When I joined the Marine Corps I was pretty skinny. I didn't feel skinny, but people (especially older women) kept telling me to eat more. And that my friends was the problem, I did eat and I ate everything. I never needed to eat healthy, not that I wanted to eat healthy mind you. Healthy for some reason seems to mean "not taste good." I'm sure some of must taste good and there is probably some it the maybe will fill up, but for me it's never been on the table.
As life progressed for me it seemed that the only part of me that grew consistently was my shoulders and my ego. It seemed that every few months I had to keep getting my dress and service jackets re tailored for my shoulders. I went 17 years in the Marine Corps until I had to get my waist tailored. SEVENTEEN YEARS!
So basically I was 35ish went my waist went passed the 29 inch mark. That really pisses people off. I mean like it's the end of the fucking world, pisses people off like state. I would hear crap like I don't know how to appreciate such a thing or life is not fair. I never did figure out why it's my fault my parents had sex and "poof" I get these genetics. [ Not part of this story: I also got this odd internal body health gene where stuff like blood pressure and heart rate is always "good/great no matter what.]
Well the good part is now, this part of my life (after the Corps) it doesn't matter anymore. I'm still below my max weight, which is also a sore subject with people, but doesn't really matter anymore. Yea!
If you haven't guessed my health is now a priority, my maybe I sinned against the healthy fairy or killed the angel of good health, but my health like weight, physical ability, mental, and spiritual health has gone to fucking shit.
Back to the thesis, I've grown and I don't remember how it happened. I am no longer that skinny kid from nowhere-ville. Now I'm the skinny kid with a small "ladies" basketball inside my stomach who has been to 37 countries (2 that don't exist anymore). I guess I'm cultured.
Does anyone remember how they got here? No one started off "here" but somehow we all got here.
One score ago and an over confident young boy, entered the United States Marine Corps. I entered the Marine Corps for a change. That was not one of the tablets presented to me by my recruiter. In fact, he made me pick 3 and after much debate I picked three. I have no idea what picked, I just remember it was stupid. I mean why pick reasons to join, I drove myself to the recruiters station. I was in Milwaukee going to University Wisconsin - Milwaukee and was enrolled in the school of architecture. I partied alot, not like what is glamored in stupid movies you see, I had "call the cops and the fire department" parties. I actually got kicked out of the dorms twice for my behavior and the behavior I inctied. Just after my 19th birthday and some time spent in the drunk tank in the Milwaukee County jail, I realized that if I didn't do something different I was going to be dead before I reach 30. I also knew I needed help.
So after sobering up a little(the Wisconsin version) I opened up the Greater Milwaukee phone book, found the closest recruiting station and drove down to it. I was forced to take a 10 question test and Aced it, then they wanted me to take a longer 50 question test and Aced it as well. I guess they thought I was either lying about my educational background or just thought I was cheating some how. I was asked when I took my ASVAB and like everyone else I knew it was my junior year in high school. They looked up my results and said I could pick any job I wanted but had join before my 2 year anniversary of the test. I told them I could do better, I just was happy to not be in class and didn't take it seriously, but they we adamant that I didnt. They must have thought I was going to do worse, now looking back, I wish I did take it over. So thinking about future job placement I picked Aviation Electrician which I was told I couldn't be that exact so it was going to be a 59 hundred or 64 hundred field or MOS (military occupational specialty) and I got it in writing.
I know many people that told me that their recruiter fucked them over or didn't tell them how it was going to be. I didnt have that problem and chock that up to people not listening and not reading their contract and then asking for it to be fixed. My recruiter told me exactly how it was going to be. A good example, a friend of mine was going to join the reserves and wanted to join after his birthday on the 25th. Supposedly he was to ship out on the 31st, but since he didn't read it or ask it to be fixed he shipped out on the 13th. I laughed my ass off then and still do everytime I think about it.
I had many contracts by that time in my life, rental, university related, gas, electric, phone, well you get the idea. Now when I entered the Marine Corps there were computers but not like the ones have today. Most were used for accounting or some other number based idea. Before you yell at your screen with Comadore or Atari, that was not what someone today was a computer. We had typewriters (tap, tap, tap, ding!) and if you wanted copies you used carbon paper or you typed alot more. The more expensive ones had a write out feature but that didn't work every time and contacts had to be white out free. There was a gunny (Gunnery Sergeant or GySgt) that did the typing and every time I asked for a correction he got a darker shade of red. I thought it was funny and I giggled a little which did not help things. I had three complete rewrites. Then I was satisfied. My ship out date was supposed to be February 5th, I picked that time period because I wanted to finish out my semester in college and I had NIN (Nine Inch Nails) tickets in January and wasn't going to miss that.
February 4th rolls around and I get picked up from my recruiter and had to have some more processing. Paperwork, drug tests stuff like that. I got a couple of tickets since then and that had to be cleared first. That took a couple of days, then my first day became February 7th, 1995.
My story from there turned into a wild ride. Many ups and many downs, but I wouldn't have changed a thing. The Marine Corps helped me understand national pride, how the system really works, and teamwork. I get choked up when I here the National Anthem or Marine Corps Hymn. And I get it and want you to get it too.
The world for me has changed dramaticly from when I started writing this blog. After many injuries and many times I toughed it out (for some macho idea) without seeing a doctor when getting injured at the time. Some advice to the younger alpha males, there is no shame seeing help when injured. Even if someone insists you are only "hurt" not injured. Putting mud on it or using duct tape never works.
I do not cry wolf, in fact, I was literally dragged in to see a doctor. I have many injuries ranging from loss of dexterity to seeing things that no one else sees. At the VA's count 40 plus injuries, 14 for the Marine Corps. What I have cried for is help. The hope was my brothers would take care of me if it gets bad, that is not the truth. But that is another story, I'll tell it some other day.
I need AACs, Augmented and Alternative Communication devices. I'm using a voice to text currently, but it sucks. It takes me 5 to 10 minutes to "write" a sentence they way I just said it, and don't get me started on punctuation. My wife types most of my things for me nowadays.
I need work done to my home and I don't need to tell you that the money fairy doesn't visit me and my wife. I can't work, she can't leave me for long periods to work. She does my ADLs, activities of daily living. For those layman's out there, eating, bathing, peeing, number 2s, brushing my teeth, shaving my face, I think you get the idea( I hope.).
We live in a home built in the 40s, so we have old home problems. I can only using my motorized wheelchair in half the house, in the rest my wife transfers me to a small stool with wheels and hope for the best. Doesn't always work as planned. We have roof that should have been replaced 8 or so years ago, we have electrical problems in two rooms, we have plumbing issues, and many others. I listed the big ones for your reading pleasure.
Now, getting help. It would easier if (these are all and/or situations, I listed this way for ease) we made less than 20 grand, not white, civilian, lived on a farm, bought the house after 2009 but before 2011, lived in a crappy neighborhood, blind, deaf, missing (visible) limbs, have parents that are dead, came from a broken home or couldn't pay the mortgage. Again, those are the big ones.
Now let's say my long lost uncle died and gave me 10 large ones. Do we spend it on a new roof or get a new wheelchair (which we need also)? Or save it because hoping for the best has not worked out for us either. Getting someone else to do a job, that could have done prior to injury, is horribly expensive. And my wife could probably do most of it, if she didn't have care for me. On to itself is a double edged sword, if she is injured then we're both screwed twice as hard.
Now here is the kicker, everytime we have asked for help it backfired on us. I have been threatened several times, my wife has been threatened and I have been warned if I keep asking for help I may lose my rank or worse administratively separated. Everytime I think I we should go to the IG (inspector general) we are reminded of the incident in my last unit, nothing happened to the bad guys and we were sent away to this unit with no result.
The only good part of my unit is the Wounded Warriors. Not the staff or the officers or the civilian horde. Only the injured Marines. We have recieved more help and heart via my injured brothers. Got to think that's funny, if you weren't injured.
As far as Organizations go, the Semper Fi Fund has been awesome! The DAV has helped! That's it.
The Wounded Warrior Project is a Ponzi scheme. As much money that is funneled to them, you would think they would help, NOPE, got a T-shirt and once a year we get stickers. Not that we haven't asked. And if they do return our call it'll be an email 6 months later, but no help just lip service. If you look at their Financials you can see the top 6 get millions a year, and the top 20 get hundreds of thousands. Not a one of them are in a wheelchair or missing an arm or missing a lung. It pisses me off!
So long story short, don't give in to the peer pressure and give to an organization that doesn't really help. You don't have to take my word, do your own research. That's what Google is for. My advice is to go to Charity Navigator. Lots of information, lots of reviews and lots of insight.
