Today (11/11/2011) at 11:11 am, hubby and I looked at otters online here, here, and here while waiting for Skyrim to install on his computer. We had to get a new graphics card for his computer, but no big whoop and the game looks gorgeous.
Today was also Nigel Tufnel Day, because hello, today was turned up to 11.
Today marked Veterans Day and I smiled at all of the thanks and memories floating across my Facebook feed. I was particularly happy to see that former U.S. Marine Scott Olsen (the guy critically injured at Occupy Oakland several weeks ago) is now out of the hospital. However, I was a bit disturbed to read an article mentioning his administrative discharge and website for Marines to vent about the Marine Corps. Mental health of our troops really needs to be addressed more than it is now. I know several retired military members who've had difficulties with PTSD and I worry for the families with relatives fighting overseas these days since they'll likely deal with it as well.
The mental thing brought my dad to mind. He retired many years ago from the U.S. Air Force as a Technical Sergeant and passed away in early 2006 from a hypertensive heart attack. This happened after a few years of not speaking to me or my sister, likely due to some form of dementia. The last time I saw him was in early 2004, and when he opened his door he saw bald-headed me rockin' a denim bucket hat next to my husband. He talked for a few seconds - basically hi and sorry I didn't get the door sooner but I was in the bathroom - and then he shut the door in my face. That was kind of a shocker, especially as we'd traveled 200 miles to see him (and others), but the antisocial behavior was expected so we left after a few seconds of standing there stunned.
When I was 9 or 10, he told me about something in our family turning people into agoraphobic hermits later in life, and how he didn't want "to go out like that." I'd figured this was what was going on, so was kinda comforted but was really sad that I couldn't do anything to help. I know he liked the care he was getting at the local VA hospital, since he'd expressed that to me when I was in high school. His medical records show that he was a mostly compliant patient but he skipped his last routine appointment if I remember correctly. From what we gathered, he decided to give up on life and rationalized killing himself without directly killing himself. He'd sold his car, and in a prominent place was a newspaper clipping featuring a red circle drawn around a good deal for a gravesite or funeral arrangements or something related anyway. His food consisted of Chinese delivery orders plus saltine crackers and canned chili ordered and delivered through Walgreens. The number of meticulously cleaned styrofoam containers and large cardboard boxes mailed to him astonished us.
I kinda wish I'd gotten his hard drives but I was too icked out to want to deal with any of his computer stuff then, since his body was found a few weeks after he died.* Normally I wouldn't have been fazed but at the time I was working in the disaster preparedness field relating to hospital bioterrorism, so things I'd learned about public health situations froze me a bit. It didn't occur to me until weeks later that I could've asked someone to take care of that for me, but everything in his apartment was long tossed or given away by then. I sometimes wonder if there was anything important on his computer that would explain what was going on in his mind. I'd thought about that at the time but my germaphobe brain rationalized that it was unlikely due to mental deterioration and no password laid out in obvious sight like the newspaper clipping. I still wonder about it though.
I also wonder if he just never recovered after losing mom to metastatic cervical cancer back in late 1988, even though he went on with his life. He dated two women for years, and one of them wanted to marry him but he refused to since he didn't want to get married again at all. We found that he'd saved a hairbrush (with some of mom's hair still in it) along with several other things, including old photos and a cassette tape that likely contained a recording of her voice. There were so many questions we couldn't answer about the whole situation, but we handled it as best as we could. It's definitely difficult to be there for someone when the someone keeps protective walls up for who knows what reasons. It's even more difficult when it's a family member and you've done all you possibly can to help.
This Veterans Day, I'm sad for the veterans who aren't receiving proper care whether on active duty or retired. There have been some improvements in the VA system but I still shudder when I think of stories I've heard over the years. To all veterans, thank you for your service, and don't be afraid to ask for help when you need help. No one will think any less of you.
* I'll refrain from getting into the way grody details, even though that stuff fascinates me, but the rest of this is for anyone interested: I didn't go into his bedroom to see his body (hubby and brother-in-law insisted I stay back), and the only apparent funk was on the carpet where a foot was touching. He'd collapsed onto his bed after perhaps walking there from the living room, since the TV was on when the welfare check started. Thankfully, his apartment was well sealed, and there were no maggots even though it had been a few weeks since death occurred. That was a happy surprise.
Today was also Nigel Tufnel Day, because hello, today was turned up to 11.
Today marked Veterans Day and I smiled at all of the thanks and memories floating across my Facebook feed. I was particularly happy to see that former U.S. Marine Scott Olsen (the guy critically injured at Occupy Oakland several weeks ago) is now out of the hospital. However, I was a bit disturbed to read an article mentioning his administrative discharge and website for Marines to vent about the Marine Corps. Mental health of our troops really needs to be addressed more than it is now. I know several retired military members who've had difficulties with PTSD and I worry for the families with relatives fighting overseas these days since they'll likely deal with it as well.
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| Thanks to the Vietnam War, my dad got to kick ass in the air. I was born later in the year awarded so I like to think I saved him from being more involved with it. |
When I was 9 or 10, he told me about something in our family turning people into agoraphobic hermits later in life, and how he didn't want "to go out like that." I'd figured this was what was going on, so was kinda comforted but was really sad that I couldn't do anything to help. I know he liked the care he was getting at the local VA hospital, since he'd expressed that to me when I was in high school. His medical records show that he was a mostly compliant patient but he skipped his last routine appointment if I remember correctly. From what we gathered, he decided to give up on life and rationalized killing himself without directly killing himself. He'd sold his car, and in a prominent place was a newspaper clipping featuring a red circle drawn around a good deal for a gravesite or funeral arrangements or something related anyway. His food consisted of Chinese delivery orders plus saltine crackers and canned chili ordered and delivered through Walgreens. The number of meticulously cleaned styrofoam containers and large cardboard boxes mailed to him astonished us.
I kinda wish I'd gotten his hard drives but I was too icked out to want to deal with any of his computer stuff then, since his body was found a few weeks after he died.* Normally I wouldn't have been fazed but at the time I was working in the disaster preparedness field relating to hospital bioterrorism, so things I'd learned about public health situations froze me a bit. It didn't occur to me until weeks later that I could've asked someone to take care of that for me, but everything in his apartment was long tossed or given away by then. I sometimes wonder if there was anything important on his computer that would explain what was going on in his mind. I'd thought about that at the time but my germaphobe brain rationalized that it was unlikely due to mental deterioration and no password laid out in obvious sight like the newspaper clipping. I still wonder about it though.
I also wonder if he just never recovered after losing mom to metastatic cervical cancer back in late 1988, even though he went on with his life. He dated two women for years, and one of them wanted to marry him but he refused to since he didn't want to get married again at all. We found that he'd saved a hairbrush (with some of mom's hair still in it) along with several other things, including old photos and a cassette tape that likely contained a recording of her voice. There were so many questions we couldn't answer about the whole situation, but we handled it as best as we could. It's definitely difficult to be there for someone when the someone keeps protective walls up for who knows what reasons. It's even more difficult when it's a family member and you've done all you possibly can to help.
This Veterans Day, I'm sad for the veterans who aren't receiving proper care whether on active duty or retired. There have been some improvements in the VA system but I still shudder when I think of stories I've heard over the years. To all veterans, thank you for your service, and don't be afraid to ask for help when you need help. No one will think any less of you.
* I'll refrain from getting into the way grody details, even though that stuff fascinates me, but the rest of this is for anyone interested: I didn't go into his bedroom to see his body (hubby and brother-in-law insisted I stay back), and the only apparent funk was on the carpet where a foot was touching. He'd collapsed onto his bed after perhaps walking there from the living room, since the TV was on when the welfare check started. Thankfully, his apartment was well sealed, and there were no maggots even though it had been a few weeks since death occurred. That was a happy surprise.
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