A woman who was injured in Iraq writes to Louisiana after reading her book. She has been in and out of the veteran's hospital, recovering from her injuries, and she is lonely. She lives in Arizona.
Monday, May 23, 2005~
Dear Ma'am~
You don't know me, but I am going to write to you anyway. I hope you don't mind.
My name is Wyndi Storm Piestala (nee' Sieweyumptewa), and I am a 40-something-year-old Native American (Hopi) female, as you can probably gather from my name. I live in Arizona, in Prescott; I have lived in Arizona all my life, but I was injured in the Iraq War just last year, and it's been an incredibly difficult and painful journey for me. I lost both legs when I ran over a landmine in the Humvee I happened to be driving, and out of four people, I was the only one who managed to survive (but not without sustaining life-altering injuries that rendered me a double amputee of both legs just above the knees). Ever since then, I have been in and out of the hospital (mostly in, first in Iraq, then four months at Walter Reed, and now here in Arizona), and I have been severely depressed. The life I once knew is over, and I have been plagued with reaccurring nightmares and flashbacks.
I was married, but my husband, Kurt, died last year, right before I was injured; he died in a sniper attack not far from where we had been stationed, and I have done more than my share of crying (I am afraid that there are many more tears to come). I am now back home here in Prescott, Arizona, and I have had great difficulty adjusting to not only the death of my husband, but also the injuries that took my legs in such a horrendous way. I live on an Indian reservation, and I live with my mother, Amelie, but she is getting up in years, and her health is fading; but she still rises early every day to take care of me. My father died in Vietnam, so I really don't remember him all that much; I was just a little child back then.
I have but one daughter, Karla Jean, who is fifteen, and she has had to act like the grown up that she isn't. She has to care for not only me, but MeMaw, and her schoolwork has suffered, and she has very few friends because she is always at home, caring for MeMaw and myself. I worry about her constantly, especially since Karla has developed diabetes and is very overweight (takes after me in the weight department; LOL). But we can't really afford a doctor, so when she, MeMaw, or myself take sick, we call the local medicine man, to help us. We can't afford a real doctor, and the only reason I have been in the hospital is because of my being in the military (Marines); I was on the front lines, as an infantrywoman. But as for MeMaw or Karla, they see our local medicine man.
Now, I don't want you to take pity on us, but I AM lonely, and I AM depressed. I read your book, "And The Miracles Continue" (I didn't read your first book, "A Family Made out of Miracles And Rainbows: The Sandusky Family Story, A True Story of Love And International Adoption"), and I was intensely moved by your story. I found your story extremely uplifting and powerful, and I am glad that your God has been such a driving force in your life! Now, you stated in one of the chapters that you, yourself, are Native American Indian. What tribe do you belong to? I am just wondering. But I wanted to write, and I wanted to let you know just how much I enjoyed your (second) book. I hope you don't mind.
Well, Louisiana, I need to go; MeMaw is calling, and I think Karla may be in trouble. MeMaw is saying something that sounds like Karla has passed out again; think she let her blood sugar get too low again, or else her insulin is reacting again...I hope to hear from you; thanks for listening to this Native American!
Karen you have to possess the most prolific imagination of anyone I know. How you come up with story after story with such depth and diversity of characters, is amazing! Bless you!
GAD. The NAMES you come up with--I'm not even going to attempt THAT one LOL! And the stories...they just keep coming, each getting better and better! Well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla Jean. (the real one! LOL)
A poignant story about letting go of a narcissist in your life. Have you ever been attacked FULL force by a narcissist? It's the closest thing to being stabbed over and over in the back.
A page-turning novel about a relationship between best friends that is interrupted because of betrayal , deceit, sexual promiscuity and pregnancy happens!
Monday, May 23, 2005~
