This patient population is a dream clientele. They are pre-selected, by temperament, choice, and training, to be hardworking, compliant, and respectful. They don’t complain. They are determined to get on with their lives, whether that means returning to their posts or moving on. These qualities, along with the fact that they were willing to sacrifice for our freedom, makes it an honor to work with them.
The sailor who was injured on his Harley was telling a comrade that the main problem he’d have getting back on his ship is pain management, because no one can be on narcotic pain meds while serving. But he said that, from his commander to his therapist, everyone was willing to facilitate his return to duty, and that seems to be his goal.
A soldier, who lost his right leg below the knee and had severe fractures with external fixation on the left leg, had been an Army corpsman, or medic. As for returning to duty, he told me he was “closing that chapter.” He just signed up for classes through the GI Bill to start working towards a psychology degree, because he likes to talk and listen to people and wants to “help people who have been through what I’ve been through.”
Another young man, “Benton,” is from Belize but was injured serving in the American military. He has an above knee amputation on the left and a large area of skin grafting on his right foot. For him, as for many with IED injuries, the rehab for the salvaged leg will be more complex and long-term than the adjustment to the prosthesis. Still, it is usually more functional and less energy-consuming to walk with a rehabilitated, intact limb than with a prosthesis, so that's why they work so hard to save them.
Benton charmed with his quiet manner, wide smile, and mischevious humor. He had been a teacher, working with children from first to eighth grades, before joining the service. He is also very determined. When he had only done a couple of days of walking in the parallel bars with his new leg, he really, really wanted to take it with him overnight (most of the clients live in rooms in another building on the base during their rehab). He managed to cajole his therapist to allow this, insisting that he wouldn’t wear it for too long and would be careful to note any pressure areas on his skin. He left the PT department that day with his prosthetic limb tucked beside him in his wheelchair, the above-knee socket draped over his shoulder and a big smile on his face.
At one point when I told Benton what I was hoping to do in Haiti, he responded in his quiet Caribbean lilt, “You’ll do it. I can see it in your face.” Imagine, this young man encouraging me! Benton, you’ll do it too, whatever it is. I can see it in your heart.
