Last Thursday I had the opportunity to attend the third annual "The Brain at War" conference, put on by the NCIRE, The Veterans Health Research Institute, in San Francisco, CA. More on that later, because things are really busy around here right now. But it was a great conference, and the second excellent training I'd been able to attend, within the past 30 days. (The first being the superlative clinical training program in PTSD, put on by the National Center for PTSD in Menlo Park, CA. An article about that program is linked here.)
Some personal recaps and observations:
The Brain at War featured a number of interesting speakers, including Heidi Kraft, Ph.D., the author of "Rule Number Two," whose presentation was really the emotional anchor of the day. (Kraft now serves as the Deputy Director of the U.S. Navy Combat Stress Control Program.) She talked compellingly about her experience in Iraq, and in particular the events and emotions surrounding holding the hand of a dying Marine, who later became famous to the nation as Cpl. Jason Dunham, who was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor. (He's also the subject of an excellent book, "The Gift of Valor," by Wall Street Journal reporter Michael Phillips.)
Her speech was probably the first time, in almost five years of writing and editing this site, that I got to let the power of the stories I've heard, from various suffering servicemembers, vets and their families, really sink in. As Kraft told her story, of pain, empathy and loss, and the bond it built with Dunham's family, that continues to this day, I tapped into my own reserve of painful memories of stories I know, and couldn't stop crying. Looking around the large conference room, I saw I wasn't remotely alone in that, though; even men in suits were dabbing both eyes with their handkerchiefs and napkins. She also had a powerful, powerful poem that she wrote about the highlights and lowlights of the Iraq tour, called "The List," that she read to those assembled, and which is featured prominently in the book she later wrote, above.
There were many highlights of the program, including hearing from the National Guard about what they're doing to secure better mental health for their servicemembers, who don't have the same access that other branches do. The California National Guard has a good "Combat Stress Control" program, with handouts like this tip sheet, "Helping a Soldier Buddy in Distress," linked here. They've also got a superlative poster, "Never Let Your Buddy Fight Alone (against PTSD)" that emphasizes the importance of Guardmembers in one another's lives. An U.S. Army National Guard leader, Major Paul E. Gonzales, from Kansas' National Guard, talked convincingly about the challenges Guardmembers face after deployment, accessing mental health services, when they're frequently hours away from the nearest facility.
Another true highlight was, through the miracle of Skype, hearing and seeing USAF Major Jennifer J. Hatzfeld, Ph.D., R.N., report in from Afghanistan about her tour of duty there and what it's been like. And Chris Loverro, a UC Berkeley grad now filmmaker, and part of the U.S. Army's Stryker Brigade from Ft. Lewis, Washington in Iraq, talked openly about his struggles with PTSD upon returning from war, and showed a short film he's made about the "Hidden Casualties" among veterans. The short film's message was raw and powerful, and hit home with many in the audience.
Hidden Casualties from chris loverro on Vimeo.
(Army) Brigadier General Loree Sutton was in attendance at Thursday's program, and seemed to be an enthusiastic supporter of all things health and wellness related to the military and PTSD (and TBI). Sadly, in news that went over the wire yesterday, Sutton resigned her position as the head of the Defense Centers of Excellence (DCoE). See news item, linked here. The timing was significant: it's the same week that the privately-funded National Intrepid Center of Excellence for Psychological Health and Traumatic Brain Injury opened on the Navy campus in Bethesda, Maryland for the treatment of TBI and PTSD. Although the opening was a big deal -- and the fact that the money was raised privately also is -- apparently no cabinet members, no White House representatives, no senators and only two congressmen showed up. So the "war" ... on the brain... at war... appears to continue.
It was gratifying to see a certain portion of the event, as well as a small-group discussion afterwards attended by maybe a dozen participants, devoted to the discussion of integrative medicine and PTSD. (The discussion leader, an M.D., said she was also in the process of leaving the military.) Let's hope that despite the apparent setbacks and detours that progress can still be made on treating PTSD with integrative medicine.
The building the conference was held in -- an A+ facility called "The Marines' Memorial Hotel & Club," in San Francisco's Union Square -- was fantastic. "Like the Harvard Club for Marines!" I exulted, to anyone who'd care. It's worth a return trip to San Francisco just to revel in the exhibits on each floor. (The food was also superb.) There's an excellent library on the 11th floor, many things on other floors I didn't get to see, but a true "draw" and it's quite powerful is the "Tribute Wall" on the 10th floor, Mezzanine, which honors the fallen heroes of every branch who have given their lives in the OIF and OEF campaigns. I'll probably have to reserve writing about that for another time, but I kept stealing away from the presentations to go back to that memorial, taking photos of the plaques commemorating those who died who were important to vets who are special to me. The memorial has black stone plaques, engraved with the servicemember's name, branch of service, and date of death, and they're embedded into the walls (the exhibit covers five walls by now, one full room and stretching outwards from that) roughly chronologically, vertically. There's a guest book in the room to sign, and also a guidebook, which must be updated regularly, listing servicemembers KIA by name, branch of service, and date of death. Once you find the date of death, you know approximately where their plaque on the wall will be located, and you just go looking for it. Pretty impressive, and moving, exhibit, giving honor to those to whom honor is very much due. (For more on that, see link here.)
