My Walk Down Memory Lane…

Have you ever heard the phrase, “what a difference a day makes?” Well, I have a new take on that one…”what a difference a year makes.”

If you are a Facebook user, you might be familiar with the “On this Day” feature, or Timehop, where some of your memories from various events or moments you’ve shared on Facebook come up. Some of the memories might be really great, and some of the memories might be really bad.

Lately, the memories that I’ve had on Facebook are precious and joyous. They are memories of Sam being paired with his blessing, Memphis.

Sam entered a three-week trauma resiliency program last year that incorporated Memphis (and other service dogs) that are trained for anxiety alerts and nightmare interruption aids…in addition to specific alerts for Sam. Some Veterans return home with physical injuries, some with injuries less easy to see, and some with the most difficult invisible wounds of war–PTSD, TBI, moral injury. The program helps Veterans understand their PTSD symptoms, and also help them manage their PTSD symptoms.

After a difficult family vacation to St. Louis for the Fourth of July, Sam and I had serious conversations about his trauma. We thought going to see fireworks with family friends (another Veteran and his family) would be a happy celebration. I think we were in Forest Park with everyone in the Metro East area (and surrounding areas). The crowds, the noise, the people swarming in to see fireworks was just too much. We were separated from Sam during our mass exit from the park, and it was completely frightening. Sam became a totally different person, one who became very quiet, one who became distant, and one who had a mission: get out of the crowd. He had to save himself, he had to find an escape. He knew exactly where the car was parked, and that’s where he went (or at the time, I hoped he went to the car). I was left with a sleeping child and one who was not thrilled about the crowd herself. Not to mention blankets, chairs, and all of our other belongings.

I was scared.

This was an eye-opening experience of how damaging the trauma Sam has endured has been. Daily triggers, anxiety, anger, frustration, depression…all of that built up due to some fireworks. The noise, the boom, has been described by Sam as “being back in Baghdad.”

That’s heartbreaking.

And the reason he endured it so much was because of family.

This Able Veteran’s PTSD service dogs are life changing. The dogs are trained to help their Veteran in various situations: refocusing on something positive, a soothing behavior, and assisting in a variety of environments–home, work, vacation, travel…

Life changing.

Things were very different for us a year ago. At times, going out in public was crippling for Sam. The uneasiness of being in public was too much. He endured it because he wanted people around him to be comfortable. He carried a coin that he would keep in his pocket and fidget with if he was anxious. At times there were imprints of the coin (challenge coins from the military) in his hands, on my hands, or even on his legs (through pants pockets, or simply pushing it down on his leg).

Too many people in a small area was just too much. If we were in a crowded space we simply tried to get out, go to the back, or distance ourselves from people. It wasn’t that we didn’t want to talk to people, but it was just overwhelming. Crowds triggered anxiety. Loud noises: something falling off a shelf, a loud noise from a toy in the house, a car backfiring–those could startle Sam. He could even be on edge just from a day at work, or a drive in his truck (traffic, or people following too closely).

Missing war, missing battle buddies, nightmares–movies about certain war campaigns, those thoughts, intrusive memories are always there. And then comes fear, isolation, depression and thoughts that well…life simply isn’t worth living anymore.

Sam needed more help than I could give, than the VA could give through therapy, and he wanted to change. Change is scary. Change is hard. But this change was going to be for the better. And after a lot of conversation, prayer, and reading (TAV’s website) he downloaded an application and filled it out.

After the application was filled out there was a waiting period. We decided not to say much to our family and friends just in case there was a possibility that Sam may not be accepted to the 2016 class. We hoped, prayed, and wished as much as anyone could for a blessing…and one night Sam got the phone call that changed his life.

Sam was about to regain control of his life. He was going to have a rough three weeks. Not because he would be in training and away from home, but because he was going to have to relive some of his trauma and talk about intrusive thoughts, anger, fear, insomnia and war. It was a challenge. At one point he figured that it would take 2.8 years of one-week therapy to do what the Veterans in the three-week class would do. That is intense.

Indeed, what a difference a year makes…

I’ve never witnessed so much joy, love, and happiness as I have in the times that Sam has had with Memphis.

Our family can enjoy some activities that we would normally avoid or sidestep–Sam took Caden (and Memphis) to an arcade and even though it was crowded, a lot of kids tried to get to Memphis, and it was overwhelming, they had one another, and they had a nice “boy’s day out.”

Sam is calm–PTSD never goes away, but he has techniques that help him calm down, control his breathing, and remind him that things are going to be okay.

Sleep is still hard to come by, but it is easier with Memphis right beside Sam.

Traveling is a little different than it use to be, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sam is working on being the person he was before he went to war.

We have so many photos of this journey, it is hard to share just a few…these are some of my favorites. <3