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So Here Goes
by James Glaser August 4, 2011 
I'm sitting in the waiting room at the VA waiting for my appointment. I always try to get there early with the hope that somebody will blow off their appointment, and I'll get in early. That almost never happens, and it didn't this time either. So, there are about twenty chairs set up with ten facing the other ten. I think maybe they are trying to get people to talk. There is a unisex restroom at one end, and table with old magazines at the other. Not that long ago that restroom would have been a Men's restroom, but today there are so many women vets, they had to change the signs or build new ones. Signs are cheaper. There are seven people there. Two old WW II vets in wheelchairs. One with his wife pushing him and the other with, I guess his daughter. Across from me is a guy claiming to be a retired full bird Colonel. I say he is claiming that, because after 40 years of dealing with the VA, he is the first staff officer I have ever seen there. In the military officers don't hang around with enlisted, and I think it is the same when they get out. So, maybe he was, and maybe his stories about Iraq and Afghanistan were true. He didn't claim to be a pilot or a infantry officer, he said he was in supply, and heck who would lie about that? Actually for the first hour it was just the six of us and that officer was doing all the talking. I might of joined in, but he never gave anyone an opening, and after a while I sort of let my mind wander with his voice fading into background noise. Then a Vietnam vet walked in and sat down. I could tell right away he was a Marine. He has the Death Before Dishonor tattoo on his forearm, and he had a flat top haircut. I really didn't want to hear his war stories, so I tried to continue to drift off. I was all relaxed. I had gone through my routine, and I could no longer feel my body from the waist down. I was working on getting my back muscles to disappear from my mind when I heard the words, "Rock Pile." That late coming Marine was telling that Colonel about being medivaced from the Rock Pile to Dong Ha after his leg got blown off. I was sitting there all relaxed and looked over at him, and he had his pant leg rolled up and was showing, what he called his fake leg. Then I felt guilty. I saw this guy with his gung ho tattoo, and thought he would be some blow hard that wanted to swap stories, and he was telling everything that happened to him in such graphic detail, with tears in his eyes, and a voice kind of like Tommy Lee Jones. I didn't say anything, but it only took seconds and my whole body was tense, and I was sweating, and thinking all sorts of evil bad thoughts that I have tried to keep in the back of my mind for years. Then I was pissed. How could another guy's story set me off like that. I had been through all those VA self help groups for years. I was better now. I could even watch part of Saving Private Ryan without getting sick, and Wham! A few words about where I had been in the Nam, and everything came rushing back in a split second. I started back with my relaxation techniques, and I couldn't even get my foot to relax. I started doing the deep breathing exercises, and that seemed to calm me down. I just hate it when this happens, and I was embarrassed as hell, but nobody even noticed. But, I embarrassed myself for not being in better control of my mind and body. I used to dread going to the VA, because I would always be reminded of things I saw and did. I saw a guy with out a leg, right after he lost it. I saw bodies with out legs, some without heads, and those are thoughts you want to put away, and I thought I had. I did get back to normal, but that experience in that waiting room reminded me that there are some things you can never get out of your head. I know for the next few weeks I'll have what the VA call "intrusive thoughts," jumping to the front of my mind, and I'll have to work hard to get them put away again. Then I think, for how long? Something will set them free again, and the problem for me is I never know what to avoid. Maybe I can't avoid them coming back. The doctors at the VA used to tell me that I should put these thoughts and memories away in a place where I could take them out when ever I wanted, and put them away again. Well, those doctors have do idea of what is going on in my head or any combat veteran's head. I don't ever want to take these thoughts and memories out and look at them. I want them gone, but they are not going away. Maybe that Marine gets something out of talking about his trauma, and good for him if he does. I think next appointment I'll wear some sort of music earphone, and get there right at appointment time. |
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