hands

2
January 2010 11 by Tara Puckey ISM Sta T hey were the hands of a man, tough and callused, lled with strength and commitment, but they moved like a child, constantly turning, squeezing one another over and over until the knuckles turned a chalky white. A 29-year-old combat veteran of both the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, the soldier waited in the ragged chairs at his weekly counseling appointment. Serving with the Indiana National Guard, he returned from Iraq in November 2008 to the life of an average citizen— working construction, moving in with his girlfriend and contemplating a return to school. ough he considered himself lucky to have returned physically well, it wasn’t long before the mental aspects of combat began to disrupt everyday life. “It’s not something you realize is happening to you,” he said. “You’re home and happy, but you’re numb from everything that should matter to you. It hurt me and everyone around me.” After a confrontation with his boss, the soldier lost the only job he ever held. Unable to nd work elsewhere, arguments ensued with his girlfriend and those close to him. A physical confrontation was the last straw. “I put my hands on her,” he recalled. “At the time, I didn’t see anything. I just held my hands around her throat. By the time I could focus on her face, she was barely breathing. I thought I killed her.” His head hung low, ashamed of his story. His hands tightened around themselves and they began to take on a bluish tint. e soldier in the waiting room was not alone in his battle with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). According to the Global War on Terror PTSD Diagnosis Report, in 2008, roughly 115,000 veterans were seen at Veterans Aairs health facilities for PTSD after deployments to Iraq or Afghanistan, a number that excludes veterans seeking help from outside sources. Outside sources like Dennis Latham, a Vietnam veteran, has made it his personal mission to help veterans suering from PTSD. Working from his home and funded out of his own pocket, Latham works with mostly Vietnam veterans, but has helped veterans from other wars as well. “Helping other combat vets makes me feel I’m still ghting the war in a positive way,” said Latham. “It makes me feel like I’m helping those I couldn’t help during the war.” rough a newsletter published for over 15 years, Hands iStockPhoto Continued on Page 12

Upload: tara-puckey-freelance

Post on 22-Mar-2016

212 views

Category:

Documents


0 download

DESCRIPTION

A young veteran of both the Afghanistan and Iraq wars struggles to deal with the effects of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

TRANSCRIPT

Page 1: Hands

January 2010 11

by Tara PuckeyISM Sta!

They were the hands of a man, tough and callused, !lled with strength and commitment, but they moved like a child, constantly turning, squeezing one another over and over

until the knuckles turned a chalky white.A 29-year-old combat veteran of both the Iraq and

Afghanistan wars, the soldier waited in the ragged chairs at his weekly counseling appointment. Serving with the Indiana National Guard, he returned from Iraq in November 2008 to the life of an average citizen—working construction, moving in with his girlfriend and contemplating a return to school.

"ough he considered himself lucky to have returned physically well, it wasn’t long before the mental aspects of combat began to disrupt everyday life.

“It’s not something you realize is happening to you,” he said. “You’re home and happy, but you’re numb from everything that should matter to you. It hurt me and everyone around me.”

After a confrontation with his boss, the soldier lost the only job he ever held. Unable to !nd work elsewhere, arguments ensued with his girlfriend and those close to him. A physical confrontation was the last straw.

“I put my hands on her,” he recalled. “At the time, I didn’t see anything. I just held my hands around her throat. By the time I could focus on her face, she was barely breathing. I thought I killed her.”

His head hung low, ashamed of his story. His hands tightened around themselves and they began to take on a bluish tint.

"e soldier in the waiting room was not alone in his battle with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). According to the Global War on Terror PTSD Diagnosis Report, in 2008, roughly 115,000 veterans were seen at Veterans A#airs health facilities for PTSD after deployments to Iraq or Afghanistan, a number that excludes veterans seeking help from outside sources.

Outside sources like Dennis Latham, a Vietnam veteran, has made it his personal mission to help veterans su#ering from PTSD. Working from his home and funded out of his own pocket, Latham works with mostly Vietnam veterans, but has helped veterans from other wars as well.

“Helping other combat vets makes me feel I’m still !ghting the war in a positive way,” said Latham. “It makes me feel like I’m helping those I couldn’t help during the war.”

"rough a newsletter published for over 15 years,

Hands

iStockPhoto

Continued on Page 12

Page 2: Hands

12

Indianapolis Eye Care Center501 Indiana Ave.317-321-1470

Free Off-Street ParkingOn the Canal next to IUPUI

Comprehensive

Eye Care,including specialtiesin contact lenses, lowvision, pediatrics, andocular diseases (likeglaucoma).

Great selection ofeyewear, includingsunglasses, fashionand traditional framesand the latest in lenstechnology.

www.opt.indiana.edu

INDIANA UNIVERSITYSchool of Optometry

Latham provides new information to veterans about PTSD. He also wrote some of the instructions that Veterans A#airs uses for PTSD disability claims and advises veterans on how to correctly navigate the system.

Latham believes the most important role he plays is simply listening.

“I’ve had calls at all hours of the day and night,” said Latham. “Some have even come to my house for help. Sometimes people who know what you’re going through help more than a person behind a desk.”

But people behind a desk can sometimes be helpful.

"e counselor sat behind a massive wooden table, which seemed out of place against the cheap, plastic blinds and outdated wallpaper. With his tie loosened around his neck and his sleeves pulled above his elbows, the casual demeanor seemed to put the soldier at ease.

"en they talked. "ey talked about a !re!ght and the noises that wake him in his sleep. "ey talked about his girlfriend and his

old job. "ey talked about the nightmares and the social anxiety and suicide.

“I’ve thought about it,” the soldier said and hung his head again. “I just wanted to get away, but it would have torn my mom to pieces. I just couldn’t do it.”

Some can. In the wake of high pro!le publicity

suicides of service members su#ering from PTSD, the military struggles to !nd solutions.

According to the U.S. Department of Defense and the Army, from January 2009 through September 2009, there were 81 con!rmed suicides among active duty soldiers and 35 con!rmed suicides among reserve component soldiers like the National Guard and Reserves.

Over the past year (2009), the Army has responded with more than 160 speci!c improvements to suicide prevention programs, such as a partnership with the National Institute of Mental Health and new guidelines for psychological out-processing.

“Whether it’s additional resources, improved training or ensuring those in our Army community can readily identify the warning signs of suicidal behavior,” said Brig. Gen. Colleen McGuire, director of the Army Suicide Prevention Task Force, in a press release, “all our e#orts often come down to one soldier caring enough about another soldier to step in when they see something wrong.”

With the two wars continuing, the military is forced to quickly redeploy soldiers to the battle!eld. Sometimes they return on their own accord.

"e soldier in the counselor’s o$ce considered joining another unit to deploy again, citing the fact he believes the Army is the only place where he can be himself, or at least, who he feels he has become.

“I can wash everything else away—the blood and sweat and sand,” the soldier said quietly. “But I can’t seem to scrub this o# of me. If I don’t, I’m not sure if I’ll make it.”

And his hands were still.

Continued from Page 11

ISM Presents: Spring Orientation Magazine