Undefeated

My husband’s Alive Day just recently passed.  It’s been six years. Boy, how time does fly, but it really seems like a lifetime ago.  Prior to his injury, I would have never understood how those two could be used in the same sentence to describe something, until I had a child.  In the sense of describing how you blink an eye, and you can’t imagine your life prior to such a major event.  Except, the two things I am describing are on complete opposite ends of the spectrum, one is one of the worst things that can happen, and the other brings about a joy that I can’t put into words. 

I can’t imagine my life without my husband’s injury. I do find myself guilty of wondering sometimes how different his life, my life, and our daughter’s life would be if we were “normal.”  Then I think, if I could just take away his pain; never mind a normal life, just let him be pain free.  I will probably never stop wishing that for him.  However, I have come to realize that as far as our family goes, the grass is not greener on the other side.  As I sit and think about how far we as a family have come, and see the strides my husband has made in the past 6 years, I could not be more proud.  Instead of letting his injury defeat him, he fights back EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

I see him struggle to sleep at night, and then struggle to get up in the morning because he hasn’t slept but for 2 hours.  But he gets up, and he goes to school, and then he comes home and plays with our daughter.  He has a will power that is unbreakable, and it’s unbelievable to me. He doesn’t want to be defeated, but he also wants to help other soldiers and veterans not be defeated.  There are some days he does not win, but as the years go on, those days are fewer and farther between.  He does not let his injury define him, he has used it as motivation, to help motivate others that got dealt a bad card.  For that he will always be someone I look up to and strive to be like, my hero!

An Alive Day in the Daughenbaugh Family

Most Americans only get to celebrate the day they came into the world once a year. A Birthday is common practice and celebrates the change from youth to life, long lived. For me, being a combat wounded Marine; I get to celebrate two days of coming into the world. One that I thank my mom and dad for and the other, that I thank God, our Navy Corpsman and my fighting spirit for.

On October 12, 2004 I was on a foot patrol with my Marines and our base came under mortar attack. It wasn’t unusual and happened regularly. This time though, my squad was in the area believed to be a traveled route for those launching the attacks. After we established a vehicle checkpoint and had several successful stops, I didn’t know it yet but my family would learn to embrace this day as the day my fighting spirit, mixed with divine intervention would stave off me, losing my life. I had been shot in the face, the bullet stopped in unreachable spot near my brain and my Marines thought I was going to die. That was 12 years ago and as I write this, my 12^th alive day is just around the corner.

Every year on my alive day my family treats it as an actual second birthday. We spend time together as a family, we go to dinner and cherish that I’ve been given another year with them. My family has been the driving force behind my recovery and my avoidance of the common pitfalls that cause some wounded veterans to succumb to: dark nightmares, horrific flashbacks, survivor guilt and even suicide. I’ve dealt with nightmares and occasional flashbacks but I’ve never considered the worst. I live with chronic pain and the fear of seizures which are debilitating but I’m living my life to the fullest. I have to, I’ve been giving a second chance at life and the best way to deal with that is to live for those we’ve lost and lead a life my children will be proud to have been part of.

My “alive day” is a day to celebrate a second chance at life. To learn from and grow from the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.  

Extended Family

Service Dog - A service animal means any dog that is individually trained to do work or perform tasks for the benefit of an individual with a disability, including a physical, sensory, psychiatric, intellectual, or other mental disability.

Many of our wounded veterans rely on a service animal daily. So much that the animal becomes a part of them, and extension of their emotions, physical abilities, and sometimes mental disabilities. These dogs are trained to help with the laundry, be a blind persons eyes, be emotional comfort for someone who is struggling with depression or anxiety, and they can even call 911. These dogs can even sense seizures and give the owner a warning sign to sit down because they are about to experience a seizure. The possibilities are endless with these sweet and helpful dogs, and they become more like family than they do a pet or a "co-worker". Service pets have saved so many lives because of how alert they are trained to be and how much comfort they are trained to provide, even though most dogs are very giving and comforting anyways.

Here is a recent event where one veteran's service dog, Charlie, came to his rescue. Thanks to Charlie's training to be one with his person, he was able to get him help and to the hospital before things could have gotten worse.

As I was thinking what to write about for the blog, an issue arose that gave me great inspiration, my service dog, “Charlie”. Charlie is 5 years old now and has been a part of my family for three years. Whenever I’m feeling Blue or have had a surgery, Charlie has always been by my side. He is a faithful friend and service dog. This past weekend, I had a sharp pain, and found myself struggling to walk. Charlie ran to me and licked me to let me know that he acknowledges that I need help, and ran off to get my wife. Charlie was able to get my wife’s attention because I was in such agony that it hurt to even talk. Charlie and my wife both came to my aid, thanks to Charlie's training and ability to notify someone when I need help.

I ended up spending the night in the hospital. I had developed kidney stones.  Charlie came with me to the hospital and never left my side until I was discharged. Charlie was well behaved and licked my hand to comfort me when I needed it. Charlie is just as my family as my wife and children.

*Always remember, and remind your children, that if you see someone with a service dog, not to pet it. When the dog is working, it needs to be in full focus at all times and can not have any distractions. If a young child does want to pet the animal, always ask the owners permission first. It is at the owners discretion if they want their animal pet or not.*