Scars

My husband was at a store the other day and a guy in the same aisle started staring wide eyed at the jagged unforgiving red and purple lines that encompass his entire arm. The scars that leave a mystery to the unassuming yet tell a story of life changing in an instant.

It was obvious that he was trying to figure out what he had to have done to end up with an arm that disfigured and fingers slightly curved and paralyzed in place. It wasn't long before his curiousity finally got the best of him.

"What happened to your arm?" he blurted out, as though it were any of his business.

This is usually the part where I would've explained what happened, which is usually followed by apologetic looks of sympathy and a mumbled thank you for your service.

My husband simply said, "I got hurt." He left it at that and walked away because he's not about to be into all of that hero stuff.

At one time, his body had over a thousand stitches. In the first few months after he was released from the hospital, people would stare when we went out somewhere. Eating was awkward for him because he couldn't hold any utensils and it took some practice learning to use his non-dominate hand. Sometimes I had to cut up his food for him because he couldn't do it. Even now he'll randomly drop things or spill something because there's no strength in his arm or his hand just won't work.

We take so much stuff for granted. Sometimes the smallest things are the biggest challenges for someone else. He works hard at just being normal and making the most out of the hand that he's been dealt, that sometimes I forget he's wounded. I don't really notice the scars and to our kids they are just a part of who he is. We spent so much time at the hospital and in lodging around other wounded warriors that the kids learned to just be accepting of everyone else. I never had to tell them not to point and stare or not to ask questions. If you ask my oldest what she remembers most about her daddy being in the hospital, she'll probably tell you that her little Lightning McQueen car fell down into the elevator shaft. Or maybe she'll recall blowing out four birthday candles while sitting on the hospital bed.

Sometimes I miss being at that hospital and being around other wounded warriors and their families. As stressful as it was at times, there's comfort in being surrounded people people who just simply get it and understand the same sudden detour that our lives took. We never had to worry about people staring or asking questions. Everyone had some sort of battle scars, telling their own stories without words, yet connecting them all from where they'd been.

20 Months

It's hard for me to believe that we are closing in on my husband's 2nd Alive Day. I never thought we would be here for 2 years. It feels like we're so close to the next chapter, the end is in sight but we're still not quite there. We've been talking about my moving with one or both of the kids over the summer, so we won't have to have our daughter switch schools in the middle of the year. I said something to my counselor about it and she thought I was talking about a marital separation. I'm not looking forward to living in separate states, but being a military family, I guess we're just accustomed to being apart. That aside, we just have to get on with our lives and I need to get back to working full time again and find a house, etc. It feels like our lives have been on hold for 20 months. 20 months and 20 surgeries, and surprise, there's another one coming up. Soon it will be 21 months and 21 surgeries.

Not to be outdone, I'll be having surgery myself later this month. I've decided that I hate been and having the metabolism of a teenager and would prefer to have no metabolism at all. All kidding aside, I'm having a thyroidectomy to treat my Graves' Disease. I could've had it treated with RAI, and not be cut open but without going into detail, I think surgery is the right option for me. It's certainly not an overnight decision, in fact, I've been thinking about it for about 4 years now.

Today I finally did something that I've also been talking about since my husband was released from the hospital. I went to the spa on post and had a deep tissue massage and a deluxe pedicure. Eight years ago, I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia. It used to bother me a lot more but now it's more infrequent, but when I have a flare up, it's still pretty uncomfortable. The best way I that I can describe it is that it's like a nauseating pain and achy feeling. I have these trigger points that are very painful when pressure is applied to them and that's exactly what I had done today. I've read that a deep tissue massage is a good choice for fibromyalgia patients but painful and it was indeed painful and I'm definitely tender but surviving just fine. What put it into perspective for me and made me realize that it was pretty trivial, was when my massage therapist was telling me about one of his regular clients who is a wounded warrior who lost both of his arms and both legs overseas. It really makes you feel grateful for what you have.

Today makes 2 months in the hospital.

Paul had his arm unattached from his side last Thursday and the doctors were happy that he was healing up better than they expected. Unfortunately while he went into the hospital with one injury, he will be leaving with two and a whole lot of scarring. His side is in pretty bad shape from all the infections (there ended up being more than 2, a bunch of smaller ones kept invading him) and he still has staples and stitches that will have to come out. As of right now he still has two drains coming out of his side that they are hoping to take out at some time today. His arm looks like it swallowed a tennis ball because it sticks out in a rounded shape where the new section is. So rather than sinking in like it did before it sticks out and is still stitched all around it.

I honestly don't think either one of them look bad but Paul has times where he gets pissed that he's going to be disfigured for the rest of his life (his words, not mine). I know he's going through a lot of different emotions about this and that it's normal and all but it's hard to watch someone you love dealing with this stuff and not being able to fix things. He's ready to get out of the hospital and go home and get back to driving a car and doing his every day normal things and I think he's going to be a bit surprised at how tough some things are going to be for him. He insists on not going back to the hotel when we have a perfectly good house to move into but the WTU may have other plans and want to keep him close by. That should be an interesting battle.

I did finally meet up with one of the other spouses here from the unit. Her husband is in pretty bad shape with 52% of his body being burned and losing part of his arm. Yet he's doing really well from the sounds of it and still doing his best to joke around with his wife through all the tubes in his throat. I can tell just by talking to his wife that they'll be alright and will get though this. She was telling me of another spouse who saw her badly burned husband and decided that she couldn't handle it because he didn't look like the man she married so she left her ring by his bed and left their kids with his parents. A month or so later the guy had died. I can't imagine what goes through some of these guys minds to not have their families by their side every step of the way. I know a lot of them have to be worried that their wives are going to reject them because of the way they look now. That's one of the reasons I keep telling Paul that his arm and side aren't that big of a deal. It's not to minimize it or anything like that but I just want to remind him that we can deal with this and that things will be okay.

Hopefully the next update I post will be to say that he's gotten out of the hospital. That was supposed to happen today but we still haven't heard yet what's going on.