"I'd Do It Again In a Heartbeat."

I joke with my husband frequently about leaving him at home when I go places, merely to save time. He’s not allowed to go grocery shopping with me anymore. We’re in the process of getting him back to walking on prosthetics again after losing both of his legs and an arm 7.5 years ago. We’re also in the process of getting him back to driving, something he hasn’t attempted in several years due to a scare- and when I say scare, I mean prosthetic hand that controls brake detaches from arm mid-interstate kind of scare. I’ve gotten used to being the designated driver in the household and considering his driving skills pre-injuries, I’d much rather drive myself anyways (Sorry honey, but it’s true).

I don’t REALLY make him stay home from the grocery, but I’m not lying when I say the trip can sometimes take twice as long when he goes. I’m married to a triple amputee. He’s hard to miss and hard to forget. Everyone “knows” him and if they don’t, they’re going to talk to him anyways. It’s a proud feeling; it really is- small town patriotism shining brightly in the local Wal-Mart. Makes me forget half of my memorized list but we always leave with a new friend, sometimes multiples.

90% of the conversations start with a “Thank you for your service” from a passerby followed by a quick appreciation nod from my husband and then there it is again... That statement that makes me cringe every time, yet so damn proud to be his wife...

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Remember, he stepped on a bomb, lost numerous body parts, suffers from pretty rough phantom pains frequently, his only remaining hand with nerve damage but stitched together as good as possible, both lungs collapsed, his chest has been cracked open and his heart massaged to bring him back to life, skin from his back and hips now cover the mangled nubs that were once his perfect legs, scars everywhere on his body besides his perfectly untouched face... and, he’d do it all over again.

I’m lucky. It may not sound like it, but it’s true. I don’t have to raise our child alone. I get to witness achievements with my husband that some women will only ever witness with their children and grandchildren. I get to watch him take his first steps, drive his first mile, and say thank you to strangers at groceries stores. I’m lucky that PTSD is not a topic that destroys our household. We’ve seen it destroy many others in all shapes and forms, but the extent of our dealings with it is that repeated statement I’ve heard way too many times... “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Post-traumatic stress is different for us than what most people may experience. Though my husband has seen his share of death during his deployments, he didn’t have to watch friends around him dying while he laid their conscience unsure of his fate, his own life flashing before his eyes. He was the only one physically injured that day (Emotionally, some of his teammates will never be the same) and his most significant stressor was that he couldn’t finish his mission. So.... he’d do it again in a heartbeat.


I once said that I would never marry a Military man, but... I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

By: Ashlee Williams
Photography by: Taylor Alexander Photography, Murfressboro, TN

A Nice Surprise or Two

June is PTSD awareness month. I hope that by reading these blogs, you gain an understanding of what we ALL go through as a family. My family has our battles now that my husband has been diagnosed with PTSD. I honestly was one to think, Is it really that bad?  I have yet to hear stories from the military concerning these issues.

Answers hit us hard. Yes, it really IS that bad... not only for the veteran, but it also affects each of us as family members all in different ways. I often feel I am spread way too thin. I now make sure to TAKE time for myself. I cannot express that to you enough- It's what will keep you hoping and not let you lose your balance for all.

Nathan has been away for a week. His last few days here were rough. He was so anxious about going and the unknown. It was not enjoyable. This is common for people dealing with PTSD.
My kids miss their dad. I wish they had the insight to know that even for a short while, he will come home in a better state of mind which overall will give them a better-quality connection with him. One of them gets it, my 15-year-old. She helps make the in-between time fun and peaceful to pass their time. At ages 4 and 6, the others do not get it. They are only missing their dad.

School is still in session in upstate NY so they are ready and we are off. They like that the routine of our house is still the same. For me, I forgot how much needs to be done and take no breaks. I am tired. I am hopeful that next week will bring energy and organization. I have planned a team of great people to come in all month and set my house to run the most efficient way possible. No one better than my aunt who is known to be the queen of loving to clean…really boggles my mind that that is a thing. Apparently, it is not in my DNA. It all gets done but enjoying it is NOT my relationship with cleaning. Beyond that, they are coming two more times to set up my downstairs to an environment that the kids can have space to relax when Nathan is not relaxed. It is a very accurate statement that when you’re ready to move to the next stage- your clutter shows how you are dealing with what's happening around you. If I had to use only one word to describe mine, scattered would truthfully be it. I am ready to rid my environment of it. A real sign of growth here.

For the ladies to come, first I had to keep up with having only my set of hands for day to day tasks as well as get through some piles of items no longer needed. We are moving from last day of preschool with the last child to kindergarten Here We Come!!! Since I always speak of finding the joy, this is the last month I will pay for preschool ever again. Milestone moment! (No, I am not sad because she is over the top excited to go to school with her brother so for now until September, I am ok)
Surprise two. I had a hectic day. I knew I was not going to get everything done. Appointment, meetings, school drop off, pick-up at three different times, all the kid's activities and dinner. SHOOT! DINNER! Normally, I cook healthy but this week- whatever got on the table quick and cleaned quick won. You can’t win all the battles. My neighbor was getting home at the same time I was and she said she had a surprise for me, and to come over for it. My thought was I love you neighbor, but I do not have the time today. I did not say that. I told her I needed a few minutes and would stop in.

I knocked at her door and she had found a new recipe she knew I would love and had gone shopping for her dinner and mine. This is like winning the lottery for the mom with no time. She helped make a delicious pasta dish with homemade sauce, basil spinach, and even low cheese remembering that my oldest can’t eat a lot of it. Fresh bread and a beautiful salad on the side. We talked and meal-prepped. It took less than 20 minutes working together and NO mess...WHAT? There is a heaven on earth. She insisted clean-up was on her. She said she doesn’t always understand everything I go through, but she does understand how to be a great friend and what it takes to be a mom. I was able to eat with my kids and have an extra hour to hang out and play. They got my undivided attention, and that is what is most important. What a gift to receive! I truly understand the phrase, "It takes a village to raise a child." We made it through Week One and even had a great video conference with Daddy. Technology sometimes can be so wonderful.

-Melissa J, Heroes Thanking Heroes Representative

7 Years Legless

For more than 7 years now, I have normally kept to myself the feelings of disappointment that were spiraling through me when I would see other double/triple amputees practically running on prosthetic legs so well, when my extremely physically active husband wasn’t having the same success. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so incredibly happy for the success of others but I could not understand why the prosthetics process was such a nightmare for us... All who know J.D. KNOW that determination surely wasn’t the problem. I didn’t expect easiness, his legs were amputated above the knee, numerous surgeries were performed, skin grafts creating potential for skin breakdowns, and shrapnel still slithering its way out in places so slowly that I’m not sure it will ever ALL come out. I knew it would be difficult for him to walk again but I never realized how possible judging solely on our own process.

Recently, my husband was offered a once in a lifetime experience, something that he dreams of doing, but that offer comes with the challenge of steep mountain climbing, not a task for the old wheelchair for sure. After everything he has given up to ensure that I can live a better life, I’ve never been one to hold him back from his dreams, yet I knew he must wear legs to accomplish this one. I knew he wouldn’t stop now though. Parts of the whole process will be filmed for a new YouTube series J.D. is co-hosting called Adventures Enabled.

Through our AE friends and family, we were introduced to Steve Peeples, a prosthetist from Wichita, Kansas. Over the last few months since we met Steve, I’ve FINALLY been able to see what the prosthetic process SHOULD be like. He’s working with J.D. and has already surpassed our previous efforts by leaps and bounds. As gracious as I am that Steve had my husband walking comfortably in 10 days, I can’t help but be bitter of the wasted time we’ve spent on all of the other avenues we were forced to cross in order to get to Peeples Orthotics & Prosthetics.

In the past- We’ve been advised that ‘stubbies’ should be used for 2+ years and then long legs thrown at us with a “See ya, figure it out.”  We’ve waited months (once- over a year) for wheelchairs to be repaired all while constantly having to explain that the wheelchair acted as his LEGS because of failed prosthetic care. J.D. has actually been measured with a measuring tape for prosthetic sockets instead of being casted to his form! A measuring tape. Have you ever seen the stub of a leg that’s been blown off? How do you even measure that?   But most of all, I’m bitter that the system failed the HEALTH of my husband for SO long. If he would have gotten the care he needed when he was fresh out the hospital and down to 150lbs, he would have never grown comfortable with a wheelchair and would be climbing mountains right now. 7 years we will never get back. But damn it, the next 7, we WILL make up for it.

After reading and hearing about other’s experiences and journeys, I now know I have never been alone in this battle and there have been others out there fighting for better care this whole time. Now, is MY time to speak up. Change only comes with advocacy.

The VA is not the blame here, our issues began before J was even retired. No one is to blame but a system and process that just simply did not work for us. I WILL share our journey, I will advocate, and most importantly I will do everything I can to make sure other families don’t go through the same obstacles we have had to overcome. If you’re in the same boat as us, just know that if you are losing faith in your abilities, there is a better answer out there.. you just have to find it. Don’t let it take 7 years.  #7yearslegless #bethechange

The Big 'Move'

As a military family, we are no strangers to moving. With that being said, changing rooms around inside the same house should be a simple task, right? We’ve got this! It should be way easy after state to state moves, town to town moves; I mean what is a new room arrangement?

We are a family of six consisting of my husband, myself, a 15 year-old boy, two girls ages 9 and 7, and a 3 year old boy. This is our second year in our own home after my husband was medically retired from the Army. Excitingly, this means no more moves unless we really want to! Yeah! What a relief it is to say that!

Recently I decided it is time to rearrange bedrooms because of many different factors. These include the girls beginning to fight constantly as their own personality traits become more prevalent. Our oldest daughter trying to be very clean and organized, very specific about her side of the room being off limits; and our youngest being slightly more lacsidazy about her items, dropping them wherever she is when something else grabs her attention. Another being that our 15 year-old was located directly across from Mom and Dad’s room, he is old enough he needs a little more space and so does Momma and Daddy.

This move is something that my husband, oldest son and youngest daughter were not pleased about, all with their own reasons. When they all objected to my plans, I formed my own reasons in my mind for why they would want to object. I really shouldn’t have asked because the responses I received were not as Disney channel as my imagination had formed.

For my 15 year-old... prior to asking his opinion, I imagined he would say his objection was that he would then be further away from Momma and Dad and he enjoyed the peace of knowing we were just a door away to be able to knock and chat anytime things got dramatic in his teen life.

For my youngest daughter I think, it most definitely has to be that she feels she has an endless sleepover with her best friend and this would remove that.

Let me just tell you now, I couldn’t be further from correct!
I asked my son, “What is so bad about moving into a larger room further away from your momma?” His response... “It would be great to get away from you but, I don’t like change and I don’t feel like moving my stuff. I don’t see why I have to switch up just because they (his sisters) can’t get along!” Well then!

Surely, I can’t be so incorrect about my sweet baby girl who just loves her sister so much no matter how much they get in disputes... HA! Who do I think I am? Obviously, I have watched too many hallmark movies, because my sweet Princess Peanut Buttercup happily admits she does not want her own room, because then her big sister will no longer be cleaning the room for her and she will have to manage it herself!

This made me decide after two strikes that I wasn’t even going to swing for the third and see if my thoughts were on point with my husband’s objection. I just told him I’d really appreciate if he helped me get it managed and I thought everyone would be pleased with the results even if they weren’t with the plan. Plus, it wouldn’t be so hard we are just rearranging, not moving. So as reluctant as he was, we set the date.

I won’t even cause you the mental stress of trying to understand me trying to describe all the details of it. However, I will gladly share some highlights of this ridiculous event.

I will start by sharing that my 3 year-old’s pediatrician has said she most definitely sees the early signs of OCD. He is very specific about his items, who touches them, when, and how. We know this, we talk about this for a few days getting him pumped about this great relocation. (How can one mom be so wrong, so many times in a matter of days?!) Apparently in his mind things were going to just stay together and in place, only in a different room. Small panic began when we had to disassemble his bed and then once he seen his bed in his new room and none of his toys were in the correct section of his toy organizer shelf, that panic grew. Nothing else could be done until everything in his room was in order.

First hurdle cleared! *sigh of relief* Moving on. Trip after trip, back and forth moving bed pieces, stuffed animals, posters, every item big and small. Taking minor notice that I see my youngest son playing peacefully in his new room, I’m passing my oldest son and husband as they are working to accomplish the same goal as myself objections or not. I even have my oldest daughter grab the other end of a toy box to relocate with a bit of ease. I hear a noise in a corner of the living room somewhere out of sight. Just assuming it is a toy or maybe a tablet that was left on, I pay little attention to it. After about a hour and a half of this, I am to the point of asking my youngest where she would like certain items in her room and then BOOM, it hits me! I have seen everyone except her! She was protesting this move, tucked away in the corner of the living room cuddled up with her dog, playing on her tablet. What?!?! Sneaky little shammer.

Who was I kidding moving four beds, dressers, and toys; I absolutely underestimated the effort, energy, and time this would take! After everything was said and done, my amazing family made it through yet another move! My boys are happy, and my ever-squabbling girls are separated, both with their own hand-made signs on their new doors stating, “Please knock, thank you!” Peace at last. Everyone is happy.

First night in everyone’s new space and my crazy girls have a sleepover in the oldest’s room with every intention of having a sleepover in the youngest’s room the next night with not one single argument. My oldest comes knocking on my bedroom door to give me a goodnight hug because I forgot to go to his room before laying down.

This is not just another move... this is another memory for us to reflect on and laugh about later. An eventful day ending with this tired momma realizing that maybe I wasn’t so wrong about their real objections and this move being better for everyone after all. Momma win! WooHoo!

Born Again American

By: Antoinette Batchelor

Benjamin Franklin once said, “Where liberty dwells, there is my Country” – You may have already known that. But, did you also know that Benjamin Franklin was the first post master general of these United States and was the oldest member of the Constitutional Convention? I did – I studied that one fact, along with 99 others till I was blue in the face. Until I lived and breathed information… Like there are 435 house members in congress and the Chief Justice of the Supreme court is Judge John G. Roberts.

These 100 trivia questions may never come up again my life. But for one day, last week, My future as an American hinged on them.

August 14^th, 2009: I entered the United States as a permanent resident. June 7^th, 2018: I became a Citizen and was presented with my very own flag.

It’s not a large flag, it’s not canvas. It wasn’t folded by men in dress blues or handed to me at retirement. It never flew over a capitol building. It never flew anywhere really. It has waved in my hands to cheers and applause only once, but to me- It is as beautiful a flag as any.

The thing about a citizenship ceremony is this – for one brief hour in your life, you are in a room surrounded by only patriots. All clutching their tiny wood and cloth flags to their chests as they swear an oath of allegiance to a country that offered them something they could not get anywhere else in the world.  I don’t think anyone in that room last week would have traded their flag for anything. The pretty certificate, the copy of the constitution and the declaration of independence were lovely touches. For a fee you can get your certificate replaced.  Those books can be ordered on amazon and shipped next week if you were so inclined. But that Flag for a new citizen… It can never be replaced.

When I moved to the United States of America nearly a decade ago with a green card, I was never inclined to become an American. I came from New Zealand, a beautiful country, we have some pretty hills and beaches, and a flag we are sometimes on the fence about. New Zealand is an incredibly multicultural nation. No one is really expected in any way to adapt to their new home. Your new home will adapt to you. It works for New Zealand, but it leaves the country without a real sense of unification. Patriotism wasn’t bred into me like it is in America. Belonging to one country or another was just a quirk of birth that didn’t really hold any significance.

What I wasn’t counting on when I got here was falling in love with this country, and its rows upon rows (upon rows) of Flags. I wasn't counting on realizing the truth that this nation really is the Freest nation on the Earth. That opportunity abounds. That you can make a life for yourself based on your desire and ability to put in the work.  I used to joke that you’d be hard pressed to forget which country you were in when there are more flags than mail boxes.
After being married to a United States Army veteran for 10 years, having surrounded myself with combat veterans and working with the Coalition to Salute America’s Heroes for 8 – I can firmly say that this country is home. If Home is where your heart is, I am as American as baseball cards and blue jeans. How can I not have fallen in love with something worth so much?

Sure, The Immigration and Naturalization Services probably paid maybe a quarter for my flag. Less for buying bulk. But the value of something is not found in the cost of it’s raw materials, it is found in the price the market is willing to pay for it. The price that has been paid for the flag is steep indeed.  Since WW1 – Over 625,000 Military members have paid with their lives for the Flag and the ideals it represents. When you consider the worth of those lives, what could I consider more precious?

Last week, I made of Oath of Allegiance to this country that has welcomed me with open arms. I swore to support and defend The Constitution of the United States and then I recited with a young shy man from Nepal on my left, and a vibrant excited mother of two from Peru on my right the pledge of Allegiance, to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which is stands. As our gathered family members applauded, we waved our tiny flags and together we shared a once in a lifetime moment, 10 minutes previous we were three strangers, foreigners in a foreign land, hailing from around the globe. Now, joined forever as countrymen, one nation under God.
 

So, here's to civic duty. Voting and Jury Duty - For which I will gladly show up. And here's to Liberty, and Freedom, and here's to the Flag.

I think maybe, in the end, Lee Greenwood said it best.

And I'm proud to be an American
Where at least I know I'm free
And I won't forget the men who died
Who gave that right to me
And I'd gladly stand up next to you
And defend Her still today
'Cause there ain't no doubt
I love this land
God Bless the U.S.A.

5 Things You Should Know About Caregivers

• Our backbones are made of steel.

Sure, you may have heard many of us complain about the care our veteran needs but aren't getting. Don’t mistake this by thinking we’ve settled for failure.  It's likely that we’ve spent hours on the phone, talked to numerous “professionals,” argued our point relentlessly, filled out tons of paperwork, we’ve cried about it… maybe laughed about how ridiculous it all seems, but we continue to FIGHT.  We are advocates. We weren’t trained to advocate for health care, mental care, or physical therapies, we are forced to learn the system, normally during the most stressful times in our lives.

• Anxiety is a part of our everyday life.

We’ve just learned ways to deal with our anxiety (sometimes. Other times, we build up until we explode.) We may have tried medications, some we’ll need for the entirety of our lives.  We would exercise more if time permitted. We would sleep more if time permitted.  Time never permits. Ever.  We are always going.

• Just because we may work from home does NOT mean we are always free.

Actually, we’re never free.  And when we are, we’d rather be locked up in a quiet room of peace or catching up on the sleep we have deprived ourselves from.  If we are lucky enough to find work from home employment, then it’s very likely our heart and dedication gained from care-giving always rubs off on our career, and Well, just like everyone else- We strive to be all we can be. Just Let Us. Don’t get irritated when we say, “NO, I can’t help you today, I have things to do.” We REALLY do have more things to accomplish than the time in our day is going to allow. Be patient. We’re trying to grow in ways we never thought we’d have too.

• We are untrained medical professionals.  

That’s right. Most of us have zero training in the medical field, yet still know how to give shots, take vitals, care for wounds, we’re (unprofessional) pharmacists, wheelchair mechanics, psychiatrists-  you name it and we’ve probably done it.

• We care more for others than we do ourselves.

Ask a caregiver the last time they did something completely for themselves. Chances are they won’t remember.  No matter how many times we’re told and preached to about caring for ourselves, we will ALWAYS put our family first. We are caregivers, but don’t forget we are also spouses, Moms, Dads, Children, Siblings etc. We know and understand how important our health is, but we get so wrapped up in making sure everyone else is okay that we lose sight of our own needs.  Our own health issues, dental treatments, and medical care gets put on the back burner until we’re forced to deal with it and then we do the best we can.

No matter how much love exists, caring for another human being is a difficult, sometimes overwhelming task, especially when in the past we are so used to be cared for by that person.  When the roles changes, our lives change.  Please don’t judge us for sometimes being unsocial hermit crabs.  We really are trying. Bring us a coffee and a little encouragement and remind us that WE ARE CARED FOR.

Ideas from our Caregiver Support Group on how YOU can show appreciation to our Military caregivers:

“Make dinner, a real hug, a card in the mail, an hour of fix it tasks... Most days, just hearing that someone sees how hard I'm trying would be enough to give me strength to carry on another week or more.”

“Where to start?  Our friends/neighbors/church have been so helpful! Assembling medical equipment (shower chairs, walkers, etc...), picking up mail/packages, moving snow, feeding cats while we’re away, sharing extra garden produce, bringing dinner after surgery, changing my flat tire, etc...   I rarely *ask* for help, so I’m so thankful when someone offers something specific like “can we grab your mail?” Or “can I drop off dinner this week?”. The “little” things make a huge difference, when my family averages 22 appointments each month”

“Letting me vent to them”

“An hour of fix-it tasks! That would be a tremendous help for us as something is always broken or needing replaced around here.”

How have you shown a caregiver appreciation? If you’re a caregiver, how have you been shown appreciation?  Let us know in the comments!