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.