I'm three days into a stretch of seven off. Where do I start? Do I tell you after receiving the quadruple amputee from the aerovac team I drove home in tears? I cried the entire drive home and continued to cry, seated on the floor of my living room, puppy at my side. Returning to work the following day I felt as if I simply went through the motions of my job. I wasn't assigned to the young man missing limbs and I was thankful for that. Later that night as I lay in bed eyes closed the picture that I saw over and over was of a man with no legs and no arms.
I wanted to talk with friends, combat veterans all of them. One medical, the other a ground pounder. I needed to talk with a combat vet, someone who has seen the horrors I witnessed and who could without a doubt relate to the thoughts in my head. But they were too busy, busy with their lives and jobs and they had no time for me. The "in"significant other is no more. He's another that was too busy and I clearly was not on his priority list. So with nary a word I ceased any contact I may have had with him.
Please tell me when this heart of mine will find someone who thinks I am the best thing that ever happened to him? Is that too much to ask? Or am I deceiving myself in thinking it might actually happen?
I tried to retreat to the beach, a place of solitude for me. The waves crashing on the shore, the warm sun as I sit on the sand is therapy of a priceless kind. For three days I wanted to run by the ocean with an empty mind, run until my thoughts purged themselves of everything sad and ugly. I wanted to laugh at puppy as she chased seagulls, head cocked at that perplexed angle and eat ice cream and funnel cakes and other fat filled comfort foods. That therapy too was doomed as puppy became ill and home we went, in search of our vet.
Tomorrow is Easter. How I wish for a rebirth too! A resurrection of my compassion, joy and peace. How I wish for the ability to sleep at night without visions of dead Soldiers and Marines missing limbs, skulls, faces. Tomorrow on the most joyous day of the Christian faith I pray I shall find the comfort that, of late, has been most elusive.
This started out as letters home to my friends and family while I was at Hurricane Katrina, and continued through my deployment to Afghanistan. I have recently added my friend Clara Hart as a contributor. Now it very roughly chronicles life as a civilian, and citizen of the USA. If you need some assistance with Workplace Safety Programs, please let me know, I am happy to help.
4 comments:
Clara,
You will find that man, and when you do he will say "Where have you been all my life, I've been looking for you everywhere."
I found my soul-mate 30 years ago after a failed marriage and have cherished every moment we've been together.
Mike
People who care tend to have high standards which can be scary to others. Your obvious passion for excellence (how else could you do what you do?) can be off-putting to mere mortals. I don't know how my wife managed to train me to not be afraid and that she didn't expect me to be just like her in every respect, but she did. So there's some mortal out there who can learn similar loving respect and support for you. I just don't know where any more than you do right now.
very nice post.but i feel sad about you . may God show you the right path.
I just stumbled onto this blog and I really enjoy it :) I am a nurse at a big teaching institution. Though I love it, I have always wanted to trying being a civilian nurse in a military hospital (I say always but I just graduated in May). I might soon get the opportunity once my boyfriend is back from Afghanistan (well if there are open positions). I see that it's tough work but you are an angel to these soldiers and all of your patients! It's tough to see, but just think how rewarding it is when you see that patient walk through the doors "all better" and telling you thank you.
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