Tag Archives: Paul

It doesn’t always get better

There has been a lot of attention paid lately to the problem of suicide among young gay people. Getting at-risk groups more help is an important and wonderful thing, and I hope the “It gets better” campaign succeeds in its goal. Today being Veterans Day, I wanted to discuss another group that has seen an alarming rise in suicides over the past few years: military personnel, past and present.

NPR reports:

There were 197 Army suicides in 2008, according to the Army’s numbers. The total includes active- and non-active-duty soldiers.

Last year, the number was 245. This year, through May, it’s already 163.

Meanwhile, the Associated Press reported on a Veterans Affairs (VA) study that discovered suicides among veterans aged 18 to 29 rose 26% from 2005 to 2007. And that number doesn’t include women veterans.

There are so many reasons for these suicides, from the difficulty in getting post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) recognized as an illness to the very culture of the military, which considers any form of weakness to be unacceptable. And if you’re soldiers in a situation where you have to rely on each other to survive, it’s understandable that you would want everyone around you to be strong, and to be strong for them. The problem is that the military creates soldiers to think like this, but provides little support once the soldier returns to civilian status, which often clashes with military training and thinking, even in mundane, everyday life.

On-duty soldiers considering suicide are lucky if they manage to get a sympathetic ear. My husband Paul, who was Army Airborne and a Special Forces selectee, told me about his time on a U.S. military base in Italy. There, anyone who had to be put on suicide watch was considered an annoyance at worst, and at best the target of derision and disgust. “Just do it already” was a common sentiment among the men who had to stand guard.

Salon.com has done an excellent job of reporting and analyzing on these problems. But as much as the military may improve its support, or even manage to foster a greater tolerance for PTSD and other service-related mental illnesses, there’s still public opinion. When Vietnam veterans returned home, in some cases they were met with hostility and insults like “baby killer!” by protesters who blamed the troops for their part in the war. Things have generally improved since then, but still, some people who are against the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan continue to blame the soldiers, this time with the added ammunition that “they all volunteered to go off to war.

I worked at a suicide hotline in San Francisco, where I spoke with many veterans. Not everyone who called the line was in immediate danger of killing him- or herself; in fact only a small percentage of our calls were like that. Most of the veterans I spoke with were homeless, and I heard many stories of the dire straits that put them there (and many invectives hurled at the VA). I was good at talking to people without judging the reasons they were calling. And as I mentioned, my husband is a veteran, and of course I’m proud of him. Despite having seen some awful things, thankfully he returned without suffering from PTSD.

I was considering this fact when I was researching this post, and the thought crossed my mind that he had a lot of strength of character to go through his service and return mentally unharmed. Then I realized that the inverse of that belief is that people must be weak if they struggle with, or succumb to, PTSD or suicidal impulses. Do I really believe that? It’s the exact opposite of what I thought I believed, that given the horrors of war, it’s not a question of strength when soldiers return unable to shed those experiences. This is something I need to examine, and if a bleeding-heart commie pinko liberal like me thinks this way, I can only imagine that there must be many others who do as well, consciously or unconsciously.

Tonight, HBO is airing a new documentary chronicling the history of combat disorders from the Civil War until now. I think it’s a great thing to air on Veterans Day and I plan to watch it. Unfortunately, for so many veterans suffering from these disorders, it doesn’t get better. The promise of hope, if they even get that much, is an empty one.

If you have no veteran to hug today — and even if you do — you can help instead by donating to a charitable organization in support of these wounded warriors and their families. The Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund, in addition to providing funds for families who have suffered military losses, has built a new facility specifically to study and aid patients with traumatic brain injury and PTSD. Another organization is the Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors, which among other things provides seminars about military suicide prevention, and support to the survivors.

I will be hugging my veteran tight today, and be grateful that he is whole without letting it be a judgment on anyone’s strength. And I will be thinking about those who haven’t been so lucky. They fought for us, and it’s only right that we should  fight for them.

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Anniversaries

October and December have parallel anniversaries for me, one set that is joyful and the other, not so much.

This October is the fourth anniversary of my diagnosis with CFS. And December will be two years since I had to stop working, which is how I mark the beginning of my disability.

December, though, is also the month when I met the man I was going to marry, eight years ago, and October is the month I married him. It will be three years on the 27th and it still feels like I just met him.

What’s the significance of the parallels, or all these numbers? Nothing, really. I didn’t have a good handle on my topic for this week, and I made a last-minute decision to ask someone I admire to do a guest post. In the process of asking, it just occurred to me that not only has my favorite season arrived, but it’s also “anniversary season.” I also realized the other day that in two years it’ll be a decade that we’ve known each other, and our five-year wedding anniversary. That’s kind of a nifty, satisfying coincidence, numerically speaking. (Not numerologically speaking. That’s just silly.) So I thought I’d mention it.

It’s natural to mark the passage of time, but I don’t tend to get maudlin over the medical anniversaries. I just note their arrival, think about it for a bit, and move on. I do tend to get maudlin over my anniversaries with my best friend and love of my life…because in the end, what he’s brought into my life is much greater than what the CFS took away.

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Weekend sendoff: Stuck in the sand

Hey look, it’s a new post! That must mean WordPress has behaved for 10 whole minutes in a row. I could believe in miracles.

The blog is still under construction; bugs abound, there’s some typographical stuff I need to hunt down and fix, and I’m also not 100% on the new layout yet. What do you think?

I’m a bit more of a spectator than a participant these days. I’m happy to say there’s been progress on my pet project that I’m very excited about. But as far as other work and projects, I’m in something of a holding pattern. The past couple of months of doctor visits, diagnostic tests, and a roller-coaster of hope for a new and definitive diagnosis has actually left me two steps back, with my CFS doc now convinced I have more of a “CFS Plus,” based on my inexplicable bout of optic neuritis and some other problems that don’t quite fit the profile.

So I’m left with worsening symptoms and even less idea of what’s really wrong with me. Normally I get past these kinds of setbacks relatively quickly, but it’s been tougher this time. Chronic illness is a constantly fluid situation; it’s kind of like standing on a seesaw that someone else is moving up and down, and you learn to adapt to the wobbling, even if you’re caught off balance from time to time. Right now I feel like I got thrown off the seesaw and landed face-first in the sandbox. It’s just sand, so I’ll make it out, but it’s kind of deep, so it might take a while.

In other health news, Paul and I both got our TDaP boosters today. In case you didn’t know, there is a serious outbreak of whooping cough (pertussis) in California right now, from which nine infants have died so far. These babies were too young to be vaccinated, so they were most likely infected by a well-meaning adult with no idea he or she was a carrier. This is scary to me because I consider myself pretty well educated as a layperson when it comes to vaccines, and I had no idea until this year that adults need not just tetanus boosters, but the whole tetanus/diphtheria/pertussis combo. We can’t just write this off to the antivaxxers; this is a serious failing in patient education, to my mind.

But at least Paul and I can now go visit our friends’ adorable new babies, safe in the knowledge that we’re as medically protected as possible from causing them  harm, and that we’ve done our part for herd immunity. On that note I’d like to send you off with this great song about vaccines and how they’ve made life better for us.

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