, Gen. Amos, I believe that you wouldn’t allow an angry, disgruntled, wounded Marine to lead your wounded warriors.  He’s got too many of his own issues and he’s not the right man for the job.  As well, your B-Billet leader is secretly marking the days off his calendar the minute he gets home each night.  He’s just looking ahead to the next assignment.  This assignment is simply a stepping stone in life’s path.

General Amos, I realize that this is far too lengthy, but Sir, I just do not know where to go from here or how I can scream loud enough for my voice to be heard.  I have spent the past 20 months desperately trying to help my son.  At this point in my letter, you should know him almost as well as you knew SSgt Ownbey the day you saw him at the hospital.  Once a proud Marine, willing to give his life for his country and for his brothers-in-arms, my son is but a shadow of the young man who signed his commitment on the dotted line seven years ago.  Worse than suffering TBI, worse than suffering with PTSD, worse than being removed from his position and being forced to walk away from his career, worse than losing his fiancee, worse than being misdiagnosed, and misunderstood, worse than any of it is the reality that this Marine Sergeant was destroyed by none other than his own, the US Marine Corps.

This Sergeant was drugged by his own doctors, a victim of overlapping drug side effects, who, even when reported to doctors and leaders, was ignored.  This Sergeant was virtually ignored when he arrived at Wounded Warrior Battalion-East. This Sergeant was subject to screaming sessions dished out by disgruntled NCO’s.  This Sergeant was treated with disrespect and forced to watch his friends endure the same.  This Sergeant was humiliated publicly.  This Sergeant was made to endure Alpha inspections and watch his comrades be ridiculed for being overweight, no longer able to fit into their uniforms because of medications or the forced lack of exercise dictated by their injuries. This Sergeant was told that he was a “poor excuse for a Marine” by his Captain in a room where NCO’s stood by and witnessed the event.  Two days later when he attempted to take his life, as any “worthless Marine” would, no one came to his aide though I, his mother, called repeatedly begging for help.  This Sergeant asked for help and was demoted for being honest.  This Sergeant was a victim of sloppy drug testing or, perhaps, set up to take the fall.

Why, you ask, is this just now coming to your attention?  It’s certainly not because we haven’t tried to speak out.  It’s because no matter what we do, we are shoved aside.  We are ignored.  We are discredited.  We are blamed.  We are, more than likely, framed.

For over a year, I have been trying to help my son get the help he desperately needs. If the first person had responded properly, our lives would be very different.  Instead, problems within the command were ignored.  The louder we shouted, the more stubborn leaders became.  As we rose through the ranks, the responses became more and more absurd.  We asked lawmakers to inquire on our behalf.  They did.  Things got worse.  With the support of Congressman Walter Jones, we have pursued every single avenue in an attempt to have our voices heard.  We have made contact with the Commandant, the Secretary of the Navy, and countless others in powerful positions.

We have offered our documentation for review.  Not one person has ever asked to see a piece of it.  We have written documents stating specific problems and have been met with responses that are vague, untrue, and often unrelated to the subject at hand.  I’ve been met with the same condescension afforded my son by officers in WWBN-E.  I’ve spent hours talking with wounded warriors right under the noses of the leadership. I’ve spent countless hours researching care, programs, and protocol.  I honestly believe that I know more about some of the aspects of the program than those sitting in the building all day.

After initiating an inquiry in November, I received an Information Paper in February, via several congressmen, to which I wrote a lengthy rebuttal. I specifically asked Gen. Conway and BGen Simcock to dignify my letter and rebuttal with a response.  I’m still awaiting their reply.

In June, I received another Information Paper, also via lawmakers, filled with more fabricated explanations.  This document was sent to carefully chosen lawmakers, and was deliberately not sent to other carefully chosen lawmakers. Even though my son and I were the subject of the fabricated materials, we were not afforded a copy of this document from the authors.

I won’t tell you about the countless hours I’ve spent on the phone with the Lt. Colonel.  I won’t tell you how many times the truth was twisted. I’ve lost count. I’ve already heard the Lt. Colonel’s defense, but I’m not buying it and neither should you, Sir.

I believe that the main reason no one has asked to see my documentation is because there might just be some truth to all of it.  If I was to be proven correct, there would be a lot of people who would need to be held accountable.  What a mess that would be and what a frenzy for the media!  It must seem far easier to keep ignoring us…..at least for now.

It won’t be long before another suicide or drug overdose will take place.  The last one should have raised a red flag, but sadly, it just fine-tuned the art of cover up.  The warning from Dr. Kernan Manion in the spring of 2009 was not enough.  The death of Sgt. Thomas Bagosy in May of 2010 was not enough.  The 52 Marine suicides in 2009 and the rest in 2010 not mentioned here have not been enough either.

Careers are ended, families are pulled apart, and lives are destroyed.  When will there ever be enough death and despair to make some real changes?  I can tell you that my son’s life has been forever altered.  Right now I’d simply classify it as destroyed or annihilated. I’m not sure there are enough years left and enough counselors out there to  help him put the pieces of his life back together.

He’s repeatedly been told he is worthless and now he believes it to be true. He has walked the “walk of shame” for so long that he can’t find his way off the path. The self-fulfilling prophecy has proven itself effective.

He once lived by the motto, Semper Fidelis, but he was betrayed by his own.  He was brainwashed back on Parris Island to believe that his Corps would never let him down, that he could trust every Marine with his life, and that this bond was something he could find nowhere else.  What does it do to a man when he relies on something that simply doesn’t exist?  He translates the hurt and pain into all of his relationships and thus, destroys the lives of those closest to him.

My son defined himself as a Marine for most of his life.  He grew up wanting to be a Marine.  He became one who proudly wore the uniform.  He served his country well with three combat tours and six years of service.  He was willing to give all for his country and the Corps.  When he looks in the mirror he sees a Marine.  He is reminded of it when he walks out to his car.  He wears it tattooed on his skin.  It’s evidenced in his posture, and in his reflexed reaction to Taps, the National Anthem, or the sight of an officer in uniform.  So what does it do to his psyche to look in the mirror and see the representative of the very entity that has defined him and destroyed him?

It’s just like Mrs. Ownbey said, “You guys got him home, but it was like watching a slow death happening.”

Gen. Amos, I want my son back.  I gave him to the Corps for six years.  Now I just want him back.   I’ve been mourning the death of my son for over a year.  I can’t bury him and move forward because, he is still breathing. For that I am grateful, and it gives me hope.  I can’t find closure because though the man who we once knew has died, his look-alike walks in the door several days a week.  My mind and heart envision my son, but my ears hear the words of a stranger. I can no longer reach him because he isn’t the kid that grew up in my home. We, his family, his brothers and his parents, can try to restore his honor, however, I’m not sure we can do it because we are not the ones that stripped him of his dignity.

Sir, I ask you to please be open to the reality that stigma is your worst enemy.  It will destroy your Corps and it will ultimately destroy you.  At the rate these problems are growing, and the rate that we are losing Marines to the war in Afghanistan, it’s a scary thought to ponder what things will be like when you leave the office of Commandant. Be open to the fact that those whom appear to be your most loyal and dedicated leaders might only be interested in someday sitting in your seat of power.  A good leader is well respected by his lowest ranking subordinates. The leaders of WWBN-E, who have dramatically shaped my son’s life, are not well respected by those under their leadership.

It is my hope, Gen. Amos, that you will take some time to look into this situation.  It is my hope that before you go and read all of the fabricated information and listen to all the excuses, that you will listen to the rest of the story, our side of the story.

Respectfully submitted,

Proud Marine Mom

cc:   Congressman Walter Jones

Congressman Joe Sestak

Congressman Ben Chandler

Senator Jim Webb

Senator Jim Bunning

Senator Mitch McConnell

Senator Claire McCaskill

Col John L. Mayer

Gen. Peter Chiarelli

LtCol Oliver North (Ret.)

Here are three links you might be interested in watching.

Gen Amos interview with Washington Post 1

Gen Amos interview with Washington Post 2

Gen Amos Interview with Washington Post 3

(Originally published by the author on fellednot.com) 

How can I be so sure of this movie’s impact before any of us have had a chance to see it?  I’m sure because I can relate to just about everything Mary Tillman has been saying about the military’s systemic problems and the way the death of her son, Pat Tillman has been handled.  You see, they lied to the wrong family.

I am not the mother of a fallen soldier, and I don’t know what it’s like to mourn the physical death of a child, but I do know what it’s like to deal with the deception and duplicity of the military.

I do know what it’s like to see powerful military leaders go to great lengths to orchestrate evidence and events to cover up for their own errors, rather than simply admit they made a mistake.

I do know what it is like to feel disillusioned when congressional leaders look the other way rather than do the job that we elected them to do. I’ve seen, firsthand, how all of these things can destroy entire families and I’m glad that the Tillman family has had the determination to keep fighting for the truth.

It seems that some people have asked why Pat was so special and why his death got more attention than the deaths of countless other troops.  His mother, Mary, will tell you it isn’t that Pat, or his death, were more important than any other person’s death, but rather that his noteworthy career in football gave the Tillman family a voice, ‘our voice’, if you will.

Frankly, I’m thankful that the Tillman family realized that they would be negligent not to exercise ‘our voice’.  The fact that they were given the responsibility to be ‘our voice’ by something as unrelated to war as a their son’s talented football career is irrelevant.  How and why they acquired the responsibility of being ‘our voice’ is insignificant.  What they do with ‘our voice’ is monumental.

It has always driven me crazy to think that the world is full of people who are far too caught up in who’s who.  I’m typically turned off by name droppers, and I am proud to be just one of the “little people”  who stays off of social ladders to get the job done.  I have recently come to realize however, that there are times when utilizing a renown spokesperson is the only way to get ‘our voice’ heard.  If I can live with the sincerity of my intentions than I am going to make an exception to my personal rules of engagement and allow Pat Tillman’s voice to speak on my behalf.

There are countless military families who have been victims of this ‘game of life’ played so casually by our military leaders and government officials.  I’m not just referring to those who have died by fratricide, but those who have been wounded or perhaps who have been made to take the fall for another’s mistake.  Careerism is the driving force behind decisions made by powerful leaders at the top. It is with that filter most outcomes are decided.  For those at the bottom of the food chain, we have no chance of being heard if we don’t join forces with someone that has a louder megaphone than the one we have been given.

The Tillman family could have dropped this whole thing a long time ago.  Nothing they can do will ever bring their boy back.  Though they’ve likely learned to move forward, they really can’t get very far from the pain as long as they have to get up every day and jump back into this fight.  So why do they do it?   I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.

I’ve been fighting the same system for over a year.  My boy was not felled by fratricide, but he was destroyed, in a system of sloppy care for wounded warriors, by his own, those who proclaim the motto of Semper Fidelis.  The more I investigated, and the more I discovered, the uglier the game became.  The true victim, unfortunately, has been my Marine, and I don’t think I’ll ever really get him back, but I can’t deny that our entire family has suffered greatly for having taken on this burden.

Back when I first sensed that something wasn’t right, I thought it was just one fallacious captain who needed to be reminded of his obligations or perhaps, even relieved of his duties.  I made sure I had all the facts and evidence to back those facts up before I proceeded.  I knew I was stepping into dangerous and forbidden territory as mothers don’t typically get anywhere when they take on the almighty military machine, and my Marine was very hesitant to allow this to take place.  If he had not been desperate to get out of his situation, and had not come to the realization that he did not have a voice, or a better choice, he would never have looked the other way as I made my move into the game. I entered with the confidence that six months of documentation would suffice and we’d be on a better path within a week.

As soon as I stepped into the mire, I quickly realized that I was a very naive individual.  I suddenly found myself in the middle of a bad movie that wouldn’t stop.  I had never seen such lying and manipulative behavior, and I was beginning to understand what real fear feels like.  I’ve often wondered what our lives would be like if we had not taken that first step and opened Pandora’s Box, but once the step was taken there was no going back; and besides, what choice did we really have?  Our son’s life was at stake.  I guess you could say that once again, they lied to the wrong family.

It’s been a long, lonely, scary road and the answers are still hanging in the balance, but our family has come too far to turn around now, and we’ve got renewed strength and energy, thanks to the Tillman family and their efforts to find the truth no matter the cost.  Their situation is not exactly like ours, but the source of the problem is the same.  If they can expose the corruption that lies within our nation’s military leadership, the rest of us can benefit from their victory.

In her Senate testimony in 2007, Mary Tillman made many powerful statements. I’ve tried to condense the main concepts together here.   Mary said, “This isn’t about what they did to Pat……. We have an institution in place to find out what happened to him…..Pat died for his country and he believed that it was a great country……it’s your job to find out what happened to all the other soldiers……by making up all of these false stories, you are diminishing their true heroism……this is really a disservice to the nation and the nation needs to realize that this is an ugly war……everyone should be a part of what’s going on and we shouldn’t be allowed to have smoke screens thrown in our faces.”

Mary pointed out in a 2009 interview that when soldiers enlist, they know going in that they could die, be wounded, or damaged mentally or emotionally, but they don’t expect their government, and the military in which they serve, to disrespect that service by lying to their families.

Words could not be more true.  I shudder to think of how Pat Tillman would feel if he were alive today to see how this has all turned out.  I can attest to the fact that physical and mental wounds are not nearly as debilitating to the soul as the wounds inflicted by those in leadership who serve themselves rather than their country.

When Pat Tillman decided to walk away from his promising football career to enlist and serve his country, he knew that he was essentially giving up his voice.  Once a soldier has signed his name on the dotted line, he gives up his identity and becomes a piece of property owned by the US Government.  He is expected to follow orders, whether or not be believes in these actions.  He is no longer able to exercise his constitutional rights such as the right to speak freely and whether he realizes it or not, he will be dependent on outside advocates when he finds himself in the middle of a bad situation.

I’m grateful that Pat Tillman was willing to take off his Arizona Cardinals jersey, and walk away from millions of dollars just so he could put on the uniform that would allow him to serve his country as an enlisted soldier.  I’m appreciate his willingness to give up his voice for the short time he was enlisted. I’m thankful that Pat Tillman’s voice has been restored, and his family members are willing to share it, and make it ‘our voice’.

Take time to go see The Tillman Story which opens this Friday at a theater near you.  You will find even more detail in Mary Tillman’s book, Boots on the Ground by Dusk – My Tribute to Pat Tillman.

What if you had an opportunity to look through a window into a day in the life of a US Marine fighting in Afghanistan?  Would you stop and take 15 precious minutes out of your day to take a small glimpse at what this young man is doing?  Could you view his world from his perspective?  Are you willing to separate your negative feelings about war, politics, and big government to see what it’s like to wear his combat boots?

If you are courageous enough to peek inside such a window, I’d like to share a glimpse of a typical day in the life of our combat Marines who are just following orders and doing their job. There are only a couple of rules.  First, you MUST turn off your opinions. Second, you MUST truly view this window from the Marine’s perspective which includes the following:

He is young.

He is patriotic.

He enlisted because he wanted to do something good for his country.

He has grown up in a post 9/11 world.

He wants to make a difference in this big world.

He is one of the good guys and he wants to rid the world of the bad guys.

He has got people at home who love him and whom he misses desperately.

He has no idea what is going on in the rest of the world, only what is right in front of him.

He can’t make a phone call.

He can’t get on the internet.

He is tired.

He can’t sleep for the nightmares that are haunting him.

He is hot.

He is hungry.

He is thirsty.

He hasn’t taken a real shower in weeks.

He’s been wearing his uniform so long that it is stiff from the salt of his sweat.

He’s been wearing his socks so long that they have practically disintegrated.

He can’t shake the memories of his buddy dying in his arms yesterday.

He can’t shake the memories of the IED blast that nearly took his life.

He feels guilty because that blast took the legs from his sergeant two weeks ago.

He’s standing out in the middle of a field in Afghanistan.

He can’t see the enemy, but he knows he is exposed and surrounded.

He’s got months of these days behind him, and months of these days ahead of him.

He doesn’t get to make any real decisions.

He doesn’t know why an order is given. He only knows he must follow it.

He knows lives depend on his obedience.

He is frightened, but he can’t admit that, even to himself.

He can’t just decide to go home because he’s had enough.

He spends a lot of time wondering IF he will ever make it home.

Are you ready to look through the window? If you are, here is a warning. It’s hard to look through the window, but it’s something every one of us should do.   I had to force myself to stay at the window for the entire 15 minutes that it was open.  After doing so, I find myself overwhelmed with emotion.  I am filled with sadness and yet, I find myself furious at the same time.

My son is a Marine who has served three combat tours.  He is now one of our nation’s wounded warriors.  PTSD and TBI  have redefined his life.   PTSD and TBI have redefined the lives of our entire family.  The past 20 months have been long and frustrating.  We have been robbed of son and brother.  He is no longer the boy who enlisted six years ago with the idea and intent that he was going to serve and protect our nation.  After looking through this window, it is no wonder that my boy is gone.  I’ve gained a better understanding into why he is now just a shell of a man who is fighting to survive countless experiences such as this one.  Imagine…this is only one small glimpse into one small part of a day in the life of the Marines we see here.  Just one day….. and we expect them to come back and be whole and unchanged!

With whom am I furious?  Everyone out there who doesn’t care enough to try to understand the hearts and minds of those who put themselves in harm’s way.  I’m angry with those who think they support the troops by giving their opinions on the war.   I’m angry with civilians who would rather sit in judgment of those who wear the uniform than put one on themselves.  I’m angry with Americans who would rather look the other way when our veterans cry out for help.  I’m angry with the commander who would rather throw the problem out the back door because he only thinks of his career and there is simply no room for a weak link in his battalion. He has long forgotten the early days when he was wearing boots on the ground.  I’m angry at the lawmakers who have lost sight of what the Founding Fathers had in mind when they established this nation.

When you look through this window, put yourself in the boots of a Marine. In this moment, it really doesn’t matter why he signed on the dotted line.  He doesn’t have the privilege of analyzing and debating why he’s fighting this war and who gave the order.  At this point, he has to obey orders and he wants to stay alive.  He wants to keep his buddies alive.  He’s a sitting duck in the middle of a field.

How does he feel as he runs right into fear when he tries to save his buddy’s life?  How does he feel when he watches his buddy take his last breath?

Before you make any more negative comments about our troops, remember the view from this window and remember it from the Marine’s perspective rather than your own. You can’t support our troops with a negative attitude and opinionated comments.  Believe it or not, they know what you are saying. You can’t support our troops by demanding that they come home now.  Believe it or not, they can’t just pack up and come home. They are doing this for me and for you despite our government’s real purpose. Be grateful that someone is willing to do this for you.

When they finally come home, you can’t sit in judgment if they are changed and troubled.  The behavior, typically labeled as symptomatic of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, is caused by a natural emotional reaction to a deeply shocking and disturbing experience. The behavior is a normal reaction to an abnormal situation.  If we don’t try to understand WHY, we can’t possibly be supportive. The end result will be countless lives spinning out of control because there is no help to be found.

Click on the link to watch the video.  Endgame in Afghanistan: Its’ Taken a Year to Move 20 km.

Originally published by the author on fellednot.com.

Okay, the report is 350 pages long so I will admit that I have only skimmed it at this point.  I’ve been researching the issue of military suicide for quite some time so it was easy to use the table of contents to quickly find the specific information for which I was looking.

One one hand, I’m flabbergasted that a group of people could spend 15 months researching a subject and come up with such lame excuses for not really being able to point to the cause of the high suicide rate.  On the other hand, I don’t know why I would have expected anything else.

If you want the short story version of report results, here it is.  The Army has filled 350 pages with possible reasons for suicide, but does not ever come to any real conclusion as to why so many are taking their lives. The Army says that the horrors of war are not actually the cause for suicide.  It’s really not the Army’s fault either.  It has absolutely nothing to do with the stigma associated with asking for help.  It isn’t even because of the medications.  It’s simply that 1,713 people attempted suicide and 239 people successfully committed suicide and the report suggests that these 1,952 people had other reasons for taking their lives or attempting to do so, and thus the blame game begins again.

The Army is now admitting that since 2004, they have granted 80,403 waivers to people who should not have been allowed to enlist.  Over 47,000 of those granted a waiver are listed as having committed a misdemeanor or a felony or struggled with drug or alcohol abuse.  The other 33,000 probably just have some sort of physical defect.  Maybe they were overweight or perhaps they have webbed feet.  The main point here is that the Army wants us to think that those committing suicide would have probably done it anyway, even without having served. They offer up other possible reasons for suicide, but if you read the report, they just keep coming back to the waivers over and over. Seems to me that if this is where the Army wants to point the finger of blame, they are ultimately pointing back to themselves.  They should have sent the guy with webbed feet home when he entered the door of the recruiting center if he wasn’t good enough for them.

So to what kind of people would the Army issue a waiver?  What type of crimes were acceptable enough to be overlooked?  Do these crimes involve individuals who have robbed banks or are they just acts committed by immature teenagers pulling pranks? I am imagining all those high school boys who were almost disqualified from service because they were caught toilet-papering their neighbors yard would be just the type who would take their lives.  After all, they’ve been headed for trouble since they threw that first roll of Charmin over the top of the elm tree in the Smith’s backyard.

There are also those who commit acts of misconduct once in military service.  You know the type.  They deploy two or three times.  They come home, most certainly unaffected by the atrocities they have seen 24/7 for that past 365 days.  Once home, they do something simply unimaginable such as drink too much or drive too fast.  Some have even been known to oversleep and miss formation!  According to the Army, here’s no cause for this behavior other than the fact that these guys may have come from that same group of toilet-papering delinquents with webbed feet mentioned earlier.  (Don’t forget who issued the waiver in the first place.)

The Army has admitted that the commanders are overlooking misconduct because they need the able bodies to build their war machine, thus there is an increase in tolerance of high risk behavior.  I’m wondering in what form this “tolerance” defines itself.  Does tolerance mean to simply ignore the behavior?  Does tolerance mean that there is increased discipline, without administrative separation? Are they “controlling” the behavior with NJP’s (Non-Judicial Punishment), loss of rank (aka loss of dignity), verbal assault and public humiliation?  This “tolerance” might not be viewed as mentally healthy to those who are the beneficiaries.

What about all of those pot smoking soldiers?  Thousands of them were mentioned in the report. These soldiers are simply viewed as party animals, malingerers looking for a good time.  There is no possibility that they are self-medicating for PTSD.  After all, according to the report, the war didn’t affect them.  They’ll tell you that there is simply no truth to the medical benefits of cannabis even though research supports otherwise.  We’ve all been brainwashed to think that marijuana is a bad word.  We associate the word with dark alleys, overdosed junkies, and mob activity and not one of us can even argue as to why we feel this way.  The Army would want us to believe that the pot smoking soldiers came from that original entry pool admitted with the waivers…who were driving fast cars and throwing rolls of Charmin across the neighbors yard late at night.

Stigma, it has been admitted in the report, still exists in the military, but that is not the cause of suicide.  Military officials claim stigma is significantly reduced. Only 51% feel that stigma is still a dominant factor in whether or not a soldier will ask for help.   What number defines 51% of the entire Army population?  According to Wikipedia, within active and reserve duty, there are approximately 2,932,400 members of the Army.  So only 1,495,524 soldiers believe that stigma exists and are afraid to go ask for help. Things are definitely looking up, and besides, according to General George Casey, “The stigma attached to seeking mental health treatment is not just an Army problem … this is a societal problem that we all have to wrestle with…..”

Yes, General, society does attach stigma to seeking mental health care, but I haven’t heard about too many doctors lining their patients up in formation and screaming at all of them telling them that they are going to be thrown under the bus if they don’t quit complaining about their aches and pains.  This is no exaggeration.  I’ve heard this happen at a unit for wounded warriors.  At least when a civilian wants to go to the doctor, it can be done in complete privacy and there will likely not be anyone on the medical staff yelling and threatening the patient.

Prescription medications are mentioned in the report as being problematic, but I get the impression that the Army wants us to believe it is still the fault of the soldier that swallows the pills.  BG Richard Thomas, Assistant Surgeon General for Force Projection, said “We’re seeing ….. a lot of Soldiers that are taking narcotics, a lot of Soldiers are taking anti-depressants, psychotropic class medications.”  General, might I ask who is prescribing these medications?  Are the soldiers evaluated thoroughly before these pills are given out like candy?  What about the issue of polypharmacy?  Most of these soldiers are on so many medications that they simply can’t function.  Soldiers experience adverse side affects  that affect decision making, judgment, and actually cause suicidal ideations.  There are many soldiers dying in their sleep, all because they were following orders and taking their prescription medications.  Some soldiers are actually punished for NOT taking their medication.

Polypharmacy almost killed my son.  He was just taking his medicine as his military doctor had prescribed.  If we had not intervened, he would have died.  I imagine he would have been counted as a suicide.  Of course, he was not given a waiver so this might disturb statistical data.  He entered the service simply by being qualified.

One final explanation for the cause of suicide in the Army is all of risk factors that are common to all of us. Failed relationships, death of a loved one, loss of property or finances, loss of job, legal issues, investigations or pending incarcerations, access to weapons, risk-taking behavior, are mentioned, just to name a few.  Yes, those risk factors are common to those of us out here in the civilian world, but they are far more common in the military community.  Why?  Because these factors are not causes.  They are the effects of a natural emotional reaction to the deeply shocking and disturbing experience of war and repeated deployments.  A normal reaction to an abnormal situation will ultimately result in a life spinning out of control if there is no understanding and no help to be found.

I have to wonder.  Did anyone really talk to the soldiers who are dealing with PTSD? Checking research sources, I noted that soldier satisfaction surveys were used. If you are interested in the effectiveness of these surveys please take some time to read “Are We Entitled to Our Own Opinion?”

Sadly, the Army really doesn’t have a plan of action except to ask leaders to read the 350 page report.  I’d like to know how many leaders have already stopped everything else they were doing to read this report carefully.   If Army officials really wanted to know what was wrong they would have an outside source do the investigating and find the real answers.  They would start with the source, that being the soldiers who suffer and their families who have first hand knowledge of what is truly going on.  If the Army can’t do any better than this after 15 months of study, I shudder to think of the number of deaths that will be reported this time next year.

Originally published by the author on fellednot.com

Most of us think that serving in the military is a job for somebody else.  We rather not face the fact that it takes all of us working together to keep this nation afloat.  We have not been made to physically experience life in a war zone, with the exception, perhaps, of 9/11 which for most of us was something to watch on television.  The trauma of that event moves further back in our memory with each day that we move forward from that dreadful day.

Let us be reminded that FREEDOM is NEVER FREE!  Since the birth of our nation there has always been someone willing to sacrifice their life so that you can live yours.  Instead of pointing fingers of blame at our politicians, let’s reshape the way we look at this never ending War on Terror and the way it is currently impacting our military families.

Military Leaders - you continue to state that there is no stigma. You have told us that you encourage our troops struggling with PTSD to come forward and get the help they deserve.  Your actions speak a lot louder than your words.  Newsflash!  Those who believed your words are now Prisoners of War within the Wounded Warrior units across this country.  Many have decided that suicide is the only way out.  When confronted with this reality, you choose to punish those who have the courage to scream for help and bully those family members who advocate for their Prisoner of War.  Instead of helping those in need, you are stripping these men and women of their dignity and their benefits. How would you feel if I treated your child in the same manner that you have treated mine?  These men and women have defined themselves with their sacrificial service and allegiance to defend and protect our nation and their brothers-in-arms.  How can one ever recover from the notion that Semper Fidelis is nothing more than a bumper sticker on the back of your car? I don’t know if you’ve realized it, but you have American blood on your hands. How does it feel?

US Department of Veterans Affairs - Those of you who work for the VA may have good intentions but we all know where that road takes us if we don’t follow through with our promises.  I realize you are overworked and understaffed, but put a smile on your face and try to make a difference while you are at work today. I always hear Veterans complaining about the poor quality of service and I often hear VA employees expressing their disappointment and frustration with the system.  What I don’t hear is talk of people stepping up to make a difference.  Instead of complaining, speak up and fight for changes that you know are necessary.  Don’t be afraid of losing your job. It takes a lot of courage to stand up and demand change.  You will be going against the current, but if you talk long enough and loud enough, others will join you.  Remember you don’t have to wear the uniform to serve your country. Thank you to those who are already fighting for change.

Lawmakers - every one of you has Veterans and active duty troops among your constituents.  They have served on your behalf, so start doing your job and serve on their behalf. You took an oath which includes these words  “…support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic….. bear true faith and allegiance to the same…. take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion…..will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office……”

There are a few of you out there doing all the work, and for that I thank you, but it’s not enough.  Most of you have liaisons who do all the work for you.  They listen to our complaints.  They write your letters and stamp them with your signatures.  They wait the required 30 days for a response, which actually turns into 90+ days of waiting.  When they finally receive a report from the military, filled with comments that discredit the reputation of the constituent and deny any wrong doing, your liaison replies to us with the military’s response, along with a token letter, with YOUR signature, telling us of your enthusiasm to have worked on the situation. We are always encouraged to contact you if you can do anything else to help!  Do you know how ignorant you appear when it’s obvious that you didn’t even read the military’s response carefully enough to see that nothing was investigated? You really should be ashamed of yourselves.  You just assume that the constituent is off their rocker and the military has all their ducks in a row.  If you took the time to get to know your constituents and take a look at their evidence, you would realize that things are not always what they seem.

Can you not remember back to a time in your life when you were just a regular guy like the rest of us?  What good does it do to initiate an inquiry if you don’t even take the time to verify the findings yourself?  You don’t want to be bothered with what is really going on, and though I have letters signed by many of you, I have reason to believe that you have never heard my name or that of my Marine.  Your liaisons have been trained to get rid of us and few will truly listen to what we are saying. Instead, they wait for us to take a breath and then they read the reply on the instruction card taped next to the phone. Might I remind you that these military officers are not the ones who have the power to vote you into office during the next election.

Your career is far too important and you are busy with the requests of people who will further your career, rather than those who are stained with stigma and bearing the scars of war.  Frankly, you have blood on your hands, as well.  We voted for you because you said you would take care of us.  You are a public SERVANT.  You have the power to STOP the STIGMA so start serving and make a difference in the lives of our veterans as well as the lives of our nation’s wounded warriors wasting away in the now infamous ‘Warehouses of Despair.’

Citizens – we, too, must change the way we operate.  For those of you who are working diligently to support our troops and veterans, I thank you.  I have found that most volunteers have a personal connection to our troops.  What about the rest of you? Serving our nation is not for other people to do.  The last time I checked, this country did not have a Royal Family, so stop acting like you are above obligation.  There are countless ways you can help STOP the STIGMA that faces our veterans returning from war.

You can support their families while they are deployed.  Random acts of kindness such as mowing a lawn or babysitting can go a long way to help a young wife take a much needed break during a year long deployment.

You can get involved in a nonprofit organization that is trying to help our wounded, but don’t simply donate and walk away.  Roll up your sleeves and volunteer.  While you are there, push for programs which will help those suffering with PTSD and mild Traumatic Brain Injury. We always seem to migrate toward the groups which are helping those with physical injuries.  It is my belief that those with invisible wounds outnumber those with physical wounds but because of the stain of stigma, their voices go unheard.  Instead of donating to a national organization that already has celebrity spokespeople and millions of dollars to spend, find a local organization and get personally involved in rebuilding the lives of the veterans living in your backyard.

If you have the credentials to help with the mental health care crisis of PTSD, you owe it to your community to give your time to those who have given you the right to choose your career.  Every doctor and counselor out there should have a couple of hours a week that they could donate to see a veteran at no charge.  Veterans in crisis are waiting months to get an appointment at the VA.  Their family members need counseling as well.  Just ask anyone that lives with a combat veteran.

Employers need to hire veterans.  The unemployment rate, as well as the rate of homelessness is extremely high among our veterans.  The stigma has permeated the community and no one wants to “take a chance” that a veteran might have PTSD and make things a little bit difficult.  Did it ever occur to you that if we just welcomed these heroes into our businesses and let them know that we cared about them and trusted them, they would likely become our best employees?  If they have some issues that require modifications, is that really such a sacrifice for you to make?  In the end, what is the wisest investment for your company?  Is it the Almighty Dollar or is it the opportunity to change lives?

We need to go to our lawmakers who will be more likely to do something if we all stand up and complain.  I challenge you to set up a simple Google Alert with some key words such as PTSD, TBI, or the name of the military base located closest to your home.  Your email box will be flooded with news and you will quickly realize the magnitude of this situation.  Take a few minutes out of your day to educate yourself on the crisis facing our military families and our veterans and start making your representative earn his/her paycheck.  Write them, call them, email them, or drop by and visit their office.  Insist on action and follow up with the results.  Don’t just go to representatives in your community.  Try contacting representatives from other states.  They should ALL have at least one constituent worthy of their time and attention to these issues.  If I just settled for the representatives in my state, I’m pretty sure my Marine would be a statistic rather than a living, breathing body.  Believe it or not, it is YOUR responsibility to bring concerns to the attention of those we have elected.  You really have no right to complain about your representative if you have not first gone to that individual and made it clear what it is he should be doing for you.

I believe that Abraham Lincoln said it best in his Gettysburg Address:

It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

I’ve tried to come up with an absolute number of suicides and suicide attempts within the past year (July 16, 2009 – July 16, 2010) but it is nearly impossible to track this information….and I believe it is intentional.  Do an online search for these statistics and you will find that you have to read through all sorts of information listed on numerous websites.  You will have to take notes and use your calculator to try and put it all together.  It’s pretty obvious that the Department of Defense is trying to present the information in a way that keeps anyone from truly understanding the magnitude of the crisis at hand.

Here is what I could come up with….if these numbers are accurate.  By November 24, 2009, there had been 344 suicides amongst active duty troops. December took the lives of 16 more from the Army. We don’t have numbers for the other branches.  Looking at the reports for 2010, it’s obvious that the numbers are growing and I just read that someone in the military tries to take their own life every 2 hours.  I got that little tidbit of information from the Marine Corps NCO Suicide Prevention Training Instructor Guide. If that number has any truth to it, there are twelve attempts a day which totals 4,380 attempts a year! (Remember, I’m not even including veterans.)

Why, you ask, am I so interested in all the numbers.  Let me be clear.  These are not numbers.  These are lives!  Lives that are destroyed by war and the system.  Each number represents a human being with a beating heart who has sacrificially served his country for the rest of us.  He has been forever changed by the cruelty of war and returns home to an environment that offers no help.  Our troops are suffering in silence because, despite what is claimed by our military leadership, there is not much help and the stigma is far too damaging for anyone to take a chance on speaking up about their problems.

July 16, 2010 – One of the numbers tallied in June 2008 represents Sgt. Travis Brake, USMC, MarSOC, friend, teammate and roommate to my son.  I went to Travis’s funeral.  I felt the family’s devastation the moment I entered the funeral home.  I felt the anger and despair expressed by my son when he found out Travis was gone.  It’s been two years, but I’ll never forget the pain.

Another number, tallied in August 2009, represents the life of Cameron Anestis.  Cameron was a Marine who attended my son’s high school, as well as The Citadel, and served in Iraq before taking his life.  He left behind a wife and daughter.  We didn’t know Cameron, but we felt the pain that swept through our community when he died.

May of 2010 is the month that tallied the number representing the life of Sgt Thomas Bagosy, another Marine from MarSOC who was tormented with PTSD.  When he took his life, he left behind a wife, two children, parents, siblings, and friends who are still trying to understand how this could have happened.  I watched at Arlington National Cemetery as the Marines folded a flag for his wife, his parents, and his four year old son. I listened to the sobs of his wife and mother.  I couldn’t bury that memory if I tried for a thousand years.

I’ve been to two funerals in the past 8 days, both for Marines who struggled with PTSD.  Two of my dearest friends just buried their only child on Tuesday.  It’s likely that his death was accidental. He was fighting the demons of PTSD and was just trying to get some sleep.  I still can’t believe that LCPL Adam Puckett is gone from this earth.  Just 25 years old, he was here in Lexington, home on leave after completing his second deployment.  We all waited anxiously for his return only to lose him 10 days later.  His parents must now redefine their lives and we are all at a loss as to how to help them through this dark hour.

Today, July 16, 2010, marks one year since my own world came crashing down around me.  It was one year ago today that I was begging and pleading with my son to hold on and wait for help.  My Marine, who successfully completed three combat tours, who was a member of MarSOC, and who was well on his way to becoming a Staff Sergeant when he had been sidetracked by an injury that left him with a mild traumatic brain injury, was on the other end of the phone line telling us that he was holding a gun to his head.

What transpired in the next 45 minutes will forever be etched in my mind.  While my youngest son, only 15 at the time, tried to beg and plead with my Marine to please call for help, I went to another phone and called for help. We were over 600 miles away so I felt helpless.  I knew that I had the cell phone number for my son’s company commander.  In a panic, I called the captain.  I tried to remain calm and explain the situation knowing that I was breaking the unwritten rule…. Mothers NEVER, EVER call the Marine Corps.  I was almost more scared of what might happen to my son because I was calling to report his behavior than I was about the fact that he might pull the trigger.

The captain, who will not be identified for now, told me that he would talk to my son in the morning.  Can you believe it?  I called to tell him that my son is talking about taking his life and this man says he will speak to my son in the morning.  He is the commanding officer for the company at Wounded Warrior Battalion East and he is going to wait until the next day to look into this situation.  He went on to explain how PTSD affects the Marines and while I had half of my attention on what he was saying, I had the other half of my attention on the phone call between my sons.  At some point, the captain said he would give the 1st Sgt a call and look into the situation and he hung up.  We waited for what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality only about 10 to 15 minutes.  It was obvious that no one was responding.  My younger son was still trying to keep my older son calm and I was about to panic thinking that if my oldest child pulled the trigger, my youngest child was going to hear the gunshot that would take his brother’s life.  I couldn’t breathe and I finally called the captain back to see what was going on.

It was clear that nothing was going on.  The captain was still trying to counsel me and it was obvious that he considered me to be nothing more than a neurotic mother.  At some point I screamed that my son was ready to pull the trigger and with that the captain said he would get right on it and call me back.  The phone line was still open between my sons and after waiting several more minutes and realizing that no one was going to my son’s aid, I picked up the phone and called one of my son’s friends.  He immediately responded and 45 minutes after the initial call I finally knew that someone was there to help.

One year later, I’m still waiting for the captain to call me back.  You will also be interested to know that no one from the Marine Corps ever went to my son’s home to physically check on him that evening.  Several minutes after my son’s buddy and his wife arrived, we hung up leaving them to tend to our distressed Marine.  It was at some point after that the 1st Sgt finally called to see if my son was okay.  My son, frightened about the fact that his command now knew he was fragile, lied and told the 1st Sgt that his mother was just upset and that he would never commit suicide.  The 1st Sgt seemed satisfied, hung up, and likely went back to his movie and popcorn.

I have researched and read the leadership guidelines for suicide prevention that are supposedly used by the Marine Corps. I’ve watched the instructional videos, and I’ve even read the instructional training guides.  Nowhere have I seen it written that an officer is supposed to simply speak to a troubled Marine “in the morning”.  There is nothing that specifically details that a phone call is an acceptable choice of contact. What I did find is that it is mandatory that “all hands” take any troubled Marine for help. The Marine should not be left alone.  Even if one feels that a Marine is fabricating an attempted suicide, he is obligated to escort the Marine to a medical facility….just in case.

These leadership guidelines also stress the importance of reducing stigma and encouraging Marines to ask for help.  To prove there is no stigma, these publications and movies introduce Marines who have attempted suicide, gotten help, and later gone back to promotions and successful careers.  Nowhere did I see guidelines instructing commanders to tell the Marine on the following day that he was a disgrace to the uniform.  Sadly, that is exactly what my son was told.

Since July 16, 2009, I’ve pressed every rank from the Battalion Commander to the Brigadier General who works directly for the Commandant.  In fact, I’ve even written to the Commandant, but he and the Brigadier General have never responded to me directly.  Instead lengthy papers discrediting me and my son have been written and sent to lawmakers interested in this case.  Each one has given a different version of what they want to be believed as truth.  They all claim that protocol was followed, but my memory, as well as that of both of my sons, and my digital recording of the event say otherwise.

These high ranking officers claim that they have phone records to prove me wrong.  I say “Bring it!”  I have phone records too.  They say that the 1st Sgt was following protocol with his phone call.  I say, “Show me the leadership guide where that one is written!”  I’ve read all of them.  It’s not there.    A year later they are still twisting the truth in hopes that congressmen and senators will lose interest and walk away from our case.  There are a few who have done that, but lawmakers like Congressman Walter Jones of North Carolina, who truly care, know what’s really going on here and they are just that much more determined to seek the truth.

My son is still breathing and for that I am very grateful.  If not for the grace of God, Congressman Jones, and the willing hearts of my family who have sacrificed much to allow me to give my full time and attention to this fight, I’m certain that my son would be just another number in the monthly tallies.  He’s soon to be medically retired from the Marine Corps at the ripe age of 24.  He will make it because he’s got a family that loves him and we will never stop helping him through his journey of recovery.  What concerns me, however, is the numbers that continue to add up every month.  Over the past year, while I’ve been crying out, approximately 400 more troops have ended their lives, and the military leadership has continued to shove the problem under the rug and look the other way.

How many families will be suffering a similar loss by this time next year and how much debris will be under the rug?

Originally published by the author on fellednot.com.

I check Facebook. My “wall” is loaded with posts of Father’s Day greetings. I post one myself. I head over to Military Missions page and begin to post a message. This one takes more thought because I want to say something meaningful to those who have served our nation, those who are deployed today, and those family members that have to spend today without their daddy.

As I ponder what to post on the facebook wall,I realize that Father’s Day is just another Hallmark holiday for many of us. On one day each year, we stop what we are doing and we let our dads know we love and appreciate them. For those who have a loved one deployed, this day is long and lonely, a raw reminder that Dad is not home, and he’s standing in harm’s way. His absence consumes each member of the family in a far more powerful way on a day like today.

Suddenly, my mind rushes to my friend Katie Bagosy. Six short weeks ago, she was one day away from losing her husband to the battle of the invisible wound of war, PTSD. Today, she must endure 24 hours of “Father’s Day” with her two young children who no longer have a daddy to hug in their arms. Her husband, Sgt. Tom Bagosy, a United States Marine, took his own life on Monday, May 10, 2010, and joined the statistical numbers that will be counted and shoved under the rug.

The moment my mind rests of Katie and her two young children, I am overcome with grief. I can hardly make my mind go to the place where she must be today. Tommy’s death is still so fresh. Father’s Day will always be a painful reminder for the Bagosy family, but this year has to be the worst! I haven’t known Katie very long, but I can hear her voice and see her tears in my mind. I realize that all day long, Katie will be reminded that her kids can’t jump in their daddy’s lap. She will have to worry about the fact that there is no one home to accept the finger painting made in Sunday School this morning. She might not even bother to go to church today, and I doubt she will want to go anywhere near the local restaurants. Why immerse herself in the reminder that Tommy is gone? I can only imagine all the questions that her children are going to be asking all day long. I know her son is having an especially hard time, so a day like this must cut Katie’s heart in two.

Now my mind rushes to Bob Bagosy, Tommy’s father. I am reminded of our recent phone conversation and I ponder his pain. As his memories of past Father’s Day celebrations flood his mind, he will likely find this day to be nothing like any Father’s Day he has ever experienced. As our dads spend this day reflecting on their role as father, Bob will choke back the tears with his memories of Tommy from the very first moment his child drew breath until the last time Bob saw his son, and every milestone in between. As a parent myself, I can not even make myself go there for more than a moment. If it’s too painful for me, therefore, I already know it has to be unbearable for Bob.

As a society, we are all about numbers. The military keeps a count each month of the number of new enlistments, the number deployed, the number of wounded, the number of those killed in action, and though they would prefer not to, they even keep a count of the number of suicides. Tommy is a casualty of war, and I’m sure he has already been counted, but before the numbers are totaled, be sure to include Katie. Be sure to include Tommy’s children. Don’t forget to include his parents, Bob and Iris. Tommy had two brothers and two sisters who need to be included in that count. While you are tallying the numbers, try to get some accurate data on the number of extended family members, friends, and fellow Marines who are forever affected by Tommy’s death.

Here is the sad reality about Father’s Day 2010. This death could have been prevented.   If Sgt. Tom Bagosy had been given proper medical care, he would still be here with his family today. If Sgt Bagosy had not been stained with the stigma of PTSDhis children would be sitting in his lap right now. He wanted help. He begged for it. He did not want to take his own life, but he could not see his way through the nightmare his life had become. He fought to hold on, but in the end, he just couldn’t bear the burden of dragging his family down and in an instant, he was gone. He didn’t get the chance to rethink his decision. I am certain he would have chosen life if he had believed the health care givers at Naval Hospital Camp Lejeune would open their eyes and ears and actually help him.

Next year’s Father’s Day will likely be a bit easier for the Bagosy family, but I wonder how many more families will be enduring their “first Father’s Day” as casualties of PTSD, the invisible wound of war?

Originally published by the author on fellednot.com.

Dear Senator Levin,

It has come to my attention that in response to an investigation by ProPublica and NPR, you have stated that you would expand a hearing on soldier suicides to include a more extensive discussion of the military’s handling of Traumatic Brain Injuries (TBI) and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).

It is a relief to know that you find the NPR and ProPublica reports concerning. If I may be so bold, I’d like to ask you to explain your plan to expand these hearings, how you will implement your plan in order to get the facts, and how soon you will get started with your efforts. You see, Senator Levin, I wrote to you last year, on November 23, 2009, to be exact, with my own concerns about the military’s handling of TBI and PTSD, and I’m still waiting for your response.

It was my hope that you, as the Chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee, will be truly concerned about the Active Duty Soldiers and Marines who are suffering with PTSD and TBI. I hope you will be even more concerned when your facts lead you to the realization that these troops are not receiving proper care. In fact, in some cases, these warriors are being mistreated. Senator Levin, please don’t make the mistake of including these individuals in the tens of thousands mentioned in the NPR report as currently ‘undiagnosed’. These men of whom I refer are a part of the 115,000 who have been identified, according to the NPR report.

Did I make myself clear, Senator? These men HAVE already been identified, and yet, in addition to the fact that they do not receive proper care, they are actually disciplined, demoted, and stripped of all dignity. I know you find this hard to believe. I felt the same way back in the beginning when I was first introduced to this problem personally. At first, I thought perhaps it was just that my Marine was going through a difficult time in his life. I trusted the Marine Corps and I trusted the infamous Wounded Warrior Battalion-East (WWBN-E). I had read many great things about the unit, and was initially pleased that my son had been transferred there from MarSOC. The longer my son was assigned to WWBN-E, however, the more he changed. The changes I saw were not good. In fact, at some point my son became almost unrecognizable.

Alarmed, I began to ask questions. I started with the family support coordinator. Next, I spoke to my son’s case manager. Over a period of time, I spoke with the Staff Sergeant, the Captain, different doctors, as well as other staff members assigned to my son’s care. Over the past several months, I’ve even had numerous conversations with the Commanding Officer of the battalion.

Because I still felt that no one was listening, I sought advice from retired commanding officers and medical professionals in my area, trying to learn as much as I could about my son’s diagnosis. I wanted to better understand what he was going through so I could be of some help to him. I even met with employees at our local VA Medical Center who work with veterans dealing with the same conditions. After months of searching for someone to help my son, I finally reached out to my congressman and my senators. In fact, Senator Levin, I reached out to you, as previously mentioned, in my letter of November 23, 2009, which I will attach for your convenience.

The Kentucky lawmakers (Senator Jim Bunning, Senator Mitch McConnell, and Congressman Ben Chandler)took enough interest to write a letter to initiate inquiries on my son’s behalf, but they, like everyone else, didn’t really seem to care enough to follow through with any sincere effort. I found this extremely disappointing with this being my first experience to exercise my right to reach out to my elected officials for help.

Congressman Joe Sestak also took the time to initiate an inquiry on my son’s behalf. Though he represents the state of Pennsylvania, his concern as a veteran was greatly appreciated by our family.

As the Personnel Subcommittee Chairman, Senator Jim Webb and his staff took interest and conducted a fact finding mission on systemic issues. I am not aware of the specific findings, though I am aware that there were some discrepancies found.  Senator Webb took action almost immediately when this situation was brought to his attention.

Congressman Walter Jones of North Carolina, has been 100% committed to helping not only my son, but all Marines who have been brought to his attention suffering with PTSD and TBI, including those who find themselves with the unfortunate assignment of Wounded Warrior Battlion-East.

If it were not for the efforts of Congressman Jones, our family would have lost hope a long time ago, and I’m confident that my son would be dead and buried. As it stands now, he is still breathing, but he is so changed that we really don’t recognize him anymore. His wounds have made life difficult for him, but it was the treatment that he received during his assignment at WWBN-E that actually destroyed him. Not a day goes by that I don’t mourn the loss of my son. It’s been eighteen months, but I still hang onto the hope that one day, he will return to us, for what we have now is merely a shell of the man who is struggling to survive.

Now that I am aware of the concerns brought to your attention by the powerful entities of NPR and ProPublica,it is my hope that you will also listen to those of us who have no power and no name, those of us with voices, screaming and unheard. I cry out as a mother who raised a son willing to serve his nation. I beg you, Senator Levin, to listen carefully to what I have to say. There are many who are assigned to Wounded Warrior Battalions and Warrior Transition Units who are hanging on, barely breathing, with hope that someone will take notice of the deplorable care they are receiving.

The very men and women who have fought to ensure that we can live in a free nation, are themselves, living as prisoners of war, held hostage by their own. You will be told that nothing is wrong when you speak to the commanders. Given the opportunity to speak directly to the Wounded Warriors, the staff will be sure to schedule a time for you to speak with someone that fits within the unit’s chosen archetype. Just know that you won’t get the truth from these Marines. They are hand picked because they will tell you what the command wants you to hear. The sad reality, Sir, is that even if you have the opportunity to speak with those who are being mistreated, you will not get the truth from them either. You see, they are too frightened to speak out and tell the truth. No one is willing to take the fall, for they have seen what happens to those who have taken a stand. They don’t want to end up with the same life sentence.

The commanders will tell you that stigma no longer exists, and they will tell you there is an open door policy. Don’t believe them, Sir! You will never be able to accomplish anything with the expanded hearings you have scheduled at the end of the month if you don’t listen to someone who has nothing to lose by telling the truth.

I’ve spent months thinking about this situation, Senator Levin. I believe I have some ideas that need to be heard. I have ideas that range from issues such as gaining accurate responses to climate surveys all the way to suggestions for legislation that would generate advocates for those being served by the Wounded Warrior units across the nation. You may see me simply as a mother of a Marine, but I believe I play another role of importance.

I started a nonprofit organization, Military Missions Inc., several years ago in an effort to rally support for our troops amongst the civilian community. At first, the organization simply sent care packages. Before long we saw a need and began to offer support for military family members. Becoming more involved in the community of military families, we saw the need to reach out to encourage and support our Veteran community. As well, our eyes were opened to the urgency to provide support for those suffering with PTSD and TBI.(www.fellednot.com) I work on these issues twelve to fourteen hours a day, and I don’t get paid a dime. I don’t want recognition, nor do I want a pat on the back. I want to be a voice for those who don’t have one. It is the least I can do for those who were willing to lay down their lives for Americans like myself.

Senator, I research the issues. I talk to care givers, experts, and most importantly, I listen to those who are suffering. They trust me, knowing that I truly care about them and will do anything I can to get the attention of our nation’s leaders so that improvements can be made.

I’m tired of turning on the news and hearing the endless discussions about about the oil spill. I’m annoyed when I must listen to the endless bickering with regard to health care reform. I’m distressed and agitated because I am forced to listen to current leaders blame the last administration for the economy, the war, and the issue of illegal immigration. All of these issues are important, but instead of solving the problems, people just keep pointing the fingers of blame. Meanwhile, wounded warriors are wasting away in despair, lives are being lost to suicide, families are falling apart, and most of our lawmakers don’t even seem to notice. Can’t we all stop for just a moment and take care of those who sacrificed for the rest of us? I don’t think I’m asking too much.

Senator Levin, I would greatly appreciate it if you would contact me so that I can share with you some valuable information. If you truly want to ensure that our wounded warriors get the care they need, please dig deep. Look past the top commanders, for their main concern is their career path. Look past the troops stuck wasting away in units for Wounded Warriors, for they are far too frightened to speak the truth. Find the family members who bear the burden, for they know what’s really going on. Listen to them, for they are the ones tho know their warrior better than anyone. They are the ones who will stop at nothing to make sure that their warrior receives proper care.

I know it will seem overwhelming at first, Sir, but don’t make the same mistake that almost everyone else has already made. Don’t ignore the evidence. Don’t bury it because you prefer a quick fix to this enormous problem. Acknowledge what you find, admit you found it, apologize if you find cause to do so, move forward, and get the situation resolved. Don’t be just one more person jumping in with everyone else to cover things up. Be one who has the courage to expose the truth, no matter how ugly and brutal it becomes.

Very respectfully submitted,

Proud Mother of a Marine Sergeant

Originally published by the author on fellednot.com

So what’s the problem you ask. With Memorial Day being synonymous with the “Unofficial Start of Summer” most people are celebrating the long weekend with family outings, camping trips, beach vacations, and more. Every retailer out there is having a Memorial Day Sale, but I’m not trying to decide between the Mattress Close Out Sale and purchasing a a new car during the Ford “Swap Your Ride” promotion going on this weekend. I’m not even trying to decide between attending the barbecue down the street and going to the pool now that it’s open.

I’m trying to decide between going to Camp Nelson to honor our military, veterans, and fallen heroes, and staying home with my head buried under my blankets. You see, it just might hurt too much to go anywhere this year.

I run a small non-profit organization that supports our military, their families, and our veterans. I don’t just stop one day a year to throw a flag out in the yard and say thanks. I’m busy all day, everyday, doing something to let our troops know I care about them. I haven’t always been this way, in fact, I’m embarrassed to say there was a time when I didn’t give our military much thought at all. There have been plenty of Memorial Days where you could have found me hitting the beach or buying that mattress……and I am not proud of that fact.

One day it all became personal and I was no longer just a blessed individual, who, by the grace of God was born in this country instead of another. One day I woke up and found myself to be the mother of a 17 year old boy who had just graduated from high school and was leaving for USMC boot camp. I had actually tried to talk him out of enlisting. I was hopeful that he would go to college first. Since he was old enough to speak in sentences, he has spoken of his intent to serve in the military. I should not have been surprised that he wanted to do things his way, but I guess my hope that he would be spared from going to war had kept my blinders on during his senior year.

Six years later, I’ve learned a lot from my son. I got a small glimpse of what it really means to love your country. I’ve had a chance to really consider the sacrifices that are made so that we can live in freedom. I’ve come to realize that the guys doing the fighting are just some of those that make a sacrifice. Each one leaves behind a family that must bravely go on during deployments. They are making a huge sacrifice as well. I’ve met the most amazing, selfless people who have willingly put their own lives and families on hold so that they could step up to protect all of us. I can’t imagine how sad and meaningless my life would be if I had not been thrown, against my will, into this world of the military and then been given the privilege of supporting them on a daily basis.

I probably learned one of my most valuable life lessons the day my son left for his first deployment to Iraq. As I caught my last glimpse of him, I suddenly realized that I didn’t care one bit about the insignificant bad habits for which I had spent 18 years nagging at him to stop. Nothing mattered except the fact that I needed him to come back home to me.

While he was deployed, he would call and tell me about some kid that wasn’t getting any mail and I would feel compelled to take care of him. It wasn’t long before I was mailing boxes to everyone and receiving letters of thanks from the Marines and their family members. Relationships developed and before I knew it I was surrounded by an incredible family of support. In giving just a little bit to others, I was inundated with beautiful friendships and found myself feeling like a real member of the fabric of the United States of America.

I saw my son blossom as he served. He was definitely more mature after boot camp, but the more striking change came after he returned from his first deployment. The second deployment showed even more growth, and it wasn’t long before he was making the decision to reenlist and become a part of Special Operations. The training for this type of job was grueling, but my son was thriving.

On Memorial Day, 2008, he was home on leave just prior to his third deployment. He had just purchased his first home, and had just given the girl of his dreams an engagement ring. This being the first Memorial Day that he was not deployed or involved in training since he first enlisted, it was such a blessing to have him with us at the Memorial Day Program at Lexington Cemetery that day. He was wearing his Dress Blues and he was so proud to be a US Marine. I stood behind him during the Pledge of Allegiance and wept as I watched him standing so still, saluting as only a Marine can do.

Fast forward to Memorial Day 2010. The Marine I just described is dead. Oh, not physically dead, but the proud Marine that once inhabited the body of my son is gone, never to return. Now, what remains is one who has been wounded by war and even more devastating, wounded by his own. Yes, I am referring to the very men that “take care of their own”. Those who live by the motto “Semper Fidelis” or “Always Faithful.”

When he returned from his third deployment in late 2008, my Marine had reached a point where he could no longer suffer in silence. What we didn’t know prior to this time was that he had suffered a concussion during his second deployment which had left him with a mild Traumatic Brain Injury. The struggles he was having seemed controllable, or so he thought, and after all he had gone through to become a member of MarSOC, he was not about to tell anyone. He had already seen what happened to others who sought help. Everyone on the inside knows that once the information is out, the Marine is finished.

Oh sure, those in power will tell you that there is no stigma and the door is wide open, but those in the lower ranks will tell you otherwise. So, what do we do when we discover that our wounded warriors are being mistreated by their own? The Marine Corps would have us all look the other way.

For the past eighteen months, I have watched the United States Marine Corps destroy my son. Whatever parts of him that were left when he returned from his third deployment are likely lost forever. They spent over a quarter of a million dollars to train him to be a Special Operator and then, when he came to them and asked for help, they threw some pills at him, sat him in a corner, and began the process of destroying a good Marine. Then, if that wasn’t enough, they threw some more pills at him and forced him to put up with the rants of misplaced drill sergeants who should have been clocking in aboard Parris Island instead of the Wounded Warrior Battalion where “patient” is the billet description for each Marine.

It’s one thing to yell at new recruits who are training for war. It is quite another to yell derogatory insults to a room full of wounded Marines who have served their country and have earned the right to be respected.

The saddest part of this story is the fact that Marine Corps is looking the other way. Leaders in the highest positions know this is going on, but they refuse to acknowledge the problems, let alone fix them.

We keep hearing the same message over and over. Thousands of veterans are suffering with PTSD and TBI. Thousands of troops are returning from multiple deployments with these issues. Suicide rates are climbing at an alarming rate. Family members like me are screaming for help and it seems like no one is listening……but the reality is that THEY ARE LISTENING and they are deliberately choosing NOT to do anything about it. In fact, they are spending their efforts to cover up the problems because the truth is that their careers are more important than the lives of these wounded warriors.

This behavior goes against the defining code of the Marine Corps! Their motto, Semper Fidelis means ALWAYS Faithful. It doesn’t mean “Sometimes Faithful”, or “Usually Faithful if it’s good for me.” I was there the day my son received his Eagle, Globe and Anchor, the day he officially became one of The Few and The Proud. I saw his face when he took ownership of the promise of “Semper Fidelis”. This right of passage that he earned was not negotiable, not relative, not fleeting. It was an absolute, or so he thought.

He gave his all to his country and the Corps. What did he get in return? Nothing but disrespect. He was spit on and cast aside. They stripped him of his dignity and left him an empty shell wandering aimlessly without hope. My son is a Marine. This is how he defines himself, yet he feels hatred toward those who have stolen his life. How does he hate the very thing that defines him? Does this mean he hates himself? How do I continue to support the entity that destroyed my first born son? I know how hard it is for me to sort through this mess, so I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for him.

For me, I can look at it this way. I am supporting the individual wearing the uniform, not the entity of the US Marine Corps. It’s easy to move forward with this mindset, but I didn’t go through rigorous training and deployments. I didn’t watch friends die, nor was I a part of violent and traumatic experiences. I also didn’t get slapped in the face by those who promised they had my back.

So, as I was saying. I’m not sure if I’m going to attend the Memorial Day Program at Camp Nelson this year or if I’m going to pull the covers over my head and stay in bed all day. I’m hurt and I’m disappointed and though I don’t want to feel this way, I can’t help that this is my emotional response. My son stepped up to serve this nation. He took an oath and in return, his nation was supposed to take care of him. He fulfilled the requirements to become one of “The Few and The Proud” and they promised to be “Always Faithful” but as it turns out, they really meant “Sometimes Faithful.”

I mourn the loss of my son every single day. The man that inhabits his body is someone unfamiliar to me. Each day the “death” of my son is raw and fresh, making it impossible to move on. When a physical death occurs, it takes time for all of us, but we do move on. We are designed to recover and move forward. We must do so in order to survive. I know the most important tool I’ve got to help me cross this mountain is the good Lord above. He is right here with me and He’s not going anywhere.

I’ll probably go to the Memorial Day program at Camp Nelson, because as I said, we are designed to recover and move forward. As long as my son is still drawing breath, I have hope, which is more some have to hold onto….so I will put one foot in front of the other and I’ll go pay my respects to those that have served for me….and this year I will probably be the one in the crowd sobbing, but it’s better than the alternative.

Originally published by the author at fellednot.com

It’s just a small word, but it has huge potential. It can be life changing, especially if you put your hope into someone or something bigger than yourself. We all use the word lightly. Try to make yourself aware of its presence in your daily vocabulary and you will quickly see that most of us don’t really tap into hope’s potential. I hope the traffic light stays green until I get through the intersection. I hope our team wins the game. I hope I pass the chemistry final. I hope it doesn’t rain today.

We rarely see the promise of a little word like hope, but I’m here to tell you that I believe that HOPE is the only answer we have right now to dealing with the enormous issue of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). I hope (there it is!) that someday we will have the answers to treating this epidemic and invisible wound of war, but until that time, we have to figure out how to survive.

Eleven months ago I was trapped inside a hurricane of crisis trying to figure out what was wrong with my Marine. For several months we knew that he had been diagnosed with a mild Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) and PTSD, but having a label to place on the problems was of little comfort because along with the label came no instructions for what to do with the package. It was obvious that the Navy’s health care providers and the Marine Corps didn’t know what to do. In fact, they were the driving force that led to making the problem much bigger than it ever had to be. (Check out Secondary Wounding when you have a minute and check out the Felled Not News  page, specifically in the Propaganda section.)

Our family was extremely frustrated because, rather than come to the people that knew our Marine best to get facts about who he really was and how these diagnoses were affecting him, they shut us out. I will always wonder how different things would be if only they had listened, but too much water has passed under the bridge.

July 16, 2009. A day that will forever be etched in my mind as my transformation day. My Marine was in another life threatening crisis but this one seemed different, more intense, more real. I tried to do what I could do, which was very little being 600 miles away. I finally made a phone call to my son’s command. (By the way, this is the very last thing that a mom ever does….call the Marine Corps…..I broke the biggest rule ever taught to me by my son, but his life was at stake and his life was more important than their rule.) The captain didn’t take me seriously. A few minutes later, I made a second call to the captain and this time I am frantic. It’s obvious that I’m still not being taken seriously, but it’s after 5:00 pm and most likely, dinner is being interrupted. The Captain is going to check into it, he says. As it turns out, I have to make another phone call to my son’s friend before anyone comes to his aid and I found myself standing on the other end of the phone……600 miles away……with nothing, absolutely nothing……I’m praying the entire time, but I’m still worried and hopeless and waiting for the Marine Corps to show up at my door, in their Dress Blues. I’m not really trusting God in this because if I did trust Him, I wouldn’t be in such turmoil.

It was a long night and I didn’t sleep. I was afraid that if I slept, death would come to our family’s door. Early the next morning, I do hear a knock on the door. No one ever comes to our door before 9:00 am. I panic! It’s the Marines! They are here! I can’t breathe and I can’t move. I stand at the top of the stairs for what seems like an eternity and then I slowly descend the stairs. I am still not breathing, and now I’m crying, but somehow I manage to open the door. What I find is a package….believe it or not, a care package, that has been returned because the soldier is no longer deployed. I pick up the box, come back in the house and then suddenly I find myself filled with rage!

I’ve just spent the past several months trying to find my son, for the man that exists within his body is one I do not recognize. I’ve tried everything I know to do to understand what he is going through so I can help him. I’ve been stonewalled by the Marine Corps because my son is just a piece of property, owned by the USMC, and frankly, I’ve been stonewalled by my own son. He was brainwashed at boot camp, six years ago, to cut the apron strings. He’s been to war three times. He sees needing his mother as a sign of weakness.

I’ve now survived the crescendo moment of a crisis, but I have no idea when this nightmare is ever going to end and I am furious because I have absolutely NO CONTROL and NO ANSWERS, and I’m exhausted! It was at that moment that I allowed myself to trust completely in the Lord. This truth hit me like a bolt of lightning. I knew that there was only one answer and that was to “let go and let God” as they say. There is a big difference between saying you are going to let go and really doing it. You won’t ever understand the difference until you practice it for yourself. This is a concept that cannot be explained and must be experienced.

I knew making promises to God that I would read my Bible more often or that I would go to church three days a week, rather than just one or two, or even that I would be a better Christian, was simply not going to work. I already knew that I would let Him down. So I took all that I had been told about Him since the day I was big enough to hear His name and I decided to claim His promises and expectantly wait for Him to deliver. I reached in that box tucked away on my shelf, and I took God and the promises he gave me through his son, Jesus Christ right out. I blew the dust off and apologized for having left Him up there so long.

I didn’t ask Him to take away the nightmare, though I really wanted this to all go away. I just asked Him to give me two things. I said, “God what do you want me to learn from this situation and where, oh where is the blessing in this storm?” I really needed the answers to these questions so I could make sense of the purpose for living through all of this pain.

Not a day goes by since July 16, 2009, that I don’t have some sort of difficulty. In fact, I will be honest. This has been the WORST year of my life, BUT this has also been the BEST year of my life. In REALLY releasing my Marine, my family, and my life to Christ, I’ve been blessed far beyond what could ever be described in words. I spend 50% of my life in what I call “Crisis Mode” reacting to a situation involving my wounded warrior, but I get a chance to practice letting go and letting God on a regular basis.

The really amazing thing about this concept is the fact that it wouldn’t work if both sides didn’t honor their responsibilities. My job is to truly and sincerely give everything to God, and be willing to accept what happens, even and especially when the answer is going to land me in another trial. God’s job is to show me the blessing and teach me the lesson. So far we are both doing a pretty good job working together.

I have a “parting of the Red Sea” experience just about every day. In fact, sometimes the sea parts more than once between sunsets. Just ask any of my close friends and family. I’ve learned so much about myself and so much about God. I’ve got a better relationship with my children and my husband. My marriage is better than ever. The nonprofit organization I started is growing like crazy, and I no longer spend my days wringing my hands in despair. My Marine is still suffering greatly, but there is a light at the end of tunnel. It’s so small I can hardly see it. Some days I literally can’t see it, but I have HOPE that it’s there and I trust that it is beckoning me to keep stepping out in faith.

So, back to HOPE. It’s the one thing that keeps us going. It’s an instinctual response to life, but I believe the flame of hope will go out if one doesn’t take the initiative to seize its potential. I’ve come to realize that the troops, who are trapped inside the system we call the “military”, are finding themselves hopeless because they can’t exercise their initiative to grab hope’s potential. They are bound by the rules and regulations that control the “order and discipline” of the unit. They are owned and they are not free to take matters into their own hands to work towards recovery. If you keep them bound long enough, the flame of hope will be extinguished and the result will be another suicide.

How can one move forward in the midst of the storms of life? One step at a time, in faith, and HOPE. Just ask Katie Bagosy. Her world was turned upside down when her husband, Sgt. Thomas Bagosy, took his life a few weeks ago. She is still reeling from the pain. She’s still caught in the storm, but she can see the light of hope. It was Tommy who lost hope, buried in the depths of despair caused by PTSD, and saw no reason to live, but Katie can’t give up too. She’s got her entire life ahead of her and she’s got two beautiful children who need their mother. She came to a crossroads and had to choose between the road to the “Life Long Pity Party” and the “Road of Hope.”

Katie chose the Road of Hope. I know this because when she stepped onto the path, she bumped right into me. God will never send us anywhere without placing someone else there to help us along. The road is long, likely never ending, but bumping into Katie may have been a bigger blessing for me than it was for her, because where there was only one voice, now there are two.  Our family has been walking along this road for a long time, waiting for someone to join us. I wish Tommy’s death wasn’t the reason for meeting Katie, but it was and there is nothing we can do to change it.  We can, however, do our best to make sure that we don’t lose one more life to the wounds of PTSD.  If you are struggling with PTSD, or you have a family member who struggles, come join us. We’ve got hope for a solution and while we wait to find it, we’ve got hope that we will find the support we need along the way. We are gaining strength and we are going to make a difference…..because we’ve got HOPE and it comes from the most powerful source ever known to man.

Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Be sure to spend some time on our Survival and Hope page.  We hope to keep it updated frequently, and if you have a minute, listen to this song….. Hold Us Together by Matt Maher (Alive Again)

Dear Admiral Mullen,

It has just been brought to my attention that you are visiting Fort Bragg today. I understand that you will include a visit to the Warrior Transition Battalion (WTB) while you are on base. I am very pleased to hear that you are taking the time to visit this unit and I would like to make a few suggestions, if I may be so bold.

As the mother of a Marine who has been assigned to Wounded Warrior Battalion East, Camp Lejeune, North Carolina for over a year, I have become extremely concerned about the care and treatment being given to our Wounded Warriors across the nation. I have spent the better part of the last year attempting to ensure that my own Marine receive proper care, but I have run into countless brick walls. I began at the source, and moved my way up until I have found myself in a place where I have exercised all of my options with the exception of coming directly to you, Sir.

With the recent news of the problems at Fort Carson’s Warrior Transition Unit, and the tragic suicide of Sgt. Thomas Bagosy, a Marine stationed at Camp Lejeune, I have decided that the only possible way to have my voice heard is to use the media as my microphone.

Admiral Mullen, I do not want attention drawn to myself or my son. In fact, it is because of my concern for his health that I have waited this long to speak out. After spending the past year expecting the Marine Corps to fix the problems drawn to their attention, and yet experiencing nothing but denial and cover ups, I am afraid that I must sacrifice my private life to help our troops suffering with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Traumatic Brain Injuries.

It has been brought to my attention that there are many others suffering in silence, without advocates. I must represent them, for they cannot represent themselves. They are trapped in a system only concerned with the order and discipline of the unit, where “conduct trumps medical”. Their cries for help have been silenced and I have become their voice. If I could have mustered up the courage to take this step three a half weeks ago, perhaps Sgt. Thomas Bagosy would still be alive. I’m not willing to let another warrior come to the same conclusion about his options in life.

Knowing full well that the Marine Corps will stop at nothing to keep their reputation intact, I am prepared for the deluge of propaganda and the likelihood that my son, my family, and the nonprofit organization I started six years ago could be in danger of being dragged through the proverbial mud watered daily by the media. I am prepared to withstand the impending storm because I our wounded warriors deserve to be heard.

These brave souls volunteered to stand in the gap for my freedom. These warriors were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for me. They were spared a physical death, but for those affected by PTSD and TBI, they did pay the ultimate price for they are the walking dead among us. I’ve been mourning the loss of my own son for over a year. He is still breathing, but the 17 year old boy that stepped off the bus at Parris Island in 2004 is gone forever. He has been replaced by an empty shell, wandering aimlessly in a sea of pain and rejection by his “Always Faithful” Corps. He asked for help. He was stamped with stigma. The invisible wounds of PTSD and TBI are deep, but the wound that cuts him to his core, Admiral Mullen, is the one that was plunged in deeply and deliberately by the United States Marine Corps. Each time I hear someone in leadership say that stigma does not exist I feel as if I have been slapped in my face! With all due respect, Sir, the leaders need to step down from their ivory towers and take a trip down to the basement where real life is happening!

From the moment he was old enough to know of its existence, my son wanted to be a part of the Corps. I signed on the dotted line the day he turned 17, so he could enter the USMC through the Delayed Entry program. I trusted you Admiral Mullen, to take care of my first born son. He served three combat tours for our nation. He reenlisted to continue his service for our nation. He chose to train and serve in MarSOC, one of the most demanding units in the Corps, for our nation.

Since the New York Times broke the story about the WTU at Fort Carson, you have been speaking out about your desire to see our wounded receiving proper care. You said we need to “….get it right for those who’ve sacrificed so much.” I am in complete agreement. Let’s stop talking about it and do something!

Recently, Admiral Mullen, you addressed the graduating class of 2010 from the United States Air Force Academy. I was very impressed with your speech. You spoke to these future leaders of their duty to lead with loyalty. You told these men and women that their loyalty must be demonstrated. You said good leaders have the moral courage to question the direction in which an organization is headed. Leadership requires integrity, you told the graduates.

Specifically you stated, “You may, at times, prove better than your word, but you will rarely prove better than your actions. The high standards by which you measure your own personal behavior and that of others, say more about you and your potential than any statements you make or guidance you give. You should strive to conduct yourself always in such a manner that it can never be said that you demanded less of yourself or of the men and women in your charge than that which is expected of you by your families or your countrymen.”

Sir, I was especially impressed with your advice on problem solving when you said, “Leaders today must likewise think creatively. They should be able to place themselves outside the problems immediately before them and look at them from a fresh perspective. While great decisions can be made in the heat of battle, great ideas are usually born in the ease of quiet. You must find the quiet to let your imaginations soar. And that brings me to your final duty — to listen. You must listen to yourselves, to your instincts. You must also prove capable of listening to others, of trying to see problems through the perspectives of our allies, our partners, and our friends all over the world. No one military, no one nation, can do it alone anymore…..”

Sir, I find no fault whatsoever with your words of wisdom for our future military leaders. It disappoints me greatly to know that there are many leaders who likely started out with the intent to serve in the way you have described, and yet, they have somehow been caught in a system that needs much improvement. With time, they are worn down and become leaders who seem to lose their integrity, lack needed wisdom, and who have compromised their standards for the next promotion, or the fear of being cast out for daring to actually solve a problem from a fresh perspective.

By law, you are the highest ranking military officer in the United States Armed Forces. You are the principal military advisor to the President, the National Security Council, and the Secretary of Defense. As a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, you have authority over personnel assignments and oversight over resources and personnel allocated to the combatant commands within their respective services.

Admiral Mullen, I believe that you must be a very busy man. There is no doubt in my mind that you have many responsibilities, but I am also aware that you have the entire body of military personnel available to you to ensure that you can get the job done.

Our wounded warriors are in crisis! Their families are in crisis! Lives are at stake! You, Sir, have been appointed to take care of our military. You have the resources and the manpower to get started on the solutions. Please, Sir, I beg you to heed your own advice. Listen! Prove yourself capable of listening to others…..not others in uniform, but others like me, who have seen the real problems with the health care system for wounded warriors. You don’t decide if I get paid so I am not afraid to tell you the truth.

The system of care is only as good as what it produces. My son is a living, breathing casualty of war. My family members are living, breathing casualties of war. Sgt. Bagosy’s family members are living, breathing casualties of war.

Look at the problems through the perspectives of your allies, partners, and friends. I am your ally, Sir. I am a faithful American. I am your partner, Admiral Mullen. I bore the child that serves in your Armed Forces. I am your friend. I want you to be successful in making changes that will truly change lives and not just the news story that will lead on tonight’s prime time news show.

I thank you for your time and attention to this matter. I look forward to hearing from you so that we can address this crisis before one more of our nation’s warriors feels compelled to take his life.

Very sincerely,

A Proud Mother of a United States Marine Corps Sergeant

Originally published by the author on fellednot.com