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Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado

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Books by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
A Soldier's Homecoming: Part Two--Maria's Story (WARNING! Coarse Language)
By Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
Friday, March 05, 2004

Rated "PG13" by the Author.

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A woman injured in Iraq continues her long and painful recovery from injuries sustained when a bomb went off under the Humvee that she (and two others) were in. Maria was left blind in one eye, and she lost both legs and a hand. Her friends who were with her at the time were both killed. Maria now suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder and reaccuring pain in her stumps. She went from a happy, carefree person to a person who is understandably angry and frustrated.

A note to the reader: I NORMALLY do NOT talk like this, but I wanted to convey to you the anger and frustration Maria is feeling regarding her situation; and she is understandably bitter and frustrated. So explains for the profane language she used in her story.

Bitter. Angry. Frustrated.

Those are but a few of the words that describe how I feel nowadays as I lie here in bed at the Rehab Hospital as I undergo yet more tortuous therapy sessions.

How do you THINK I feel when I look in a mirror and see that I am scarred, am missing an eye, and am also missing a hand and both my legs? I look like HELL! And I feel WORSE! If it weren't for that goddamned bomb that went off just as we were passing over it, I would still be in the military, and I would still be in Iraq, helping my fellow soldiers! Now, because of that bomb, the two people I were with at the time are now buried underground, and I am nothing but a goddamn cripple who can't do anything for herself but lie around and feel sorry for herself!

Every day, I have to deal with people who treat me like I am some stupid infant who doesn't know a goddamned thing, and every day I have to live with ~PAIN~ as they torture my body in Therapy, willing my broken body to do things it wasn't DESIGNED to do; and I also have to visit the hospital shrink so I can talk about something I would NOT much do, thankyewverymuch! I am TIRED of dealing with what has happened; and I wish that they would leave me the FUCK alone! I am TIRED of life, and I wonder if I would be better off had I been killed too, by that bomb, along with my two buddies! But, NO..I am still here, and now I am the one who has to suffer!!

This is Maria Melendez. I am NOT doing very well, I am afraid. They just got done working me in Therapy, and I am so sore and so stiff all I want to do is DIE! I also saw my shrink earlier today, before I went to Therapy, and she did nothing to help my mood any. She says I am an angry and bitter person. Well, DUH! Wouldn't YOU be if you were in my shoes? I am now CRIPPLED for life; and now my military career is HISTORY! I go to Iraq to help my country, and I come back, a shell of my former self, and now I have to learn to live without my legs, one hand, AND one eye! I also have to learn to live with ugly scars, and whenever I look at my reflection in the mirror, I am at once hurt and angry, and I wish that I would have been killed by that bomb!

I am back home in San Antonio, Texas, but I am STILL in the hospital. I am having therapy every day, and I am SICK of dealing with doctors and nurses; and I am so sick of the food here! The food here STINKS, and I MISS my Mami's enchiladas and her frijoles! I also miss mi familia: mi madre', mi padre', mi hermanos Rueben, Miguel, Mundo, Juano, and Diego, and mi hermanas Wendy, D'Arcy, and Juanita! They been by to see me a few times; but I always feel so bad whenever I see the tears in their eyes whenever they look at me; I feel as though I have failed them, and I am wondering why I am still here, crippled and blind, when I should have been the one who died!

My stupid counselor at the mental health clinic here at Wilford Hall told me to write down my feelings in a journal; and I am sorry, but I am NOT in the MOOD to do ANY such thing!~ I am in too much pain, and do you know HOW hard it is to try to write with the hand that is your opposite of the one you USED (the hand I wrote with is GONE, and it is NOT easy trying to write left-handed when I am USED to being RIGHT-HANDED!), and do you know how HARD it is to write with one good working eye?? Well, that is how it is with me right now, and I am having a hell of a hard time trying to cope with what has happened to me. I also have had the stupid pastor from the hospital chapel come by to see me, and if there is ONE thing I do NOT need right now, it's a man in the cloth telling me that maybe this happened for a reason and that God still loves me, even with what I have had to endure these past months! If God is so good, then WHY am I in the shape I am in, and WHY do I feel so horrible all the time?? WHY would He let this happen to me; what did I ever do to Him to deserve this fate??

(*To be continued.*)

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Reviewed by Simon Thurlow 3/7/2004
I guess many people will go through this at the moment. Very good write
Reviewed by E T Waldron 3/6/2004
An excellent well composed story Karen! Very intense and painful to think of those who are in a similar condition. Yet, we need to be reminded!Thank you!
Reviewed by Sarah Tagert 3/6/2004
very powerful write
Reviewed by Michelle Kidwell Power In The Pen 3/5/2004
You portrayed the frustration of a soldier, very well...
Keep up the great work...
God Bless
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 3/5/2004

we feel the anger and frustration emitting powerfully from this heartbreaking write--very well done.

(((HUGS))) and love, karla. :)
Reviewed by Tinka Boukes 3/5/2004
Wow!! This was well written Karen!!

Thanks for helping me out on picking out!!

And the hives thingy.....God I know all about it......I suffer from it myself at times.....but lately I am okay....but about 25 years ago i had it bad......the doctors told me i had "neriodermatitis" or some bigword like sure how to spell it1! Any presure on my body like elastic..bra-straps..mad me so itchy and it goes into this bulges.....that iches like hell.....and you scratch yourself umtil it bleeds......and the more you scratch.....god its like you want to grab the flesh and break it to pieces...the doctor even suggested not having sex......even the presure and the rubbibg of our bodies was making me itchy...then one day my mom came to visit and at that time I was smoking in the quiet.....i could smoke freely because I could put the smelling blame on my mom.....and all of a sudden my itches went away.......and all because I was smoking...and I smoked for 13 years and desided to stop when I fell pregnant with Nichol......and touch wood I am okay......if I get upset I get a little itchy......but then I yell and get it out of my system and I am!!

Tell you more some other time!!

Love Tinka
Reviewed by Elaine Carey 3/5/2004
You do a good job putting yourself in the skin of this woman!

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