A few days or a few years ago-it doesn't matter....Eating a local diner my wife and I witnessed an elderly woman with a cane struggling to assist her husband in standing from a bench at a table that was obviously ergonnomically incorrect. Tilted back and way to close to the floor there was no way this frail woman was helping her even weaker husband to his feet. After seeing several people-even men, but apparently only by definition-watch and wait-I too sat, and waited. But, more as an internal cheer for this older man who was weathered and worn. I was rooting for him to gather the strength and pop up off that bad seat. I noticed that he was wearing a WWII veteran hat. I have seen many people wearing this hat and I am filled with pride to see them as both of my Grandfathers were WWII vets. I feel sort of a connection with others that have served at that time. So, after several seconds it was clear that he was not winning the battle against gravity. I walked over to him, asked politely if he needed help as not to offend him-he took a deep breath and conseded-"I think so" After a gentle lift on his arm-mostly by him-Pride provided a boost in adrenaline-and he popped right up and gave a very polite "thank you, son. Merry Christmas to you."
Story number 2. Sorry long winded.
A few weeks back I had the pleasure of treating another WWII vet. A man that was part of the waves of troops to storm the beaches of Normandy, France. Utah Beach was his drop off. Within view of the famous cliffs that another WWII vet that I had met a ways back actually climbed to knock out German strong holds that protected cannons that pelted the beach killing hundreds of US troops.
Ok, so my guy was feeling chatty and was talking about his knees and his back and his neck and his memory and his PTSS (post traumatic stress syndrome). Yup, this man was suffering from memories he had that were over 60 years old. We talked about it. He talked about when he was shot in the knee-pulled up his pant leg to show the scar-he said the bullet broke his femur-the medic just wrapped it up and said-"they need you out there young man." Without complaining-he stood up and hobbled back to his troops and shipped out to the next mission. he also talked about the night he spent pinned down in a cave with a buddy-grenades gun fire and flame throwers toppled over him and he made it out-barely. After a much more detailed story than when I am giving you. He began to shake, terrible tremors in his hands and face. He says this happens when he talks about the war. He gets dizzy-nausious-shakes and cries until he falls asleep-a deep sleep that is blackend with nightmares that haunt him. A few tears rolled down his cheek-I began to well up, too. He just looked at me and said that he should stop-its not good when he has an episode like this. A terrible pyschological happening that I have never encountered. He said he should stop, but this time he continued. As I stretched out his weary legs he talked, wiped his eyes-and continued on a story that Tom Hanks can't reproduce in Hollywood-though I felt like I was right there with him. the detail he gave. Smells, light from the moon, depth of the snow, dampness of their socks from the melting snow soaking into their boots. He also remembered his friend , Buddy. He spoke of Buddy getting snagged on the barbed wire and rattling the can filled with pebbles that alerted the German gun nest of their presence. He spoke of the machine gun fire being so close that he could feel the wind from the bullets as they flew buy his ears-making a hissing noise. As the story went on my guy became more emational-we had to stop the treatment. he needed to go rest. I walked with him to the lounge where he had a cup a decafe and a rest. His shaking was gone and so were his tears. He went home.
The next day he was back with a big smile on his face. He didn't have an appointment. "John, I just wanted to stop by and let you know I was ok." I was worried about him of course. "I have not slept that good in 60 years. I didn't have a nightmare-no cold sweats-and no waking up hearing the hissing of the German gun fire.
the VA doctors have not been able to give me that since they have been taking care of me. Merry Christmas to you and you family."
I am not bragging about my boy scout like actions. But, think about a guy who needs a little boost out of the seat or an ear to bend. It's nothing but time for us but it's a good night of nightmareless sleeping for somebody else.
Story number 2. Sorry long winded.
A few weeks back I had the pleasure of treating another WWII vet. A man that was part of the waves of troops to storm the beaches of Normandy, France. Utah Beach was his drop off. Within view of the famous cliffs that another WWII vet that I had met a ways back actually climbed to knock out German strong holds that protected cannons that pelted the beach killing hundreds of US troops.
Ok, so my guy was feeling chatty and was talking about his knees and his back and his neck and his memory and his PTSS (post traumatic stress syndrome). Yup, this man was suffering from memories he had that were over 60 years old. We talked about it. He talked about when he was shot in the knee-pulled up his pant leg to show the scar-he said the bullet broke his femur-the medic just wrapped it up and said-"they need you out there young man." Without complaining-he stood up and hobbled back to his troops and shipped out to the next mission. he also talked about the night he spent pinned down in a cave with a buddy-grenades gun fire and flame throwers toppled over him and he made it out-barely. After a much more detailed story than when I am giving you. He began to shake, terrible tremors in his hands and face. He says this happens when he talks about the war. He gets dizzy-nausious-shakes and cries until he falls asleep-a deep sleep that is blackend with nightmares that haunt him. A few tears rolled down his cheek-I began to well up, too. He just looked at me and said that he should stop-its not good when he has an episode like this. A terrible pyschological happening that I have never encountered. He said he should stop, but this time he continued. As I stretched out his weary legs he talked, wiped his eyes-and continued on a story that Tom Hanks can't reproduce in Hollywood-though I felt like I was right there with him. the detail he gave. Smells, light from the moon, depth of the snow, dampness of their socks from the melting snow soaking into their boots. He also remembered his friend , Buddy. He spoke of Buddy getting snagged on the barbed wire and rattling the can filled with pebbles that alerted the German gun nest of their presence. He spoke of the machine gun fire being so close that he could feel the wind from the bullets as they flew buy his ears-making a hissing noise. As the story went on my guy became more emational-we had to stop the treatment. he needed to go rest. I walked with him to the lounge where he had a cup a decafe and a rest. His shaking was gone and so were his tears. He went home.
The next day he was back with a big smile on his face. He didn't have an appointment. "John, I just wanted to stop by and let you know I was ok." I was worried about him of course. "I have not slept that good in 60 years. I didn't have a nightmare-no cold sweats-and no waking up hearing the hissing of the German gun fire.
the VA doctors have not been able to give me that since they have been taking care of me. Merry Christmas to you and you family."
I am not bragging about my boy scout like actions. But, think about a guy who needs a little boost out of the seat or an ear to bend. It's nothing but time for us but it's a good night of nightmareless sleeping for somebody else.
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