The military changes people, and when that change is physical the adjustment can be especially difficult. When I first met Dave, he used to run to the gym, work out, run back and then ask me if I wanted to walk to dinner. We’d run the trails of Camp Lejeune together, swatting the swamp bugs along the way. He trained me for my first 5K, which was quite a feat since I couldn’t even run a mile when we started. Dave was definitely the fit one, while I was more like a couch potato with the appetite of a truck driver. I even managed to gain 25 pounds within our first 6 months of dating. Hawt, right?
But things changed, thanks to an injury that meant he would have his spine fused. After the surgery, we thought things would go back to normal—and the Marine Corps hoped so too. Unfortunately, the man who used to sprint around town dragging me behind him couldn’t run anymore. Doctors said he shouldn’t put “impact” on his fragile spine, or he might suffer another disc herniation . Passing a PT test wasn’t going to happen and, shortly after that, we separated from the Marine Corps.
The change came with lots of unsolicited fitness advice: “You should try swimming. That’s low impact.” Or “The elliptical is great!” and “Walking burns the same amount of calories as running if you do the same distance.” Um, thanks?
Seven years later, we are still adjusting. With the military far away in our rear view mirror, the changes are still right in front of us. Dave still can’t do the types of physical activities he enjoys most—although he does attempt them every so often. I’ve kept up with my running, for the most part, although I do often feel guilty enjoying an activity that we used to do together. If you ask him, he’ll tell you that he is lucky: “Don’t worry about me – I have all my limbs, and can lead a normal life – there are people much worse-off.” Ah perspective….
That’s why our Operation Purple Healing Adventures® has always been one of my favorite things we do at our Association. Service members, with much more serious injuries than Dave’s, attend camp with their families and try to adjust to a “new normal.” A dad, whose main activity with their kids was sports, sometimes can’t even walk.
I remember watching a double amputee try to discipline his 4 year old, while the kid ran away from him. He was no match for a fully-functioning child. I couldn’t decide whether trying to help would make it worse, so I looked away and let them handle it together as a family.
Those dealing with PTSD seemed to have an even harder time. Their families had to make adjustments about where they sat and even how loudly they spoke.
I am proud that we are able to bring wounded families to our Operation Purple Healing Adventures. Over a decade of war has taken a vicious toll on them, and these families deserve everything we can give—whether it’s help with the next phase of their lives, beginning their healing process as a family, or even to just giving them a few moments of joy.
Have you ever had to adjust your activities because of an injury? How did it go?