Peace thru Sacrifice and Determination

Every Tuesday morning an ending, and a new

Beginning. We all have a different story, but 

We are all one and the same. They say we have 

A disorder, but we have a disease. There is no 

Cure, but we come here to learn how to fight it.

Whether we are soldiers, sailors, airmen or 

Marines; We have been where others feared to

Tread. Some of us signed up to do the job, for

The 'Nam Guys most were chosen by their dear

Friends and Neighbors. Some friends to have, huh?

In a way, it is like going back to basic training or 

Reporting to a new unit. A few hours or a day or 

Two, and you have made new buddies that will be

Friends for life. We share our stories privately, the 

Smoke room is sanctuary and it's walls guard us.

201 is our second home, and we spend hours in 

Group. Sara, Corey, Doctor Rod and Katey give

us skills for our new battle that our more important to

Saving our lives. Becky has grief & loss, and battle 

Weary warriors are brought to tears by haunting pasts.

The nurses have the toughest job of all. They are with 

Us round the clock and on weekends. Whether we are 

With them for two weeks or two months, they get to 

Know us and then they have to say good-bye. Yet They

All give us everything that they have everyday we're there.

Thanks to the couselors, nurses, and staff of the Jack H Wisby Jr. Clinic

and to my roommate William, Bill Patton, Bob Clifford, Uncle Bob, Jerry, Tom Marcello,

Brian Tromblee, Uncle Brian, John Portik, John Mortsok

Batavia

I never took it seriously in and acted like it
Was all a game. Humor kept me from the 
Thoughts of what would happen when if I 
Made a mistake. I loved the Husky the best,
Because then it was me alone. Only I paid.

It was never a thought of the future, and what
It would be like. The nightmares were already
There, and I came home with all my parts so 
I was fine. Then it all began, and it has gotten 
Worse. The sensitivity to lights, the headaches
And the lying that pain means I'm alive still.

It really means I am just stuck in a living hell, 
Some people look at me, and think that he is 
Fine. Others say he is just crazy, because I have
PTSD as well. They don't understand that the 
brain damage is something that I am stuck with.

I won't ever forget the day that my neurologist
told me that I am likely to be a legal junkie by 
The time I am 50. There are times that It makes 
Me think of giving up. I have 12 years and I am 
fighting because I am a warrior not just a soldier.

I have to remember that I can't feel sorry for me
Because I can still get out fo bed in the morning.
I am also blessed with a wonderful family, and 
The best friends, doctors and nurses to support 
Me that any veteran could ever ask for, THANKS GUYS.