Category Archives: PTSD

February 9, 2010 · 22:27

PTSD in the Danger Zone and Blue Lights in the Rear View Mirror…Caught in the HOV damn!

Today I was able to have a pleasant chat with one of Virginia’s finest State Troopers.  The man was doing his duty and found me in violation of using the HOV-2 lane on I-264 West as I headed into work this morning. I didn’t get upset and was polite to this officer and did not make excuses to him to try to weasel out of the ticket even though I could have.  However I know that such excuse hold no weight with the officer writing the ticket, unless you are a good looking girl which I am not and I can say from past experiences that lady cops don’t take BS stories from guys they just glare at us and write the ticket, but I digress….

Any long term reader of this site knows that I am an Iraq veteran and have dealt with a pretty serious case of PTSD since my return from deployment in February of 2008, a condition that got a lot worse before it started getting better.  If you are curious my journey since that time please click the “PTSD” button on the subject list.  It has affected a considerable amount of my life, emotional, physical and spiritual and I am only really beginning to emerge from the nightmare.  However it still has an effect on me in crowded or unfamiliar places, airports and in bad traffic where I feel boxed in and vulnerable. My problems with nightmares, flashbacks and sleep problems are not as bad as they were and my life is on the uptick again, however bad traffic is a trigger.

I got started a bit late to work this morning, not real late to be late for work late, but late in the sense that the traffic was heavier than I normally deal with on my commute.  As I got on the highway the first thing that happened was that I got cut off and almost runoff the road by some idiot and once I got out into traffic things did not get better as people cut me off and boxed me in.  Anyone who has been on a lot of convoys in Iraq or Afghanistan can understand, congested areas are dangerous and for me and a good number of other veterans that I know when we get in a congested area it triggers the same hyper vigilance and need to get to a safe place or defend ourselves as similar situations in the combat zone. There are times on the road here if I had a turret gunner I would have him put a couple of rounds from the .50 cal or M240 series machine through the offending vehicle’s engine.  My hyper vigilance is keen on the road, it is among the places that I never relax and I can almost sense when someone is going to do something dangerous.

This morning was one of those kings of mornings, I had barely gone a mile down the road and I was looking for safety in an open space where I can get out of danger.  I found this today in the HOV lane and just as I thought I had gotten out of the danger zone I noticed a blue unmarked police car to my right. I immediate slowed down and moved back into the regular traffic lanes and moved toward the right anticipating that he would come and get me.  Once again I was right, he slowed down and worked his way behind me and just before the I-264 and I-64 interchange the pretty blue lights mounted in the pretty blue unmarked Chevy Impala came on and I pulled over.  The trooper asked if I knew why he had pulled me over and I acknowledged that I was in the HOV lane.  He took my license, registration and insurance paperwork as well as my military ID and about 7-8 minutes later came back with a ticket which is more like a sheet of paper and gave me the pink carbon copy.  He explained that signing was not an admission of guilt and informed me of a court date as well as how I could pay the fine early.

Was I guilty of driving in the HOV-2 without another passenger in the car?  Yes.  So by the letter of the law I am guilty.  However I do believe that I had mitigating circumstances so I will go to court not to claim that I was not where I was but to explain the danger that I felt that I was in and how I needed to get out of the danger zone.  I thought that the “Danger Stay Back” convoy sign sticker, the Multi-National Corps Iraq and “IRQ-I Served” bumper stickers would adequately identify me as someone who might be vulnerable but alas this was not the case.  The trooper was professional, polite and businesslike.  I could not find fault in anything that he did. I felt stupid that I had let myself get into the situation but at the same time knew that I was basically acting on instinct from my time in Iraq.

I will go to court to explain the mitigating circumstances and if I need to either bring a letter from or drag along Elmer the Shrink to explain this.  Who knows maybe the judge will have mercy on me, if not I pay the fine and until the state legislature passes an exemption for military personnel to use the HOV, which they are debating I will have to get blow up doll to inflate if I feel like I am in a danger zone and have to jump into the HOV.  On the way home I was able to hold it together.

So there it is, guilty as charged but with mitigating circumstances.  I know that I am not alone. I have heard countless stories of Iraq and Afghanistan vets doing the same thing in traffic.  It is no fun to feel danger.  I am an excellent driver, have driven thousands of miles on the German Autobahnen and in crazy traffic in a lot of countries as well as some of the worst traffic areas in this country, but that was before Iraq and PTSD.  I’m glad that I’m getting better but days like today show me that I still show the wear and tear from my time in Iraq and PTSD.  At least I did not have an emotional crash or anger rage that well could have happened just a few months ago.  The grace of God is good.

If you know any veterans from Iraq, Afghanistan or even those from Vietnam who suffer from stuff like this feel free to share this with them.

Pray for me a sinner,

Peace,

Padre Steve+

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January 11, 2010 · 22:34

Baseball Beyond Life and Death in the ICU

“I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the Earth. And I might have been given a bad break, but I’ve got an awful lot to live for…” Lou Gehrig

Today I was walking away from our hospital pharmacy where I had to pick up a prescription and I heard a voice of a man call out to me…no not a voice crying out in the wilderness, but a familiar voice.  I looked around and immediately recognized the man as the husband of the woman who back in May of last year was very near death in our ICU.  I wrote about that in a little post called Baseball in Between Life and Death in the ICU. That post came at an interesting time for my PTSD battle was still raging, my dad’s condition was getting worse and I was getting ready to go home for what I thought be my last visit and I was heavily engaged on the ICU and PICU.

The lady sat next to her husband, and it was yet another of the recent blessings in my life that I have begun to count as miracles. She looked great, especially since last year her prognosis for her life once she left the hospital was measured in weeks or a couple of months.  The woman was a big baseball fan and even coached.  Her husband kept baseball games on her ICU television whenever they were on even though she was for the most part very heavily sedated and only occasionally conscious. We had many visits by her bedside and one day I brought in a baseball that I had thrown out as the first pitch at a Kinston Indians game on a wedding anniversary a few years back.  With her husband and sister in the room I put the ball in her hand which tightened around it.  For what I understand the ball seldom left her hand as she remained in the ICU.  As we visited they both told me how much what I did in the ICU meant to them, the prayer, anointing of the sick and the baseball.  She told me that the ball, an official Carolina League ball on her mantle.  What was funny she only vaguely remembered my face because of her terrible condition and sedation, but that her husband would not stop talking about me. We chatted some more and talked about all the prayer that had been made on her behalf as well as the hard work of the ICU and Cardiology teams to keep her alive and help her recover.  I mentioned that probably the whole companies of baseball “saints” in heaven were praying for her as well and we all had a great laugh.  I had to leave and go to a call but we exchanged hugs and blessings.

Today has been a busy day.  I have already dealt with the death of a relatively young woman with cancer in palliative care; withdraw of life support from a man and several other situations where people could be spending their last hours or days on earth.  I had given last rites to the woman who passed away tonight last Thursday when I was on call.

I mentioned last week that despite everything I still felt good emotionally though I was physically worn out. Today I am pretty fresh even now and know that I will need to remain her much of the day tomorrow no matter what happens tonight.  However for the first time in a while I can say that I am ready and feel something like my old self again.  What began as Padre Steve’s Christmas Miracle has continued into the New Year and despite complications and infection associated with my implant surgery I feel good. I am hoping to be cleared Wednesday to PT again and am looking forward to good things even in the midst of life and death both inside and outside of the ICU.

There are some other things going on that I will be writing about in the coming days. Baseball spring training is getting closer and lots of deals and trades are happening. The Orioles and Giants have both picked up some hitting and have great young pitching.  On the other news front I am glad that Mark McGuire finally admitted his use of steroids.  At the same time I am not going to condemn him as so many others were doing the same thing, I just wished he had not taken them and come clean sooner.

Now I’m heading back upstairs to check on all of my really sick folks and savoring the bit of time that I had for dinner and to write this little post.

Peace

Padre Steve+

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January 8, 2010 · 21:25

A Short Restropective on Recovery

Tonight I will Sleep and not Worry about Communists or Anyone Else…I don’t know if the Dog will accompany me

I’m going to bed.  I’m tired, but for the first time in recent memory I have has two weeks without an emotionally crash.  Since it was two years ago this week that I returned from Iraq this was sort of a surprise. It was even more of a surprise due to having oral surgery to put in an implant and a heated discussion with my mom which normally of itself would have sent me on a emotional trip down the sewage pipe of life. Even that did not end up a disaster and even to some degree allowed us to be honest and get past the emotion of the moment and actually listen to each other.  Another miracle?

It began shortly before Christmas when I was expecting to have a miserable Christmas full of full dreams. nightmares, insomnia, anxiety attack, rages and dare I say….oh dare…depression.  Instead I experienced Christmas Miracle.  We;; the Octave of  Christmas is over and not only did I experience the miracle of a noce Christmas, it continued, despite having oral surgery just days later.

Now I did have some anxiety about the implant surgery.  Being that I am just a tad knowledgeable about risks and potential complications it is a miracle that I didn’t obsess and make myself crazy.  In fact I was talking with one of my favoroite intensive care doctors in the ICU about it and and he asked me if I thought about the potential risks and complications as we discussed the infection that I experienced subsequent to the surgery.  When he found out that I did think about these things he said it was amazing what being on the “other side” was like.  I had a number of other physicians and nurses comment on my experience of being a patient and what I remembered and did not remember while sedated. So I am glad that I wrote them down and published them.

As far as the surgery, I ended up getting an infection at the site and my oral surgeon made a quick intervention with a large does on IV antibiotics on Tuesday morning.  Today he was please to tell me that it looked that the infection was gone and that I was getting better. Since the pain has lessened and I am not having any more major malfunctions I think that I believe him.

The past two weeks has been exhausting, but for the first time since I returned from Iraq it was not due to emotional or spiritual crisis, but just simply the physical recovery from surgery and physical exhaustion.  Even yesterday where I had a very busy on call which involved dealing with two deaths and 3 other patients who have a very good chance of dying today or in the next few days, one of whom I administered Last Rites to did not sent me down an emotional abyss.  Instead I can say that though very tired I felt the grace of God and despite being on the run much of the night and well into the morning was back in my element. For the first time that I can remember this kind of night did not pull the emotional stuffing out of me.

So maybe I am getting better and for that I am grateful.  Tonight I’m heading to bed way early for me.  That is alright. I need the sleep and actually think that I will sleep.  Next week will be challenging.  For part of at least two days I will be the acting department head in addition to my usual duties.  I am actually looking forward to the opportunity and planning the week in my mind even now so that I am able to do all that I need to do.  I don’t think that was possible just a few weeks back.  I looking forward to and not dreading next week despite the fact that it will be busy and challenging.  Maybe two years after the fact I am indeed getting better.

Peace and blessings

Steve+

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December 24, 2009 · 18:26

Padre Steve’s Christmas Miracle

Merry Christmas!

I do not throw the word miracle around lightly.  In fact I generally get irritated when I hear people calling things miracles that are no such thing such as giving God credit for the screw ups or successes of people.  I heard of a case recently where someone’s loved one had a preliminary test that showed possible cancer. Of course the person was upset and asked people to pray.  A second confirmation test was done and it turned out that the first was a “false positive.”  False positive tests are a part of the whole medical package, people and machines make mistakes.  The person sent an e-mail out to announce that the test had been a false positive and then proceeded to say that it had to be God healing the relative in question, not a mistake.  I think that to makes such a claim actually cheapens the term “miracle” and does God a disservice.  God at least to my understanding does pretty well on his or her own.   It is like in baseball where an infielder commits an obvious error that is glaring and the official scorer scores the play as a hit.  Now I rejoice that this person’s loved one did not have cancer, but the fact was that they never had cancer to begin with and thus to call the event a miracle is rather silly.  The same is true when a medical team works their ass off to save someone from death, does everything right and makes the save only to have people give all the credit to God.  Once again I have no doubt that God can be involved but to simply write off the efforts of dedicated people is to do a disservice to God.  I think that God is okay with people that he or she created getting credit where credit is due.

Miracles are rare and not everything is a miracle.  So when I say that I am experiencing a miracle I am certainly not doing so just to make me look deserving or extra spiritual.  Anyone who knows me knows that such a claim would be fraudulent.   I think that miracles related to one’s spiritual and psychological condition are rare and since there is no lab test to prove that you are all better that they are difficult to quantify.  When I hear people talk about being completely “healed” in such matters I am a wait and see kind of person, as Ronald Reagan once said: “Trust but verify,” especially in regard to anything to do with me, simply because I don’t want to look like an ass or by my claims make God look stupid when they do not pan out.

The past couple of years have been the hardest of my life.  I have talked about the effects of PTSD, issues with my father’s Alzheimer’s disease, my own sense of alienation and isolation, anxiety, depression and the crisis of faith that I experienced quiet a few times so I will not rehash them in this essay.  The reality is that they are a reality that I have had to try to come to grips with.  For most of this time I have existed in a world where everything hurt and I struggled to believe.  Imagine having to pray for people when you are wondering if God even exists at times.  To put it mildly it sucks.   That has been my world, despite my expertise at what I do and the pent up knowledge that exists in the gray matter mounted in my bald brain housing group it has been a struggle to keep going.

While PTSD, anxiety and depression are major issues I think the thing that made them worse was how alone I felt and how it seemed that God had abandoned me.  I think that was actually more frightening than the nightmares, insomnia, fear and everything else associated with my experience in and return from Iraq.  I believe, at least from my experience that a crisis of faith and feeling alienated and abandoned by God is one of the most frightening and dehabilitating things that can happen to a Priest or any other minister.  In fact I am pretty sure that when you ask ministers who have left the ministry that somewhere in their experience is a crisis of faith. That might be hidden by other circumstances but I’m pretty sure that it is there.

Christmas in Iraq…The Last Time I Felt the Presence of God…until Now

The past 22 months since returning from Iraq have been a terrible ordeal in an emotional and spiritual sense, however something has begun to happen and I cannot place my finger on it but somehow I am beginning to feel touched buy the grace of God again.  It actually began quite unexpectedly.  I came home from a disastrous trip to visit my parents in November completely wiped out and depressed.  It seemed that I had crashed yet again and I expected that this Christmas would be no different than that of last year where I left Mass before it began and walked for an hour in the dark and cold wondering where God had gone.  So when things started to happen, beginning ironically with the experience of performing the last rites for a patient in our ER and experiencing a number of other situations where I again felt part of something bigger than me I was surprised.  Lo, even astonished at events that I couldn’t explain were happening as well as the fact that people care for me, all kinds of people, co-workers, friends from baseball, friends from Gordon Biersch and friends from church.  I think that is where I began to realize that God might just care and maybe that there was hope for me again that maybe what I did mattered.

Today was a busy day as I walked about the medical center.  I saw the work of my physician, nurse, corpsmen and technicians of various sorts as they fought to save the lives of people.  I spent time with our staff as they worked to stabilize a very sick child for transport to another hospital in a last ditch attempt to save the child’s life as the child’s mother looked on.  I watched our ER team assisted by one of our anesthesiologists from the ICU work to save the life of an elderly man and get him to the ICU.  I saw surgeons and neurologists evaluating and working with a fairly young man who is in dire straits.  For all of these folks Christmas Eve and Christmas day are days that they are “in the fight.” They are days where the miracle is real, but not evidenced to all.  I am amazed by the skill, dedication and care of all of these folks who are attempting to ensure that Christmas does not end badly for others, both the patients in their charge as well as their family members.

Mid afternoon I was walking down the hall and I experienced a wave of emotion flood over me, and unlike the majority of emotions that I have felt in the past couple of years this was different.  It was a feeling of grace and I guess the presence of God.  I went up and talked with Elmer the shrink about what I was feeling and the experience was awesome, I was in tears as I shared, not the tears of sadness, but of grace.  I am beginning to re-experience the grace of God, something that has been so long absent that I did not expect it, at least right now.  I didn’t do anything differently; I certainly was not working extra hard to pray more, get more spiritual or pack my brain full of Bible verses.  I was too far gone to do those things.  It was all I could do many mornings just to get out of bed and come to work.

Now I know that I still have some hurdles in regard to my PTSD and that I am still not a “full up round” spiritually, but I have hope again. I am not the same Christian or Priest that I was before Iraq.  I have changed in a lot of ways, but that is not necessarily a bad thing.  I know I have a long way to go, but for the first time in this see that I might actually get there.

I guess that is the miracle. Last year I dreaded the very thought of Christmas and this year I look forward to the Advent of Jesus, the Christ.  That in the middle of life and death, experiencing pain, alimentation and all that I have described that something has touched my life and I have hope again.  Tonight the Abbess is singing at her 5 PM Mass while I attend the 6 PM Mass over at Saint James Episcopal on my way home from work.  When we get home we will have dinner together, open presents, watch Molly open her presents and probably if I have my way watch funny Christmas movies and specials as we spend the night together.

I pray that you will experience some measure of grace this Christmas, or whatever you celebrate.  I do pray that God will protect us all and that we will be able to experience together the grace, mercy and peace of God.

Merry Christmas my friends, thank you for being there for me this year.

As Tiny Tim said at the end of Dickens’s A Christmas Carol: “May God bless us all.”

Peace,

Padre Steve+

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December 24, 2009 · 00:59

Padre Steve’s Meditation on the Nativity

“Actually, Lucy, my trouble is Christmas. I just don’t understand it. Instead of feeling happy, I feel sort of let down.” Charlie Brown in “A Charlie Brown Christmas”


When Christmas comes and you struggle with faith, see little hope and even despair of life, even the thought of Christmas coming can make the season even more difficult.  I know, I have gone through this since my return from Iraq.  Christmas 2008 was so frightful due to PTSD symptoms, insomnia, anxiety, depression and a crisis in faith that I could see little to hope in.  It was so difficult that before Mass began at the Abbess’s parish that I couldn’t stay.  I walked home in the cold and dark, not directly home but the long way looking up at the heavens and wondering if God was even there.  For the first time in my life I could really relate to Charlie Brown.  That as I have mentioned before was actually a terrifying thought.  Even in the darkest of times in seminary I never lost hope and always felt something special at Christmas.  In Iraq in 2007 I felt an incredible closeness to God as I traveled about to my advisers along the Iraqi-Syrian border having the chance to celebrate Christmas Eve and Christmas Eucharist and spend time with our guys and distributing toys, school supplies and cold weather clothing to Bedouin families who invited us in for Ch’ai tea and food.  But in 2008 faith was dry and hope, well hope was something that I prayed for as I walked home that Christmas Eve.

This year has been one of ups and downs but I have noticed that I have been feeling better the past few weeks.  Yes I still have problems sleeping but I am actually trying to get to bed earlier but I still have my struggles with faith and God but unlike last year I am looking forward to the celebration of Christ’s Incarnation.  The message of “Emmanuel, God with Us” is something that I find resonating again.  Maybe it was in that moment a couple of weeks back where I was on call and ended up having the blessing of doing an anointing, or “last rites” of a retired Navy doctor who had done his internship at my hospital and having the experience of having him breathe his last as I completed the rites.  There was something miraculous about that man, his life and faith that allowed the Deity Herself to somehow let me be on call and respond with exactly what he desired in his final moments on this earth.  Maybe it was running into a lady who had spent two months in our ICU earlier in the year.  At numerous times her condition was so critical that it appeared that she would die. However she spotted me is I was filling my cup of water and ice in the hospital food court and pulled me aside.  She was doing great and thanked me for being there for her.  Then there were other times where I was able to get outside of my problems and be part of other people’s lives, many times those who are critically ill like Sadie Harrell who on her death bed took the time to bless those around her, give directions to her family and before asking for more pain medications telling me that it was time to pray.   I could give the accounts of numerous people, staff and patients at our hospital as well as people at church, friends that I have known for years and people that I have gotten to know through this website and Facebook as well as my friends at the Church of Baseball, Harbor Park Parish and Gordon Biersch.

Some of those have been through responses of people to what I write on this website.  A few days ago I heard from the son of my ROTC training NCO Master Sergeant Harry Zilkan who passed away a few years back.  I talked about Sergeant “Z” in my post “Remembering the Veterans in my Life.”  I was honored to hear from him and hear how much he appreciated what I said about his dad.  When I started this site back in February I saw it as an outlet for me, and that it has been, at the same time I find that there are people very much like me who have walked in similar shoes who have been blessed by what I write.  This is actually quite humbling.

Like I said this year has been different. I still have a hard time with prayer though extemporaneous prayer on the behalf of others is becoming relatively normal again even if I still have not been able to resume my regular prayers of the Daily Office which died during Lent because they had become rote and were more of a duty than a part of life.  I had never expected that, but I think I will use the Nativity to begin again.

This has been a year of transition as I have struggled with a crisis of faith, the seeming absence of God, PTSD, anger, depression and anxiety the condition of my father with his Alzheimer’s disease and problems dealing with my mother.  Likewise, I find that the feeling of being vulnerable, weak and the pain of having to deal with all of those emotions for the first time that I can remember is not where I want to be, but does give me empathy for those who have lived with these feelings for years.  In a sense I have began to be part of that community.  At the same time despite all of this that faith is returning and I can sense hope again.  Even the Scriptures for the season and the songs and carols are touching me again.  The sense of tradition in the liturgy at church has been good for me since beginning to attend Saint James Episcopal Church in Portsmouth.  I am finally beginning to hope again.

For me this comes in “the fullness of time” at least my time. The scripture from Galatians comes to mind. This is part of the Sunday liturgy for the Sunday after Christmas this year:

4But when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, 5in order to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as children. 6And because you are children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our* hearts, crying, ‘Abba!* Father!’ 7So you are no longer a slave but a child, and if a child then also an heir, through God.* Galatians 4:4-7 NRSV

I once again feel the message of deliverance spoken of by the prophet Zephaniah:

Sing aloud, O daughter Zion;
shout, O Israel!
Rejoice and exult with all your heart,
O daughter Jerusalem!
15The Lord has taken away the judgments against you,
he has turned away your enemies.
The king of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst;
you shall fear disaster no more. Zephaniah 3:14-15

Tonight I will be at Saint James even as the Abbess sings at the 5 PM Mass at her parish.  I am looking forward to the Mass tonight.

I do pray that whatever you are doing tonight and regardless of whether you are a Christian or not that you will know joy, peace and the presence of God this season.  I think of the Jewish physicians at the Medical Center who are covering today and tomorrow to allow their Christian colleagues to attend services and be with their families.  God bless you guys, you’re the best!

As I said yesterday, Merry Christmas or whatever you do.

Peace and blessings,

Padre Steve+

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December 14, 2009 · 23:59

Doubt and Faith: My Crisis in Faith and Why I am Still a Christian an Advent Meditation

Note to my readers. This is an older article that I wrote back in December 2009, when after nearly two years of struggle with the effects of PTSD, depression, anxiety, loss and a crisis of faith that made me for all practical purposes an agnostic. I think it is timely now, not because of what is currently going on in my life but rather because of the stories I hear from those that struggle with faith at Christmas. Peace, Padre Steve+

Lord I believe, help me in my unbelief.

A new liturgical year is upon us and with the season of Advent Christians look forward to the “Advent” of Christ both in looking forward to the consummation of all things in him as well as inviting him back into our lives as we remember his Incarnation, as the Creed says “For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven: by the power of the Holy Spirit he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary, and was made man.”

At the same time for a lot of people the season of Advent and Christmas are incredibly difficult and times where faith, already difficult becomes nearly impossible.  For many the season is not a time of joy but depression, sadness and despair.

For me Advent and Christmas were times of wonder and mystery and I really found it difficult to understand how anyone could be depressed during the season.  Until I came home from Iraq…

While I believe the Scriptures and the Creed this I have to admit that for the last 22 months since returning from Iraq I have doubted, been depressed and at times felt like God had abandoned me.  Things were so difficult last year that I went to the Christmas Eve Mass with the Abbess and was crashing so hard that I had to leave. I walked through the night for over an hour until I got home, a walk that is a maximum of 10 to 15 minutes from the church.  It was probably the lowest point of my life as a Priest, chaplain and Christian.

Since I returned from Iraq my life has been a series of ups and major downs. In dealing with PTSD, anxiety, depression and chronic insomnia as well as my dad’s painfully slow degeneration with Alzheimer’s disease to the point that he no longer recognized me on my last visit, I have struggled with faith.  Prayer became difficult at best and as I dealt with different things in life I knew that I didn’t have any easy answers.  Going to church was painful. Chaplain conferences even more so, except being with others who struggled like me.  About the only place that I could find solace was at a baseball park.  For some reason the lush green diamond comforts me.

I find that the issue of doubt is not uncommon for a lot of people, including ministers of all faiths. For those of us who are ordained and view our ministry or our Priesthood as a sacred vocation this is difficult to deal with.  Ministers and others who suffer a crisis in faith, depression or despair endure a hell because it is not supposed to happen to us. I do believe that for many people a religious leader who has doubts and struggles with his or her faith is disconcerting.  I can remember a myriad of situations where pastors due to a myriad of reasons experienced a crisis in faith many of which involved great personal loss such as the loss of a child, a failed marriage, being let go or fired by a church, or experiencing a major traumatic event.  These were good people and quite often instead of being enfolded by a caring community of faith they were treated as faithless, failed and worthless, often abandoned or excluded from their faith community as if they were criminals.

When I was younger I used to look askance at pastors who had given up, lost their faith, or abandoned the ministry for whatever reason.  As a young seminary student and later young chaplain I had a hard time with this, it made no sense to me and I was somewhat judgmental until I started to get to know a decent number of “broken” ministers from various faith traditions that a lot more went into their decision than simply not being tough enough to hang in there until things got better.  At the same time I never thought it would happen to me. I thought I was “bulletproof,” that it could never happen to me. And it did and I was stunned.

When I came back from Iraq I came home to find that my office had been packed up and many mementos lost, it took months to find most and there are still important documents that have never been recovered. My accomplishments went unrecognized on my return home.  As I crashed no one asked about my faith until Elmer the shrink did when he met me.  Later my Commodores, first Frank Morneau when he found out about my condition and Bob Sitsch when he took command of EOD Group 2 both asked me about my faith.  I told them that I was struggling. Commodore Sitsch asked me “Where does a Chaplain go for help?”  On the professional side I felt isolated from much of my church and many chaplains.  I was angry because I felt that I deserved better, because I had done all that was asked of me and more.  The Chaplains that I knew cared all worked in different commands and were not immediately available and I was ashamed to go ask them for help.

I appreciated simple questions like “How are you doing with the Big Guy?” or “Where does a Chaplain go to for help?” It showed me that people cared.  When I went to the medical center I dealt with many difficult situations and was haunted by my dad’s deterioration, the latter which I still deal with today.  To have a close family member mock my vocation, service and person and provoke me into rages was equally taxing.  Likewise the absolute hatred and divsion in the American political debate tore my heart out.  I felt like, and in some ways still feel like we are heading down a path to being “Weimar America.”

There were many times that I knew that I had no faith.  People would ask me to pray and it was all that I could do to do to pray and hoped that God would hear me.  Even the things that I found comforting, the Mass, the Liturgy and the Daily Office were painful.

This Christmas and Advent is better than last.  I am finding meaning again.  The little Episcopal Church that I attend helps me in this.  It is much like the churches that I grew up in.  The hymns and the liturgy are comforting.  I am beginning to rediscover faith.  A week and a half ago I was paged stat or our ER where an elderly man was dying.  He was 91 years old and had suffered a heart attack at his family home not far from the hospital.  He has served as a Navy Officer and later Navy doctor and had done his internship at our medical center in the 1940s.

I sprinted to the ER and when I got to his room was introduced to his wife.  She asked if I would pray and then asked if I was Episcopal.  I said I was a Priest in an Episcopal denomination and she asked if I could give her husband, a life-long Episcopalian the last rites.  The man was obviously in his last moments of life.  I performed the Rite and when I finished he passed away.  My hand was on his brow when he breathed his last and his body began to lose its warmth.  One of the Doctors said it was like he had waited until I got there.  The man died with his family, was at home in the house his father built and had eaten what he said was the best “stew of his life” before he passed out.  He died at the hospital he trained at and loved with his family at his side and received the last rites of the Church.  I left the ER after a wonderful chat with his wife, who reflected on his life and how blessed that he was to go out like this.  I left the ER knowing that I had been part of something miraculous.  My eyes were opened and for one of the few times in the past 22 months I felt the presence of God again.

I am still a Christian.  Why is sometimes hard to figure.  I am not a Christian because of the my Church, though I love the Church, it often has been for me a sourse of pain and rejection.  I am not a Christian because of what is called “Christian” nor can I ignore the injustice, violence and oppression wrought by those who called themsleves Christian throughout history.  Slavery, the subjectation and conquest of who peoples to take their land and resources and wars of agression blessed by “Christian” leaders are all part of history.  At the same time much progress has come through the work, faith and actions of Christians and the Church. Despite all of the warts I can like Hans Kung “I can feel fundamentally positive about a tradition that is significant for me; a tradition in which I live side by side with so many others, past and present.” (Kung, Hans Why I am Still a Christian Abingdon Press, Nashville 1987 p. 36)

Neither am I a Christian because I think that the Christian faith has “all” of the answers.  In fact coming through Iraq I understand what my Church History Professor, Dr Doyle Young said “all of people’s deepest needs are not religious.”  Nor am I a Christian because I think that Christians are somehow better or more spiritual than others.  In fact I find the crass materialism and self centered “What can God to for me?” theology and way of life to be deeply offensive.  People get sick, young children die, innocents are subjected to trauma even from their parents or siblings.  Good people endure unspeakable trials while sometimes it seems that evil people get away with murder.  I can’t chealk it all up to a naive “it’s God’s will” kind of theology.  I don’t presume to know God’s will and I can’t be satisfied with pat answers like I see given in so many allegedly Christian publications, sermons and media outlets.  Praying doesn’t always make things better. I remain a Christian in spite of these things.  I still believe that God cares in spite of everything else, in spite of my own doubts, fears and failure.  I still believe, Lord help me in my unbelief.

I look forward to Christmas this year. I look forward to the coming of Emmanuel, God with us.  We sang the hymn “O Come O Come Emmanuel” at Church Sunday.  It was what I needed to hear.

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan’s tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o’er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai’s height,
In ancient times did’st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

For those that like me struggle with faith, feel abandoned by God, family and friends.  For those who have experienced the crisis of faith or even a loss of faith I pray that all of us will experience joy this season.  I’m sure that I will have some ups and downs, I certainly don’t think that I am over all that I am still going through.  However I know that I am not alone to face my demons and pray that by opening up that others who are going through similar experiences will find hope.  O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer, our spirits by Thine advent here. Disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death’s dark shadows put to flight.

Peace,

Padre Steve+

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November 12, 2009 · 02:01

Veteran’s Day: Goodbye to 666 Lake of Fire Circle, a Golf Outing and Remembering the Veterans in my Life

veteransday2009

Today was Veteran’s Day. Amid the solemnity of the day I am still in California where I came this week to try to help my mom with my dad’s affairs and to also see my dad who is definitely in the end stages of Alzheimer’s disease.  This has been the hardest trip home in my life.  I knew I had to come, although the Abbess was against it fearing for my emotional health and perhaps she was right.  Tonight I sit in a hotel room self medicating and trying to regain some sense of sanity.

Me and last last picDad and Me back in May…He Still knew Me then

The past few days have been hell.  My dad does not know me anymore; he has almost no response to anything and stares straight ahead.  The hardest part is when I realized that he didn’t know me.  So I asked if he had seen my mother who I had taken to visit him the day before and my brother.  He said that he had seen them, and even seen my mom the morning I asked him the question.  However she had not been there that day.  So I asked if “Steve had visited yesterday.”  He got agitated and said “I don’t know any Steve yesterday.”  Today was much the same, I asked if he knew who Steve was, and he said “yes” and I asked if he had seen him and he said “no he hasn’t been here.”  This whole trip he has probably spoken under 50 words in 4 visits.  There is nothing left. For all practical purposes he is dead in a body that won’t die.  If that was not bad enough my mother has not skipped any opportunity to attack and pick at me until I broke.  I begged her to lay off, told her that I was not up to fighting with her and tried to keep my cool but she wouldn’t let up.   I cannot deal with constant conflict and a mother who calls me “a weak, politically correct pansy.”  I’m a combat veteran and went to war unarmed into hostile territory with little groups of Americans far away from the big battalions with all the heavy weapons and the women called me a “weak, politically correct pansy.  She has put me down, belittled my education, vocation and career and insulted my wife for the last time. When I told her that “everything in her life that was wrong was somebody else’s fault and not hers” she agreed.  I knew it was over at that point. This may sound un-Christian but I will not go see her again.   Tomorrow I will see my dad for what it is worth, see my brother and his family and then early Friday I will get the hell out of Dodge.  She had offered to pay for my trip out but I can’t prostitute myself for that kind of abuse.    The next time I come back it will be for my father’s funeral.  I love my brother and his family.  He and his wife are saints.  I couldn’t live that near my mother without ending up in a psychotic state, something that I came perilously close to this week.  God bless Jeff, Mel and their kids.

Me and Jeff at mickey groveWith my Brother back in May

I went golfing with my brother and nephews today.  For much of the day I couldn’t hit water if I fell out of the damned boat.  My mind was so gooned up and upset by the events of the week I couldn’t concentrate worth a shit.  Even my well hit shots were mainly slicing to the right and I embarked on a tree killing expedition.  I hit 7 trees solidly, took down a couple of decent sized branches, grazed three other trees and nailed an outhouse.  However it was really good to be out with Jeff, Darren and Nate.  Nate can really hit the ball for an 8 year old; he has the potential to be a really good golfer.  Darren doesn’t really care and is out to have fun.  He enjoyed my sarcasm as I commented on my shots and helped keep track of the number of trees that I hit and I told him that I would see how many I could try to kill before the day was out.  By the end of the round I was hitting the ball a lot better and it was going more often than not where I wanted it to go, but the first 7 holes were hell.  It makes me think of Robin Williams’ golf routine. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xDQd49rEF_0

As I mentioned today was Veteran’s day.  After I got my hotel I went to a local Applebee’s where I had a sirloin steak and potatoes and a couple beers on their Veterans’ day salute.  I sat at the bar with a couple about 10 years older than me; he had served on a Navy Minesweeper in Vietnam.  They were nice; I think that is why I like sitting at the bar when I go out to eat, there is a sense of community that you don’t find a lot of other places.

As it is Veteran’s day I think I will take some time to remember some of the Veterans in my life who have helped my through my life and career.  This is taken from a post that I did around Memorial Day.

I’ve been in the military for almost 28 years now.  I enlisted in the National Guard while in college and entered Army ROTC back in 1981.  Since then it has been to quote Jerry Garcia “a long strange trip.”  My dad served twenty years in the Navy.  He retired in 1974 as a Chief Petty Officer and did time surrounded in the South Vietnamese city of An Loc when it was surrounded by the North Vietnamese for 80 days in 1972.  He didn’t talk about it much when he came back; in fact he came back different from the war.  He probably suffered from PTSD.  All the markers were there but we had no idea about it back then, after all he was in the Navy not the Army.

breedlove-ness2LCDR Breedlove and Chief Ness

My second view of war came from the Veterans of Vietnam that I served with in the National Guard and the Army.  Some of these men served as teachers and mentors.  LCDR Jim Breedlove and Senior Chief John Ness at the Edison High School Naval Junior ROTC program were the first who helped me along. They have both passed away in the past year and a half.  I will never forget them.  A post dedicated to them is on this blog. Colonel Edgar Morrison was my first battalion commander.  He was the most highly decorated member of the California National Guard at that time and had served multiple tours in Vietnam.  He encouraged me as a young specialist and officer cadet and showed a tremendous amount of care for his soldiers.  Staff Sergeant’s Buff Rambo and Mickey Yarro taught me the ropes as a forward observer and shared many of their Vietnam experiences. Buff had been a Marine dog handler on the DMZ and Mickey a Forward Observer.  Sergeant First Class Harry Zilkan was my training NCO at the UCLA Army ROTC program.  He was a Special Forces Medic with 7th Group in Vietnam.  He still had part of a VC bayonet embedded in his foot.  He received my first salute as a newly commissioned Second Lieutenant as well as a Silver Dollar.  I understand that after the Army he became a fire fighter.  He had a massive heart attack on the scene of a fire and died a few years later from it.  Sergeant Major John Butler was our senior enlisted at UCLA.  He served with the 173rd Airborne in Vietnam.  Sergeant First Class Harry Ball was my drill sergeant at the ROTC pre-commissioning camp at Fort Lewis Washington in 1982.  He was also Special Forces and a Ranger and served multiple tours in Vietnam.  He was quite influential in my life, tearing me apart and then building me back up.  He was my version of Drill Sergeant Foley in An Officer and a Gentleman. Like Zack Mayo played by Richard Gere in the movie I can only say: Drill Sergeant “I will never forget you.”

As I progressed through my Army career I encountered others of this generation who also impacted my life. First among them was First Sergeant Jim Koenig who had been a Ranger in the Mekong Delta.  I was the First Sergeant that I would measure all others by.  Once during a ARTEP we were aggressed and all of a sudden he was back in the Delta. This man cared so much for his young soldiers in the 557th Medical Company.   He did so much for them and I’m sure that those who served with him can attest to this as well as me. Jim had a brick on his desk so that when he got pissed he could chew on it.   He was great.  He played guitar for the troops and had a song called Jane Fonda, Jane Fonda You Communist Slut. It was a classic.  He retired after he was selected to be a Command Sergeant Major because he valued his wife and family more than the promotion.  It hurt him to do this, but he put them first. Colonel Donald Johnson was the commander of the 68th Medical Group when I got to Germany in January 1984.  Colonel “J” as well all called him was one of the best leaders I have seen in 28 years in the military.  He knew everything about everything and his knowledge forced us all to learn and be better officers and NCOs.  On an inspection visit you could always find him dressed in coveralls and underneath a truck verifying the maintenance done on it.  He served a number of Vietnam tours.  He died a few years back of Multiple Myeloma and is buried at Arlington.  Chaplain (LTC) Rich Whaley who had served as a company commander in Vietnam on more than one occasion saved my young ass at the Army Chaplain School.  He remains a friend and is the Endorsing Agent for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. As a Mormon he was one of the most “Christian” men that I have ever met.  I know some Christians who might have a hard time with that, but Rich demonstrated every trait of a Christian who loved God and his neighbor.

MVC-023SMe with Major General Frank Smoker USAF (Ret) and Colonel Tom Allmon 2005

When I was the Installation Chaplain at Fort Indiantown Gap PA I was blessed to have some great veterans in my Chapel Parish.  Major General Frank Smoker flew 25 missions as a B-17 pilot over Germany during the height of the air war in Europe. He brought his wonderful wife Kate back from England with him.  Henry Boyd who I buried was one of the 101st Airborne soldiers epitomized in Band of Brothers. He had a piece of shrapnel lodged next to his heart from the Battle of the Bulge until the day he died. Scotty Jenkes was an Air Force pilot in Vietnam flying close air support. Colonel Ray Hawthorne served several tours both in artillery units and as an adviser in 1972.  CWO4 Charlie Kosko flew helicopters in Vietnam.  All these men made a deep impact on me and several contributed to my career in very tangible ways.

051Ray and his Crew from The Vietnam Veterans of America at Harbor Park

My life more recently has been impacted by others.  My friends of the veterans of the Battle of Hue City including General Peter Pace, Barney Barnes,  Tony “Limey Cartilage ” Sergeant Major Thomas and so many others have become close over the years, especially after I did my time in Iraq. They and all the Vietnam vets, including the guys from the Vietnam Veterans of America like Ray and John who man the beer stand behind the plate at Harbor Park all mean a lot to me.  My friends at Marine Security Forces Colonel Mike Paulovich and Sergeant Major Kim Davis mean more than almost any people in the world.  We traveled the globe together visiting our Marines.  Both of these men are heroes to me as well as friends.

boarding teamUSS HUE CITY Boarding Team 2002

Finally there are my friends and brothers that I have served with at sea on USS HUE CITY during Operation Enduring Freedom and the advisers on the ground in Al Anbar mean more than anything to me. Perhaps the most important is my RP, RP2 Nelson Lebron who helped keep me safe and accompanied me all over the battlefield.  Nelson who has done Iraq 3 times, Afghanistan, Lebanon and the Balkans is a hero.  The men and women of Navy EOD who I served with from 2006-2008 have paid dearly in combating IEDs and other explosive devices used against us in Iraq and Afghanistan are heroes too.  There is no routine mission for EOD technicians.

307With 1st Brigade 1st Iraqi Division Advisers in East Ramadi January 2008

I give thanks for all them men that I mention in this post, especially my dad. God bless all of you guys. Please honor the Veterans that you know not only on Memorial Day or Veterans’ Day but every day.   Honor also those who gave their lives in the defense of liberty in all of the wars of our nation. They have earned it.

Today as I write many of my friends serve in harm’s way.  I hope that my recovery, spiritually, emotionally and physically goes well enough that I can go back with them.  For now I need to recover. My boss is right about that, if this week is any indication I’m in no shape to go back to a combat zone, bit Lord willing I will be so I can be with those I care for and serve alongside.

Peace,

Padre Steve+

Post Script: I do pray that no one takes offense at my words regarding my dealings with my mother. If someone thinks that I am wrong, or out of line they can contact me privately.  However, I have to protect me now.  I can’t help her or save her so I’m done.

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November 7, 2009 · 13:00

Getting ready to Fly and Fort Hood Update IV

042My Buddy Elliott the Usher

I’m getting packed for my trip out to California, need to get some things together and leave in a couple of hours.  I saw Elliott the Usher and a couple other friends from Harbor Park at  Baseball Card show not far from my home. It was my first time to go and I was blow away by the stuff there.  It took me down memory lane.

Emotionally I’m still trying to sort out the Fort Hood attack and pray that the shooter, Major Hasan will cooperate with investigators.  I am hoping and praying it was an isolated incident and not something more insidious.  However, it makes me wonder about safety on bases if someone like Major Hasan, or heck, someone just pissed at the military or the medical system after returning from war goes off.  There are a good number of people that I have had to deal with who not only have had suicidal thoughts and plans, but also homicidal ones, and none of them are Moslem.  Almost all had access to means to accomplish their plans and were suffering from severe PTSD or other trauma.  A few years ago while at Camp Lejuene as the duty Chaplain I was called to a house on base where a Staff NCO was threatening to kill himself and his wife.  The MPs had the place surrounded.  The individual would only talk to a chaplain so I got to go in and talk him down.  He had a Glock which he surrendered to me and then let EMS take him to the ER for a psychological evaluation.  The guy was  a mess from deployment after deployment and this was just as the present war was beginning.  We have a decent number of folks who are on the edge, and I’m sure there are others like Major Hasan who may have religious and ideological motives for what they do.

Anyway, pray for all concerned and for our Nation and its leaders.

Peace,

Padre Steve+

 

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November 6, 2009 · 23:59

Highs and Lows: Baseball versus Alzheimer’s and Mass Murder at Fort Hood

field_of_dreamsField of Dreams

This has been a weird week.  There was some great baseball in the World Series and I even nailed the prediction for it.  Just take a look back if you don’t believe me.  I have never gone public with a World Series prediction and I am pretty pleased that my predictions were pretty good considering that I am neither the Prophet nor the Son of the Prophet.  Neither am I infallible like the Pope being that I am just a miscreant Priest and member of the Church of Baseball, Harbor Park Parish where I have my season ticket in Section 102, Row B, Seat 2.

The Series was good for me, I really didn’t care who won, except that I predicted the Yankees in six based on match ups, statistics and numbers.  I’m a Giants, A’s and Orioles fan and as I sit here in my O’s hat and sweatshirt I can honestly say that I didn’t have a dog in the fight.  However to be right in analyzing the playoffs and World Series is pretty cool.  Maybe someday I will be a real sportswriter or broadcaster and get to sit opposite Jay Mariotti and Woody Paige on Around the Horn.

However, the series helped distract me in some ways for my trip home to see what I can do to help my brother with my parents.  I don’t look forward to the trip; the airports get to me now.  Thankfully I’m not going through Atlanta or Washington Dulles.  At least O’Hare has decent food and beer.  I guess the thing that gets me the most about going home this time is that my mom wants me to help go through possessions, not paperwork.  I’m thinking about years of memories that she has kept; family heirlooms and the just plain shit in some cases.  The stuff really doesn’t matter to me but it will be taxing.  Likewise the thought of seeing my dad again in his decrepit state, shrunken and mostly demented from Alzheimer’s disease is painful to think about.

johnlithgow

Yesterday morning after my on call shift I went up for my weigh in.  I gained 25 pounds since the spring, I knew that going in, I knew that I would not make the weight.  Most of the weigh came from stopping by Krispy Kreme on the way home from Harbor Park, picking up a dozen hot and fresh glazed and downing 3-4 or more with a beer before going to bed.  Of course the reason I did this was because I was emotionally spent, couldn’t sleep and couldn’t pull myself away from work.  Add stress, anxiety, no sleep, overwork, bad diet and little exercise  together and you get fat…well I get fat, I don’t know about you.  This is the first time in 28 years in the military that I have been officially fat.  I’ve always been close to the limit because the Deity Herself did not endue me with a couple of additional inches of height to help me as the military is run by the tall skinny mafia and the standards reflect that.   Until yesterday I had always made it sometimes by the skin of my teeth, but always made it.  When I was in better shape I would crush the physical fitness part of the assessment even if I was close to the weight limit.  Today after sleeping through my alarm and barely making it in to work I did the Physical Readiness Test and despite having only done 3 sessions of PT since the end of April I did better than a lot of young people, I passed, not to my usually standard of near perfection, but passing.  My diet has already been adjusted; my work schedule and duties have been rearranged to help me recover from Iraq and my return.  I’m doing more supervisory and administrative work vice the heavy clinical work in ICU.  This will give me the time that I need to do what I have not done since my return from Iraq that is to take care of me.  So I do have a sense of humor about this, I’m not going to stay fat and I am going to get my physical edge back.  I’m old but not done.  After the weigh in I thought about the episode of Third Rock from the Sun where Dick Solomon, played by John Lithglow gets fat and joins a weight loss organization called the Fat Losers. I have included the links to the episode on You Tube here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OgP2h1x2EZc

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-x0kzALQPU4

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q2tYkwhqqxs

I will keep you abreast of my journey to take this off and turn myself into a bald version of Arnold.  If anyone wants to take that journey with me let me know.  We’ll be the real “Fat Losers” and kick some ass.

fort hood shootingsGrieving Soldiers at Fort Hood

The shooting at Fort Hood yesterday shook me and the Abbess pretty bad.  For me it hit my sense of safety and security was rocked as a Moslem Army Major brutally attacked and killed 12 soldiers and an Army civilian and wounded 30 more soldiers.  I’ve mentioned in my Fort Hood updates more about how it hit me so I won’t rehash that here except that I started emotionally melting down a bit as I watched the coverage which I could not let go of.  I thought of friends that I know there and my times about Fort Hood when I was in the Army, and the thought that an officer who swore the same oath that I have committed such an atrocity in the name of his religion really got me.  If he had been an enlisted man I think my reaction would have been different, somehow when I learned that it was an officer, a psychiatrist and a Moslem floored me.  Frankly in my world officers don’t do this.  Today I was able to get with Elmer the Shrink and talk. That helped. My boss and our deputy helped take care of me today and yesterday.  On the way home I stopped by Harbor Park to take in the view of the field and relax.  Thankfully the good folks in the office allow me to do this.  It helped a lot.

harbor park opening dayMy Field of Dreams: Harbor Park

After a nice dinner with the Abbess at Gordon Biersch I did what I almost always do after such a couple of days and retreated into the world of magic that is baseball.  I put on For the Love of the Game and Field of Dreams.  Somehow those help me.  The lead character played by Kevin Costner, Billy Chapel pitches a perfect game and reminisces about his life and career.  It reminds me of possibilities even for me and Field of Dreams reminds me of all that is good, even in spite of all the evil that the world.  The baseball season may be over, but the game reaches me when nothing else can.  I looked at the diamond surrounded by the cornfields and remember when I drove to Iowa and made the trip to Dyersville just to play catch on the Field of Dreams.  I hope that when I go home that somehow I can help ease my dad’s pain in some way, and maybe just maybe have him back for a few minutes.

Me and last last picMy last Visit with Dad in May

Thank you for your prayers and encouragement.  Please keep praying for the victims and all those affected at Fort Hood.  Pray that the violent and senseless act of Major Hasan will not beget more violence.

Peace,

Padre Steve+

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November 5, 2009 · 22:08

Fort Hood Update II: The Shooter is Alive

At a news conference LTG Cone the Commander of III Corps and Fort Hood revealed that the shooter suspected in the killing of 12 soldiers and wounding of 31 others is alive and in stable condition and not dead as initially reported.  Major Malik Nidal Hasan a  psychiatrist was supposedly upset that he had orders to deploy to Iraq.

nidal hasanMajor Malik Nidal Hasan the Killer of 12 Soldiers

Once again I was correct in my suppositions about the suspect.  I was telling the Abbess at dinner that I believed that he was an American citizen who went through a commissioning program at a major university before attending medical school. Major Hasan was a graduate of Virginia Tech and its Army ROTC program before attending the Uniformed Services University of Health Sciences.  He reportedly received a poor Officer Evaluation Report (OER) at Walter Reed before being assigned to Fort Hood.  There is speculation that the he viewed his deployment to Iraq as punishment.

If Major Hasan survives his wounds the truth may come out.  Thankfully he has not as yet taken his secrets to the grave. If there is a conspiracy or other possible terrorist involvement or even a psychiatric disorder we may find an answer to the carnage and terror that his actions have caused.  It is possible that he did this simply out of being pissed at the Army for his bad OER and deployment orders and taking it out on his fellow soldiers.  The worst scenario is if is a deliberate terrorist act committed by a man committed to a radical ideology.  That suggests if an officer is capable of such an act that others may be capable of the same.  If it is a case of a provider who has hit the wall in dealing with his patients trauma it is also frightening.  If it is a case of a man who is angry at the Army for real or perceived injustices it is another matter.  The only scenario that makes sense to me is in regard to the targets of his attack.  The choice of his fellow soldiers could be indicative of the terrorist motive.  The choice of victims could also be indicative of his motivations. There are reports that Major Hasan was strongly opposed to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and also made internet postings about suicide bombings. While this is still not yet confirmed if it is true than it it could indicate terrorist involvement apart from Major Hasan.

Please pray for the victims and their friends and families.

Peace,

Padre Steve+

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