Oh, Say Can You See . . .

. . . Seth on the big screen?

Thanks to Barbara Talbot, I learned that she and her husband, Bob, took Seth and Chang to a Washington Nationals game Saturday, May 19. Bob and Barbara are volunteers with the Yellow Ribbon Fund. I have not met Barbara, but I met Bob. He hangs out in the lobby at building 62 to meet wounded warriors, find out their needs and interests, and then find a way to mentor them and/or provide access to the things they are interested in--such as tickets to Nationals' games.

Barbara sent me these photos via her iPhone. My reaction was odd--I sat at the computer and cried. It's been so nice to be home, but so difficult to be away from Seth and from first-hand knowledge of what is happening with his therapy and rehab. But I think I was mostly grateful to see him having a good time and to know that there are people like Bob and Barbara in the world.

I must also express my sincere appreciation to the Yellow Ribbon Fund. It is an absolutely amazing non-profit set up for the wounded warriors and their families. They provide airfare and lodging for family members of wounded warriors, getaways for NMAs, parties and other entertainment, and the list goes on and on. Perhaps the most amazing thing about the Yellow Ribbon Fund is the people. They work one on one and face to face with warriors and families. They know us on a personal basis. I cannot say enough about this non-profit and its volunteers.

Fluff and Mumbo Jumbo

Charlie Trentelman let me have his column space for one last article about Seth and me. Here it is.

Mother's Day Article

Since this link is not necessarily permanent, I am posting the content of my essay:

Author Elizabeth Stone said, “Making the decision to have a child - it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. ” My son and heart were blown up by an IED in Afghanistan July 1, 2011, and I spent the last 10 months by his side as he recovered. Charlie and others have said that I deserve the Mother of the Year award for this. I don’t agree. I did what any mother would do, what many mothers have done, are still doing and will continue to do. When I left Walter Reed in April, I left other moms and wives who had already been there a year, some two, with no end in sight. Their dedication is amazing and, for some, came at great expense. 

Though I don’t have any way of knowing, I imagine that for every mom who was thrilled that her child joined the military, there was a mom who was not. I was one of the latter. I thought that joining the military was for “other people’s kids.” Seth had a scholarship to Utah State—what business did he have joining the military? What an arrogant view. For whose children did I think it was their business? 

In Geraldine Brooks’ book March, Margaret March must go to Washington D.C. to tend to her husband, wounded in the Civil War. Her thoughts echo some of my earlier thoughts: “It was folly to let him go. Unfair of him to ask it of me. And yet one is not permitted to say such a thing; it is just one more in the long list of things that a woman must not say. A sacrifice such as his is called noble by the world. But the world will not help me put back together what the war has broken apart . . . I am not alone in this. I only let him do to me what men have ever done to women: march off to empty glory and hollow acclaim and leave us behind to pick up the pieces. The . . . ruined bodies of the boys we bore . . .” 

Most of the time I am not bitter like Mrs. March. Thankfully, the world is helping us put back together what the war has broken. I think volunteering to fight for a cause that you believe in is noble. While I grieve for our wounded children, there are worse fates than this. While I long for peace, it is not enough to be anti-war; we must be wise enough to determine what is worth fighting for and what is not. My greatest hope now is that Seth and his comrades’ sacrifices will not be in vain, that the powers that be will ensure that some good comes from the terrible losses endured. And, because it is Mother’s Day, I will hope that the mothers of Afghanistan and their daughters have better lives because of the sacrifices of our children. 

And that is my point. These soldiers are our children—not other people’s kids. 

What Happens Next

Seth and I came home to Utah on April 16. Seth got to hang out with friends and family, go camping, hit a bucket of balls, and eat at Soul and Bones and Bombay Grill. He took care of our dying dog Rio while Bob and I took a little vacation. Both Seth and Rio were still alive when we returned.

Seth returned on his own to Bethesda on Sunday, April 29.

So what's next? Now that his NMA is gone, Seth should be moved out of building 62 and into the single soldier barracks. We're hoping that he "flies under the radar" for a while and gets to stay in bldg 62 a little longer.

A prosthetic leg for running

He still has a lot of rehab to do. One next step is getting his running leg. To do so requires a bone density scan, which he has done but for which we don't know the results. It will also require his therapist's OK. Our friend Tom has a new "hybrid" leg that can be used to run but also can take a shoe. This seems like a great innovation. We'll see what Seth decides to get.

People ask us how much longer he will be there. We don't know. He still has probably a good six months of physical therapy and rehabilitation, but he also has to go through the Medical Evaluation Board process, which we hear can take a year. This process will determine his disability rating; his disability rating determines what his benefits will be for the rest of his life, so it's taken very seriously. It also requires working through military bureaucracy and, where Seth is, there are quite of few people going through the process, so it just takes time.

On the bright side, there are many opportunities available to wounded warriors there that would not be available elsewhere. Warriors, if they choose, can intern at any government agency, go to college online or on the hospital campus, participate in numerous sports camps and activities including training for the Paralympics, and take part in almost innumerable adventures provided by non-profits and individuals.

I will post updates once in a while, but that will require information from Seth and, when it comes down to it, he's a pretty private guy. Any attention he has received is because his mom wanted it for him, not because he wanted it.

Emancipation Day

Seth and new PT Kyla

If you're wondering why your federal income taxes aren't due until Tuesday, the 17th, it's because today is D.C. Emancipation Day--a holiday to celebrate slave emancipation that began in 1862 and was celebrated until 1901 and was revived in 2002.

It seems a fitting name for the day for Seth and I are leaving the D.C. area--me for good and Seth for two weeks of convalescent leave.

It is with mixed feelings that I leave. It is beautiful here right now--in the 60s and 70s with azaleas in bloom everywhere. It would be easier to leave, I'm sure, in January or July.

We have had a busy week of appointments and activities. Seth hopes to get his running leg when he returns, so he had to have a bone density scan. He continues with daily PT and other niggling appointments like getting his immunizations up to date. On Friday night, I attended my last Friday night dinner; this one was held at the American Enterprise Institute, and it was lovely. It was on the 12th and top floor of their office building downtown, so the view was as impressive as the food and the company. That night, Seth and Chang went to hear Tim Fite at the U Street Music Hall, so we all got to do something we enjoyed before we headed out.

On Saturday, I did my last D.C. thing--attended the Cherry Blossom Parade downtown with friends. It was a perfect day to sit outside and watch bands, balloons, baton twirlers, and overly botoxed celebrities (yes, I'm talking about you, Marie Osmond).

The rest of the day was spent cleaning and packing. In the evening we went to dinner with my cousins whom it has been a delight to get to know better since being here. Sunday we ended with dinner at the Evans', and it warm enough to eat outside. As we visited around the table, 7-year-old Zoe observed that we all have something broken--her elbow, which she had hurt earlier in the week; Chang's arm; Seth's leg; Sylvia's eyes (I had two black eyes once from a car accident); Billy's head because of frequent migraines; and Sally's back. I was moved by her early realization that we all have "stuff."

Fluff and Mumbo Jumbo

In a post not too long ago, I mentioned some things I saw that moved me to tears--in a good way. There are also plenty of things that just make me want to throw up (sorry, I couldn't think of another way to say it). On Tuesday and Fridays, the wounded are brought from Andrew AFB to WRNMMC in a big ambulance, specially equipped to that each warrior has a full team of ICU nurses and doctors and so that they do not feel one bump or jolt on the ride over. I have not seen it very often, but when I do I want to barf. I don't want anyone else to go through what we have and are going through. I want it to stop.

Going to the MATC is usually an inspiring experience as I see guys overcoming great odds to walk again, but once in a while, I just don't want to see any more. A couple of times a week, we see a new guy come in for his first PT in the MATC. We know he's new because he's in a power chair, he still has wound VACs attached and is followed by an IV tower and usually one or two parents looking shell-shocked. Sometimes the shell-shocked look turns hopeful as they see what the guys around them are accomplishing.

Last week I took some unopened medical supplies back up to the inpatient ward. I did not expect returning there to make me sick to my stomach--but it did. It gave me new appreciation for all those who visit the inpatients on the ward and all those who come back to the ward to visit newcomers.

On Leaving
Things I will not miss

• the traffic
• the wind
• the cost of groceries
• having to show my ID at the gate

Things I will miss

• the Metro
• the azaleas
• free meals at the cafeteria
• all the great restaurants
• free museums
• not having to get in my car to go to the gym, post office, Red Box, McDonald's and the convenience store
• the washer and dryer off the kitchen
• Turkey Hill brand Double Dunk ice cream
• the trail system (it is AMAZING!!!)
• many, many people
• Seth

With a few exceptions, I have refrained from naming people who have served us in the blog. I have reserved naming names for the non-profits. I did this because I figured people weren't serving us to get their name posted on the blog and because I would probably forget someone. But I want to thank you all--and you know who you are: those who wrote letters and cards, sent packages, called, brought a meal or goodies, visited from far or near, brought games, gave hugs, lent a guitar, taught a spiritual lesson, gave a blessing, picked us up at the airport, e-mailed, texted, walked dogs, rescued dogs, donated to non-profits that serve wounded warriors, wrote about us and raised awareness, ate at Bombay Grill, and more. Thank you.

Shredding the Tomato

Instructor Anne Goldberg and Seth

Seth returned late Sunday night from his five-day adventure. He was so worn out that he didn't really talk to me until Tuesday. Even then, I had to piece together the trip from overheard conversations and what others told me. Even though the snow was crappy because it was in the 60s every day and his socket hurt him, the consensus was that he had a great time and impressed everyone with his mad snowboarding skills. He said he wasn't quite ready for black diamond runs, but he conquered the blue runs. One of the WRNMMC staff who is also a snowboarder said he smoked her. This must be true because he brought home a certificate indicating he won the "Shredding the Tomato" award. For the uninitiated like me, this is a reference to Shaun White, snowboarding gold medalist, who is known as the Flying Tomato and for his capacity to slice up the slopes. (If Seth had his shoulder-length hair of yesteryear, he would look just like Shaun White.)

Seth shreds it up

I asked Seth to tell me something funny about the trip. He said, "Well, there were eight of us guys, and there were only four legs among us." On the bright side, they had 15 arms out of a possible 16.

Good Comings and Goings

A big week for us. The best thing was a visit from Ethan and Jerrica, Seth's brother and sister-in-law. (We did not get a Christmas letter out this year for obvious reasons, but if we had, the big event in our lives was Ethan and Jerrica's wedding on June 22). They arrived on Friday afternoon, just in time to see the cherry blossoms on the Tidal Basin at their peak. It was truly the best possible day to see them because it had rained every day previously, but that day, the weather was warm and the sky was blue. Back in Bethesda, we overheard a pedestrian refer to us and our Kia Rio as an "f-ing clown car" and so it was dubbed.

On Saturday, we drove in the clown car to Baltimore to the National Aquarium, which we enjoyed immensely, but it was a lot of walking for Seth. But he was glad he walked since we could tell the aquarium could not be easily enjoyed in a wheelchair. The kids are fans of the TV series The Wire, so we drove around Baltimore to see if we could find any Wire sights. In our traveling, we saw Johns Hopkins Hospital. I have complained about the size and labyrinthian quality of WRNMMC, but it is dwarfed by Johns Hopkins, which is positively immense.

Seth did not join us for our Sunday visit to the National Cathedral, but he and the Evans all enjoyed the fudge we purchased there.

Monday night, the kids went to a concert in downtown D.C.--The Joy Formidable. We dropped them off, reluctantly as it was a dicey area of town, and they, thankfully, made it home on the very last train of the night. The concert was definitely the highlight of Ethan and Jerrica's visit for Seth.

We said our final farewell to Greg on Tuesday, and he did a final round of PT with Seth, preparing him for his trip the next day. Also in preparation, Seth got his first carbon-fiber socket. For the first several months, amputees here wear plastic sockets that are more quickly and cheaply replaced while their limbs are changing shape and size. When their limbs have stabilized, then they are fitted with a carbon-fiber socket, which is lighter and more durable, and, it is hoped, will fit for several months rather than weeks.

Todd, our prosthestist, took Seth's plastic socket and put it on an extra leg he had so that Seth would have a leg to wear in the shower since he is not taking his wheelchair on his upcoming trips to Colorado and home. I was excited about this--giving up the wheelchair is a great thing, but it didn't occur to me that with an extra leg, if you're not wearing it, you're carrying it. We have been told that Seth will leave here with several legs i.e. a running leg, a rock-climbing leg, a swimming leg, etc. This sounded great until I had this realization about carrying extra legs. A leg is a lot to haul around, and for double and above-knee amputees, the load is considerable. It is truly thrilling what can be done for amputees these days, but I am constantly reminded of how, not matter how great our technology and know-how is, it can never be as good as the real thing. Even Seth's right leg, as damaged as it is, it still is better than the best prosthesis.

So Wednesday was the big day. Seth left at 0500 with eight other wounded warriors for a five-day trip to Aspen, Colorado, sponsored by Challenge Aspen, where he plans to snowboard. It was just like sending him off to kindergarten the first day--we both knew it was the next step, but neither of us was particularly excited about taking it. As we waited in the lobby, I noticed that there was only one other single below-knee amputee; the rest were double and triple amputees. I'm sure these guys would prefer to be known by their names (Josh, Will, Murphy, Robby, Tyler) than their injuries, but I think it's important to emphasize the injuries these guys have to show what challenges they face every day.

NMA News
Since Seth is now so independent (and now away in Colorado), I have been expanding my horizons a bit and attending some of the activities put on specifically for NMAs/caregivers such as lunches, dinner and movie nights, and horseback riding. Most of the women I have met are wives of wounded warriors. Many have children; many have had children while being caregivers. Some have full-time jobs because they have been here for more than a year. I have also met other moms, some who have been here over two years and some who have been here a year and have no end date in sight. I am amazed at the humor and endurance of these women and the mostly unspoken rule to take care of each other.

One example of an amazing mom is Julie Keys, who I met back in Ward 57 in July. She had already been here a year at that time. Here is an awesome update about her and her son Adam.

Comings and Goings

 The biggest news of the past week or so is Seth physical therapist Greg's announcement that he has given his two weeks' notice and will be gone as of March 30. We are so sad. I will never forget Greg and Joe, the occupational therapist, visiting Seth in the ICU. I thought, "Physical therapy starting in the ICU? Are they crazy?" Then I was just impressed at the forward-moving and positive thinking this represented. So Greg has been with us since day one, and Seth has seen him almost every day since that day in the ICU. Because he has spent the most time with Seth, he has coordinated some of Seth's care in ways probably not expected of a PT but in ways that have been very beneficial to Seth. Greg always has a smile on his face and a challenge for Seth to  undertake. Greg and his wife are expecting their second child and are moving to be closer to family and where a normal house with a yard does not cost $900K. We will miss him so much.

These photos are of Seth's recent testing at the Gait Lab. His ability to do any of this is a tribute to his physical therapist. He is setting benchmarks of performance and then in a few weeks, he will be tested again to see how he has improved. The researchers and therapists will also provide feedback to him and his new physical therapist on what he and they can do to maximize his efficiency in walking and achieve the most natural gait.

I have decided that perhaps the most difficult aspect of military life, besides facing the enemy and getting blown up, is the coming and going. We are also losing Capt Beckman, who has been Seth's counselor since Ward 57 at the old Walter Reed. Coincidentally, Capt Beckman is being sent to Fort Drum, Seth's original assignment. It is frustrating to lose someone with whom Seth has developed a rapport and relationship. These are not "givens" in any situation. The cliche is that nothing is constant but change, and it's a cliche because it's true.

Seth has pretty much ditched his wheelchair. He walks everywhere now. I enjoy walking beside him instead of running behind or pushing him in the wheelchair. He attends many appointments and other duties without me now, and I'm beginning to feel superfluous--which is a good thing.

The Folks Go Out

Last week the location of the Friday night dinner was the New Zealand Embassy. Seth decided not to go at the last minute—because sometimes you feel like being social and sometimes you don’t, so I invited a fellow NMA Debbie whose son Matt was injured in April, so their one-year mark is fast approaching. It turned out to be a good thing for both of us as there is really nothing more therapeutic than talking to another NMA and mom of an injured soldier. Bob came, too, and he visited with his friend Hugh, whom he met at a Kangoo class (Kangoo is another story entirely, as is Hugh, for that matter).

The evening was a lovely affair, beginning with embassy staff performing the Haka, the traditional Maori greeting. 

 This was followed by dinner of traditional New Zealand fare: lamb, chicken with kiwi and mango chutney, couscous, sweet potatoes and, my favorite, pavlova, a meringue tart filled with whipped cream and fresh fruit. Amazing. Our hosts were lovely and gracious, as such people always are. The ambassador Michael Moore greeted Debbie and me individually and presented us each with his personal coin to give to our boys. Ambassador Moore, we learned from former deputy secretary of defense Paul Wolfowitz, was formerly the prime minister of New Zealand as well as the former director-general of the World Trade Organization, but when Bob asked him what he did prior to his assignment as ambassador, he modestly replied, "I was in politics." I hope someday to learn to be so gracious. Thanks again to the New Zealand Embassy staff and Aleethia who sponsors these lovely evenings.