Sunday, April 10, 2016

The Cure For PTS

The rules say to
Toe the line
Get it right
Or pay the fine

1 is heavy
1 is lite
You shouldn't throw
With all your might

Arch it high
To stay on board
Hear the cheers
When you have scored

1 is on
3 is in
Make 15
You will win

There's so much more
That's attractive to me
I think it's called
Team comradery

So do your best
and you could win
Your dainty little crown
Will make us all grin

More than a game
It reduces stress
Could be the cure
For PTS.

Even The Score

Had my VA annual today
Did a CT and an X-ray

My lungs look good my aorta too
My kidney looks like canned beef stew

The doctor said he's concerned a lot
Need to know what made that spot

Ordered another test or two
Need some help to find a clue

Radiology said, "go get in line"
"For six more months you should be fine"

Kidney cancer grows really fast
Six months time I may not last

Now I know why 22 a day
Choose to not live life this way

I felt disposable during the war
Makes me want to even the score

I Know The Way Out

A PTS warrior fell into a well
Being trapped he started to yell

Many people walked by
But no one answered his cry

Finally a lawyer ran past
The warrior had to talk fast

"Will you help me out?"
"Here's my card. I'm on a steady route."

Then a priest heard the warriors plea.
The warrior knew he would be free.

"Will you help me out?" The warrior asked.
He threw down a prayer card as he passed.

The warrior then noticed a doctor walking by.
Surely this man will be my ally.

"Will you help me out?" The warrior said.
The doc threw down a script for two before bed.

The warrior was discouraged and about to quit.
When he noticed a war brother at the top of the pit.

"Can you help me out?" The warrior asked one last time.
"Please help me out of this messy slime."

The warrior on the top jumped into the well too.
"Why did you do that? What's wrong with you?"

"Rest easy my brother. Don't have a doubt.
I've been here before. I know the way out."

Inspired by Gunny Hammer

Saturday, April 9, 2016

Chap Calls It Moral Injury

I was raised a conservative lad
Because of the parents that I had

Made good grades all through school
Never forgot the golden rule

Even though I had the knowledge
Goofed a lot was drafted from college

Didn't want to go and fight
But chose to do what was right

Signed in as a conscientious objector
Thought it better than being a defector

Served as medic during the war
In a conflict that I abhor

Too much to ask from a teen aged kid
Unbelievable the missions I did

Ironic my brothers died one by one
When the only survivor didn't carry a gun

50 years later it's still hard to cope
Often I don't feel much hope

My doctors call it PTSD
My chaplain calls it moral injury

It doesn't matter who is wrong or right
Both carry a difficult plight

Reduced To My Knees

Went to Lowe's for a part.
Walked around pushing a cart.

Minding my own business there.
Until I had a big scare.

Walked by an employee working.
No idea a trigger was lurking.

Off went a loud alarm.
I thought I had bought the farm.

My knees went weak.
Flashback at its peak.

Half way to the floor,
I realized it wasn't war.

Too late by then.
Now emotions will begin.

While pulling myself up.
I'm pretty sure I said WTF.

Around the corner I started to cry.
Tears came to my eye.

Couldn't drive and hope to survive.
In a restaurant now until I revive.

It's been fifty years.
Amazing how the war reappears.

This is why I'm a recluse.
I'm a nut case on the loose.

I protect me from them and them from me.
That's just the way it needs to be.