Tag Archives: Veteran

Latest column in the North County Times

Posted by Mike Grice on

Here is my latest column in the North County Times:

No one immune to PTSD

 

Never in our history has the military establishment or the nation been as forthcoming or accepting of combat stress injuries. There are programs everywhere to help those who suffer from the effects of prolonged combat. The Veterans Administration offers everything from individual counseling to residential treatment for those who have left the military, and active-duty personnel are afforded the opportunity to seek treatment without effect to their careers.

Well, officially anyway.

I recognized that I had PTSD after my third combat tour. I had just returned from Afghanistan, and with a roomful of Marines I sat down for a post-deployment briefing that was pretty much identical to the ones I had attended after my two trips to Iraq.

A parade of briefers that ranged from concerned professionals to bored bureaucrats passed before us, flinging a blizzard of papers for us to read, initial, fill out, and sign. We sat behind computer terminals to see if we experienced any traumatic brain injuries, listened to how important it was to be patient with our wives and girlfriends and kids, and not to go out and get rip roaring drunk on our first night home.

Somewhere between the brain test and the drinking-and-driving lecture, a sheaf of papers was handed around for all of us to complete. Not thinking too much about it, I grabbed my pencil and started filling in the little bubbles by the questions.

“Do you have problems sleeping?”

“Are you more irritable now than before you deployed?”

“Do you have problems remembering things?”

“Do you feel unable to relax?”

The questions covered the page. I marked the little bubbles one after the other, and when I was done I looked it over and dropped my pencil in shock. It wasn’t the first time that I had seen a form like this; in fact, I filled one out after every deployment. The difference this time was that I had a whole lot more questions marked “Yes” than there had been previously. Not just one or two or three questions. I said yes to more than half of them.

My reaction was, “Holy mackerel! I can’t possibly have PTSD —- only burned out losers have PTSD. Not me! No way!”

I walked up to the guy who handed out the forms and turned it in. He looked at it, looked at me, and asked me if I wanted to go see anybody.

That was it. I could say no and get on with my life. That, to be honest, is the course that the vast majority of military folks take. At that moment, that timeless span of a few seconds, thoughts rocketed through my mind. What will people say? Do I really need help? Is there something wrong with me? Only losers have PTSD, don’t they?

So I chose not to choose, but I did ask the guy for more information. He shrugged and handed me a brochure for an on-base facility that offered assessment and treatment with no questions asked. I looked it over, folded it up, and went on my way.

Moving on was not as simple as shoving the brochure in my pocket, however. I really started to view myself through a different lens; I paid attention to myself. I really couldn’t remember things even though my mind had formerly been sharp. I was short-tempered, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t relax. I came to the stark realization that I had changed, and not in a good way.

So I made a choice. I pulled the crumpled pamphlet out of my pocked and read through it. Not just another cursory once over as I had done before, but I really studied it. It promised an opportunity to be evaluated by a staff of professionals whose only purpose was to help Marines like me. All I had to do was make a call.

So I did. More on that in my next column.

PTSD and Me, from the North County Times

Posted by Mike Grice on

Here is my latest column in the North County Times- a bit more on my personal experiences with PTSD:

Life “outside the wire” in a combat unit is the pinnacle of stress and a morass of boredom, with every minute lasting an hour and every hour lasting an eternity as you wait for the crack of an AK-47 and the snap of a passing 7.62 millimeter bullet. It is a way of life unlike any other, and to live through it changes your life forever.

I served four tours in two wars in five short years. Iraq was more kinetic —- which is the military word for people doing their best to kill each other with guns and bombs and such —- while Afghanistan was less personally violent.

My teams and I logged well over 200 missions “outside the wire.”

Most missions were accomplished without getting shot at or shooting back, but enough weren’t to keep us on our toes. We never really knew which trip into enemy territory would be our last, and collectively our minds shifted into overdrive as we departed the relative safety of the forward operating base or combat outpost for insurgent territory.

Being in combat consumes you. You become completely focused on the now. Thoughts of home and family are pushed completely from your mind as you look in a hundred directions at once: Is that an IED or just a pile of trash? Where would a sniper hide? Are those kids just playing, or are they lookouts for an insurgent ambush? Where are my teammates? Is that a tripwire? Does that man in the distance have a shovel or a rifle? Is he digging in an IED or fixing a broken pipe?

You are completely immersed in what is happening at the moment. You are consumed by your mission and completely focused on what is happening around you because you are never more than a split second away from the absolute chaos of a firefight or IED attack. You are always looking for cover, for something to dive behind when the bullets start flying. You become attuned completely to the environment and as one with your teammates.

That level of intense and singular focus is crucial to survive in combat. It is also impossible to seamlessly turn off when you come home.

I know because that describes me. PTSD takes many forms, and the inability to turn it off is mine.

I developed hypervigilance, which means that I have essentially developed adult-onset ADHD. I can’t sit still or relax without feeling pensive and anxious. I am compelled to be in motion in spite of myself.

I can’t sleep. I have not had a full night’s uninterrupted rest since 2005 —- well, not at home. I sleep fine in Afghanistan and Iraq, but not in San Diego. I snap wide awake every few hours, and if I am lucky, I can get back to sleep. I’m not often lucky.

I can’t remember anything. I have misplaced my short-term memory; I must write every task down as soon as I learn of it or I will forget. It drives my wife to distraction when I can’t remember what I went to the store for, or why I am standing in front of the pantry with a blank look on my face.

I can’t forget many of the events I experienced in combat, despite how much I wish I could. Every day I find my mind wandering back to firefights and attacks and blood and death, even though such things are the last thing I want to think about. Memories abound in my subconscious and they bubble to the surface unannounced, reminding me daily that I have killed for my country and come frighteningly close to dying for it.

PTSD is always with me as I move through my post-war life.

It is not hopeless, however, because there is help out there for those who seek it. More on that in my next column.

 

Read more: http://www.nctimes.com/news/local/military/columnists/grice/grice-ptsd-is-personal-for-combat-vets/article_37b56010-dca2-5463-9a2b-51f1f31f9b43.html#ixzz1rwXtaaA5

Getting the band back together

Posted by Mike Grice on

Thursdays come and go once a week, so generally speaking they aren’t particularly significant.  Compared to Friday. which is everybody’s favorite weekday it doesn’t amount to much.  Pretty much everyone agrees that Thursday is better than Monday, but it can’t hold a candle to Saturday or Sunday.  Nope, Thursday is pretty much just an average day in the grand scheme of things.

Except for this past Thursday.  Last Thursday, March 1st, marked the 61st anniversary of the birth of the Marine Corps unit that I served in during three tours to combat.  On March 1st 1951 the 1st Air Naval Gunfire Liaison Company unfurled its flag on its way to fight in the hills of Korea.  Since that time ANGLICO Marines and Sailors have deployed across the globe and fought in places like Beirut, Vietnam, the Dominican Republic, Kuwait, Somalia, Iraq, and Afghanistan.  They stood on the frontiers of American interests during the cold war and set the unequalled standard for professionalism and skill in the realm of fire support (employing things like mortars, artillery, naval gunfire, attack helicopters and jets) and communications (with the capability to talk via radio to pretty much anyone, anywhere, and at any time).

So this past Thursday, March 1st, was special because it was the 61st birthday of such a fantastic organization.  It was even more distinguished, however, because the Commanding Officer, Marines, and Sailors who currently serve in 1st ANGLICO threw a little birthday party and they invited any and all veterans of 1st ANGLICO to come on down to Camp Pendleton and share in the big day.  And come we did- from those of us just down the road in San Diego to others who traveled thousands of miles across the country to share in the big day.  All told there were nearly 50 veterans and their wives in attendance, with veterans who were with the company when it was brand spankin’ new and headed for Korea to those of us who just left last year.

And what a day it was!  The Marines and Sailors of the company set up a series of briefings and displays to show how the unit operates as it enters its seventh decade of existence.  We saw the newest equipment and were briefed on the latest combat techniques, and it was truly impressive to see such a great bunch of Marines and Sailors so proudly share their trade with the older generation.  Before lunch in the most excellent new chowhall on Camp Las Flores (which is the home of 1st ANGLICO) there was a brief but impressive ceremony where a birthday cake was cut and the eldest ANGLICO veteran shared the first slices with the commanding officer.  The vets were then honored to be present as a half dozen or so Marines were promoted to the next higher rank; the Marine Corps promotes their best and brightest at the beginning of the month, so we were fortunate to be able to attend such a significant event in the lives of these young and motivated warriors.

Then, off to lunch.  For me it was a tremendously rewarding experience because I was able to break bread (or in my case, a turkey Panini sandwich) with brother Marines that I had served with during my last tour.  Now that I am retired I am no longer Lieutenant Colonel Grice (even though my retired ID card says so), but instead the exalted rank of Marine, which all of us who served proudly share.  We are all now brothers unseparated by rank and position, and it was a great time to have lunch with brothers Barnette, Fortson, and Brantley.  We talked about life, deployment, chow, and everything else, and it was a great time.  With men such as these keeping the wolf from the door our nation has nothing to fear.

The afternoon was spent observing the newest training technologies, which was interesting.  For me, it was more thrilling to meet and talk to the veterans of ANGLICO who had served in so many far flung places and had cemented the legacy of the unit into the story of the Marine Corps.  I finally met Vance and Tom, who had served in Vietnam and were simply the most amazing supporters of deployed ANGLICO units as they led care package drives that sent us literally hundreds of boxes from home as we served overseas.  I met Buzz and John and Walt and Joe and countless other vets, and it was truly my privilege and honor to be counted as one of their ranks.  To be with them was to walk in the shadow of giants, and it was truly a thrilling honor just to be around them.

We had cocktails at the old Officer’s Club later that evening, and I was able to chat with another John, with whom I had served in Iraq as well as with a half dozen Marines with whom I had served during my last deployment to Afghanistan.  There were over a hundred people packed into the bar that evening, and the mixture of camoflage uniforms and retiree’s ballcaps was impressive to witness.  Veterans who fought a half century ago traded tips with Marines who were yet thirty years unborn when Korea was hot, and regardless of age or war the connection was genuinely made.  It eclipses nostalgia and enters the realm of true brotherhood, and I was incredibly fortunate to be a part of it all.

So my hat is off to the Commanding Officer, Marines, and Sailors of 1st ANGLICO for putting on such a marvelous event.  I thank you on behalf of all of us who served, and to all who attended, it was simply magnificent to meet you.  It is times like this that wash away the pain, the anguish, and the anxiety that comes with serving the hard master that is the Marine Corps in time of war.  It is times like this that that rejuvenate the soul and remind you that, after all, no matter what you did or where you served, it was all worth it.

For that all to brief moment in time the cross generational band that is 1st ANGLICO got back together, and it was a sight to behold.  To all members of 1st ANGLICO past and present, I say congratulations on your 61st Birthday and Semper Fidelis!

 

Final Physical Exam….or not. Welcome to the VA!

Posted by Mike Grice on

My last post was about the Veterans Administration, and not long before that I wrote a string of posts about what I thought were my last and final physical examinations.  Oddly, I soon found out that the VA and physical examinations are inextricably linked.

Just like peanut butter goes with chocolate and peas like carrots the Veterans Administration and physical examinations go together too.  It turns out that I was right about my Final Physical Examination being the last one that I would go through in uniform, but what I didn’t realize was that it would be immediately followed by my first physical examination by the VA.

The VA, among a host of other things, is responsible for determining whether or not you are eligible for a disability rating (and compensation) for any injuries or conditions that you suffer as a result of your service.  The military’s final physical is just your last checkup on the way out the door; the VA physical is your first checkup on the way into civilian life.  In addition to finding out if you are disabled in any way the VA makes sure that you don’t have any conditions that require additional treatment once you take off the uniform.

There are plenty of examples of both disability related conditions and continuing treatment requirements; for example a disability may range from losing a limb or an eye in combat to tinnitus caused by the roar and whine of aircraft engines, while physical therapy to help recover from knee surgery is a case in point for continued medical treatment.  At any rate, the VA is responsible for caring for the veteran, and in order to determine what type of care a vet requires they need to have their doctors take a look under the hood (or hospital gown, as it were).

As my active duty days drew to a close I had finished all of my required checkups and paperwork to head out to the civilian world.  On my last day in uniform I received my official orders back to my civilian life, and with a handshake and a “see ya later” I set out on terminal leave and prepared for life back on civvy street.  One of my first stops (after recovering from the retirement party hangover) was to the VA office, where I dropped off my DD-214 (the most important document for a veteran – it is your key to benefits and it is the official proof that you served in the military) and began the process of becoming a “customer” of the VA.

Along with my DD-214 I handed over a copy of my medical record (make sure to make an extra copy- this is VERY important, because you turn the original in when you check out on your last day in uniform, and the VA needs a copy to evaluate you for a disability rating and other medical concerns), and the nice lady in the office asked me a few questions.  She then took a quick look at my records and started making some calls.  Within a few minutes she had set me up with three appointments at a contracted medical office that the VA uses to evaluate separating veterans.  She said that I would be receiving some information in the mail, and that it was now on me to ensure that I did everything necessary to complete the evaluation process.  She also said that it could take anywhere from four months (in the best of all possible worlds) to a year or longer (which is not unusual) for my case to be evaluated and any disability rating to be issued.  If I didn’t do what I was supposed to do it could take literally forever, because although the VA is there to help veterans they are not there to hold your hand and drag you through the process.  That’s up to you.

Anyhow, I left the VA office with a few appointments and the pleasant, though pointed, reminder that it was up to me now.  In order to take advantage of all of the great medical benefits that I had earned and to see if I had a disability rating I would need to take the initiative to attend appointments without anybody besides myself reminding me.  There would be no Drill Instructors to tell me what to do next.  Welcome back to the real world.

__________

Lessons Learned:

1.  Make at least one copy (two if you can) of your complete medical and dental records.  Your separations office on base should let you use the copier to make copies, and if they don’t, you can use the copier at the career counseling center.  If you don’t want to stand over a copier for hours fighting paper jams and toner outages, you can take it out in town to a Kinko’s or other copier business- it will cost a few bucks, but time is money.  Your original record will be turned in to get your orders home, and the VA needs another copy to evaluate.  Remember this:  the VA and the DOD are separate governmental agencies and if you think that they will coordinate your transition for you then you need to take another urinalysis test.

2.  Make sure that you leave the VA office with appointments for physical evaluations.  Your claim for medical benefits will not start until the evaluations are complete, so if you blow off or forget an appointment your case will just languish on some desk somewhere until it crumbles into dust.  If you want benefits, then you need to do the legwork to make sure the process moves along.