March 19: Against the Irag War Blogswarm

When I was a teenager, my mother worked as a Registered Nurse for the VA Hospital in Menlo Park, CA.  My mother started her career in at the VA in their addiction unit.  It was an 18-month in patient program for vets to get them to get them clean and then stay off drugs and alcohol.  There was limited space in the program.  And always more people who needed help than beds to give help. 

After a couple of years, my mom was transferred to the psychiatric ward at the hospital. The program she was involved in was specific to veterans with PTSD.  And most of them were from Desert Storm.  She would tell tragic stories when she got home.  Stories of women being raped, of soldiers being subjected to mustard gas, of terrible sand storms and uncertainty. My mother would have a hard time falling to sleep when she arrived home after her shift.  It was nearly impossible to leave the work hospital.  It was as if she shouldered the burden of these experiences. 

I think my mother was relieved to leave when budgets were hit in the late 90s and VA nurses were laid off.  After 5 years of working for the VA, my mother was physically and emotionally spent.  She won’t ever admit that leaving was best.  I know that it was hard to walk away from the veterans.  They all needed more time to heal.  More resources to help them.  A means to a better life. 

I was a naïve teenager when my mother left the VA for work in public health.  I certainly didn’t understand the war, the aftermath, the loss, the grief, the pain.  I remember once my mother talking in hushed tones with my stepfather about how glad she was my brother was practically blind without his glasses.  It meant that he’d never have to serve on the front lines.  I didn’t get what she meant then. 

As a mother to a boy, I understand much more now.  My son is many, many years away from being of age to serve in the military.  But with the current administration and the Republican nominee trying to get elected, it seems as if there would be no end to this war. 

It's time for the war to end.  It's time for our soldiers to come home.

After seeing my mother work with veterans for those five years, I now understand all too well that the war doesn't end when the soldiers come home.  We have a lifetime of pain, nightmares, and trauma that will play out in the hearts, minds, and bodies of our veterans.

Still, it's time for healing to begin.

Join your fellow bloggers by writing out against the Iraq War at http://march19-blogswarm.blogspot.com/

Comments

[RickB]

Great post, thanks for taking part.

[LifeAsIKnowIt]

So true.
Excellent post.
Your mother did great work doing what she did.