Monday, October 17, 2011

I'm still around!

Hey there! I just want you all to know that I'm still reading you! I don't comment a lot, but I do keep up. It's getting better around here. There's a normalcy to this. Also, Aaron might have only ONE surgery left and then we're done with it! WHOO HOO. He had his skin grafts done today and if they stick then on Friday it will be the last day he "goes under". I hate that his last procedure is so painful, but it's like going out with a "bang".

This everyday life feels pretty normal most days. I live in a hotel room, my husband in the hospital. We have food and toys and books and other things everywhere. I brush his teeth, I sign consent forms, I tell doctors it is REALLY inappropriate to come knocking at midnight to wake my husband. This. Feels. Normal.

And part of me thinks that's sad. Every once in a while, I can acknowledge that I live in a bubble. There are amputees- double- everywhere. Blindness, paralysis, those who lost legs so high they can't get prosthetics. This is awful in every possible way. Everyday, this is normal here. Med staff that rocks, some that don't, school lunchroom cartons of milk. General Delivery for mail.

It's not fucking worth it. Let me be clear: This War Is Not Fucking Worth This In Any Way, Shape, Or Form. I Will Never Feel Differently.

If anyone thinks I should feel differently, go look at your spouse's feet. Mine doesn't have any. Or knees. Go to a cemetery and remember that I am living someone's dream here. End of it.

I don't feel crazy angry or sad, though. I live in a bubble, this is my normal, and usually I'm just whistling along with our new life. I can't even imagine what I'd be doing instead- drinking wine with my battle buddies, wrapping up R&R, swamped in homework, volunteering at the USO. I'd be in that normal.

I guess it's all the same.

We're all, as military families, in a bubble. There are bubbles inside bubbles. And there's a whole America out there that has no idea. But I try to avoid those people. I suppose the upside to the bubble I'm in is that people get it. There's less stupidity in here, because everyone is suffering.

I did cry last week when *yet another idiot* reminded me how lucky I am that my husband is alive. I won't comment further on it, other than: No shit, Sherlock. No one needs to remind me of anything.

Love and miss you all. Hope you're all well.

P.S. "Ironman" just came on TV and I couldn't watch the beginning without crying. Fucking bullshit.


  1. I'm glad to hear that things are continuing to progress well for you and your husband--and by the way, I still can't watch the beginning to Iron Man without tearing up. Bullshit indeed.

  2. I am wishing you and your husband the best. I can't imagine what your going though. I thank you for keeping us aware of whats going on in your life. And how strong you have been through this.

    This war isn't worth it, it isn't worth the injuries & lives taken.. It isn't worth putting the spouses through the pain, worry and fear.

    You and your husband are so strong. I thank you a thousand times for being such a strong woman. <3

    I hope I haven't offended you in any way. I look up to spouses like you to get through the days coming up to this deployment we are about to embark on.

  3. Good for you for not letting anyone tell you how you should feel. You are more than entitled to feel whatever it is you are feeling.

    I think people on the outside don't realize military families (not just the service members) have to learn how to drive on. We suffer and suck, whether it's missed birthdays, our loved one being injured by IEDs (sometimes on multiple occasions), or even just a good friend getting shot. Every day we have to hold our breath, pray our hearts out that the sun is going to rise tomorrow. It's a job, thankless and tiring. And there isn't much time or room to take a knee, the world won't stop. So, we can't either. The time starts chipping away at us, and pieces of us crumble and break off. I think outsiders think that all you have to do is shake it off. But it's so much more.

    You have heard it a million times, and probably from me a at least a few. The determination that you guys have, and your love, is awe-inspiring. Thank you for sharing.

    (liking the blog makeover)

  4. Praying his last surgery goes well for both of your well-beings! <3

  5. Yay for seeing the end of surgery! And good for you for figuring out the new normal. The prayers continue.

  6. I think you are a very brave and strong person, and so is your husband! I hope his last surgery goes smoothly!!

  7. I'll be praying for your husband, and that the surgery is successful!

  8. Still praying for you both, I hope the last surgery is successful and there is a speedy recovery to keep trucking on! We just found out my husband's friend also lost his legs this past weekend, so we are hoping to get to Bethesda to see him. Keep the faith, keep your opinions, and keep going strong!

  9. Reading your "the war isn't worth it" comment was good to hear, because you are smart and well-informed, and I respect the hell out of your opinions. The more I see of the military in this PARTICULAR wartime, the more I agree with that statement. That's actually why I haven't been blogging recently--I'm really, really angry about the situation our military is in. For better or worse I made the decision to be informed about what my husband does every day (he's a rear-d commander right now), and not a week goes by that the unit doesn't take more injuries, and at times, KIAs. Seeing the effects of all of that--the ripples reach so far--has rather removed my desire to write frivolous posts. I don't find the Army life as funny anymore. Maybe I'll try to articulate this soon. Always praying for you and your husband.

  10. I appreciate how honest and raw your blog is. With a husband who's deployed I can truly appreciate the myriad and intensity of your emotions. Though I can't empathize with your particular situation as yet, you help me realize that if I ever am in it, which we all know is a possibility, I can manage to keep going. Sending prayers up for you.