The End of an Era

It happened! It's here! The time has finally come! 

Basic Training Graduation

Now, did I say it would happen while I'm on unpaid maternity leave? Yes. Did it happen that way? Yes. Is that our luck? Yes. (woe is me)

Probably a week after we got home with Natalie, Jason's PEBLO called with the news. His VA ratings hadn't changed, the Army ratings increased 20%, but nothing from the VA. They assured us we could submit claims after he gets out, and that is ratings will "definitely increase". But we won't be able to do that until he's out, and even then, who knows how long the process will take. You've seen the VA in the news lately…it seems nothing good comes out of that organization, and that's really scary!

So this is it, he's getting out!

Talk about scary.

He's on post picking up his clearing papers as I type this. Last night he said "Every time I've cleared a post, it's to go to another one…not to be done forever. This is scary."

It's amazing how something he's dreamt about for so long, probably since he was in basic (ha!), is finally here, exactly 10 years later, and now he's scared to leave it! I can understand, though. I believe the Army brainwashes these guys (especially infantry guys), and it becomes a crutch. They get so used to the routine, being treated like children, and the guaranteed pay, they don't even know where to start when they're out and have complete control of their lives. Jason has it mostly figured out by now, though. He's been through multiple chains of command at the WTU since he's been here 2.5 years waiting for this day, he's had plenty of time to figure out his life after the Army.

The plan stays the same: We will likely buy a house out here (once he's out and they will finally approve us for a loan), he will finish his bachelors degree (which right now he still wants to be in Physics), and then hopefully we will be able to move back East. I will stay at my current job which is one of the main reasons we're staying here for now, it's SO flexible with his school schedule and our daycare is on post which as a civilian, I still have access to. Now, if things could go as planned for the next few years, that would be awesome! But…we all know how that works.

What I'm most excited about is being able to pick up and go wherever, whenever we want! To be able to plan things and trips months in advance! What I'm not excited about? The giant pay cut we're about to take. So far, we've survived my unpaid maternity leave by just sitting at home and hardly eating out/ordering out at all. I'm rather impressed with us. We haven't had to dip in to our savings yet! But, he's still getting paid. Luckily, when he stops getting paid, I will have been back at work for about a month, so we should be OK financially. We will still take a pay cut,  even with me working, but we will survive! We are blessed that he will be able to go to school full time and not have to work because of the GI Bill, and we are blessed that I still won't have to work full time.

Because Jason is in the WTU, he gets the privilege of being put in the lowest financial category for daycare, meaning what we pay is out of this world cheap right now. Once he's out, it's based on income, so I'm hoping it's not too crazy expensive - especially since it will be doubled! I was thinking of keeping Natalie out of daycare a little longer since Jason will have the freedom to stay at home with her while I work.

So, there you have it. Almost three years after he was injured, he is finally getting out. All that waiting and we still didn't get the results we hoped for. We will still have to fight hard once he's out, or he'll likely get lost in the system. At first, it felt like I had been punched in the gut - of course all this would happen now. We just had another major life change with this second baby, why not throw this on top of it. But now that I've had some time to process it all, it will certainly work out. Maybe not as awesome as we had hoped - at least not yet - but the timing really couldn't have been better. He'll be out before he starts school again which means he has the rest of the summer to clear, out process, tie up loose ends, last minute doctor appointments, etc. We'll be able to go on our beach vacation with no worries about leave since he'll already be on terminal leave. And then he'll come home, and start school without having to worry about calling his squad leader every morning to 'check in' and still go to PT and pull duty throughout the semester.

I am so excited for him. This is a huge step! He is handling all this change and responsibility so well! His main concern has always been us, and how he will support his family, which I am so, so grateful for. I've loved him for almost as long as we've been together, he's always been so considerate of me and my feelings, but I love him even more now. After all he's been through, he's coming out on the other side shining even brighter than he did in the Army. He's not letting any of this get him down, he's not milking the system, he's so humble and undeserving, and still so driven and even more motivated now than before.

It will be surreal, I'm sure.  A life without the Army. Many people at the WTU have asked him to work there, to be a staff NCO, or work there as a civilian after he's out. I always thought he should be a prosthetist since he knows a lot about it now, and likes to work with his hands. He said no. "It's already a huge part of my life. I don't want it to be my job, too." He has always said he wants to get as far away from the Army as possible. Unfortunately, now, it will always be a very real, and very obvious part of his life. A story he will tell often as our kids grow older and more curious, as their friends ask about it, and any new friends we should make along the way.

Cooper notices his missing middle finger more than his leg right now. "What happened your finger, Daddy?" while pointing to it. "You got hurt?" "Yes, bubby, my finger got hurt."

If that's all he notices, because his daddy can do pretty much anything other daddy can do, I'd say we're in good shape!

10 years later

was it worth it?

We all know how much Facebook has affected our lives in one way or another. Tonight, while perusing the site as usual, 2nd Brigade 4th Infantry Division posted pictures of their HHC 1-67 AR Change of Responsibility ceremony. Yes, they have a Facebook page - who doesn't these days? And nice for all those families of units who are deployed because they get to see pictures of what's going on while their spouse is gone.

In case you've forgotten, this is the unit Jason deployed with to Afghanistan from Fort Carson. I quickly looked through the pictures, your ordinary military ceremony with the flags and such. They are currently deployed to Kuwait and should return this summer.

But here's the kicker…none of them are the same people that Jason deployed with almost 3 years ago. Again, in typical military fashion, most of the guys he was with, PCS'd around September after they returned. You can tell when it's PCS season in a military town. You can just feel it in the air, there are moving trucks on every street, and there's a bit of a lull at the birthing center as everyone comes and goes and gets settled.

So as I'm flipping through the pictures, I'm thinking, "None of these guys have any idea who Jason, or the other two guys who lost their legs for this unit (and country) are."

"The leadership doesn't even know."

"Everyone has gone their separate ways and all but forgotten."

"What was the point?"

I mean obviously, the point was not to have people remember him forever. And even more obviously, there are thousands more who sacrificed so much more.

But I can't help but wonder if it was really worth it.

I am grateful to live in the US, and Jason has received nothing but top notch care from the start of all this - though some believe military care is horrible, I strongly disagree, and will save that argument for another day!

But, almost three years later, am I allowed to wonder why? Because from what Jason tells me, he's fairly bitter about it all, too. Yes, he signed up for it, and he's fully aware of that. So am I. We've never asked for sympathy, just new legs.

He still gets stopped and thanked by strangers, and all I can think is "But do you really understand what we went through during recovery and learning a new normal?" When what I should be thinking is "How nice! Someone going out of their way to show their appreciation. It is rare these days!" So I just smile and answer "Yes he's in the military, yes he lost his leg in Afghanistan…" Then when he comes back, they thank him for his service and say something about how much of a hero he is or whathaveyou. And Jason almost always responds with "Eh it's no big deal, I was just doing my job!"

I hate that response. Yes, it's the truth, but it's so humble it makes me sick! I think sometimes he wishes he had a way cooler story than what actually happened, though I'm quite happy with how it turned out, because it could have been way worse.

This is a long winded way to say - what the hell were they doing over there anyway? What was the mission? Why have I waited three years to wonder this in such detail? Why did three guys need to lose a right leg and change their lives forever? Because the COP they were defending and clearing paths to, is closed now. No one even goes there anymore. So, why?

Does this mean either of us are against what everyone is there for? No. Jason is a honorable man, and will do any job he is asked, regardless of risk - very obviously. But, I might have a little bit of a harder time understanding this. When, in my job, one of the biggest ethos (I doubt I'm using that word in the correct context) is "First, do no harm…"

People lose limbs every day, as we've seen, so why should we be any different? We shouldn't. But when you lose a part of your body so traumatically, grieving still has to happen. We are clearly still going through it. Just the other night, right before falling asleep, he said "I still can't believe I'm missing a leg." While I'm over here thinking "Hm, I'm pretty used to it now, I guess." But I can be, because I'm not the one going through it. He is. He always will be. I get to forget about it. He can't.

And I still haven't figured out why.

Recovery

Whoops...sorry about the delay in updates! Something about having a toddler makes me not able to sit and write like I used to!

Jason was discharged on Thursday! We totally weren't even expecting to leave until Friday, and I even accounted for maybe staying until Saturday just in case. So Wednesday evening when Jason said "What are they going to do tomorrow? Why do I still need to be here?" And I didn't really have a good answer, we wondered exactly what we would do for the next couple of days. He was already getting stir crazy.

Cooper was safe and sound at our friends house for the night, and if I had known, I would have packed up the car before I left the Fisher House Thursday morning. I got there and waiting for the Dr to round, except it was his resident rounding which was fine. She was super nice, and is probably younger than me. What's that they say about they keep getting younger? I'm starting to feel that way and I can't say I enjoy it much. Anyway, she was very patient with all our questions even when I wanted her to go in to extreme detail about what it looks like in there. I wanted to watch that surgery so bad. He said no. The surgeon, not Jason. Although Jason probably would have objected if he agreed.

We said "So what's the plan now?" She said "Well, do you want to go home today?" We were kind of like deer in headlights like uhhhh I guess? Ever since this has happened, Jason has become very anal about infections and germs, etc. He thinks he pushed himself to hard too fast last time (I tend to disagree, but maybe that makes me callous) and is afraid of doing that again. So I was shocked when he said he wanted to go home that day. She went and got things in order, and started the ball rolling for the day.

Zach, a prosthetist that just moved out here and happens to be working alongside Jason's surgeon, came from Walter Reed. Small world, right? Jason saw him a couple times for adjustments while we were at Walter Reed and his normal prosthetist wasn't available. They kept telling us they'd send Chris over until we realized Chris was the prosthetist and then we requested Zach just because we knew him. Any form of familiarity at this point is very welcome. So, he came in and cut Jason's hard cast off and he was Jason's new best friend after that. He gave us a donner, shrinkers, socks, and a pretty cool clamshell cast that can come off and on as Jason pleases. The nurse put on a really crappy dressing that we knew would not last a week. Good thing we still have a box full of wound care supplies at home. That would be on the to do list when we got home.

The surgeon also came in and removed the drain which Jason was not thrilled about, and gave him prescriptions, and sent him on his way! We ordered lunch and waited quite a while for it since the meds were still kind of making him nauseous. By the time we left the hospital, it was 3pm, and I still had to go to the Fisher House and pack everything up. After we finagled everything in the back so that Jason could stretch out in the back seat, we headed down to pick up Cooper. Except that it was rush hour. Not that this is DC rush hour or anything, but it still took us about an hour vs the 20 minutes it should have. We stopped at Target to fill the prescriptions, and picked up dinner for our friends, and finally made it around dinner time.

By that point, Jason was done sitting in the car. He was still feeling nauseous off and on because of the meds, and sitting in the back seat didn't help him much. As if those friends who watched Cooper pretty much the whole time we were in the hospital hadn't helped enough, they let us stay with them that night because Jason really didn't want to get back in the car. We were still about 50 minutes from home. Jason was hit hard by the narcotics, and was running a low grade fever; every time he took the meds, he broke out in sweats. He still does, so I guess that's his bodies reaction to those drugs.

We left the next morning, had breakfast at Chick-fil-a, and both boys slept the whole drive home. Ever since, Jason has been his old self! He's already going stir crazy not being able to move around as fast or as much, and when we go out, he grumbles every time we have to get the wheelchair out. He says he's having horrible dreams, and the only reason we can think, is because of the narcotics. But, no nerve pains, no phantom pains, and the swelling is very minimal. We've done a couple sponge baths, because with all that sweating, there's no way he'd make it a week with no bath at all!

Next follow up is Thursday, he'll take another x-ray, and hopefully tell Jason he doesn't have to wear the clamshell anymore! Stitches won't come out for another two weeks probably, and he's already not looking forward to that.

Hopefully we can find something to keep him occupied until he's up and walking again, or it's going to be a long 6 weeks!

Post Op day 2

I told Jason this evening, as we were reflecting on the day, "You know, I'm starting to believe in this God thing a little more - even though it sucks that your leg is gone, when it happened was probably perfect timing..."

I mean, can you imagine having a 16 month old and going through what we went through at the same time?! People did it all.the.time. And I don't know how. I spent my days at the hospital, from morning to night, and sometimes over night. I absolutely would not have been able to do that if Cooper had already been born. Yes, we were on the East coast, and we would have had plenty of family help, and would have needed it that much more, but I still cannot imagine. 

Because today, Cooper and I arrived at the hospital a little after 7, and waited for the surgeon to make his rounds. By that time, he was so done, we had to go. There was no stalling, no 'one more kiss', no nothing. It was "Ok, gotta go get him outta here! Love you, see you later!" Oh, and "Happy Anniversary!" So this is what true married with kids life is like, huh? Don't get me wrong, I felt horrible. I hate leaving him here. But I knew I wouldn't really be of any use, and I needed to spend time with my sweet boy. The previous night was horrible for us both - we got back to the Fisher House around 9:15pm, and he had fallen asleep in the car which is horrible for us. Anytime he does that, it's like a power nap for him, and he won't nap afterwards, or go to sleep at night apparently. I nursed him in the room, and put him down in the crib right next to my bed thinking that if he could see me, he'd just lay down and go to sleep. Ha. He stood up and peered over the edge of the crib, reached for my hand and put it to his cheek while sucking his thumb. If the bed was big enough, I would have let him sleep with me but they only had a room with two twins so that wasn't gonna happen. He started babbling, really loud, screaming, laughing, giggling, etc. Mind you, it's now pushing 11pm. There are other people in this house, and I did not want someone knocking on the door because that would have just pushed me over the edge in my overtired state. There was a lot of "please God let him go to sleep. please God give me patience. please God give me patience." I laid him down about 15 separate times like they do on the Supernanny and said "Good night, I love you!" holy cow. I think it was 11:30 before we both finally fell asleep. But it was a night of 'oh please don't let this wake him up' as I tried to readjust as quietly as possible. Then they emptied the dumpster and that was that. 0530, and we were up for the day. For a kid that usually sleeps for 12 hours, I knew he wasn't gonna last long this morning. 

Sure enough, as soon as we got in the car to drive down to our friends house, he was asleep. And that didn't bode well for the afternoon nap, but I went with it. I caught a quick cat nap in the target parking lot until he woke up, too. We spent the afternoon with our very generous friend, and I put him down for a nap around 2. I pried myself out of her house after he was asleep but I really didn't want to leave him again. (TMI alert) Tonight was my first night not nursing him before bed since he's been born. Like, for his entire life, he's always had a night time routine of reading, rocking, nursing, and bed. And tonight he didn't have that, and I wasn't the one putting him to bed. And guess what? He didn't even know the difference. That made my heart hurt a little bit, because he no longer really truly needs me. Someone else could take my place if it came to that. That's a sucky feeling. But, in the grand scheme of things, I am SO grateful to have such a go with the flow baby. He went to sleep with no problems tonight she said, and I only hope he'll sleep in tomorrow morning too for her. Clearly, I'm hanging on! I'm going to have to learn to embrace my growing boy or I'm going to miss out on him! 

So, I left, and went to about five different places to get Jason an anniversary dinner of California Pizza Kitchen and Cheesecake Factory cheesecake. Of course then I hit the afternoon traffic and that was annoying, but here we are. Spending our anniversary in a hospital room watching Friends, eating starbursts and skittles and drinking pepsi like the good ol days. If it weren't for our friends, we wouldn't be able to enjoy this time together, even though it's a sucky time, I at least feel better knowing I'm here with him, supporting him any way I can. We are so grateful for their help...I almost can't even put it in to words. 

As far as his pain goes, he's off all IV pain meds, and it's well controlled with oral meds. We're not sure when they'll take the hard cast off, but we're kind of hoping for tomorrow. He crutched around the halls today (I missed that) and said he felt much better getting up and moving around. He ate a real lunch, and obviously a real dinner which is a huge improvement from yesterday when I could only get him to eat two chicken noodle soup noodles. He's been sitting up in the chair for most of the day too. 

Seriously though, I keep getting deja vu or flashbacks or whatever you want to call them. I just had the thought "Ugh, I'm exhausted...I don't feel like walking back to the room..." Except that there's no walking, it's driving ~8 miles back to the Fisher House and we're in Colorado this time, not Maryland, so I can't go home this weekend, or to the beach either. Bummer. It just feels all too familiar, and almost comfortable...and weird that it feels comfortable. 

I think tomorrow will be another day of pain control, maybe a few more laps in the hallway, and a poop or two since he has nothing else planned. We're hoping to be discharged by Friday, and we're also hoping to get the cast taken off tomorrow or Friday too. 

Thanks for all your thoughts and prayers, things seem to be improving a lot faster this go round! 

Stay tuned! 

ERTL

Here we go again...under very different circumstances this time though. Leading up to the surgery, the most common comments from him were "This is just so weird; walking in to surgery perfectly healthy and then I won't be able to walk for 2 months again. I'm so not looking forward to getting put under again either. Ugh."

Once he was admitted, and in bed, he started to calm down a bit. "It's all coming back now. This is all so familiar." The doctors in and out, nurses in and out, anesthesia, plastic surgeon, etc. Except it was kind of new for me since I always missed out on that routine. They used to take him down at 4 and 5 in the morning, looooong before I got there. Most of the time he was already done with surgery by the time I got to his room.

Today, I wasn't allowed in the recovery room (as I type this, he's probably in recovery) so I hope he does ok waking up. We emphasized absolutely no ketamine! Anesthesia offered him a spinal, but he refused. Interestingly, they were going to use the same anesthetic that we use on our c-sections, so I'm very familiar with it and know that it's not as debilitating as I think he thought it would be. He said he just didn't like the feeling of pressure on his spine when they inject stuff. I tried to explain that he wouldn't be numb constantly like he was with the epidural, but that it would offer more pain control. I didn't want to be too pushy though, and he said no multiple times, that he'd rather just wait and see how he feels. As a nurse, I'm always telling patients not to be a hero, to try the pain medication before it gets out of control and you're miserable. There's a very delicate balance between being a nurse and a wife, and I'm still teetering on the edge I think. He used to get so mad at me for interrupting doctors and grilling them with questions. I think now he's gotten used to it, and he's also realized that we are his only advocate. Doctors always say they care, and they do, but in reality, this is just another day at work for them. It's so easy to forget that you're dealing with someones husband, father, son, loved one when you're doing another routine procedure that may not be routine to them. I'm guilty, so I know they are too.

When they (finally) brought him up to the room, it was kind of like deja vu and kind of nostalgic and very surreal. Here we are again I thought. At first glance, he looked exactly the same as when I saw him for the first time at Walter Reed. His leg was big and wrapped, and propped up on pillows. He had that look on his face like "I'm so happy to see you, but they won't believe that I'm in a lot of pain and if you talk to me I'm going to start crying..." Yes, I got all that from a facial expression. So they get him all settled in the room and I ask the PACU nurse how he handled coming out of the anesthesia. She said he had a hard time and was alternating between crying and not breathing enough. This happened before when he came out of surgery and had hallucinations and then they snowed him because he told the nurse his pain was "a hundred and f*cking sixty, what do you think it is?!"

Later he told me they weren't very nice to him down there which broke my heart that I couldn't be down there fighting for him. He said he tried to scratch his eye and they said "What are you doing?! Stop! You need to breathe!" Ok, yes, breathing is important, but you don't have to yell. I assume they were yelling, maybe they were just being loud and stern, but for a guy coming out of anesthesia almost in tears, my guess is yelling won't help your cause. And then he said she told him "Why are you crying?! That will only make it worse!" Oh man if I could have heard her say that. I wish he would have just told her to you-know-what and blame it on the anesthesia.

We're still struggling with the pain issue a little; I know he's in pain, but he'll wake up for about 5 minutes and have a normal conversation with me, and say he's in so much pain and that he's nauseous, but then he goes right back to sleep mid sentence. I just hope it stays controlled overnight because he'll be by himself. I hate having to leave him, but I'm missing my little boy!

We have been absolutely beyond blessed with friends who are so willing to help. Cooper has been with a friend of mine from work since last night and I can't tell you how much of a blessing that has been. Initially, I was planning on just bringing him with me and sucking it up, but after my long ass morning I realized there's no way that's going to work. He'll be with me tonight and a good portion of tomorrow morning and then I think he'll go back to her house for the afternoon.

But to be able to sit here and write this and enjoy the quiet, and not worry about chasing around my never still 16 month old, is such a blessing.

Before I leave him for the night, I hope to get him awake enough to eat something. Room service closes at seven and I don't want him waking up after it's too late and be hungry and not able to get anything. They won't let him order anything until he's able to tolerate crackers and such, but he won't even eat that for me right now. He says he just doesn't feel like eating at all..and goes back to sleep. Ha.

It's just so weird being back in this chair next to his hospital bed. I keep waiting for my mom to come through the door thinking we're back on the east coast or something. I keep forgetting we're really only 45 minutes from home home this time, and that we won't be here for 6 weeks so we better not move in. At this point, it's hard to visualize discharge time though since he's in so much pain and so out of it.

I know it will come. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.