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!

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.

Jason - Month 21

The only new, exciting, scary things happening this past month were surgery preparations. Follow ups, consultations, second opinions, army red tape, etc. Tricare is now managed by United Healthcare and of course, his surgery is falling right in the window of a big grey area where we don't really get an authorization number for the surgery because apparently United is having a hard time issuing anyone authorization numbers for any requests. So we were given a blanket waiver letter and assured his surgery will be covered by insurance. If I've learned one thing from being an army wife, it's trust no one.

We've been on the phone every single day with the surgeons office people who are supposedly in charge of the insurance portion of everything, and they've been awful. They never return my phone calls, and she's never available when we call. I keep telling Jason this is the civilian world, and things are a little different. But, I still have a hard time with the concept of it all. It shouldn't matter if we're military or civilian, if you're in the business of patient satisfaction you should do everything in your power to make sure your patients/customers are happy. These people certainly are not. That feeling makes Jason really uncomfortable about the surgery, which is understandable, but at this point, what are we to do? They didn't get us the pre-op paperwork until two weeks before the surgery, which leaves us scrambling to make last minute appointments for a pre-op history and physical and lab work, and we have to drive back up to Denver for his pre admissions stuff at the hospital. Frustrating. I always try to cluster care when I'm at work. These people certainly don't have that as a priority, and when your patient is active duty and has a 16 month old, sometimes it's hard to just drop everything and drive an hour and a half for stuff we could've had done a while ago. 

I'm hoping I'll be able to stay at the Fisher House in Denver while Jason is inpatient. According to the map, it's about 8 miles from the hospital. And I'm hoping Cooper will adjust ok, and sleep well at night because we're going to be exhausted! He keeps saying "I'm so not excited about this surgery. I just don't want to deal with this again!" But we did get a second opinion (where we also waited an hour and a half to be seen...) and even though we were pissed for having to wait that long, the doctor was really nice, and said he studied under the surgeon doing Jason's surgery. He had nothing but great things to say about him, and said he would definitely do the surgery, that it was a great idea, and Jason was a perfect candidate. So that was encouraging, and makes us feel a lot better about the whole thing. 

Now it's just a matter of preparing everything so that we're (I'm) not running around like crazy people afterwards. Having Cooper will be challenging, and I won't be able to sit at the hospital all day long with him like I used to. I'll feel terrible about that, but I know he used to get annoyed with how late I'd stay there with him because he was so tired. So Cooper and I will take advantage of the staycation and go to the Zoo which is pretty close to the hospital. Hopefully he'll have a play date or two with a friend who lives up there too! I'm just trying to figure out how I'll get over to the hospital early enough in the morning to see the doctor when he rounds. I missed the doctors almost every day when we were at Walter Reed and I can't believe I did that. But then, I was just in "get me through today" mode, and wasn't thinking big picture like I should have been. If it's anything like last time, he'll be doped up on pain meds and won't remember anyone coming in at all. 

Sadie will be boarded for about a week while we get settled back in at home, and then Jason's Dad and his wife will come for a week to help. I'll try to squeeze three shifts in while they're here to help, and hopefully we can schedule his follow up appointments around my working. Same for the rest of his recovery. My parents will be here for about three weeks, and then his mom will come in from England for a week. That should put us at about 5-6 weeks after surgery, and I doubt he'll have his leg that soon, so I'll probably have to work 8 hour shifts until he's back up and walking which is a huge bummer for me because that just means it's that much more often I'll have to get up at the crack ass of dawn for work, but it's certainly not permanent. We'll do it. We've done it before, just in different circumstances. At least we're at home this time, and he can be a little more comfortable. It's less convenient here, he won't be able to use his wheelchair anywhere because they don't make handicapped accessible baby gates, so he'll get really good at using crutches - my only rule is that he doesn't go up or down the stairs on them. 

I think it will be good. He'll be able to be more active, and he'll start to feel better about himself. 

I will try to go back to my one a day updates while he's going through his surgery and recovery. We're not a very religious family, but I never turn down prayers. 

Next time you hear from me, Jason will have a spiffy newly shaped stump and hopefully no infections! 

Jason - Month 20

You know, I am always reading about other wounded warrior wives, and how involved they are, and I often wonder if I should be like that too. It's not really my personality, but then, who really wants to be their spouses mother? And what spouse wants them to be?

But I'm starting to wonder if I need to throw myself in to it. I wanted so badly to go back to normal, and we really have almost gotten back there. I must be fooling myself. We'll never be normal again. But, I work 60 hours a pay period, and he goes to school part time. It really is quite perfect. We have a routine. Except that he needs that surgery. And now with all the Tricare switching to United Health Care or whatever it is, it's a big mess. Am I supposed to be calling them and making sure they're covering this stuff? At Walter Reed we didn't have to worry about anything. Oh, how I miss that! I don't know the first thing about dealing with insurance companies, except that I refuse to call them if at all possible. Obviously we're going out of network for this surgery and as Jason is quickly learning, dealing with civilian providers is not all it's cracked up to be. I guess since he's only known the military health system his whole life, he doesn't have a good appreciation for it. I do. I know that waiting 30-45 minutes in the doctors office waiting room is pretty normal. I know that once you get in to a room, it still means you will have to wait another 30 minutes. I also know that civilian doctors are horrible about communicating with one another. And that we will likely have to follow up over and over and over again until we get what we need. Jason doesn't quite understand all this.

(side note)
When we went to Denver to see this specialist again, we get there 45 minutes early (which was a compromise since he wanted to get there 2 HOURS ahead of time...) and the receptionist tells us "We're running about an hour behind because we had a fire drill..." great. How do we entertain a toddler for that much longer in this cramped space where everyone has a broken leg and we need to keep him from touching them all?! It was hot, and miserable, and Cooper was so done by the time the PA came in to answer our questions. The PA. Not the surgeon. I was so irritated. Then they get there and make it seem like this surgery is no big deal and everything will be fine, and I've all but lost my train of thought and cannot remember any of the questions I wanted to ask because I did not listen to my mother and write down a list of the questions beforehand.
(end of side note)

Nevertheless, they make it sound like this will be a walk in the park...no pun intended...and everything will likely turn out fine. But we can't help but worry. I'm probably worrying profusely, while he worries a couple times a day, but that's just the difference between he and I. I worry when I go to bed at night, and when I wake up in the morning. I worry during my work days, and during my off days. I worry every.single.day. I worry that his immune system isn't strong enough. That they'll open his leg up and cut off that bone and stir up something nasty and he'll loose more of his leg. I worry that he'll end up loosing his knee because the infection will spread. I worry that he won't even come out of the operating room because I've seen too many episodes of Grey's Anatomy where all kinds of weird and uncommon shit happens. I worry that he won't have enough antibiotics on board and he'll get an infection after we're already home, 2 hours away from the hospital. I mean he just got his wisdom teeth out and got an infection. It seems like he's always sick. I worry that it won't help his pain. I worry that he'll struggle with nerve pains again. I worry that it will make his pain worse, and then I'll take full responsibility because I'll feel like it's my fault for getting the ball rolling and scheduling it in the first place.

And it happens to be his twentieth month out from injury. The same month that the gentleman from Walter Reed died in after his injury. Now, every morning, and sometimes in the middle of the night, I wake up and make sure he's still breathing. Or make him call me or text me so I know he's ok.

I know that mentality doesn't help, and I'm trying to change my mindset because that will just drive a person crazy. And the whole reason for all this worrying is that we planned this surgery. We have a date, and it's over a month away still. But we have all this time to sit here and think about every single what if. The last time we were in this situation we didn't have time to think about the what ifs. I was still in survival mode. The thought "What if he gets an infection and looses his entire leg?" NEVER crossed my mind. Seriously. All I could think about was "When is the next surgery? What are they going to do? What is the plan? What are all his medications and when does he take them? Is his pain controlled?..." It was a surgery every other day for a couple weeks, and it was routine. He got to the point of enjoying being put under.

More and more he feels so defeated. He's all but given up an active lifestyle because he just doesn't think he can anymore. It's one infection after another, or another Army red tape line to cross. He said "I've never been that guy. I was never the guy to go to sick call or even go to the doctor. Now I'm living at the hospital." I've told him over and over, and even when he was still inpatient at Walter Reed, that we would be in and out of the hospital for the rest of our lives. I don't think even I fully understood the extent of what I was saying. But now I do. Where ever we decide to settle down, we'll have to make sure there's a military hospital nearby. We don't have to, but it will make it easier.

More and more I feel like I'm stretching to find the right words to say to him. It's harder and harder for me to be encouraging because I'm feeling it too. Another infection ultimately means more work for me. Yes, that's selfish and borderline bitchy, but it's true. "I chose this life, I can't complain." But watch me.

Jason's response to the Boston Marathon Bombings was "That sucks. I know what they're feeling. Except that when I deployed, I knew there was a chance of getting hurt. They all just went there to cheer on family and friends and now look what they have to deal with the rest of their lives." He said everyone at school was asking him if he was ok. Of course he is. There's no PTSD on his records. He thinks about it every single day. "If only I had just stepped 3 inches to the left..." I know for a fact that goes through his head at least once a day. If he's thinking about what I'm thinking about it's the "Oh man, these people have no idea what's in store for them over the next couple of months. Please God give them strength to get through it, and their families to stand by and support them as they go through this recovery that will take so much longer than they ever imagined."

We are still recovering.
And we're clearly far from done.

Jason - Month 18

A little late, but that's ok.

We took a trip to Seattle to argue our case about Jason's disability rating. It was stressful to say the least, getting everything in order last minute to go, travel logistics with a toddler, and switching around my schedule at work. It was worth it, I hope. It seems like it will be, but we won't officially know for another couple of weeks.

It was intimidating to go in and sit in front of the board. Jason was so nervous. He did such a good job, though. His lawyer was really excited when we were all done. There were so many formalities, and I felt like I was in another world. It was all recorded, and so at the beginning they had to say certain things as part of the official record. It sounded so weird. We were in a conference room with three people on each side of the table. So it wasn't like we were on trial or anything, but I know Jason was nervous sitting across from a full bird colonel with a booming voice.

He explained what happened, in detail, and explained each of his injuries and how they would prohibit him from doing his job as an infantryman. I remember him saying "...I would basically become a burden to my other soldiers, and that isn't safe." I felt so bad for him in that moment. I know this is taking a lot out of him, and he wants to get out of the Army so bad right now after dealing with the all the WTU crap, but to hear him accept defeat like that broke my heart a little bit.

In the end, in their official format and booming voices, the president of the board deemed Jason unfit for duty with a total of five unfitting conditions. Again, he hung his head and I could just see his entire Army career flashing before his eyes. He'd never let it truly sink in that he's giving up a huge part of his life, because then he'd have to face the fact that his future is still uncertain. That, and he's just a guy, he'd never be emotional about such things. My heart still broke for him in that moment.

They never interviewed me, I guess Jason's account was detailed enough. I certainly would have loved to give my two cents though. I think we all know that!

And, can I say - Thank God for the Ventura family! If it wasn't for them, I'm not sure what we would've done with Cooper while we were at the hearing. That would've been interesting, to have a 13 month old crawling around an official hearing. We are forever indebted to them for watching him that day!

Now we wait.

And in the mean time, we get to make the following decisions:

Jason needs another surgery. Do we do it in Denver, or back at Walter Reed, or somewhere else?
Our lease on our current rental house is up this summer. I'm over this house.
Do we move to another house in Colorado Springs? Do we buy? Or keep renting?
Do we use our final Army move to move back East and be closer to family for help when needed?
Or do we use it to move ~20 miles away?
Do we stay here and let Jason finish up school but be painfully far from built in babysitters (and the beach!)?

Sounds like fun?

Not so much. It's caused Jason and I to argue more than we've ever argued in our relationship. Every day we have another idea about whether or not we should stay or go. (there are a lot more factors to be weighed in to our decisions than I've listed)

The surgery is called an Ertl, and involves cutting his tibia to be of equal length to his fibula and then using the cut bone to bridge the two together. This results in a much stronger base for him to bear weight on instead of the very sharp tibia that most of his weight ends up on currently. This would shorten the nub a couple inches, and then they'd revise the scar as well. He would be without a leg for 6-8 weeks, and when he is cleared for weight bearing again, he'd have to go through the prosthetic fitting process all over again. They tell us the swelling wouldn't be near as bad as it was last time, so hopefully the process wouldn't be as long. I do know it will be a pain, and Jason will likely be in pain again, and he's not excited about that. The problem lies in the fact that he wouldn't be able to crutch around the house and hold Coop at the same time. We'd need help if I plan on working, and I think our families have agreed to help, I just hope we can cover the amount of time he'd be out of commission.

This also means we'd probably have to miss our highly anticipated beach trip :( I can't tell you how disappointed I am about that, but this surgery won't be an annual thing either, so we will survive another year without the sun, sand, and salt water.

When I look back on the last 18 months, it feels like 10 years have passed. I'm tired. Just tired of making big life changing decisions, or adjusting to another new normal, or planning something we didn't plan on planning. Such is life, and we're not the only ones with heartache and hardships, I'm well aware. But sometimes I'd just love to not worry about anything, and just sit on the beach without having to worry about when we'll be able to afford to come back.

I'd also love to be newlyweds again. We still haven't even been married for three years, and when people ask, I have to think twice before I speak, because I could swear it's been at least five. I just want to be young(ish) and married with our first baby. And that's it. No leg junk to throw in to the mix.

It's the month of love, but it's been more of a bah humbug kind of month in this house!

Jason - Month 17

I mean, this looks like a scar to you, right? 

Well, we get to uproot our family for three days, lug a one year old and all his crap, piss people off at work because I'll have to change my schedule last minute, and Jason will have to miss a day of class, to go up to Fort Lewis and argue that this needs to be in his file because the VA failed to recognize this painful scar.

Let me tell you, this scar has gotten way worse. I wish I took monthly pictures of Jason's scars like I do of our son. I have one from right after the surgery, but not too many after that. At least that I can find in the 11,500 pictures I just organized the other day. There has always been an open area on part of his scar. When he was still in the hospital, the occupational therapists told me I could pick all his scabs so long as they were ready to come off. Every night, we'd sit and pick and pick and pick. So much so that I'd have to ask to have his sheets changed because of all the skin flakes and scabs that had fallen off. It. was. gross. Nevertheless, there was one really dark scab about an inch long that was really deep, and took forever to come off. In the picture to the right, it's the darker spot towards the right side of that scar. When it did fall off, there was a little cavern as Jason likes to say, left. They explained that the scar had kind of folded in on itself, and that's just how it would heal. It never gave him any problems, and was mostly just really gross looking, until recently.

Now, it's painful, and obviously way bigger than when he started. When he puts his leg on, the scar spreads apart and is almost unbearable for him. He limps a lot, which is not good for his hips, and most of the time will just take the leg off if we're at home. And let me remind you, we have a one year old who requires baby gates. Jason has already face planted in the kitchen from hopping around the house and missing the ledge from the baby gate. He's promised me he wouldn't hop anymore, the last thing we need is another injury on top of this one, but that only lasted about a week before he decided getting his crutches from upstairs was way too much work since he'd have to go upstairs on the painful leg.

See how the folds are continuing up his nub now? Never there before. I don't know what's going on, but this will likely require a surgical revision, if not more than one, which will mean no leg wearing for at least a couple weeks each time. I'm not sure if you've tried, but carrying a one year old while using crutches is not advised, especially if I'm your wife. So, that would mean no work for me.

And the VA apparently forgot about giving this scar any sort of rating. The scar on the leg that he's missing half of. They just decided it wasn't going to give him any problems ever, I guess.

And, pictured above, also a 0% rating. These injuries apparently don't affect his daily living, so they don't deserve compensation. Just don't even get me started.

Back and forth, back and forth, that's how we've spent this month. "No, it won't make a difference whether or not you go to Fort Lewis, the outcome will be the same." "Are you kidding me? It makes a huge difference if you show up here in person!" Great. So three weeks before his formal hearing, we're deciding last minute to go. Trying to figure out childcare for the time we're in the hearing, and rearranging our lives for the billionth time for the Army.

Jason does not handle this stress well; I seem to thrive on it which seems odd. It kind of motivates me to prioritize things that need to be done now, and things that can wait. I refuse to come out on the other side of all this and wonder if we did everything we could. I want to know that we're doing everything we can now, before it's too late and we're sitting at home with our thumbs up our assess saying 'coulda, shoulda, woulda'!

We're trying hard to stay positive, to not jump down each others throats in the midst of all this, and to count our blessings. We have wonderful plans for life after the Army, but we are really trying to keep things in perspective as we know the Army generally has very different plans.

For now, the VA claim is our focus, because it will determine how the rest of our lives are lived in financial terms. I know the light is at the end of the tunnel, and while that is a very scary thing, it is something else to look forward to.

Jason - Month 16

I always remember the 13th of every month. Partly because it reminds me that I'm another month older, but mostly because it's another month of alive-ness for my husband. So we're sixteen months out from when our lives changed forever, and it feels like it's been five years already.

We had another group Thanksgiving at our house, like we did two years ago. Most of our Army friends have PCS'd away, but a few remain, and it was wonderful to get together with everyone in a pretty low key dinner. Jason cooked the turkey, and did a fabulous job. 

A couple of nights later, we were all asleep and Jason shot up out of nowhere which startled and woke me. Before I could ask him what was wrong or grab his arm, he was on the floor screaming. Apparently he had some sort of dream or nightmare, and he got up to try to walk, and went to step with his right leg which of course has no foot, so 225lbs landed on the nub, which happens to have fairly sharp bone underneath there. It's not made to support that much weight either. Needless to say, the fall woke him, but he couldn't control his pain. I was on the floor next to him within seconds, and my heart was racing. I didn't know what to do for him. We tried ice, but it was way too sensitive and he couldn't have anything touch it. I fed him motrin, and got him back in bed. The next day it was bruised, and obviously sore, but he could still walk which was encouraging. No one pushed him to get an x-ray, and I didn't either for a couple weeks.

In hindsight, I wish I had pushed it. And I wish his nurse case manager had too. There should be a standard of care for lower limb amputees, that if they fall on the residual limb it is an automatic x-ray whether you like it or not. I made him go a couple weeks later when he showed me a fluid filled perfect circle on the edge of his nubby. Thank goodness there was no broken bone. They think maybe there was some scar tissue that was knocked loose and was floating around in there though. 

On a slow day at work, I decided I'd had enough of Jason not getting any prosthetic care. For some reason I had let it go far too long. I don't know if it was being busy with Cooper, work, or just life, but I let that one get away from me, and I definitely shouldn't have. In my defense, he shouldn't have either. It's hard for me to explain to him how important it is that he take care of that leg, because it is much more prone to infection and injury. And if anything happens to it, he won't be able to wear his leg, and there goes walking or driving for who knows how long. It's kind of a big deal. Our house is definitely NOT handicapped accessible, is two stories, and they don't make baby gates with openings wide enough for wheel chairs, that's for sure. But, in his eyes, I'm being too mothering or I'm nagging if I ask/tell him to take care of his leg. "I knowwwww, I've got this under control..." is the answer I usually get. 

Anyway, I googled prosthetists in the area and got quite a few results which is interesting since at the WTU, they told him he'd have to go to Denver for his care. They were "trying" to get him an appointment with the VA in Denver which was going no where. His nurse case manager called, I called, he called, you never got to speak to an actual person, and then they would call us back and say "we'll call you in the next 4 days with an appointment." Four days would come and go and still we wouldn't hear back. I called a few places in the area and one woman talked to me for at least 30 minutes about the process to get him care there, and the processes we'd have to go through. Sounded easy enough which pissed me off that they've waited this long and it could have been done in the area in less than a week. It was 8 months of no prosthetic care! Completely unacceptable. This woman even gave me all of the Tricare insurance codes so that instead of having the initial appointment and then deciding what supplies he might need, and having to put in for approval for all those supplies and then coming back a second time to get them, he could just get it all done the first time. We went, and were there for two hours while they adjusted and measured and figured out a plan of care. They decided the way his scar is healing may require a revision which stresses me out a tad thinking about recovery time. It would only be a couple weeks provided the procedure went well. But the time daddy is out of commission or using his crutches around the house (I hate seeing him come down the stairs on his crutches, I'm on the edge of my seat waiting for the next fall) would be a little stressful with a pre toddler. It is doable, and if it needs to be done, it needs to be done. His scar never healed cleanly, there's one part that kind of folded in on itself, and while all of the skin is closed, there is a big cavern that can open and close when he puts his leg in his socket and it can be painful for him. He also worries about infection there. 

My brother, the connection connoisseur and triathlete met a double amputee who completed two Ironman races at one of his triathlon events. He struck up a conversation, exchanged emails, and he referred us to his leg guy in Denver. Turns out, this guy used to work at Walter Reed, and actually adjusted Jason a couple times while his normal prosthetist was out. So, if all else fails, we can suck up the drive, and go see someone who we know will be great. Small world, though huh!

We opted to stay in Colorado for Christmas, and thank goodness, because we're struggling to budget ourselves with this new (and less!) income. With talk of baby #2 in the near future, budgeting and money is a daily conversation in our house. I can't say I enjoy it much at all. Mom Mom and Pop Pop came out to see us instead, so my mom has kept Jason busy. It was a culture shock for him at first, but now he enjoys all the productivity...or so he says. 

We are planning a beach trip next summer, and I am already looking forward to that after missing it the last two summers, I am more than ready to be down there. More than ready. 

Jason completed his first college class and I am so proud of him! It only took us four years of arguing for him to start. Once he started, he got the bug, and now he's so excited. It was an 8 week class held on post so it was a night class which sucked with my work schedule, but we survived it. It was a preliminary English class since he didn't quite test out of it in the placement test, but he got an A, did all his homework on time, and never slacked or took the easy way out for projects. I am excited for him for next semester because he's signed up for two classes this time, and they're at the actual campus instead. I think he'll feel much better being there, where it's less Army and more regular students. He'll have morning classes twice a week, and I think he'll do great. He's hoping to go to school full time once he gets out of the Army and I'm sure that will be pretty hard, but I think we can make it through :) 

His formal hearing for his VA rating is 5 February where he'll do a video conference and explain to them why he believes he deserves 100% disability rating instead of the 80% they gave him initially. I think I am to go with him and explain how this injury affects our every day life. We're more worried about 15-20 years down the road, and how his body will deteriorate faster and his mobility will decrease much quicker than normal. Hopefully it goes well because that's how we're basing our financial decisions for the future right now. 

This time last year, we were at home and Jason was withdrawing from whatever medication he was still on, but I think it was one of his last ones. I remember him laying in bed all day with fever, chills, and nausea, and convinced he was getting sick. We were sleeping late, napping, and eating a lot of wonderful home cooking anxiously awaiting the arrival of our first baby. Long gone are the days of sleeping late and napping! But we have a wonderful boy in exchange for that. 

This month, we're excited to celebrate our first Christmas in this house, and as a family of three. 

Happy Holidays to you and yours! xoxo

Jason - Month 14

Holy busy life, batman! 

We have been real busy these past few months. I'm sure I've mentioned all the trips we've been on in past blogs. Our biggest trip was to Texas so Jason could play in the Warrior Open hosted by George W. Bush in Dallas. Say what you will regarding politics, but this was an absolutely amazing experience. 

Let me back up a few months. 

When we got back to Colorado, Jason got really in to playing golf again. Like, playing 3-4 times a week. I was google searching one night, and just searched for tournaments in the area for military. The Warrior Open website came up, and I started reading about it, and all the events that took place last year. Jason thought it was just a one time deal since the scores were still up from last year. But there were 2012 dates, and they weren't until September. Oh you better believe I bookmarked that page, and checked it every single day until the application date was set. We applied, and didn't think we'd actually get picked. We waited and waited, and finally had to email to ask the status because it was getting fairly close, and he needed to know whether or not to put paperwork in for TDY. Jason was the first one to be called and invited, and she said "George Bush is really excited to play golf with you!" 

It was a 5 day, all expenses paid, 36 hole golf tournament especially for wounded warriors. If you could plan a trip - a golf trip - this is how it would've gone. Seriously, it was that good. It was a whirlwind, and went by way too fast, but it was also SO fun. The organization was ridiculous. All of GW's worker bees had huge binders on them at all times, and everyone knew everyone in our family by name, especially Cooper. They could answer any question I could possibly muster up right there on the spot. They greeted us at the hotel and said all of our special requests had been taken care of, and they definitely were. We stayed at the Four Seasons, and felt totally out of our league. We fidgeted when the bellhop guy brought our bags to our room and took the laundry to be pressed. We ate room service Texas Pecan Chocolate Chip Pie and Pepperoni Pizza on the floor of the hotel room so we wouldn't wake Cooper (who is very hard to get to sleep in a hotel room, by the way). We walked around and basked in the humidity of Texas, and enjoyed the less-itchy-because-it's-not-as-dry Jason. 

Photo courtesy of warrior open.com

Jason felt like a professional golfer, and loved every second of it. Chiropractors were walking around asking if anyone needed adjustments after each day of golf. He refused every single time even though I was practically begging him to give it a try. The members of the Las Colinas Country Club were allowed in to watch and participate, which made it feel even more professional like, because he had 'fans'. People were walking around watching him play and following his games. One guy came up to me and said "Is he the one tied for second? I saw his shot on nine, and now this one, and he looks really good!" Sadly, he was not tied for second, but I still thought that was cool that this guy was following him. The first tee off was pretty nerve wracking; he was surrounded by at least 350 people, and the guy who held up the 'Quiet' sign, and an announcer who said his name and where he was from, and George W. right behind him watching. No pressure. Just hit the ball. That's all I was thinking. I don't care where it goes, just hit it. And Cooper, please don't choose this time to scream! They provided me with my own cart to follow him around for all 18 holes each day. Cooper's MiMi was a very helpful babysitter for the last nine holes of each day so I could finish watching Jason play. Tom Watson was there the second day, and was at one of the holes offering his advice. When Jason teed off that day, I videoed GW talking to 'some guy' (that's what I called him since I had no idea it was Tom Watson, or who that even is). He said "He's got a good swing!" And GW replied "Yeah, he's a really good player" They went on to have a conversation about him but I couldn't hear what they were saying. 

That was one of those moments where you're not really sure what your husband does, or if what he does is good compared to everyone else - I've seen him play golf, but I sure as hell don't know what's good and what's not - (I knew he wasn't horrible if he was getting asked to play with some older men in our town, and we were getting invited to his house and such) - so when they had that little conversation, my heart just throbbed with joy for him! I was so proud of him! 

The ninth hole proved difficult both days for him, but he improved the second day at least. His putting was costing him a lot of pars and he said he was having trouble 'reading the greens'. That's about as far as my golf talk goes. I do know that he played the worst I've ever seen him play on that first day, and rightfully so. If you were playing with George W. watching you, you'd probably be a little nervous too.  We were treated to a special dinner at GW's house, with Jay Leno as a guest as well. We had fried catfish and steak on his front lawn, and listened to a stand up routine from Jay Leno afterwards. We got to see a private show by the Eli Young band after another special dinner with GW on the last night we were there. 

The event was really perfect. I just can't express to you how much we appreciated everything they were doing for us. I'm just not sure how to put it in to words. To be given that opportunity, and treated like that, is something everyone dreams of. We didn't do anything to deserve that, except have a bit of bad luck. We certainly hope to participate in that event as long as they will allow us to, but understand we may not be lucky enough to experience it more than once. I do believe the event will grow and get bigger and bigger each year, although I hope they don't allow too many more guys to participate at once. It was already so big with only 22 participating warriors. To make it bigger, would take away all the personal touches that were afforded. So I'm sure soon, getting accepted to participate will get harder and harder. 

Long story short, he handled everything so well. He would be the most humble famous guy ever. He gave an impromptou speech in front of at least 250 people including the president, teed off twice in front of crowds (and GW and Tom Watson!), smiled after missing countless birdie (?!) putts, and continued to be a positive role model for a lot of people, including myself. 

Photo courtesy of warrioropen.com 

We said multiple times throughout the trip how amazed we were that we were even there. It was hard to soak it all in. When Jason was down on himself for missing those putts, I tried my best to be supportive since I know nothing about golf. "Just soak it in, babe, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, make the experience everything you want it to be." We reminisced about 14 months ago, and how we never, ever, thought this is where we'd be. Back then, our outlook for the future was pretty gloomy and didn't go much further past 2 or 3 months. Now, we are amazed at how far we've come in such a short amount of time. We often wonder where we will be this time next year.

Phew, I guess I'll stop with the Texas trip. I'm sure you're all bored to death with that. We also went home for a weekend which was a long trip for such a short amount of time. We squeezed in playdates, weddings, and crab feasts though. It was a lot of fun, and very busy again, but it was nice to be home for a little bit and see everyone. 

In other Jason news, he's still itchy. Awesome. This has been going on since February, and still the best explanation is Eczema. He still does is nightly cocktail of creams and steroid creams and foams and ointments. Nothing is really making it all go away. 

He's miserable in the WTU, and I've finally had to step in. I only hope it gets resolved soon. He got his 'unfit for duty' rating back, and today he got his disability rating which he doesn't agree with so he'll probably have to appeal that in the near future. He's not excited about returning to the Army and not being in the infantry, but he's excited about working again. 

I'm excited for that too, although I have to say, I've been very spoiled with how our schedule has been lately. He's able to pick Cooper up from daycare early in the day which is wonderful because I refuse to have him there all day long. He's usually free to do things any day of the week. 

I'm scared to see where our future is going to take us. I've become so used to this place, and after three years, we call it home now. Is that how every Army station is? Do you find the perfect job, and friends and your favorite nail place and hair dresser and grocery store and fast food place and mall all in a new city? Every time you move? What if you don't find friends? Or the perfect job? What if it's not the same as you've been used to? These are the thoughts that have been consuming my mind lately as we talk about this changing jobs thing for Jason, that means we'll likely be moving soon, and by soon I mean in the next year or two. Which is soon for me. I need a good 5 years to prepare. I don't know why I'm stressing so bad; I picked up and moved out here not knowing anyone three years ago, and look now. I have a bunch of great friends; many with babies Coopers age so we have fun play dates. My job is ideal. That's probably my biggest worry. I don't know where I will find another employer so willing to work with me like they have been here. I absolutely LOVE my job here. Love it. Not ready to say good bye to that. Found my favorite hair dresser, nail salon, waxer, Target, Safeway, Chick-Fil-A, outlet mall, etc. 

Let's put it this way - when I go 'home' and see all the Virginia license plates, it looks weird. When I come back here, and see all the green and white Colorado license plates, it feels like I'm home. And that's weird - so I know that wherever we move next, I will be able to feel home, it will just take a while. But it's even scarier with Cooper now, wondering how he will adjust, and if we will find a house with enough room to call home again just like we've found this one. Will his room be as cozy as it is here? Ah, the joys of a military wife. This would be our first true military family move, though. 

So I've been rambling. A lot. I'm sorry. It's been a long day, a long week rather, even though I only work two shifts a week these days. I'm off to love on my husband while we watch Friends as we do every single night. (I remember when Nick@Nite had I Love Lucy on...not a show that was on when I was younger. I feel old) 

omg. It's the leather pants episode. You all know what I'm talking about. :) 

Jason - 1 Year

Holy Moly, a year! Can you believe it? I can't. It really feels like just yesterday I was running around here in a tizzy trying to get things together to go see my injured husband.

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I'm going to warn you right now - I've never posted this picture anywhere on the internet. It's very graphic, and if you're squeamish in any way, DON'T look at it. I periodically look back at this picture in amazement of what he's been through, and how far he's come.

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Upon arrival to WRNMMC at Bethesda

8.18.11 - First time I saw him - always smiling :)

Countless surgeries, who knows how many different kinds of drugs, three sockets, four prosthetics, infection after infection (still), migraines, months of occupational and physical therapy, two trips to the White House, a couple trips to the ER, a baby born, one trip to the Pentagon, a couple trips to the OBX, a road trip back across the country, and here we are back to 'normal' a year later.

We celebrated his 'alive day' a couple days early since more people would be able to participate on the weekend instead of during the work week. We did the Incline - it's no joke. He's done it once since he's been back with a couple guys, and he did it much faster than we did it this time. He's not at 100% right now, we're in the process of trying to figure out what's going on. But, he finished it, and that's all that matters. Because, a year ago, laying in the hospital bed, with everything but his right arm numb from epidurals and nerve blocks, he never even imagined a year from then he'd be back in Colorado, doing the Incline. He was still trying to figure out how to poop by himself. I'd say he's come a long way, wouldn't you?

We've definitely had disappointments, moments where we would give anything to have his leg back, and the feelings of "why me" or "why us". But with this turn our life has taken, so many new opportunities have opened up for us that we never would have dreamt about before.  He will play in the Warrior Open in September with George W. Bush; no pressure there. He has the opportunity to change his job in the Army to virtually anything, it's just a matter of trying to decide what. The world is at our fingertips even moreso now than it was before. Unfortunately some people view this as undeserved or get jealous of the opportunities, and we're still learning to deal with how that hurts. We try so hard not to act differently or talk excessively about who we've met and what we've been able to do but those are the kinds of things you want to be able to share with your friends. And I guess if they can't handle it, they shouldn't be considered friends anyway. We're just trying to figure out how to live this new normal with humility and grace.

We are so blessed with the people we've met out here in Colorado, almost everyone has been absolutely wonderful throughout this whole process. Unfortunately its PCS season, and I'm reminded every time I leave our house and see at least 3 moving trucks at different houses, that a lot of our really close friends here are getting ready to move :( I still have work friends, but I'm very worried for Jason after everyone leaves. He has a really hard time relating to the guys in the WTU here, and there isn't a sense of camaraderie or the kind of cohesion you'll find in a regular infantry unit.

We will continue to grow and strengthen our marriage together. We will continue to find joy in the simplest things because we know how quickly they can be taken away. We will continue to be strong, loving parents for Cooper, because he deserves nothing less. Most of all, I hope we will continue on this new journey by each others side, with respect, devotion, and more love than we ever thought possible.

The start of The Incline - 8.11.12

Differences

Perhaps this is not the best time for me to be writing a blog.

I was overwhelmed with emotions, though, and couldn't help it.

I feel our friends slipping away, and I hate that. I hate *almost* everything that has happened to us in the past year. No one wishes to go through this, no one wishes to know what it's like. Well, most people don't anyway.

Do I want everyone to bow down, feel sorry, and invite us to every event ever? No. But, do I feel offended and like its because of his injury that we're (or he's) not invited some places? Yes.

I'm not quite sure how to remedy this other than to just get over it and grow up.

I know he feels it. He just doesn't put it out there like I do.

Maybe one day we'll be completely accepted wherever we end up, and I can't wait for that day.

Remember almost a year ago when I was staying how I couldn't wait until we were out of the hospital; well now I'm saying I can't wait until we're accepted by society as normal again.

Here I sit, on the verge of tears, while he's upstairs asleep, not knowing (or caring) the difference. Maybe I'm just crazy. Or maybe he's just not telling me everything. I just know I'd be in full fledge tears if I saw my closest friends doing something obviously planned without me in mind. (Take me back to high school, Stephanie!) I know, that's what it seems like. The more I read what I'm writing, the more I know I shouldn't even be posting this at all. Hey, whatever, it will make for entertaining reading tomorrow right?!

For as many emotions as I am feeling, I certainly seemed to sum it up in those few paragraphs! Shocking.

Thank you to those who have always treated us as if we were normal. Because we are.

What is normal anyway?!

Jason - Month 11

I think I missed month 10 because it fell on my birthday, and well, frankly, I was pouting on my birthday. We'll leave it at that :)

Hard to believe next month will be the year mark. Never EVER thought we'd be here. I remember it like it was yesterday. Where I was when I got the news, how I sat at the kitchen table and scribbled questions on random pieces of junk mail as they came to mind. I remember all those days sitting in the hospital in the most uncomfortable chairs wondering what the end of all this would feel like. And now we're here. Not really at the end, but far from where we began.

Sadly, we've already had to feel some negative effects of all this. Besides the obvious life changing events, there are the things that no one really ever thinks of in situations like this. I'm not quite sure how to put it without jumping on the gossip train either, so I'll try my best.

Jason said to me the other day, "Sometimes I think we should've just stayed at Walter Reed." His point being, we were so hoping to come back here and return to normal, except that we're far from normal anymore. I know I've written that before, and probably in exactly those same words, but now reality is setting in, and we're living it. At Walter Reed, we were normal. We got to go on special outings, and he probably would've been selected for many different awards, and received all kinds of extra attention. Walter Reed is one of the biggest military hospitals, and it's right outside of DC. It's where famous people go for their 'good deed checklist' - ok I made that up, but that's what it felt like sometimes. That's neither here nor there, the real point of this whole paragraph is this: No one there would ever judge us for getting special treatment. 


Unfortunately, we've encountered that here. Jason relates it to the HBO series The Pacific. If you've seen it, you know the main guy (I don't know it well enough) gets the medal of honor, and gets brought home from deployment to go around and be a spokesperson I guess (I could be way off here, sorry). So his friends get upset that he's at home getting all this attention while they're still there doing the dirty work and not getting any recognition at all. Same story applies to us. Jason has said that from the get go; he's always been afraid his friends would get mad at him for getting to do cool things, or getting nice benefits because they were the ones who were deployed the whole year, away from their family and friends. Honestly, he would even get upset when I'd post pictures to Facebook of the different things we were doing. He was so afraid he'd upset his friends who were still in Afghanistan. I empathized, but honestly never thought we'd have to deal with that personally. I always reminded him that yes, they were all deployed for a year, and yes it is insanely difficult, but after that year is over, the deployment is over. After this year is over, you will still have no leg. This is something you will have to deal with for the rest of your life, and no one will ever know what that's like, not even your closest friends. Unless they've gone through it too.

I still don't think people fully recognize the agony that is an amputation. All his friends are back now, and they're (mostly) all treating him like they normally would. I think part of this has to do with the fact that Jason acts just like he used to, and doesn't let his leg affect him. He's not a complainer, so they don't see that side of him either. He's still dealing with the mysterious itching, he sleeps in long pants and cotton gloves every night. Anyone who knows him knows his core temperature is about 400 degrees, so sleeping in long pants and gloves isn't exactly awesome. He's still taking medication to help him sleep because of the itching. He is struggling daily with motivation to get back to the gym, because at the WTU, PT is a joke. It seems like each time he goes back to the doctor, he's got a new infection of some sort, so he's constantly on antibiotics. His immune system is terrible. He's struggling even more with figuring out where this new path in his life is going to take him, and it's taking a toll on our marriage all at the same time. It's not all fun and games to go and get your leg blown off, kids.

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On a positive note, I'm back at work PRN, which is absolutely fabulous. I've been working 3-4 shifts in a two week period and I love it. I'm not there long enough to dread going back, so every time I go to work, I feel like I have a great attitude (which for anyone who knows me, knows this is a huge thing)!

Cooper is in daycare only when I work or have to run errands without him. Jason is usually able to pick him up early so he's never there the full day, and has never been 5 days a week since he started.

Sadie is adjusting, although probably not as well. Her grandfather was much more attentive to her, and so she misses that, I'm sure. We take her to the dog park when we can, and we've been boarding her when we are gone for long periods during the weekend so she'll get to play with other dogs more. She seems to love that, so that's good.

We're planning our big BBQ to have as celebration when his one year marks comes around. Some people call it an "alive day", but we're calling it "One Year with One Leg". We're going to hike up the Incline to show everyone just how far he's come in his recovery, and then have a typical Army style BBQ with beer pong and corn hole at our house that night. I'm excited; we've been dying to have people over since we got back but everyone always beats us to the punch.

All in all, life is good. We're trying to consciously remember that each day. Even though it sucks, it could be even worse. So we're practicing being grateful for the gifts we have been given.

Independence Day

This is the first July 4th we've spent together since we met almost 5 years ago. And there will be no fireworks anywhere close. Bummer. 

But we have our family, and we will celebrate that. We are together, and free, and healthy, and alive. That's a lot to celebrate these days as there seems to be so much negative happening around us. 

Happy Independence Day from a family who knows first hand the sacrifice made for our freedom.

Readjusting

Whenever we tell our story (which is often now that we're back in Colorado), people usually hang their mouths open, and say "Wow, you guys are amazing. You've been through so much." But here's the thing; it's only just begun.

The physical recovery was step one. Now we're on to the mental recovery, and that includes me. We had a lot of life changing events happen within one year, enough to make any young newlywed couple question their marriage. But now that we're trying to get back in to life again, I'm finding it harder and harder.

When we were at Walter Reed, I had a lot of control. A lot. And I liked it. No, I loved it. I got to go with him to all of his appointments, and be the annoying wife asking a billion questions while he got more and more irritated with me. But at least I was able to hear everything the doctors were saying myself. Now, we're back to the regular Army in that he goes to 'work' in the morning, and meets with his Nurse Case Manager or Social Worker or whatever the flavor of the day may be, and I stay home and take care of Cooper or go to work myself. Now I have no control over what he does or doesn't do during the day. I realize that sounds terrible, like I'm mothering him way too much. I know I am. But you have to understand I just spent the last 8 months being at this mans beck and call, and making sure he did everything necessary to get back to Colorado when he wanted to, and making sure he covered all his medical bases while we were in Bethesda. I'm a woman. I like control.

So our days go like this:

If wife works all day, her phone is in her locker due to the horrible new scrub situation at work, and the phone falls out of her pocket all the time, so she just decided to forego the phone in pocket deal, and leave it in her locker for fear of it falling in a toilet or something. Therefore, the wife doesn't get to nag the husband all day long.

When the wife gets home, the husband is usually cooking her dinner which is absolutely divine even though she doesn't recognize it at the time. The wife proceeds to nail him with question after question about whether or not he asked about his leave paperwork, if the WTU has tickets to this event or that event, are there any events we can sign up for and get involved in, what about the warrior open, how the placement test taking is going, when he thinks he will register for classes, does he know infant CPR and what to do in case baby chokes, etc.

(I'm serious.)

The husband is then thoroughly annoyed that the wife did not appreciate his cooking dinner for her, and is even more irritated that she's interrupting his movie watching (even though he's seen it 45 times), and the attitudes flare, and it all goes downhill.

Our days end separately now; either with him playing video games until really late and with me going to bed first, or vice versa (except I sure as hell don't play video games. I Facebook.) It's sad, but it's the only way we can make it to the next day without staying mad at one another.

This is hard. 


We are both so sensitive, no matter what the other person says, it is taken the wrong way. When will we grow out of that? We admire so many other marriages where they tell each other like it is, and instead of taking offense, a good laugh is had, and an honest effort is made to fix the problem and move on. No looking back, no resentment.

We're trying. It's just so hard, not to mention the hormonal adjustments I'm feeling after Cooper. I'm sure that doesn't help. 

No matter what, I'll stand by him, I may be negative, but I've never been much of a quitter. 

Things We've Learned So Far...

I said to Jason the other day, "There have been so many things lately that I've done, that I'm so pissed at myself for. I should know better by now."

Some of these things include, but are not limited to:

- When your husband puts his iPhone in his swimsuit pocket. Just don't let him. Be a nag, and tell him to put it in the pool bag right that second instead. Because you will forget to remind him to take it out of his pocket, and he will swim laps with it in there.

- Back up said iPhone so all your important information is not lost forever after it's submerged.

- Get insurance on your next iPhone. And if it happens again, don't tell them you went swimming with it. Tell them it fell in a big deep puddle, and it took a while to fish it out.

- When your mattress pad has plastic in it because it's the waterproof one...don't put it in the dryer. It will melt. Duh.

- When your husband finishes the Tough Mudder race, don't wash his muddy clothes with all your normal clothes. You will ruin most of the once normal clothes.

- When you have a handicapped placard and you park in a handicapped spot; be sure to make the placard visible. Otherwise, you will get a $350 ticket.

- When you have 20% off coupons to use at Bed Bath & Beyond be sure to get there before 6pm on a Sunday. Otherwise you will end up at Target, and spend $100 more than you intended to.

- Don't wash and dry the dog blanket with your normal clothes, either. Especially when your dog is black and your shorts are white.

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It's been ten months since Jason's injury. I can't believe it! I was at work today, my first 12 hour shift since leaving, almost exactly to the day, 10 months ago. A couple of times I caught myself thinking "I can't believe I'm back at work. Things are semi-normal. I'm working again, like I was before he was injured, and we really were still normal. Except for this time we're still not really normal, but I'm back at work like everything is normal."

Could I put 'normal' in there one more time?! I wonder if that even makes sense. It just feels so weird. We went through so much. And yet, here I am, back at work, doing normal things, when just 10 months ago, Jason was flying in a helicopter across Afghanistan butt ass naked (a detail I recently learned) and clinging to life.

That just doesn't even sound right. But such is life. It goes on. I must learn to accept this, I cannot focus on August 13, 2011 forever. Sometimes I feel like I'm back where I started. I want to scream, "But my husband only has one leg!" And then I have to remind myself that I'm a big girl, and he's a big boy, and we have a sweet baby boy who needs us to be normal for him. People will no longer cater to us or for us. We are grown ups, and we must start sucking it up like all other grown ups do!

Since everyone has come home, we have been super busy. Birthday parties, BBQs, Jason's picking back up on his golf and video games, Cooper, Tough Mudder, etc. It's nice to do things with our own friends again, and we're really bummed that a lot of them are leaving this fall. I've heard everyones side of the story, from the day Jason was injured. It's so wonderful to get their perspectives. I want to know every minute detail, of course. I just wish I could've been there with him.

Getting back in to the swing of things at work has been a painstakingly slow process. I have to pump every 3-4 hours, and finding time to do that while caring for patients is proving to be extremely difficult. We've almost made it to the 6 month mark of exclusive breastfeeding, and if we can get there I will be so happy. Luckily I am not working full time, so that is extremely helpful.

The weather here has been nuts, as usual for Colorado, but now that I've become a Mommy, I might have also become a little crazy. I worry about all kinds of weather coming our way, and what we should do in the worst case scenario. Some may call it doomsday prepping. Ha, ok I'm not that serious about it, but I have been trying to stock one cabinet with food, water, and supplies if something did happen to where we were out of power for a while for some reason. Call me crazy, but now, all I think about is Cooper and what we'd do if the worst happened so that everyone in my family could stay safe.

Ok, I just re read that last statement. I probably need drugs instead of a cabinet full of canned goods.

And no, the Nano hasn't exploed yet. But we haven't plugged it in yet either.