Choose Compassion

Madigan Army Hospital, one of the oldest and largest hospital systems in the military sits proudly inside the gates of JBLM (Joint Base Lewis-McChord). This place evokes a lot of different emotions for me. I spent 4 and a half years on Fort Lewis in Washington, probably driving by Madigan ten thousand times. There were only three occasions where I spent any time in there though. Each occasion completely different and completely profound. 

1.  In the military you tend to make really strong friendships when you’re going through “the suck” together. That was definitely the case for someone that I would consider my first close Army friend. Both of us 19, and very naïve but full of potential. We had just gone through Ranger Selection together and were at the current highs of our lives. We dawned our tan berets, and left Georgia for 2/75 in Washington. Then we got separated… and he started making dumb decisions. I had to step away from the friendship one night after he got wasted and punched me in the mouth for flushing his cocaine stash down the toilet. I knew that he was going to ruin his brand new Army career and I wasn’t going down that path with him. Eventually it all caught up with him and his leadership did their best to get him kicked out of the army. I was sad but truthfully it wasn’t all that unexpected. I was at church one Sunday by myself and I could feel my phone going off. Instead of answering, I turned it off and while driving back onto base I turned on and saw that I had three missed calls from him. I didn’t think much of it until I got back to the barracks and saw that there was an ambulance outside of his room. I followed the ambulance to the hospital and waited in the emergency room until someone came out and told me what was going on. I’m not sure if it was an actual suicide attempt or a call for help but he had ingested so many over-the-counter medication that his roommate found him covered in throw up, seizing on his floor. This was at 10 in the morning on a Sunday.

I will admit that we had very different upbringings, he came from a broken home and had a lot of experience dabbling in drugs and other substance. I grew up relatively sheltered in a close religious family with an extremely close group of friends whose idea of fun was getting together to play video games until our senior year of high school. I was new to this but knew that my friend needed me, and this time it wasn’t to flush his drugs. At that time he was pretty much alone. I got to witness some very toxic leadership basically force someone to the edge. An order was put out that no other Rangers were allowed to visit him which realistically meant none of his friends were allowed to visit him. Fuck that, I went every single day for two weeks until he was released. It was a strange time but I know it meant a lot to him. Every visit would go the same. I would show up and have to give all of my personal belongings to a nurse at the front. The nurse would take everything I had in my pockets to include my shoes and give me those hospital socks to wear around. Basically anything that could be used as a weapon was taken from me. I would go in and eat prepackaged salads and tuna sandwiches that were given to the patients in the ward and I would simply shoot the shit with my friend. It was weird at first. I knew what he had done and he knew what he had done but neither of us wanted to open the floor to that conversation. Until one night right before visiting hours were up he broke down to me about everything that had been going on in his brain. Stuff that I was so naïve to because I had walked away when I should’ve stepped up. Eventually he was released and was also released from the military, I feel that was a blessing in disguise. I am proud of being there for him but I definitely wish it didn’t have to come to a cry for help for that to happen. He is doing well living life in the civilian sector and that’s all I can ask for.

2. My second visit to the hospital was on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. This time it was for life. My best friends used to have me over their house constantly. I was basically their live-in friend and I made very good use of their couch. One night after a nice motorcycle trip and a good bottle of whiskey I woke up to a knock at the front door. I answered in my boxers with a mean hangover. It was my best friends parents. Talk about an awkward first impression. I swear as soon as I opened that door my friend and his wife kicked open their bedroom door and announced that her water had broken. She was going to have their baby! What crazy timing.

We all loaded up into our personal vehicles and went right to Madigan. This was going to be my first time helping anyone through childbirth and truthfully it was a experience I will never forget. At first they told me that I didn’t have to stick around and that I could go back to whatever I was doing for the weekend but honestly I was excited and humbled that they wanted me involved in the process at all. I ran out around lunchtime and got McDonald’s for basically three families. At the time I didn’t have a lot of money so this simple gesture was huge for them. I got her a chocolate milkshake and I got everyone else cheeseburgers, chicken sandwiches and french fries. Simple things that go a long way. We still talk about that to this day. Later on in that evening my friend needed some distractions in the room so I went in and we watched “Dumb and Dumber” together while his wife actively worked through labor. I’ll never forget when the birthing team came in and announced that it was time to push. I asked my friend if he still needed help or if he wanted me to leave the room and he said that he wanted me to stay, so stay I did. I was there for the whole birthing process, aside from turning around a few times I got to witness the miracle that is childbirth and it is something that I will never ever forget.

3. I lay there in my hospital bed incredibly uncomfortable and incredibly heartbroken. My existence was so uncertain at the time. I was angry that I was still completely unable to talk because I was still hooked up to the ventilator. My hospital room door was open and my dad was with me and we could hear the nurses outside talking to themselves late at night, probably assuming that we were asleep. I heard one of the Army Captains (nurse) say to the other that I was in the hospital because I had been messing around with a pistol and had shot myself in the neck. They said that they weren’t sure if it was a suicide attempt or not but that was why I was in there. I just remember looking at my dad with tears in my eyes. The fact that they were assuming that I had tried to kill myself was adding so much insult to this injury. In reality I was in the hospital because I had been shot by SOMEONE ELSE being negligent with a handgun. I would never try to hurt myself. I love my life and always have. I will always remember the emotions I had while hearing these two military officers make these assumptions about me. And not only that, this conversation made me feel like I was a burden to them. Something that I was absolutely dreading.

I will never forget listening to a full-bird Colonel chew out a couple of Captains. I had never seen an Army officer get yelled at before (I’m pretty sure that Colonel took a part of their souls that night). Up until that point I had only ever interacted with infantry officers who all seemed so infallible. I’m sure if they ever did get yelled at, that it was behind closed doors. This public display in the hospital may have been done on purpose to show my family that actions were being taken to correct the situation. Regardless it didn’t mean much to me at the time but looking back I am thankful that I got to witness this firm  discipline and this kindness from such a high-ranking officer. 

There is a lot of evil and chaos in this world. We should all try and choose compassion more often. We never know what someone else may be experiencing. It literally costs nothing to choose to be kind and respectful. Let’s try it more often!

God Bless!