I should have gotten that coffee

If you are just joining my journey, you may want to go back and read my previous post. 

Ry was released from the ER and was sent back to his barracks to prepare to leave for MENTIS, the neurological rehab facility, the next day. The plan was to have dinner together that night, but after such a long and emotional day, Ry just wanted to go back to the barracks and sleep. Our dinner plans changed but I completely understood. As I was getting in my rental car to leave for the Fisher House, I was greeted by a young sergeant. I could tell that this man was filled with compassion for Ryley.

 Although he believed Ryley to be mentally ill, he was kind and genuinely cared about my son. When speaking with him, I was able to bring him up to speed as to what was actually going on with Ry. He was surprised and could not believe it wasn’t documented in his file at the WTB. He then went on to describe Ryley’s living situation and the struggle they had had with him the past few weeks. Ryley had been trying to maneuver through all the rigid structure of the army, with a TBI, and with no help from his leadership. My heart ached; the army dropped the ball with my son. He was not being treated for his injury but was being treated for the mental illness and seizure disorder, therefore, he was not being cared for correctly. It was shameful, to say the least. This sergeant was sincerely apologetic and wanted the best for Ry. The soldiers concern played a high note for such a low day.

It was one emotional first day. Leaving Ryley was hard but I knew he was safe now.  I went back to the Fisher House, ate a cup of soup and called Joe to share my day with him. We prayed together, said good night and I cried myself to sleep.

The next day I met up with Ryley and his sergeant to take a tour of Mentis. We all rode together to the facility. It was an old building and seemed run down. Half of the building was dedicated assisted living and the other half the rehab facility. When we walked in it smelled musky and looked very outdated. My first thought was, “This can’t be it”. We met with the administrator, who was amazing. He had a genuine heart for our wounded warriors and showed much compassion. Okay, it was getting better. He then gave us a piece of paper with the different types of symptoms for head traumas. As the sergeant and I read the long list we were amazed, Ry had every single one of them. The sergeant couldn’t believe that the WTB didn’t have a list like this for him and other leaders, so he took a few extra copies to give to those who oversaw the wounded warriors and the barracks. We then all toured the building.

“What a dive!” was all I could think. One of the ladies from the office must have been able to read my expression, because she came over to me to assure me the building was old but the treatment was modern. I sat down feeling overwhelmed and a little bit sick. I silently prayed “Any day now God, You can swoop in and make it all better”. The administrator assistant continued to try to reassure me that this was best for Ryley but I wasn’t convinced. What was best for Ry was for him to come home and be treated near his family, but we still had no word on this situation. Trust me though, I didn’t drop it. I was a thorn in the side of the army base and they would soon be anxious to be rid of me.  

We finished the tour and then went to Starbucks. Ryley promised his sergeant a Java Chip and he wanted one as well. I declined, if anybody knows me they know I don’t say no to coffee, so when I do, it’s serious.

We went back to the WTB.  Ry was squirrely and anxious from the days excitement, so we sat in the parking lot at the barracks chatting about the day. He then began to ask his sergeant question on how to deal with certain memories. Memories that no mother wants her child to have; recalling the war with a wounded brain and PTSD is a toxic combination.

Just when we thought things were calming down, the storm was stirred again. This time it wasn’t a seizure or erratic behavior, this mood brought out the incredible hulk. The rage and heartache that came thundering out of him made me want to gather him up and hold him as tightly as possible. Unfortunately Ryley’s frame of mind was inconsolable. We all had to stand back as he boiled with rage, screaming at the top of his lungs and then weep from the deepest part of his being. As I watched my son slam his fist into a metal sign over and over again, all of his superiors just stood back and let him rage. They were accustomed to soldiers coming back with this type of anger and heartbreak. However, I was not accustomed to seeing my son in such torment. I tried with all my might to hold the tears in as I stood by helplessly. The young men watched as I attempted bravery. They were concerned and were trying to comfort me. I wanted none of it. I just wanted God to reach down from heaven and stop it all. Tears ran down my face in hot streams and all the will power in the world couldn’t stop them.

I felt like I was in a dream and it was somebody else’s life I was living. One of the sergeants came by and asked if I was going to be alright. “Peachy!” I said with sarcasm. He assured me that it was good for Ry to get this junk out of him. This was the same young man who also related with Ryley as he shared his war stories. Ryley calmed down and slumped by the sign he had been beating and continued to weep. We all stood watch and waited for the right time to approach him. The storm passed for now and the other soldiers rallied around Ryley, helped him up and kept the conversation light. They asked how his hand was, if he needed something to drink. They tried anything to distract him…anything to help him not think about the pain.

We found ourselves at the emergency room again. Ry had broken a few knuckles with is fight with the sign. After some x-rays, we had a few hours of waiting to do (I should’ve had that coffee). They wrapped his had and we were sent on our way. He was calm for now. We had dinner together and went back to the Fisher house to watch a little TV. It was quiet at the house. We hung out for a little while and played a few games on the iPad, which was a great distraction from the heavy day. I then drove him back to the WTB. Tomorrow he would check into Mentis. Oh how I wanted to just keep him with me and protect him, to make it all better. How I longed for the days when ear aches and high fevers were the biggies that had us walking the halls. When first days of school and letting them drive for the first time alone was the process of learning to let go.

The reality of it all sunk in deep and quick. The army was going to decide his care and I would soon find out their decision on his transfer to Washington. But let me say this: Parents are often left out of their wounded warriors care. Invade it anyway. Do not let a “NO” stop you from pounding on the door and making some noise. My fist was getting ready for some door pounding, and Captains and Generals were going to listen. I made sure of it.

 God didn’t make all this go away; He gave me courage to charge forward. He didn’t snap his fingers and end the pain; He gave me peace in the midst of it. When I was feeling lonely and frightened in this new territory, He sent friends to bear it with me. I would soon meet two other mothers who related to the fear, sleepless nights and worry. I would connect with families who were fighting for their children and their healing. It would be the first time since Cody and Ryley enlisted, that I didn’t feel alone as a mom. And it would be the first time somebody understood the journey.