Healing Combat Trauma

PTSD: (That's Some) Pretty Terrible Sh*t (to Have to) Deal (With), Don't You Think?

Editor's Note: We commemorate the otherwise momentous, historic signing of the GI bill into law today with this little snippet of what life was like for someone who served recently.  For everyone who doesn't "get" what sacrifice is, and that those who've served have earned their accolades and rewards, here's a grunt's-eye view of the experience of combat trauma, and how that relates to PTSD and various other topics in the news.  It's doubtful that any one of us would like to have changed places with him, at such a young age.  Herewith, his story, emphasis mine:

---

I'm no Vietnam vet, but a vet of Operation Iraqi Freedom. I turned 18 while in boot camp because I graduated high school at 17. I was discharged early for having "personality disorder" after I went to Iraq.

I was in the Marines, and my MOS was a ground communications electronics technician. A couple months after graduating my training for the job and going to my first unit, I was "volunteered" to join and train with another unit that was leaving soon. The new task I was given was "Mortuary Affairs".

This group was put together with a couple dozen other Marines from other sections. Our job was to go to locations where troops had been killed and not able to be retrieved by the group they were out with due to the fact they were under too much danger or whatever the case. I had no clue the effects this would have on me. It was a horrible experience.

It was not like going and picking up a corpse and that's it. For one, you were in a hot zone, where people were just killed, not just by gunfire.

Here are some brief descriptions of the missions I was a part of...
 

The first one wasn't too bad; the body was actually brought to us at the camp we were at.

 

It was a young male Marine. He was supposedly in a Hummer going somewhere and might not have been wearing his helmet. He had a silver dollar sized hole in the side of his head.

When we get the bodies back the camp we have to take off all materials on the body, and go through and bag each individual body part. It was more of a surreal experience really, I did not know how I was supposed to feel.

Once our troops invaded Fallujah was when things started to get worse. On another of the missions, a truck carrying fuel was crossing a bridge and was shot with an RPG. The truck went off the bridge and fell, the fire burning most of everything.

 

When we went out it was usually just a dozen of us with maybe 2 Hummers of security if we were lucky. For anyone who doesn't know, most the Hummers used were old and poorly maintained/equipped... almost no armor. So we get there and head down to the bottom where the truck fell and we had to pull out burnt bodies from inside of the cabin.

 

It sounds bad, but burnt bodies are almost like burnt food... so perhaps it wasn't as bad as the rest. It did not help our appetite when we had to eat in the same building we processed the bodies in. Our shop was just a medium-sized bunker, no walls or anything so yes we basically ate next to the bodies. It is obvious why some of us didn't eat the meat.

 

The worst mission I went on was when an army tank was traveling down a road and was blown up from a roadside explosive. The bomb was so powerful: you could not identify ANY part of the tank except for the tracks. It had been tossed a couple hundred feet in different directions.

 

It took us I think, about 15 hours to do this mission. There was gunfire when we first arrived but nothing more. I think we picked up a couple thousand pieces of flesh that day. Going through each one individually. They would range from small penny-sized pieces to legs, torsos, heads, feet, testicles, arms, etc.

 

There were a few more missions but we get the idea by now I'm sure. I guess it started to become noticeable that I wasn't doing well. I was taking whole boxes of NyQuil tablets and drinking bottles of medicine to get anything I could out of it at night. I smoked probably a pack of cigarettes a day, which is a lot for me because I have never really smoked more than a couple cigs a day if at all.

 

My officer had me go speak to the chaplain and from there a navy doctor who was a great person to have over there. He pulled strings and had me med-evac'd out of there a few weeks later.

 

In the meantime I had been moved out of my job until I was able to leave. I was harassed for leaving: superiors thought I was just faking to get out.

 

I had become highly depressed and my roommates noticed me screaming sometimes in my sleep.

 

From Iraq I spent a few days at an army hospital in Germany, talking to various doctors and such... going through the process.

 

I was being given pills for depression and for insomnia. Then I made it back to the US and once at my base I was seen by a psychologist. They actually gave me the option to get of the military, so I did.

 

I had been told the process takes several months to year until you finally leave. In the meantime I started drinking daily, and stopped taking the pills they gave me because they seemed to numb my mind and I could not stand it because I have always had such a wonderful and creative mind. It made me feel like a zombie, I could not even create artwork which was my biggest hobby.

 

A month down the road I started having nightmares, very detailed and morbid. A few times I would wake up with tears. I began having suicidal thoughts and crying at least a few times a day. Thank God my best friend was stationed not so far, he saved my life I think.

 

It was hard for me to wake up because of the medicine I had been taking, that’s another reason I stopped it, I was always drained. The first week I was back I never even reported back to my old unit, I didn't know what I was doing.

 

A week later they send somebody to come get me. There, I was harassed and treated like a piece of s%#t some more by my master sergeant. They had me sit in inventory room all day while I struggled to stay awake. I luckily had a very kind staff sergeant in charge of me at the time. He would let me sleep and go home early.

 

I admit I was very lucky in getting out, because it only took me about 2 months until I was officially a civilian again. I was going back home. I stayed with my older sister and her boyfriend at first, because I was not too fond of going back to my parents. My depression got worse and I started to drift further from sanity and comfort; people noticed I was a different person.

 

At this point I started smoking marijuana occasionally. Which was really the only time I felt anything, happy, able to think, speak, talk to people, feel normal.

 

Eventually I moved back with my parents and that's when things got worse for me. I had some additional problems I know was facing, I needed a job, and had people on my back constantly. I had no access to marijuana during this time.

 

My insomnia got to its peak to where I could not sleep AT ALL at night. I also began having more suicidal thoughts, nightmares got worse and I had them ANY time I could sleep which was usually from 7:00 AM to 12:00 PM, began having auditory and visual hallucinations everyday, and constant anxiety.

 

I knew I had PTSD and that the military used "personality disorder" so that they would not take the rap for it.

 

I finally couldn't take the insomnia anymore and was prescribed Ambien, which actually works extremely well and helped get my body back on schedule, only thing is I had to take it for 3 months and then no more because they said it was addictive.

 

So it became difficult without it. I did a long process of seeing doctors and filling out paperwork for the VA and was finally officially a disabled vet due to chronic Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, normally referred to as PTSD.

 

I started to be able to get a hold of marijuana again and when I had it things were more stable. My temper was not out of hand and I could sleep comfortably having less nightmares. At this point I had gone a year or more straight of having nightmares every night.

 

It has been three years now and I am much better. Time has healed me a little and I smoke marijuana as often as I can. I don't have hallucinations anymore, or rarely any nightmares. I do however still have bad anxiety, temper, and depression problems when I'm not high.

 

Another thing I forgot to mention is that PTSD has basically ruined my memory. Since I first showed symptoms until now, my memory does not work nearly as well as it should.

 

I still have major problems concentrating and working sometimes too. It makes interviews and other social activities near impossible for me, as I cannot speak or express myself as I used to. I get very nervous and my mind blanks out sometimes. I cannot say if marijuana will help all my problems, but I can say marijuana helps me feel alive.

 

Being high is the only time I feel good and happy, deep down. I can be around loved ones or any social crowd without tweaking out from anxiety, I can think and operate much more smoothly, I don't have a short temper, and it makes me want to live.

 

The past couple months have been rough on me and I have been going to the VA hospital here to try and get help. The first 4 times I went, they did the same exact thing which was to ask a series of questions, ask me if I want pills and send me home. I kept telling them I did not want pills because I have seen what they have done to people I know and what they have done to me.

 

All I wanted was someone to talk to.

 

After the fourth time of going in there feeling like I wanted to die, they finally got someone for me to talk to. We have just met once so far, but I think it will be good for me.

 

In the meantime I have not been able to smoke recently because I am trying to find another job, which is not going too well and I only have a couple weeks before my current job ends.

 

I have had a few interviews but blow them miserably because it’s getting harder and harder for me to go through the whole thing without my nerves choking me to death. It’s only been a week or two since I smoked last and my temper and depression are already busting through the door. I worry too easily and stress out to the extreme.

 

Take what you will from this story, but I know for a fact marijuana has saved my life numerous times.

 

-- One young former Marine's story, in his own words. Used with permission.

Editor's note: "Mortuary Affairs" was also the detail highly-decorated Marine ("Marine of the Year") Daniel Cotnoir worked in Iraq, before a combination of circumstances, including PTSD, triggered an event in his hometown of Lawrence, Massachusetts -- which got him arrested, and barely escaped conviction.  We have blogged about Daniel Cotnoir's case many times on this blog, going back several years, when it was current.  It's safe to opine, that even within the trauma of war, some things are harder to endure than others.  Our guess would be, mortuary affairs really qualifies for extreme hardship and exposure to things that make PTSD an occupational hazard.

Making an Attempt to "Strip the Fuse" - Initiating Dialogue between Local Police and Veterans

NPR has another great story today, on a few OIF/OEF (Iraq and Afghanistan) combat veterans telling their stories in a public setting, in an attempt to defuse potential conflict with the communities where they live, especially with the police.  The story is called, "Dialogue Bridges Divide between Vets and Police," reported by Libby Lewis, and you can read the story or listen to it, here. It highlights the work being done by Jay White of the Hartford, Connecticut Vet Center, a facility funded by the Department of Veterans Affairs. According to Lewis, "before becoming a counselor, White served two tours in Iraq. The dialogues he moderates are meant to connect veterans with people who have no experience with war, namely people who deal with trouble — like police and emergency rescue personnel. These are the people whom soldiers returning home often find themselves dealing with."  It's great to see necessary, proactive stuff like this.

A surprising statistic, quoted in the story, by Brian Killany, a police crisis negotiator:

"The chances of [veterans] becoming a target group for us to have to deal with as a [police] negotiator is probably better than 50-50.”

Y-I-K-E-S.  Forewarned is forearmed -- no pun intended.  So much better to prepare for this in the way this program is doing, than be surprised by it -- when it's clearly a strong possibililty.

The NPR story also highlights the work of a Connecticut-based group, "Brothers in Arms," which the program says is "run by Iraq veterans with a mission of helping other returning soldiers. They also organize public speaking events to create awareness among civilians about the struggles of war veterans."  Their information is linked here.

---

In addition, although not mentioned in the story, there's a great, 10 minute long video available on YouTube, which we blogged about here, by William R. Keating and the Norfolk County (Massachusetts) District Attorney's Office.  It's called "PTSD and Veterans: Beyond the Yellow Ribbon," and part of what it addresses is the re-integration of a combat veteran into his or her community, including the possibility of conflict with the police, and how both sides can manage that.  Well worth watching and bookmarking. The blog post we did about it a year or so ago is linked here, and it includes the video.

(Other counties in Massachusetts and in other states should consider contact William Keating's office and seeing if they can use the video with their constituents.  Information useful for contacting the Norfolk County (Massachusetts) District Attorney's office is linked, here.)

---

Recently, we blogged about the similarities that cops and troops share in their exposure to cumulative increments of trauma, which often result -- for either of them -- in PTSD.  Ultimately, cops and trops may find out that they may find out they have more in common than they thought -- in terms of what they've been exposed to in their lines of work -- not just wearing uniforms, working out and carrying guns to work. 

Editor's note: The Hartford, Connecticut Vet Center information is linked here.  The directory lists Jay White but provides no additional contact information for him; undoubtedly, he can be reached the Center.

NPR Local Affiliate KQED's Story about VA Being Sued over Veterans' Healthcare

According to a story aired today on KQED -- a San Francisco public radio and television station, and NPR affiliate -- Berkeley, California's Disability Rights Advocates recently filed a lawsuit "that could affect thousands of veterans returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. They allege that the Department of Veterans Affairs is unable to provide timely mental health treatment for returning veterans. It describes a backlog of 600,000 claims for vets seeking care — some dating all the way back to the Vietnam War." To listen to the approximately five minute story, click here.  (And yes, this is the lawsuit that's produced the incendiary emails that have lately been in the news, including the infamous "shhh..." one about veterans suicides, which we blogged about earlier, here.)

Editor's Note: For more information about the veterans access to healthcare lawsuit in Federal court, as provided by the Disability Rights Advocates website, click here.

Chaplain John Morris, Minnesota National Guard

Caveat gentle reader: We have no idea if Chaplain John Morris, oft-quoted chaplain of the Minnesota National Guard, is any sort of functional expert on PTSD.  What we do know is he's a straight-talking, reasonable proponent of caring for the troops, and as such, he totally has our vote of confidence.  Here's a little biographical information about him:

John Morris, an Army Reservist, has served in Norway; Kuwait; Qatar; Iraq; Cuba; Ft. Steward, Georgia; Ft. Benning, Georgia; Ft. McCoy, Wisconsin; Ft. Bragg, North Carolina; and Ft. Irwin, California. After serving as senior pastor at St. Croix Valley United Methodist Church for eight years, he was mobilized to serve with Army Special Operations Command in January 2004. In Iraq, he visited Psychological Operations teams in 17 different camps. Chaplain Major Morris is currently a full-time chaplain with the Minnesota National Guard. He is a 1986 graduate of Minnesota's Bethel Seminary.

He's frequently quoted by NPR, the Cloquet, Minn. Pine Journal, which did a fine series of articles on Minnesota's returning National Guard veterans, and the Christian Science Monitor.  We've blogged about hm in a series of posts, linked here.  He's immensely quotable, and he's a heartsy proponent of meeting the troops head on with the type of care they need, and he seems to have that rarest of all professional qualities -- a serious clue.  I'm a huge fan...

(References to Chaplain John Morris of the Minnesota National Guard on this blog are here, here, here, and possibly here, not to mention, most recently, here.)  In his wonderful essay, linked here, you can read his thoughts on "Beyond the Yellow Ribbon: How Churches Can Help Soldiers and Their Families Readjust after Combat."  (A podcast by Chaplain Morris is linked on another blog, here.)

One Great Book: "Home to War - A History of the Vietnam Veterans Movement," by Gerald Nicosia

"The Past Does Not Equal the Future" -- queue Tony Robbins -- well, unless we refuse to learn the copious lessons of the past, in which case it very well might -- or it might make the past look positively enlightened, by comparison.  Another take on the same thing, by the perennial, inveterate quotemeister himself, Ben Franklin: "Experience keeps a dear [expensive] school, but fools will learn in no other."  I'm reading the greatest book right now, recommended by another journalist who's interested in veterans issues -- "Home to War: A History of the Vietnam Veterans Movement," by Gerald Nicosia, linked here.  It's 2 lbs., 10 oz., 689 pages, and roughly 136 cubic inches of nowhere-else-to-be-found material on the actual history of what created the Vietnam veterans' movement, which informs the veterans' rights movement of today, including the efforts to destigmatize PTSD, figure out what it was, re-include it in the DSM manual for psychiatrists (where it had been removed), etc.  Just fascinating.  All the players are there -- dozens of politically important types, including John Kerry, Ron Kovic (if you've seen "Born on the Fourth of July," you know who he is) as well as therapeutically important ones -- Shad Meshad, Ray Scurfield, Arthur Blank, M.D., Sarah Haley, etc. 

As a late-model Child of the Sixties, I had completely forgotten how much sheer effort -- blood, sweat and tears -- it took to get certain things passed that we now take for granted: better care at the VA, better provisions in the GI Bill, etc.  I had totally forgotten about the armed protests, the hunger strikes and sit-ins at the VA, etc.  It made me wonder whether leaders of the current veteran rights movements actually KNOW this history, and know how far their predecessors had to go, to secure the rights veterans rely on today -- which still need to keep pace with the times, and haven't.  The book is just plain fascinating, and b/c it's relatively neutrally written (as opposed to written with partisanship), with a steadfast focus on the facts and the key participants -- and because it's based on 600 or so interviews with the actual players, it's both extremely well done (a PBS series in book form, but with more depth!) and should keep my interest for quite a while.  So fascinating to know, or begin to hazily recall, the all-important "backstory" of where we are today.  And the insights on the genesis of understanding PTSD are well worth revisiting, all on their own.  Great book - wish I'd known about it before. As more and more veterans send me (unsolicited, I might add) their life stories, or their experiences with PTSD, I have to say -- this book really puts an awful lot together, behind the scenes, as to why they suffered in silence for so long.  Wonderful effort, and a pleasure to read.

Too bad tomorrow is already "Father's Day," but if you're lacking a gift for a veteran dad, Vietnam era or later, and can find this in stock at a local bookstore, it's a superlative collection of everything that went before, and helps us to understand the issues of the present, through the highly informing prism of the past.

Patriot Hills: A Recreation and Wellness Center for Wounded Warriors Planned for Upstate New York

The Albany Times-Union has an article in Friday's paper, linked here, called "A Bridge from Wartime to Civilian Life: Fundraising begins for Patriot Hills, a planned wellness center for National Guard soldiers."  According to the article, Jeannine Mannarino, 48, a retired Army National Guard master sergeant, and dozens of volunteers are creating a nonprofit group to fundraise a planned $21 million to crate a "wellness and recreation center for wounded warriors in the Adirondack foothills."  The article says Mannarino, who is divorced from her husband, a Vietnam veteran who became "a different person" once he had PTSD, "envisions Patriot Hills of New York as the first Armed Services Recreation Center geared to National Guard members and the treatment of military-related maladies," including PTSD.  As the article mentions, "The concept of combat veterans recovering through recreation and professional therapy is innovative and timely," said Mannarino," and adds,

"Patriot Hills would be a therapeutic mountain resort for National Guard soldiers and others who return from war or are diagnosed with trauma. It would give them access to sports and entertainment, but also counseling in a relaxing environment."

This sounds like a great idea.  The National Guard in particular seems underserved, nationally, and we wish this project and Ms. Mannarino, every success.  It will not be the only initiative of its kind: several private initiatives have sprung up over the last few years, but their current status is unclear.  There's the proposed Veterans' Village in Guerneville, California, which is currently getting opposed by its NIMBY-conscious neighbors; and The Sanctuary for Veterans and Families, envisioned by Stacy Bannerman, author of When the War Came Home: the Inside Story of Reservists and the Families They Leave Behind, which seems to have stalled out, either temporarily or permanently.

Survivors Quilt: Combat Veterans Patch Meaning Together in Quilts about PTSD, War and Loss

You've heard of survivors' guilt - here we've got survivors' QUILTS.  (Bad pun, I know -- but true.)

We've been talking a bit lately about art therapy, and how combat veterans with PTSD use it successfully to tap into, and work through, some of the pain they feel inside. The photos here, by Mike Kane, at the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, are from a story published on March 19 about how the inpatient PTSD program at the VA hospital in Seattle has a "wall" of quilt squares, made by combat veterans, and encouraged by a nurse, Betsy Shapiro (she's at right, above), now retired, who gave deeply hurting veterans 6x6" cotton squares, on which to draw something or paint something that related to their experience: something they could leave behind, to let others know about them and what they had gone through. 

Initially, there was moaning and groaning, and reluctance to comply.  But shortly thereafter, everyone produced something, and the results were really pretty impressive.  The veterans also gave input into how they wanted the resultant squares displayed -- not set in pretty frames, like squares in a regular patchwork quilt might be, but together, side-by-side, touching.  The article, by Mike Barber, is called "Veterans tell stories in patchwork of memories," and it's linked here.

In an earlier article, from the Honolulu Advertiser from October 2, 2007, linked here, Glenn Reys, an Air Force vet in Honolulu worked through his recovery from drugs and alcohol by immersing himself in making a Hawaiian quilt, symbolic of his homeland, but also incorporating patriotric U.S. symbols.  He found himself devoted to the practice, and able to quilt for hours at a time.  "This kept me busy," Reys said. "When I do sewing like this, I can sew for like six or eight hours, and it's no problem. That's what I do in my continuing recovery."

In one of the best articles I've read about a Vietnam vet, Cecil Ison, struggling with PTSD, the author, Kathy Dobie, talks about visiting his home in Kentucky and watching his wife, Bet, a quilter, work on a quilt with Vietnam themes. Cecil and his two brothers all served in combat in Vietnam, and each responded in a different way.  Cecil's wife, Bet, attempted to capture her view of what they suffered in the quilt, turning an abstract -- feelings about the war, and the isolation it produced -- into something very concrete -- the quilt. She says that the quilt is too painful for Cecil to address directly, but through it, she is able to give vent to some of her feelings, about what she has watched her husband and his brothers go through.  Kathy Dobie writes:

[Cecil's wife, Bet, and I are spending time one afternoon.] We’re talking upstairs in the sewing room while she works on her Vietnam quilt. The room is stuffed with fabric: tweeds, cottons, velvets, hundreds of men’s ties. Bet sews at a small table by the window. She listens to oral histories of Vietnam veterans as she works. On the left side of the quilt is an army-green map of Vietnam, showing the three cities where James, Cecil, and Arnold served. The rest of the quilt is blue, and three male figures float there, separated from one another and bearing labels: anger, despair, and guilt. The quilt reads: "my husband and his brothers came home from vietnam…three islands in an ocean of silence."  James is the Angry one, Cecil the figure of Despair, and Arnold is Guilt.

(This is the quilt in question, pictured to the right.  From top to bottom, you can see "Anger," "Despair," and "Guilt," and "Vietnam" is written lengthwise, on the left.)  Quilt copyright Bet Ison.

Below is another quilt with Vietnam imagery by Bet Ison.  Both quilts are copyright Bet Ison, and property of the author.  Photos are shared with Bet Ison's permission.

(The article by Kathy Dobie article in GQ, is called "The Long Shadow of War," and we blogged about it earlier, here.  Dobie is also the author of the excellent article in the Nation, recently, called "Denial in the Corps" -- about Marines and the stigma of mental health issues, including PTSD, which we've also blogged about, here.)

Quilting is a uniquely American tradition.  Not that other countries haven't had their own versions of it, but it's uniquely tied up in the "fabric," as it were, of American history.  There are so many examples, from crazy quilts made of just scraps of silk, satin and wool garments, patched together on wagon trains as Americans headed West, to quilts made from flour sacks by pioneer women, to Civil War era "album quilts," to today's photo transfer quilts.  Quilts are often about "making do" with just the mater