An Iraqi War veteran must cope with her lifechanging injuries. She vents out her frustrations.
God bless our fighting men and women; let's be more supportive of them and their needs!
In an instant. That's all it took to change my life forever.
In an instant. That's all it took to scar me mentally for the rest of my life.
In an instant. That's all it took to put me in the position where I am at now.
My name is Ginger. Ginger Aurora Tackett. I live in Costa Mesa, California, with my parents. I was living on my own prior to going to Iraq, but now I am an injured vet, and they have invited me in so they can care for me.
I wanted to go into the Marines so I could defend my country's freedoms. I thought I would be indestructable; then came that damn ass bomb that exploded, and now ten of my buddies are dead, and I'm crippled. I lost both legs, and I am having a very hard time dealing with it, especially since the bomber in question waas a young teenaged girl with Down's syndrome. She looked no older than thirteen at the most.
Her co-conspiritors strapped a bomb to this innocent child, and they had her stand by our Humvee and blow herself up. It was horrific. One minute we were sitting around, patrolling our area, and the next, I saw this kid, and she had bombs strapped to her.She lit a match, and that was all it took. *BOOOOOOOOOOM* That's when my buddies screamed, and that's when my world faded into darkness.
When I awoke some time later, I found myself in a hospital. I was in incredible pain, the worst pain I'd ever felt in my life. I didn't find out until later that I'd lost both my legs in the blast, and when I did, I wish they would have killed me right then and there. It would have been easier.
After I recovered somewhat, I was flown to Germany for further surgery, further therapies. It was several more months of pain and torture. As a result of this, I became even more depressed. I wished for a gun, a bottle of pills: anything to commit suicide; I couldn't handle the pain much longer.
Eventually, I was flown back home to the States. I was greeted by my tearful parents, they were sorry to see me in the condition I was in. Yet they said they still lvoed me, no matter what, and that they would take care of me.
They've been taking care of me ever since.
Now my life is full of doctor visits, appointments, therapy sessions. I am walking again: on a pair of forearm crutches clamped to my elbows, perhaps, but still standing and walking. It isn't easy: I still have this damn phantom pain in my stumps, where my legs once were, but it is getting easier to bear. It is day by day thing: some days are worse than others. I am still dealing with the mental anguish, still dealing with the memories of that child's cherubic face, and the evil plan that she and her "buddies" had.
I'll never understand why the bombers used an innocent handicapped child to do their dirty deed, and I'll never understand why this happened to me in the first place. Now as a result of their actions, ten of my buddies are dead, and I am crippled. My life as I knew it before this happened is over.
I used to dance, swim, ride horses for recreation. Now I am trying to stand on a pair of wobbly crutches, fearing for my very life, fearing I'll fall and won't be able to get back up. I am having to go to the VA clinic and face callous, cold-hearted doctors who don't know a damn thing about my case or what I've been through. Instead of powerful pain meds, they give me Tylenol or Motrin. I've taken so much of this shit it's a wonder I have a liver left!
Then they tell me to see the psychologist because I "have an anger problem". Well, DUH! Newsflash here, folks: I'm hurting. I'm in pain. I NEED something more than goddamn Tylenol or Motrin for relief!!
Give me a break!!
Well, I will write in here again. You will be hearing from me soon. Until then, this is Ginger Aurora signing outta' here.
And there are now thousands upon thousands of severely wounded Iraq veterans just like Ginger, and I hope to God our government provides the care they truly need, and that we all provide the support.
A damn shame: insurgents using their own women and childen as bombs. They have no regard for human life. None, whatsoever: as long as they can take 'infidel' lives, their strategy pays off in blood and so-called 'honor.' Sad, sad story, excellently penned heartbreak. Well done.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
And God bless the brave men and women in uniform, who face hell every single day; God help those innocents who can't help themselves, who are the pawns of madmen.
An illustrated developmental history of the American military chemical and biological protective respirator for use against war agents, this work provides photographs of actual respirator specimens and several useful appendices, in addition to its en
