Healing Combat Trauma

The Spouse's Point of View: "I Just Want It Over With, and Buried..."

Watched a great documentary last night, one hour long, originally broadcast on "The History Channel." The documentary was "Vietnam: Homecoming," and I rented it on Netflix, in their instantly-playable section. They describe it in the following manner:

"This moving documentary follows Pervis Crowe, Stanley Parker, John Hedrick and Mike Cook -- who suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder -- as they prepare to attend Operation Homecoming, a gathering in Branson, Mo., to help Vietnam veterans mend. Through poignant interviews, these anguished men share their personal stories of the pain and torment that scarred their psyches and forever changed their lives."

Good stuff. Because I've been privileged to have two years of in-depth, daily conversations with one suffering Vietnam vet, as well as having read his life story, mostly focusing around combat in Vietnam and its aftermath in his life as PTSD, which he sent me two years ago this week, I was astounded by the compelling similarities in what I heard on the screen with what I knew in real life.

Every veteran shared something meaningful. In the conversation illustrated above, a Vietnam vet and his wife exhibited typical conflict over, "you were only there for such a short time...how is it that you can't get over it yet?" frustration. As the wife said, pointedly,

"As your spouse, I don't want you to have to relive it. I want it buried. I just want it over with, and buried."

Unfortunately, that's not likely to be the case. She had "stuck by her man," -- whereas most of the wives in the documentary had not -- and yet, there were tremendous issues. In a suicide note this veteran had left, ironically with his combat brothers, he had mentioned how not only was he expecting to die, but also his wife and their daughter -- a fact that troubled his family members, not unexpectedly, quite a bit when they learned what he had said.

Another veteran, a black soldier, talked about how he managed to keep PTSD at bay until his daughter went off to college. Then his inborn conditioning that "if you get close to someone, they die" kicked in, and he became unrealistically fearful for her safety. At 50 years old, he checked in with what the VA had to offer, the first time he'd realized what an impact PTSD had made on his life, despite the decades of being afraid to get close to people or show his emotion.

Another Vietnam veteran, Marine, sat on his single bed in what looked like a hotel room, and grabbed his shaving kit of medications. This vet's "backstory" was that he was an entrepreneur, a businessman who created a company from scratch that went on to be worth millions. As he described it, he went from rags to riches, and then suddenly at age 50, he couldn't handle it anymore. The empire he built came crashing down, because his PTSD kicked in, and he couldn't run from it, couldn't keep it at bay anymore. And now he was single, marriage destroyed, dependent on pharmaceutical medications to keep his anxiety and sleepness at bay. As he sat on the bed, he took out large pill bottle after large pill bottle, filled with prescription medications, and described his dependence on each one, to help him sleep and help him cope.

I remember the second time I met with the Vietnam vet, Marine, who sought me out for help. He gave me his single-spaced, typewritten list of medications that he was on, 58 in a day, and I almost fainted. Some of them were just for the side-effects of other medications he was on! I was horrified, and sobered. No wonder he had an upset stomach all the time...

A year later, he was down to eight medications from the original 58. Gone was the pain patch, the Oxycodone, the night sweats, the nightmares, the muffled screams, the crappy sleep. Progress is possible. But it started, ironically, with listening to what the veteran went through. "No one wants to hear my story," he said. "They think I should be over it by now. I was only there for two years," he said, "they can't understand why it's the dominant experience in m life, and they're bored with it. Why can't I just move on?"

I heard echoes of that last night in the documentary, with the wife's question: "Why can't this just be buried?" I don't know if I have the stature to comment on this, but this is what I'd say. Honestly, he's not the same person you thought he was. War changed him; combat changed him. And if you can't accept that...you can't accept HIM. He's different now. And whether and how he chooses to show that, it's affected him to the core of his being. He can get better, and he can "improve," and be happier and healthier, by all external metrics...but seriously, if you don't value the core of what he experienced, and why it changed him...you are missing something very, very important. It's key to who he is. And if you wanted someone who wasn't affected by combat, well, that's not who you have right in front of you. It permanently expanded, and blew out, the boundaries of who you knew, and changed him into who he IS. And that is the veteran you can embrace, or not. The choice is yours. The experience was his (or hers). And he (or she) can share it with you, to the extent that you're open to accepting it. Be open. Work on it, if you're not. The payoff is immense. Because you will KNOW who the other person really IS.

Students' Documentary on Veterans: "It's a Privilege to Hear Their Stories"

The Boston Globe has a GREAT front page story today called "Battling a Different Kind of War," by Peter Schworm. The subhead gives you a clue to the content: "military college students document the struggles veterans face when they return." The students in question are from Norwich University, in Northfield, Vermont, and the documentary, done entirely by students, talks to Iraq and Afghanistan veterans about their readjustment issues on returning home.  As such, it's both a truthful and a cautionary tale, for those on both sides of the camera.  Great job!

Let's hope the documentary soon will be available for viewing publicly, to further enhance all of our understanding of what combat veterans go through when they willingly go to war, and return -- hoping, but maybe not always able, to pick up their lives "right where they left off." Because the students involved are at a military college -- and some of them have already served their country -- they're probably a little more sensitive to some of the issues involved, and presenting a less-biased approach than those who are necessarily "for" or "against" military service.  From the sounds of the Globe article, everyone involved seemed pretty aware and respectful of the price that veterans pay to serve their country. (The quote in the title above was said by one of the filmmakers in the story...)

Editor's note: The Boston Globe article is linked here.

Reality Check: Every Warrior Affects 50 Other People Around Him or Her

I was privileged to get to go to the Roxie Theater in San Francisco yesterday and see the world premiere and kickoff of the national tour for "Broken Promise," part of the "In Their Boots" documentary film series that focuses on veterans issues.

The Northern California location was appropriate, because the "Broken Promise" segment focuses on the Pathway Home, at the California Veterans Home in Yountville, and follows the lives of three Iraq War veterans who are residents there, part of an innovative treatment program for PTSD, run by longtime veterans advocate, Fred Gusman, M.S.W.

The documentary is interesting -- I'm still mulling over what I think about it -- and it was neat both having gone to the Pathway Home before to visit with some of the residents, and then seeing some of them there at the screening (including one whose story was featured in the film).  However, the best part of the movie for me was this particular quote of Gusman's, which drives home the importance of both seeing -- and treating -- vets with PTSD in community.

Said Gusman, 

"For every one person that's affected (by PTSD), there's generally 50 others attached to them, when you start looking at family members, employers, educational systems -- all the different folks who are affected by just one warrior."

While Gusman (in the film) goes on to make the argument for including vets' families in the treatment of the vets, the point here is a separate one.  That a single vet who's suffering -- or for that matter, overcoming -- is not a single vet.  He or she is the center of a number of concentric circles of effect that ripple outwards, affecting many others.  All the more reason to not neglect, or ignore, or put aside the struggles of veterans with PTSD.  Each one has 50 people he or she is affecting -- by his or her failures, and, over time, by his or her successes as well.  They're not just individual struggles: they're the center of a social web in which many others play a part, either directly or indirectly (by compassion and concern, for example, or neglect and indifference).

Editor's note: For more on the "In Their Boots" documentary film series, click here.  For more on Fred Gusman, M.S.W., click here.  For more on his work as Executive Director of the Pathway Home, click here.  For more on the Pathway Home residential treatment center for combat veterans with PTSD, click here.

Reserved to Fight: New Documentary Features Young Veterans Realizing "You Are Not Alone"

There's a new documentary out, showing on PBS this month (click here to find your local station), co-produced by the Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America (IAVA) and called "Reserved to Fight." This is how the director describes it:

"In May 2003, Fox Company of Marine Reserve Unit 2/23, returned home from front-line combat in Iraq. Reserved To Fight follows four Marines of Fox Company for four years through their postwar minefield of social and psychological reintegration into civilian life. The return to their communities proves as formidable a battle as the more literal firefights of previous months. Living among loved ones who don’t yet understand them and how they have changed, contending with a media focused on the politics rather than the human experience of war, and suffering from a psychological disorder that is difficult to acknowledge, these young veterans grapple to find purpose and healing.

For each Marine, their new status as a young veteran leaves them often without goals, camaraderie, or an immediate channel for the adrenaline that their combat-ready bodies still produce, even many months later. Most significantly, they lack a safe place internally to store the images, sounds, and experiences collected from war. Encroaching civilian reality only serves to widen the painful gap that exists between them and the society in which they live; a gap which they feel so personally and painfully.

Taking anti-war media personally, Mark Patterson returns home adamantly speaking out against those who oppose the war. He is unwilling to admit that the war has affected him, and his life becomes consumed with trying to convince his peers that his actions in Iraq were correct. But when his long-time girlfriend and emotional support, Jana, suddenly breaks up with him, severe depression forces him to confront his past, drastically reshaping his future. Matt Jemmett is immediately diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) after his return home, but when traditional therapy doesn’t work, he decides he needs seclusion and takes a job in a remote desert location
working with at-risk youth.

Raised in a strict religious society, Earl Simmons’ abuse of alcohol to fight traumatic memories of the war leaves him unable to fulfill a two-year church mission. Returning to his community for a second time, shame and seclusion force him to face his demons. Upon returning home, Chris Nibley just wants to be normal: “start a family and have a lot of kids.” However, finding himself depressed, he soon
realizes that he does not fit into this concept of “normal”. As a result he is left feeling isolated and without direction. All attempts to find happiness only leave him hopeless of ever finding his sense of purpose in America again and he makes a rash decision to volunteer for a second tour in Iraq; knowing, almost hoping, he will die.

As the Marines’ individual stories unfold, we discuss the mental stress of war and its affect on veterans of WWII and Vietnam.

Ray Howarth, a prisoner of war and purple heart recipient of WWII, struggled with severe emotional stress resulting in random bursts of rage. Forty years after the war he decided to visit a therapist and found “I was never deprogrammed from war.” Now Howarth has dedicated his life to helping veterans
readjust. Terry Haskell, a Vietnam veteran, reflects on his experience after coming home and shares “I was lost for ten years, I think time finally healed me. I could forgive.”

It is the stories of these veterans that make this film distinctive. While their lives are the vehicles for this story, it is ultimately about all veterans. Today, thousands of veterans walk a similar tight rope hinged on confusion, loneliness, isolation, and despair. This film will help them realize they are not alone, while offering awareness both for the veterans and their communities."

Sounds worth watching.  In reality, reservists face special challenges unique to them.  Non-career military, they are expected to "resume" normal lives as quickly as possible, but with all the same difficulties, sometimes even more, than those who are active-duty military.  Like the National Guard, special care needs to be paid to the unique challenges of reservists.  Wrenched from the common experience of wartime, they go back to civilian lives separated from their buddies, with whom they could otherwise hope to process the combat experience.  Similarly, they also return to families, jobs and communities that frequently expect them to be more or less "fine," because they're now back from the war, yet with few resources to help them or their families integrate these divergent experiences.

Editor's note: If you want to read about another Marine battalion that served in Iraq, 1/25, also known as "New England's own," read this earlier blog entry, linked here, which mentions and links to the extensive coverage by the Boston Globe -- which gave reporter Charles Sennott a year to follow the battalion -- and the Providence Journal Bulletin. A good video, which we've also blogged about earlier, here, is from the Norfolk County (Massachusetts) District Attorney's office, called "PTSD and Veterans: Beyond the Yellow Ribbon." It talks about various re-adjustment issues after combat and particularly focuses on reservists.  Highly recommended.

Racktime, Sacktime: The Importance of a Good Night's Sleep for Brain and Heart Health

Trying to pull together two seemingly unrelated concepts lately: the importance of a good night's sleep (heck, any decent sleep would be a good idea) and heart health, let's look at this longish quote from an interesting and worthwhile book, The Cortisol Connection: Why Stress Makes You Fact and Ruins Your Health -- and What You Can Do About It, by Shawn Talbott, Ph.D. 

 

Essentially the background here is that high cortisol levels are both common in veterans with PTSD, and implicated in the literature with increased risk of death from heart disease.  It's also thought that cortisol causes other problems, including weight gain, diminished libido, increased blood pressure, and other topics of interest to veterans and their families, some of whom struggle with all these issues.

 

By writing a whole book about cortisol levels and their effect on health, Talbott is able to isolate the importance of some things we might not ordinarily think about (as well as suggest improvements). Says Talbott on cortisol levels and sleep:

 

"If you’re like most people, you understand that stress management can be used effectively to help with stressful events.  After reading the previous chapters, you now know that effectively managing your stress response will help you maintain your cortisol levels within a more normal range.  What you may not know, however, is that as little as a night or two of good, sound, restful sleep may do more for controlling your cortisol levels and reducing your long-term risk for many chronic diseases than a whole lifetime of stress-management classes.  Here’s why:

 

When you were just a few months old, a mere babe, your brain had you programmed to sleep about 18 hours a day – not a very stressful existence.  Upon reaching adulthood – say, about 20 years of age – your nightly allotment of sleep had been slashed to less than seven hours (six hours and 54 minutes, according to the National Sleep Foundation.)  That’s around two hours less than the eight to nine hours recommended by sleep experts for optimal physical and mental health. 

 

Progressive changes in your body’s internal clock (the suprachiasmatic nucleus), combined with alterations in your patterns of hormone secretion, have you going to bed later, and waking up earlier with each successive decade, resulting in nearly 30 minutes less sleep per night with each passing decade. 

 

By the time we reach our thirties and forties, we’re getting 80% less time in the most restful “slow-wave” period of sleep (as compared to our teenage years), and by the time we hit our 50s and 60s, we get almost no uninterrupted deep sleep.  (We still get some deep sleep, but it tends to come in short fragments that do little in terms of recovery and repair for mind and body.)

 

What does this lack of sleep mean for your cortisol levels?  It means that the average 50-year-old has nighttime cortisol levels more than 12 times higher than the average 30-year-old – yikes!  Perhaps the worst piece of news is that not only will an inadequate quality or quantity of sleep result in elevated cortisol levels, but high cortisol will also limit both your ability to fall asleep – and the amount of time that your mind spends in the most restful stages of deep sleep.  This sets you up for a vicious cycle of poor sleep, elevated cortisol, and subtle changes in metabolism that lead you down the path toward chronic diseases.  So get some sleep!"

 

-- Source: The Cortisol Connection: Why Stress Makes You Fact and Ruins Your Health -- and What You Can Do About It, by Shawn Talbott, Ph.D.

You'd have to read Talbott's book -- and you should -- to learn more about the relationship between high stress, cortisol levels and disease (as well as his recommendations for what to do about it).  However, even several items we've got linked to this blog are possible suggestions, among others, for getting a better night's sleep.  Not to pun, but most experts' recommendations on this topic often sound like a "real snore," they're so basic (practice sleep 'hygiene,' set a regular bedtime, warm milk for tryptophan, don't exercise within several hours of bedtime, etc.)  What's of greater interest to me at least is what items can we use to de-stress or relax more completely so that we can sleep.  Some suggestions:

 

Sleep Soundly CDs, by Steven Halpern; The Delta Sleep SystemDVD, by Dr. Jeffrey Thompson; and, of course, the highly-recommended Pacific Light DVD, by Thomas Day Oates, Jr.  And of course the restful, soothing lavender sleep pillow, which you can make yourself; or if you're really lucky, a massage.

 

Happy Zzs...

Swift Silent and Deadly - That's First Recon Marines - But It's Also Combat Trauma and PTSD

"Make that -- 'Swift, Silent, Deadly' -- and ridiculously hottt!"

That's a modified Paris Hilton-ism, we know, but... of course we're talking about Rudy Reyes, former 1st Recon Marine, playing himself on the HBO series, "Generation Kill," from the book of the same name, by Evan Wright. (If you've read Nate Fick's wonderful book, "One Bullet Away: The Making of a Marine Officer," you've also read about Rudy Reyes in that.)

We've written about Rudy Reyes before on this site; and we're secretly chuckling about how absurdly many people worldwide are searching for -- literally -- ANY scrap of news about The Hotness That Is Rudy-- or preferably any pictures.  His own website seems to be "under construction" -- let's hope it gets online soon to satisfy the teeming hordes of fans, internationally.

In the meantime, though -- it's important to remember that Rudy has seen and done, many many things in his time - in battles in Afghanistan and Iraq.  First Recon Marines are known as "Swift, Silent and Deadly" ... and if you think Marines in general are ROCK STARS (we certainly do -- our friend the Beautiful Redhead, married to a Marine officer, gave us a T-shirt that said just that) -- well, Recon Marines are all that and then some.  It's the most physically, emotionally, mentally demanding job in the Marine Corps.

If, while you're waiting around for Rudy Reye's website to become active, or learn more about his "Hero Living" DVD series planned -- you might want to take a few moments and educate yourself more fully about some of the downsides of being "the best of the best" -- it's the PTSD that can come from the obscene amounts of combat and arduous undertakings you're exposed to.  The good news is that not everyone gets PTSD.  The bad news is, the chances of it increase with exposure to combat trauma -- and, for those whom it affects, it's a battle harder than any fight they've ever had.

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Rob Honzell, who, like Rudy Reyes, was also a Marine sergeant in First Recon -- but in Vietnam -- has written a good book about his experiences.  He calls it "First Person: Combat PTSD," and it's pretty eye-opening.  I had it on my bookshelf for quite a while before I opened it and really gave it a read -- but when I did, I couldn't put it down.  Rob in the meantime has become a friend, and frankly I was feeling guilty about not having taken his book more seriously; so I did.  It's quite a book.  

If you know Rob at all, you know that the reason he's willing to plumb the depths that he has in this book, and draw water from the deep end of the pool, is because of his deep, abiding and heartfelt concern that veterans today not have to go through what he's gone through as a combat veteran with PTSD.  Rob spent "one year, seven months, and twenty-one days" as a Recon Marine in Vietnam -- and has fought courageously ever since, to keep a toehold in the land of the living, and the land of the sane.  For anyone who thinks that Vietnam vets with PTSD just check out of life and don't contribute to society, Rob isn't in that mold.  He had his fun -- years as a traveling musician in Canada (he was a drummer in a bar band) -- but also his serious side -- decades spent in law enforcement as a police officer, police chief, K-9 officer, and criminal justice teacher.  He's completed his master's degree, and is struggling to complete a Ph.D. in psychology -- so that he can help other veterans, with PTSD. 

First, though, he has to get his own case in check, and that's been an arduous battle since Vietnam, where the nightmares and hallucinations started, while he was still in combat.  Killing dozens of people, up close and personal has left its mark -- in his book he gets wistful over snipers having it easier, because at least they kill their targets at a distance, and don't have to get soaked with their victims' blood, or watch them take their last breath, from inches away. By the end of the book, when you realize how many people Rob killed in combat, and then also realize the kind, caring person he is (evidenced by his work in law enforcement, for instance -- his book shares some good stories about that) -- you can see why his experiences in Vietnam got to him. 

On the one hand, he was at the top of his game.  His prowess in Okinawan karate gave the Marines an opportunity to further hone his skill as a killing machine; and his overall smarts helped him to be a very strategic, effective one at that.  But one thing comes through loud and clear in his book: that the innocent, 17 year old boy who joined the Marines straight out of high school, and later raised his hand to volunteer for Recon, when the call went out -- that boy not only died in Vietnam, that boy had literally no idea what he was getting himself into. 

Was 40 years of nightmares and the torture of a PTSD-wracked life, with all that that entails, a "fair trade" for not even two heavy-duty years in Vietnam?  That's a tough one.  How about the health problems, coping struggles, failed marriages, hard relationships with children, and simple fight for sanity and survival?  Rob carries the memory of the people he killed, and the way he killed them, every day.  I think that's part of how you can tell he's a "good person" -- because it still bothers him -- in fact it started bothering him at the time.  But of course he had to suppress that, a) to survive and b) to continue to do a good job.  Ever since, though, those memories have been a constant companion, despite the amount of good he's done in his life, and continues to do.

He writes poignantly in the book about that 17 year old boy, who's long gone by now, except in spirit, as he talks about what he imagines the "end of the road" will be like:

"I don't know when or where my journey will end.  You don't terminate dozens of people's lives and not have to stand in front of God and ask his forgiveness.  I have used, and I have been used, in my life; and I'm sure I'll have to answer to God for that also. I know it sounds weird, but I hope to go into heaven as that 17 year old boy that was always smiling, laughing, loving, and full of life..."

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I have to say, because I've come to really care about Rob, I sure hope his "exit" isn't anytime soon.  But it's impossible to learn his story and not realize how high a price veterans can pay, in service to their country.  And the more intense the service -- like Recon Marines -- the more intense the price they're likely to have paid.  They deserve our respect, and honor, and with that, our compassion. 

In the civilian world, there's a concept called "Informed Consent." If someone informs you of the risks, say of surgery or medication, you can always evaluate them and decide pro or con.  Then, if something comes back to bite you later, at least you know that you were warned ahead of time, and made your own decision.  In the military world, obviously, not so much.

I seriously doubt that if any commanding officer had explained to that 17 year old guy at the time, "hey, you look to be in great physical shape, how'd you like to do a super-demanding job for us that's called being a Recon Marine" -- and then explained what the human cost of suffering would entail, for the next 40 years of his life -- that he'd have had any takers. I wonder sometimes whether even the officers knew what the costs would be for the recruits.  In any case, it's been one hell of a journey for Rob, during which he's contributed quite a bit of good to society, and also never been able to fully and completely manage the horrors of what being a Recon Marine exposed him to. 

I have to say, I'm proud of him for what he did -- both as a Marine, and as a veteran -- to do his job, no matter how terrible, excellently at the time, and then afterwards, have this considerable desire that other veterans not have to walk the same incredibly difficult path he's walked.  It's an honor to be his friend, and I hope that somewhere in the bazillions of hits from people wanting to find out about one former Recon Marine -- Rudy Reyes -- that they take the time to also learn about the life and struggles of another former Recon Marine -- Rob Honzell.  They're both worthy of our attention; but I wonder -- will they both receive it?  If you haven't picked up Rob's book, it's a short but effective education in what it takes to serve our country, and the cost that can exact from the veteran, in very human terms. 

I learned just the other day that Rob's counselor at the VA is hoping to recommend his book to all her patients who are combat veterans.  That's a nice, and belated, testament to the caring heart behind this warrior: someone who's willing to pull the skeletons out of his closet, in the hopes that more recent veterans, and their families and caregivers, will understand more quickly the tremendous costs of combat trauma in terms of human suffering among the participants.

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Rudy Reyes is also a gem: someone who's had a hard life and made much of it, given it his all, and is pretty much poised right now to be a star.  I know he knows firsthand the challenges of extreme combat, as a Recon Marine.  I hope that he will use some of his burgeoning celebrity power and charisma for good -- lending his influence for issues that concern wounded Marines and other servicemembers, like combat PTSD.  Like Rob Honzell before him, and his prowess with Okinawan karate, Rudy's facility with martial arts has been a big part of his success, and where he finds some much-needed personal balance. 

Wherever life takes these men, I hope that others will continue to be blessed for knowing them, and for the substantial contributions they have made, both in service to their country and beyond. In Rob Honzell's case, with the publication of his book devoted to making clear the lifetime cost in suffering from just one former Marine's longtime battle with PTSD, I'm pretty sure we already are.  Thank you, Rob.

When PTSD Sufferers Can't Sleep, Award-Winning "Pacific Light" DVD Brings Some Healing Peace

Hyperarousal or heightened anxiety.  Flashbacks, nightmares, intrusive memories.  Intense physiological stress symptoms: pounding heart, rapid breathing, nausea, muscle tension, sweating. Difficulty falling or staying asleep.  Irritability or outbursts of anger. Difficulty concentrating. Hypervigilance, or being constantly “on guard.” An exaggerated startle response, or jumpiness. Inability to relax. All these symptoms are very familiar to PTSD sufferers and their families.

Pacific Light, Wind and Waves Healing Music DVD for Stressed and Anxious Patients.

Into this mix comes the award-winning "Pacific Light" DVD, and the elusive promise of an interlude of healing peace, that might even involve a good night's sleep.

Time, Inc. awarded Pacific Light its first place award for health and medical media.  Alternative Medicine mgazine calls Pacific Light "a breathtakingly beautiful video."  And over 400 hospitals use "Pacific Light" to help provide an atmosphere of healing peace for distressed patients and their families.  Walter Reed, the Mayo Clinic, the U.S. Army, U.S. Navy and the U.S. Marine Corps at Twentynine Palms, plus hundreds of other institutions are becoming fans of this DVD, a combination of stunning cinematography of some of the West Coast's most beautiful locales, filmed at sunrise and sunset, with no cheesy voiceover instructing patients to relax -- instead, the Grammy-nominated, award-winning soundtrack of R. Carlos Nakai's cedar flute music, as arranged by Billy Williams.

Pacific Light is the second DVD in a series by Thomas Day Oates, Jr., an amazing person and personal friend, whose own bouts with serious illness changed his career path into cinematography.  Oates has a very strong conviction about the importance of distressed patients and their families being able to create a space for "healing peace" - he believes the words are almost synonymous -- and that without a sense of peace, people can't begin to heal.

Apparently, a number of hospitals, hospices, and patients agree -- the testimonials are pretty impressive; and even without them, watching a clip of the gorgeous scenery and its peace-inducing soundtrack make the point instantly accessible.  For hospitals and institutions, click here. For individuals and families, click here. Website linked here.  Ordering info: 1-877-835-0838. Special pricing for veterans and their families: $19.98, including shipping and handling (within the U.S./APO/FPO). Call to inquire.

Editor's Note: You know who/where else needs this DVD?  Balad Military Hospital in Iraq. Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany. The Combat Stress Control Unit. Mologne House Hotel in DC. Military chaplains in Iraq, Afghanistan, and stateside.  PTSD residential programs at the VA. VA Medical Centers.  Wounded warrior units.  Wounded troops, wherever they are recovering, at home and abroad.  The possibilities are practically endless.  And not just for the troops themselves: for their caregivers as well, who often are also suffering from vicarious trauma.

Actor and Vietnam Vet Produces Film about PTSD

Military.com has an item today about a new movie, Soldier's Heart, by actor and Vietnam veteran, Brian Delate.   In Military.com's blurb about their interview with Delate they say, "Vietnam veteran and accomplished actor Brian Delate has released his vision of the challenges facing warriors upon their return in his movie "Soldier's Heart."  At a time where a handful of films are being released about the wars and the challenges faced by soldiers, from thoughtful documentaries, to bigger-budget Hollywood treatments for a mass audience, a movie like Delate's -- ostensibly, from someone who knows -- should be a welcome addition.  PTSD is a timely topic, and who better to tell the story than a veteran who's struggled with it himself, as Delate says that he has.  Sounds very promising, and relatable - and likely to make a difference.

The promotional material about the movie -- which looks like it could have used some help in the copywriting department -- is as follows:

"PTSD - sometimes you don't know you have it until your life falls apart.  Elliot (James Kiberd), a Vietnam vet with PTSD has held it together until participation in a documentary about the Vietnam War causes unacknowledged feelings about his experience as a soldier to surface, threatening his marriage to Linda (Cady McClain), alienating his best friend, Richie (Brian Delate) and damaging his career.  In this journey of the heart, PTSD forces Elliot to re-design his blueprint for living with courage and some humor as the truth of his war experience emerges, allowing him to gain a deeper understanding of himself as a veteran, his father as a World War II vet, Richie as a Vietnam vet, and to forge a stronger bond with Linda."

"Finally, a unique film about veterans as told by a veteran -- Soldier's Heart is about Vietnam vet Elliot's waking up to the present and his journey to a deeper self-acceptance -- with regard to the long term effects (PTSD) from the war and his relationships to his family, wife and friends.  Writer/Director and Vietnam veteran Brian Delate is also a veteran actor of film, stage and television.  If you are a veteran -- from any war or you know a veteran, this is a must-see movie."

A link to the film is here. A link to the podcast on Military.com, where writer/director (and actor) Brian Delate talks about his own war experiences, including how he dealt with his PTSD, is here.

Editor's note: Though similarly titled, this film is not the same as the PBS show on Frontline, called "The Soldier's Heart," which we blogged about earlier, here.

Showing Our Gratitude - How to Thank a Veteran

Ever wanted to thank an active duty military or veteran you see out and about, while you're running your errands, but not known how?  Want to avoid a potentially awkward moment with a total stranger, but still convey your appreciation?  (Thank the ones you know, in person -- please.)  Here's a wonderful little film about how you can.  One simple gesture that sums it up, in a gracious, heartfelt way.  Let's hope THIS becomes a trend that sweeps the nation...

As the flm clip memorably says: "It's not about politics.  It's about service.  And sacrifice.  And gratitude."

Way freakin' cool...

Watch the short film here.  Watch the slightly longer, full-length film here.  Learn about more about the Gratitude Campaign here.  BTW -- this is the short version, from YouTube, below:

Film on PTSD from "Saigon to Baghdad"

The Nevada News, a publication of the University of Nevada at Reno,  had an article this week entitled, "The Battle Continues: Life after War," about the screening of a social work graduate student's documentary film about veterans and PTSD, called "Saigon 1965 to Baghdad 2007.P  The film by Michial Nolan examines Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) in veterans from previous wars (i.e., Vietnam) in the context of delayed activation or reactivation of PTSD as a result of the current war in Iraq.

Says the article:

Nolan’s film depicts service personnel experiences in Vietnam, the Gulf War, Afghanistan and Iraq. Two veterans will attend the screening to talk about their experiences. One gentleman will talk about his journey to self-discovery over the last 40 years.

“In conducting the research to produce my film, I found that many veterans from wars other than the war in Iraq were experiencing a reactivation of PTSD based off of images they saw via media,” Nolan said. “In 1999 there were 90,000 cases of PTSD reported. By 2004 that number had increased to 161,000. The projected cost of treating this condition over the last 40 years is between $350 and $700 billion.”

Based on a suggestion from University of Wisconsin professor Craig Werner, Nolan included music in his film to assess PTSD reactivation in Vietnam veterans based on popular music listened to during that time. Some of the songs included are “Another Saturday Night,” by Sam Cook, “Lodi,” by Credence Clearwater Revival, “A Little Help From My Friends,” by Joe Cocker as well as “Chain of Fools,” by Aretha Franklin.

“I want veterans to know that I appreciate their service and have a commitment to understanding the impact war takes on them,” Nolan said. “The film came together so well; I can’t watch it without being moved.”