(WARNING: The following includes graphic description of combat war experience)
“I was a combat medic in the Army for the 1st Cavalry. I served in Iraq from ’04-’05. I was part of the initial surge. Within the first two months I was over there, we were mortar attacked. A whole bunch of mortars came in, probably thirty or forty of them. A few minutes after they stopped, a whole bunch of people came in who were injured.
One of the first ones I took care of was a guy who was on his first day off the plane into the green zone. Shrapnel had cut off half his head. I had to hold it together knowing full well that he was going to die.
It was chaos all around. You have a choice either to sit and lament in your fear or have courage and help out and do your job. You can't just sit around and take your time to soak it all in. You have to deal with it and move on.
It was weird when I got home. Things change, people change, life changes. It was like I brought the war home with me. Dealing with going out in society again without my weapon was a major thing. I had it with me for fourteen months, day in and day out, and then they took it away. I just wasn’t comfortable without my weapon.
Another thing that was difficult was seeing how people were so carefree. Just living their lives: going to the store, doing simple shit, then going home. And me, I can't feel anything. I’m in fear of something exploding. I’m constantly worrying. I’m struggling with nightmares and seeing things in flashbacks.
In 2008, I was working at the VA as a medical technician and a buddy saw how I was acting. He said, ‘Dude, you’ve got PTSD.’ He explained it to me and told me to go get checked out. That's when the doctors started giving me better treatment and helping me. But it's something that hasn't gone away. Nine times out of ten, I’m at home, because it's hard to be out.
I also have pain from running and jumping while wearing all the heavy equipment in Iraq. I did a lot of stuff that made my body wear down. I have no cartilage in my spine, no cartilage in my knees. I have osteoarthritis. Three deteriorating discs in my back. I'm constantly in pain. So, it's a struggle, but I find my peace.”
“How do you do that?”
“My wife and my daughter. I also have a service dog. I guess I just look forward to the good days, because I know there’s going to be good days. My mind might be going chaotic, but in the eye of the storm, I know that one day I'll wake up and it won’t be there.
That's the thing with PTSD, it's not all the time. Sometimes it’s there in full force and sometimes it’s just a low, underlying tone. And those days are good days. So, I stay at home and I have a routine. I go to bed early. Take my medication. Cannabis helps with my dreams. If I keep having a steady rhythm in my life, I should be fine.
I decided to write Combat Medic when I saw a news report that said twenty-two veterans kill themselves every day. I started questioning myself and where I was in my life. I was basically a disabled 35-year-old sitting at home collecting a check. I decided that the best thing I can do is help other veterans, because I’m still alive. I thought sharing my firsthand experiences in a book could make an impact with people who don't know what goes on in war and that it could help people who are dealing with PTSD and suicide, too.
I'm a member here at the James Ballentine "Uptown" VFW - Post 246. I should be voted in as the chaplain pretty soon. I believe that if I keep putting good vibes out there and helping vets, they will stop falling into their own demise. I also work with Project Delta. I coach other veterans to help them train their service dogs better. So, I'm trying to help out as many places as I can. It keeps me going.”
Sam Corporal, U.S. Army