The oath

Every armed service inductee takes an oath to defend the Constitution… not people. But, regardless the branch, the oath is personal for each and a desire to protect our nation as well as loved ones. This mission exists in all of us. We have families we commit to. We have work we are responsible for. (tsk ending sentences w prepositions). We have friends who rely on us. In medical care we apply knowledge and ability daily for the good of others. We all protect and we serve.

For a man or woman who took this oath for military service, it is above and beyond what we have vowed. It is a directive that they will be a force in the face of threat. They will stand in harms way to protect a nation.

George is in exam room one on Friday. For a robust man in his seventies he looks beaten. Smoking has been long over but, as recently documented, the affects are for life and so he is suffering the consequences. Rounds of chemo have obliterated his white blood cells. Radiation is causing further insult with energy and eating. I add more medications to ameliorate symptoms to his already mountain of drugs “to help him get through”. He looks at me doubtful- even suspicious. “Hey Doc, I feel like crap”. I ought to get T shirts made. His sweet wife of over 30 years scribbles diligently on a tiny pad- it should be a big binder at this point. She is hoping that keeping the details in order will actually bring order to their lives so in disarray. They gave up their business. Put all retirement travel on hold and have no plans for holidays since cancer is a thief.

Before George leaves, I look down at the interesting hat propped on his knee. “George I see you are a veteran, Happy Veterans Day! This is an unusual hat”. George brightens up and gives me a tour: retired, Master Sargent, service branch and other symbols. He is proud, just beaten. George, like the women I mentioned a few weeks ago, just forgot. He is holding his hat in hopes it brings him courage for the battle. It will. He and his wife have tears. “Doc, will I make it out alive?” Good question. He is losing hope. “George, you are half way through. It will be rough, but if you persevere you can actually beat this. It takes tremendous fortitude and effort, but you have risen to the occasion in the past, you can be a survivor now too”.

No one has told George this. They have listed all the therapy, the side effects, the schedule, the appointments the procedures, but I believe that no one has looked at him to give him back his courage lost. I believe this serendipitous meeting today had nothing to do with radiation and everything to do with leaving no man behind.

And so this celebration of Armistice Day 11/11 at 11 o’clock that signified the end to WWI, generations still hold the candle to honor those who serve. God Bless George and all challenged by disease and suffering. God Bless our brave veterans and my own Vietnam Veteran husband. God bless the men and women who chose and continue to choose to protect and defend. Your wonderful country is filled with grateful people who do not take you for granted. Happy Veterans Day.

Veterans Day… a personal story

Jay’s face brightens when I ask, during his initial consult, if he served. While movement into community care from VA has occurred, millions more, not in the system, present for treatment with their own history invisible. Jay details service in Vietnam the same year my husband was there and seems relieved to have the dialogue opened. I listen carefully to the detailing that many offer, fifty years later- a world away from loved ones, returning to ridicule and pain. Sacrifices hidden, not celebrated and the impact still evident.

As the daughter and daughter-in-law of WWII veterans, I have managed cancer in that greatest generation with reverence. Now, my peers are moving into care and the stories hit home even harder. As college students, having my then boyfriend sent to Vietnam was an anomaly. We knew no one else serving- no family or friends. It was shocking and disorienting. There were film crews there and I watched the nightly news, holding my breath- perhaps even looking to see a glimpse. I sent letters daily- a thread – a lifeline to a world away. Two calls in the year through a ham radio operator whispering “say over” between the fragile words. The morning arrival home in civvies because the dress uniform of the young combat engineer would be ridiculed en-route returning to an ungrateful country. The loss of respect adding to the real and terrible outcome.

You may be surprised at my words today- in honor of my husband of 48 years whose quiet accepting strength never whispers of the time. When he received the Quilt of Valor and met a South Vietnam Captain who thanked him for service, was the first I heard his words of pride in his own efforts trying to rescue a country a world away. I see these men fifty years on with agent orange effects with cancer and the recall hits me like a wave. Treating these brave “boys” now is a high honor. The physician’s “laying on of hands” is a critical part of care. Can you imagine the unique privilege of arriving from a simple young eighteen year old girlfriend to the physical and also spiritual mission of working for their treatment fifty years later?

God Bless our Veterans – our young men and women who stand between each of us and evil. Your lifelong courage and sacrifice is acknowledged and you are honored and never taken for granted. The flag we are choosing to fly today says: “Home of the free because of the brave”. Thank you.