SAN ANTONIO — Recently, I was diagnosed with cancer and sent to Brooke Army Medical Center here for treatment.
I was terrified at what I might be facing and unsettled about leaving my home in Germany for treatment. It seemed a long way to go for what I had hoped could be taken care of at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center. However, LRMC staff assured me this was the best decision for my circumstances.
Brooke Army Medical Center is part of the San Antonio Military Medical Center, which includes BAMC and Wilford Hall, the Air Force equivalent.
Here, you find some of the most highly trained doctors, nurses and medical staff in the military.
You also find a large population of servicemembers in various stages of recovery from combat-related injuries.
I knew this when I found out I’d be coming here, and I was worried about facing this reality of war. I was also worried about what those already here would think about me — a military spouse — taking up space in this predominantly military treatment facility.Living near Landstuhl, you frequently see injured servicemembers, but for the most part you only see the recently injured, healing enough to be sent back to the U.S. for further recovery and treatment.
Here in Texas, however, I saw a whole new side to the spirit of our military.
I lived in a hotel room across the street from the hospital on the medical complex, and my hotel was surrounded by Fisher Houses. Every day when I left my room, I saw someone who lost a limb or was bandaged from serious wounds. These servicemembers were still recovering long after they’d left Landstuhl.
Sometimes they were alone, sometimes they had their families with them. But they always had their heads held high and a smile on their faces. They became a close knit group here — a family.
They wore different services’ uniforms, but they greeted each other as though they’d been together for years. The spouses hugged and talked about the latest news in their lives. The kids played like brothers and sisters.
The good-natured rivalry between services no longer existed. The only joking here was about who walked with more of a limp. They learned to talk openly about their injuries, sharing their progress with one another and even with the occasional stranger brave enough to ask.
Shortly after I arrived, I sat in a waiting area with several of these wounded warriors. I listened as they talked about their third, fourth and even seventh surgeries. No one cried or whined. It was evident the warrior spirit extended infinitely past the battlefield. That spirit was fighting in each of these military members to recover.
I watched as young wives lovingly supported their spouses in a way you typically see in a couple that has spent decades together. You could see in their eyes it didn’t matter that their husbands wouldn’t get out of that wheelchair. These spouses had warrior spirit too.
The medical staff was equally amazing. How do you face this much pain and suffering each day without having some kind of depression? I didn’t see any of that — just the deepest compassion.
I’m not sure which came first. Was it the compassion of the medical staff that lifted the spirits of the servicemembers and their families, or was it the other way around? I couldn’t figure it out, but decided it didn’t matter. Their morale was high and their spirits were strong, and that’s what’s important.
In conversations with medical personnel and other families, they would usually ask why I was there, and their reaction upon hearing my answer was always the same: compassion and support. I was given the same level of commitment and caring as all of our wounded warriors, and the families were just as willing to accept us into to their group.
Watching the warrior spirit at work has made my own situation a lot less scary.
I laughed when maybe I should have been crying and talked when maybe I should have been brooding. And my marriage became stronger when maybe it should have become more stressed.
That warrior spirit has rubbed off on my family too, and I’m so thankful I was there to receive it.
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SAN ANTONIO — Recently, I was diagnosed with cancer and sent to Brooke Army Medical Center here for treatment.
I was terrified at what I might be facing and unsettled about leaving my home in Germany for treatment. It seemed a long way to go for what I had hoped could be taken care of at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center. However, LRMC staff assured me this was the best decision for my circumstances.
Brooke Army Medical Center is part of the San Antonio Military Medical Center, which includes BAMC and Wilford Hall, the Air Force equivalent.
Here, you find some of the most highly trained doctors, nurses and medical staff in the military.
You also find a large population of servicemembers in various stages of recovery from combat-related injuries.
I knew this when I found out I’d be coming here, and I was worried about facing this reality of war. I was also worried about what those already here would think about me — a military spouse — taking up space in this predominantly military treatment facility.Living near Landstuhl, you frequently see injured servicemembers, but for the most part you only see the recently injured, healing enough to be sent back to the U.S. for further recovery and treatment.
Here in Texas, however, I saw a whole new side to the spirit of our military.
I lived in a hotel room across the street from the hospital on the medical complex, and my hotel was surrounded by Fisher Houses. Every day when I left my room, I saw someone who lost a limb or was bandaged from serious wounds. These servicemembers were still recovering long after they’d left Landstuhl.
Sometimes they were alone, sometimes they had their families with them. But they always had their heads held high and a smile on their faces. They became a close knit group here — a family.
They wore different services’ uniforms, but they greeted each other as though they’d been together for years. The spouses hugged and talked about the latest news in their lives. The kids played like brothers and sisters.
The good-natured rivalry between services no longer existed. The only joking here was about who walked with more of a limp. They learned to talk openly about their injuries, sharing their progress with one another and even with the occasional stranger brave enough to ask.
Shortly after I arrived, I sat in a waiting area with several of these wounded warriors. I listened as they talked about their third, fourth and even seventh surgeries. No one cried or whined. It was evident the warrior spirit extended infinitely past the battlefield. That spirit was fighting in each of these military members to recover.
I watched as young wives lovingly supported their spouses in a way you typically see in a couple that has spent decades together. You could see in their eyes it didn’t matter that their husbands wouldn’t get out of that wheelchair. These spouses had warrior spirit too.
The medical staff was equally amazing. How do you face this much pain and suffering each day without having some kind of depression? I didn’t see any of that — just the deepest compassion.
I’m not sure which came first. Was it the compassion of the medical staff that lifted the spirits of the servicemembers and their families, or was it the other way around? I couldn’t figure it out, but decided it didn’t matter. Their morale was high and their spirits were strong, and that’s what’s important.
In conversations with medical personnel and other families, they would usually ask why I was there, and their reaction upon hearing my answer was always the same: compassion and support. I was given the same level of commitment and caring as all of our wounded warriors, and the families were just as willing to accept us into to their group.
Watching the warrior spirit at work has made my own situation a lot less scary.
I laughed when maybe I should have been crying and talked when maybe I should have been brooding. And my marriage became stronger when maybe it should have become more stressed.
That warrior spirit has rubbed off on my family too, and I’m so thankful I was there to receive it.