My Love Story

My husband was issued boots, BDU's and a gun. He left his home and joined the army, looking for a change and an opportunity. I met him multiple times in 1999, but paid no notice to him until 2000, thanks to some mutual friends.

We had dinner. I brought my child, in hopes to scare him off. I had just been dating a guy, whose temper flared, and had made me swear against dating for a while.

This new guy was different. Quiet. Polite. Quiet. There were no fireworks or stars. Just awkward silence among friends.

The next day, he had to report to the base for work. But something told me not to let this one go. Call it a gut instinct, the sixth sense...intuition.

I fell in love with him over the next few months. It was common knowledge from the beginning that he was to be shipped to Korea in December. I promised myself I would not get too attached. Army guys were a dime a dozen. They would come and go as fast as the wind changed.

I dreamed of him one night. He was standing in his army gear, at an airfield. He gave me a ring. It was really weird.

He left for home in November...that is home in Iowa. I thought we would say good-bye...maybe exchange a few phone calls. And that would be it. Little did I know, as he and his brother left me and my friend in downtown Nashville, my heart broke. You know...that can't catch my breath, choked up, don't talk to me or I will just lose it heart break. He would leave Iowa for Korea...a year long tour. When he got home to Iowa, I think his heart was breaking as mine was. He told me he loved me for the first time over the phone during that time. I was desperate to see him, just one last time. What if this was my love...my one true love leaving for overseas...and I just let him go.

I kept trying to plan a weekend meet up somewhere halfway between Iowa and Tennessee. I was in college, and weekends were my only "down time". But his family kept him busy and it seemed almost impossible. It looked hopeless. Then he called and asked me what I as doing on Dec 11. That was a Wednesday...during finals. I was bummed, as I told him I had finals. He then told me that he would be flying out to Korea, through Nashville, with a layover in Nashville, from the 11th to the 12th. If I wanted to see him, he would be at the airport...waiting.

Funny story here. He was as desperate to see me as I was to see him. As he and his mother went to the travel person to arrange flights, they were returning from town, and they saw a Buck chasing a Doe in a field. One of them noted how funny that was. Then his mom said, "Well at least the Buck isn't going to Tennessee to get it." =)

Of course I saw him that night, and saw him off the next day. Saying good-bye at the gate (back before Sept 11), putting on a brave face... I don't truly know if I was more sad for my loss of him, or of his loss of his family, friends and me. I still had my family and friends. He was journeying into an unknown world... alone.

I decided, I would rather have him this way, than to not have him at all. I knew from early in life that there was more to my future than what my town had to offer. What if this was it? I vowed to give our relationship a chance to find out.

There were phone calls and letters. He would get leave in June, and planned to come back to the states for 30 days, Just knowing he would be in the country made me happy. I finally asked him what his plans were. Would he visit his family first, come see me, etc. He laughed at me. He said that he was flying into Nashville...and then flying out of Nashville. If I could not take off work, then he would just bum around Nashville for 30 days with me. Although I thought this was a sincere lie, it made me realize how much I meant to him.

I took the whole month off work. It was just a summer job anyway. We went to Iowa for two weeks and then to Florida for a week. When he went to fly out of Nashville, back to Korea, his flight was canceled from Dallas to Korea, so he was able to stay an additional day...we called it "Bonus Time", and since he was suppose to already be gone, we weren't allowed to be sad during "Bonus Time".

He returned to Korea, with the decision to re-enlist to come back to Ft. Campbell, KY, to be close to me. Then September 11 happened. He did return to Kentucky, but spent the next year training for Operation Iraqi Freedom. The ups and downs were exhausting. His coming and going tore at my heart strings. They were packing gear and shipping their stuff via train to ports to be shipped to the Middle East. It was really going to happen. He was going to go to war. I had made it through a Korea Tour, but this was war!

He asked me to marry him early February 2003. I think his family expected us to marry before he left for the war, but we didn't. I needed something to do while he was gone. I needed something to look forward to. We all did.

I had been working a night shift, and I came home and climbed into bed when I got the call. They were shipping out to the Middle East that night. He would be packing part of the day on base, but would be at his apartment that afternoon to finish his personal packing. I drove to the base immediately. Sleeping off the night shift until he came in.

What do you say to someone who is leaving for war? How do you help him pack? How do you not cry all night long? What if he didn't come back? The unselfish thing is what I did. I wanted to make a memory. A happy one. One for him to be able to remember me by. Yes, we were losing him, but he was leaving everything.

I smiled. We laughed. We went to dinner.

I realized as I watched him pack his bags, when he packed a bunch of magazines for his gun, that this was the real thing. We drove separate to the base, and said our good-byes in the parking lot. I drove home. I was sad. But I was proud of how I had made what could have been his last day with me a pleasant one. We would see each other again. If not here in our earthly home, but in heaven if it were God's will. I knew that if he did not come home, he had made me a better person. I would be strong for him.

We would visit through the night sky. I know it sounds dumb, but there was comfort in knowing that the sun, moon and stars were the same ones that shown on him. Even if I could not go to him myself, the stars and moon would soon be with him, and with them, my love.

It was a long year. He came home February 2004. We were given a series of possible dates his plane would arrive, basically putting us on-call for their arrival. When the day came, we had to be at the base at 5 am to catch buses to an airfield. We were at the airfield before the sun came up. We waited, as the sun rose. Then the planes came in. There were two. Hundreds of us lined a short fence barricade, as the planes unloaded. The soldiers were to get off the plane, line up in formation. We were to listen to a short speech, then they would dismiss them to greet loved ones.

There were a couple hundred soldiers at least. They all looked the same. Same BDU's, same hair cuts, same tans. Until they were right up in front of your face, you could not tell if this soldier was your loved one of theirs. The line passed us as families and friends cheered, held signs and waved flags. It was the end of the second plane when he saw me. Before I could register his familiar face, he had dropped his bags and came over and took me in his arms in what I have to admit, was one of the best embraces of my life! I have a photo of that moment somewhere. But I had already seen this image before. Many years ago. In my dream. This was the airfield of my dreams in the early days of our relationship. I didn't want to tell him he was the only one that broke formation to come to me.

He returned to formation. Once they dismissed them, I made my way across the hanger. His helmet was on the floor, where I noticed he had pictures of me and my son taped to the inside of his helmet. He had kept us with him always.

We returned home, and over the next few months, planned the wedding and the big move up north here. Our blended family has been blessed with the addition of Andrew in 2006.

It is easy to forget where we all began. We get so caught up in the everyday problems, and turn them into big problems. We forget the challenges that we have endured to be together. Or at least I do. I wanted to share this with others, as I am reliving these memories as I write them. I think I needed the reminder.


Angie

I almost died

I had plans. I was over weight, and I knew I needed to do something to save my life. I have 2 wonderful boys. I wanted to play with them. Do things on the floor, be able to participate in their lives. I watched my father miss out on his life from being trapped within the confines of his obese body. I was going to change my life.

The journey to get the surgery was hard. If the program said jump...I had to ask how high? If I needed to dance a jig, then I did it. The physical and psychological assessments were continuous, while making lifestyle changes that needed to be continued for the rest of my life. I had made the decision to change my life.

The day came. Surgery was imminent. We checked in. My husband with me. The kids in their designated locations. We were shown to a room. A gown for me. A tour for my husband. I get an IV. I remember talking with old nursing friends. I am having surgery at the hospital where I work.

Then it is foggy. Apparently I went to surgery, and the night passed with little excitement. I vaguely remember being in my bed. I am just tired. Then I remember coughing up blood. No one was around. So I called the nurse. This was no little spit up occasion. It was a blood clot the size of a kidney. The nurse told me that some bleeding was normal. The look on her face told me that she was a liar.

I was rushed to the ICU. I apparently made phone calls to my husband and friend, explaining to them in my most incomprehensible manner that "something bad" was happening.

I remember doctors being around,with urgency in their tones. Someone mentioned my heart rate was high, as I then looked over my shoulder to see the monitor, where my thumper was racing at 160 beats per minute. Then I was sick. That can't catch my breath, gag in my stomach, blood retching out of my mouth. The urgency in their voices continues. Then it i mentioned to intubate me, with medications that will stop me from throwing up. They lay be flat...and I feel the needle go into my neck, filled with Lidocaine. Yes...this is happening to me. Where is my family?

I say a prayer right there...Dear Lord, please take care of these doctors and nurses who are caring for me, and give them the knowledge and strength to fix this.

I wake up, some time later....in a fog. I don't hurt. I'm just trapped. Literally. My hands are tied to my side, and my mouth unable to form words. My worst fear. I am intubated, on a breathing tube, in the ICU. Fuck! What happened?

I need to get this tube out...where is everyone?

I spent the next 3 days trying to convince the medical professionals to get that tube out of my throat. I was told many times that I wasn't sick enough for their attention at that time. I has a breathing tube for a child in my mouth, and I knew I could not meet their "protocol" for extubation. I am an ICU nurse! I knew too much for comfort. I had an escape plan. I was ready to take the tube out myself. I was telling my husband to call patient affairs. I needed an intervention.

I had bled out. All of my blood was draining into my new stomach and I proceeded to puke it up...all of it. They had to transfuse me, and redo the surgery, cleaning out all the blood from my abdomen. It was extensive. I looked like and 8 year old had gone to town with a staple gun on my stomach. I came in a fat ass needed weight loss surgery, and ended up 25 pounds heavier being fluid resecutated.

I spent 12 days in the hospital. I ended up with a wound infection, and even after all my transfusions, my blood levels were still only half what they should have been. They had to open my abdomen, getting the infection out. I went home, beaten and bruised. A hole in my stomach. We had to pack it. It looked like someone had shot me in the abdomen with a shot gun, and sent me home. It was bright red and meaty. From below my breast to my belly button, you could see in to my stomach.

I almost died. I was saved. All to try and better my quality of life for myself and family. Die trying...right?

Angie