Validation

I can see why it's hard to understand why Sgt. K doesn't work. He can walk without his cane, although with a limp. He looks fine.

For one, driving scares the shit out of him. He has what's called intrusive memories, which means about once a day his mind runs through what happened the night he was wounded. He becomes really sad, upset, and sometimes angry. All of this might not be a problem if he had a supportive employer, someplace that would give him the time a space to ease into his job gradually.

The way civilians treat my husband has been a bigger source of stress than anything he experienced in either Iraq or Afghanistan. Sgt. K could have gotten his former job back under USERRA. He did so when he came back from Iraq.  Shortly after he returned, his now ex-boss asked him, "So, you're not going to come in here with an M-16 and kill everyone are you?" Not a supportive environment for someone with PTSD.

Sgt. K's first disability check came in the mail this week. It only took about eight months. When he called to let me know, it was one of those moments where I realized how cliches were cliches. I breathed a sigh of relief. If I saw Sgt. K's caseworker, I would have kissed her.

I was relieved knowing we wouldn't have to obsess about every penny we spent. We've been living off just my library paycheck, which isn't exactly huge. But I also felt validated. Somebody was saying that it was OK that Sgt. K couldn't just jump back into civilian life like nothing happened. The actual paperwork says something along the lines of, "gainful employment" is not "feasible or advisable."

I'm not going to lie, receiving a check every month is nice. But it's not about the money, it's the message it sends: "Hey, we understand your husband went through a traumatic experience. He needs time and help readjusting, and there's nothing wrong with that."

You might want to bookmark this because it is probably the last nice thing I will say about the VA in this blog.