In February 2007 my life changed forever when my vehicle struck a roadside bomb in Iraq. I was thrown from my vehicle but not before catching on fire. The men in my unit reacted quickly to save my life and called in the helicopter to get me. I remember flying to be evacuated out to the nearest medical facility thinking I’m safe now. What I didn’t think about was the road to recovery.

I was sent to Brooke Army Medical Center (BAMC) in San Antonio, Texas which is a top rated burn hospital. I was placed into ICU for 85% burns, double hand amputation, lung damage, vision loss, and kidney issues. I was heavily medicated and my memory for the next 4 months is very limited. Then I started to realize where I was, what had happened, and the extent of my injuries. It was a lot to take in all at one time and in my mind I wasn’t any different. Then I tried to get up by my self and the blunt realization hit me, I am hurt.

Everyday my Physical Therapist would come in and stretch me. The problem was after lying in the hospital bed for so long I stiffened up and had trouble with my range of motion. After stretching, it was time to go for a walk, but due to the burns I had muscle damage which made it hard to stand. We started off slow by just standing up, then worked walking to the door, and finally out of the room. It was very difficult and at times I just felt like giving up. I had trouble breathing, my muscles hurt, I was tired, and every other excuse I could think of why I shouldn’t have to do it. They continued to push me and I could see it was just emotional for them as it was for me. On days where I took a turn for the worse, had a bad workout, or was overly depressed it affected them just as much. I have a lot of respect for the Physical Therapists who work in high stress areas. My relationship with my therapists grew into a friendship I hold dear to my heart.

Finally after 6 months they moved me down to the Burn Ward. Instead of the Physical Therapists coming to my room, I was able to go to the small gym to do my stretches. I would still walk the halls but started to slip into a depression again. I walked the same route everyday and just felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere. Often times I would give up and just ask for the wheelchair. My health wasn’t good enough to be released and there wasn’t anything to strive for. In November of 2007 my unit was returning to NY and I really wanted to go. I worked out a deal to be released for 3 days to attend the Welcome Home Ceremony. I started walking harder, further, and pushed my self to prove I could do it even though I still needed the wheelchair most of the time.

In order to go to Fort Drum, NY to the Welcome Home Ceremony a few of my needs had to be met. First was who was going to take care of me. My Mother acted as my first line caregiver and had to practice doing my wound care before going. Second I had to have around the clock Doctor and Nurse supervision which was taken care of by a team sent by the 10th Mountain Infantry Division. Last was how was I going to get there since I couldn’t fly commercially. Veterans Airlift Command a non profit support organization donated a private jet and crew to fly me to NY and back.

We flew right into the Fort Drum airstrip where members of my old unit lined up outside the airplane. I remember how cold it was and how they all tried to block the cold November wind from hitting me while I was loading into the van. We went to the hotel and crammed about 30 guys into my room. We sat there and visited for 2 hours, but it was getting late so we called it a night. The next morning several of us went out to breakfast and were almost late for the ceremony after losing track of time talking. The auditorium was packed full of family and friends and they rolled me straight across the center of the room. I could see everyone looking at me and I didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. I sat there in my wheelchair and enjoyed watching my fellow Brothers and Sisters being welcomed home. After the ceremony there was a huge line of people to greet me one by one. So many emotions ran through during the next couple of hours while I talked to each one of them. That night a small group of close friends gather in a banquet room to visit. It was so great to have my friends around me all at the same time. The time flew by once again and before I knew it I was back at the hotel. The next morning I was met by a few of my younger soldiers to take me back to the airplane. As I flew home I had regained my motivation and will to exceed. To this day I still owe many thanks to everyone who helped make it possible.

After my discharge I felt like the world was mine. I was able to go to movies, go out to eat, and visit with friends. The problem was I had all these things at my finger tips but didn’t feel like I was doing it my self due to the wheelchair. So I would walk circles through my house to practice and if I got tired I would just sit down. I still went to Physical Therapy Monday through Friday on top of my own workouts. Then I bought a house with stairs so I now had to practice that too. A year went by and walking was no longer a challenge so I started jogging. They were short sprints that I called jogging. I kept at it for about 3 months until I was able to do 2 miles non-stop.

It has been 2 ½ years since my injury and I still consider my self in the recovery phase. I put a home gym in my house consisting of an elliptical trainer, recumbent bike, and a weight lifting gym. I have a workout routine that is 6 days a week that is designed to help build strength and stamina. After a life changing injury I don’t know when the recovery stage stops, but for me there is always something to improve on. Setting goals to strive for has always been important to me. I try to keep 3 short term and 3 long term goals at all times. Right now my short term goals are to continue to work on my energy level by working out, giving back to other wounded veterans such as peer support, and become more functional on daily living activities. My long term goals are finish all necessary surgeries, become fully independent, and reenter the work force. These goals are great to help with the recovery process, but the best thing that happened to me was being released from the hospital and realizing you have to put in the time and effort in order to enjoy life.