If I would have known that I would have to face this rigamarole, I wouldn't have ever enlisted into the Marines.
I enlisted into the Marines in the hopes of making a difference, but instead of glory and/or a hero's welcome, all I seem to get are blank stares, symapathetic shakes of peoples' heads, or the runaround in dealing with the beaurocrats at the VA (Veteran's Administration).
I am suire there are good hospitals or good doctors within the VA network, but as for me, all I seem to get are the crackpots or people who don't know what in the fuck they are doing. It seems that every time I go to the clinic, I see a different doctor who doesn't know a fig about my injuries encurred in battle, or they refuse to fill my order of pain meds, so I can have at least some blessed relief from this awful intractable pain.
Pain. That's all I ever seem to think about, twenty-four/seven. My leg was blown off in a bomb blast, and I suffered catastrophic injuries to my lower half. I wear a bag on my stomach in order to collect waste; there was just too much damage to my colon. In addition to that, I have shrapnel imbedded in my stomach, my hips, and my remaining leg. I am a living, walking medical nightmare.
I walk on a pair of crutches. I would try to wear my prosthetic leg, so I can ditch the crutches, but all the prosthetics do is rub on my stump and cause more problems and/or ongoing infections. So I hobble around on my crutches. I have a prosthetic leg, but to me, it's just a waste of my time!
I should be getting 100% disability pay. Instead, the stupid idjits at the VA have me listed at 30%. Are you KIDDING me??? Then people wonder why I want nothing more than to blow my goddamn brains out, especially on days where I have to deal with the stupid government!!
It's madness, I tell ya: it's sheer madness!!!!