As is so often the case, I am at the keyboard when most others are abed. I don't know if it's my years of second-shift work at Yellow Freight, but I seem to have no problem keeping my eyes open. Just before sitting here, I finished reading the book I mentioned in the last post about the Army nurse in Vietnam. With that and the podcast I listened to earlier this evening, I was ready.
In earlier posts, I mentioned the author Tim O'Brien, whose book The Things They Carried launched my journey into my Vietnam past. His first book is a memoir titled If I Die in a Combat Zone, Box Me Up and Ship Me Home. Much like the Barbara Kautz book, Tim O'Brien wrote about his year (thirteen months) in Vietnam. His latest book, Dad's Maybe Book, is also a memoir. It's a love letter to his sons, a way for them to better understand their father, who became one so late in life. It also has advice for writing well, or at least better. I know I will re-read it again soon.
During the five minutes I spent earlier today on FB, I was alerted to a podcast that featured an interview with Tim. It can be found on the Home of the Creative Nonfiction Podcast. Ignore the foolishness during the first few minutes or just fast forward to the phone call interview. Having read almost all of Tim's books, I'm always looking for more from and about him; I hope I'm not too pushy here. But what made it such a memorable listen was that Tim thanked the interviewer for having read Dad's Maybe Book closely. The interviewer was able to ask many excellent questions, making Tim reveal things about himself that were surprising and enlightening.
Tim O'Brien's interview and finishing the nurse's book were second and third events that completed the trifecta that started with a birthday gathering we attended last Saturday. It was held at the home of a fellow veteran, a Marine in Vietnam. I've known him a few years, but we see each other only at gatherings such as this since he lives much of the year outside of Maine. Soon after meeting him, he told me about attending a support group for veterans, men who had trouble coming to terms with their experiences, who were diagnosed with PTSD.
At the party, we talked about our experiences with the VA. He told me that they have been taking care of him quite well. I know there have been plenty of complaints about the VA healthcare system.so it was nice to hear such a glowing report. I asked him again about the support group, if he still went there. He said he does attend when he's here in the summer, that it's a place to talk about things without getting too specific. He told me that aside from the experiences of being in battle, of being shot at and getting home untouched, the worst thing that happened to him wasn't any of that. He said that when he arrived in country, he was told that when you are down to your last 30 days, you get to stay back, not go out on patrols, keep out of the action. Of course, it wasn't the case at all. To this day, you could see how much it still bothered him.
When he had finished talking about a real battle experience, I told him about my own, both the chopper crash and the hot gun misfire incident, which I have written about in detail in earlier posts. But like him, I also had an experience, actually a string of experiences that took place long before I ever got aboard ship and over to Vietnam. I had never told anyone else about it other than my wife. When we finished relating our stories and disappointments, my Marine friend suggested that I might want to seek counseling at the VA, that he thought I too might have PTSD. I've said before that I don't think I do, but I do have a relative who's qualified to make such a diagnosis tell me that I have PTSD, albeit not as serious a case as some. What do you think?
©2020 John Robin Swanson
No comments:
Post a Comment