The Broken Soldier

…you mother fuckers!

Just kidding. I’m not mad at Gay Sex or Stetson, as in the cologne, which is also gay, but more in the way undernurished and undereducated kids from Boston use the term, it’s just fun to play around with you. Damn it. I wanted to call you guys “retards,” but I’ve already cut a fairly large and deep thalweg of cross-demographic offense today. What the fuck does that last sentence mean? Anyway, just a couple few things.

Names. I’m sorry my given name - as family lore has it, an Anglicized Cherokee word meaning, “first-born son,” doesn’t fit your conception of Army tough guy-ness(?). ish? ly? It’s true, Jimison is nowhere near as fear-inducing as “Vest.” Or “Lamb.” Or “Patrick Frank!” Two first names? I’d give your parents style points if they had named you “Jones Frank,” or “Ball Park Frank.” That would at least demonstrate ‘outside-the-box’ baby-naming thinking. You might as well not even exist dude. And “Lamb?” Pffff. What’s your first name, “Giant, hairless vagina?” “Vest?” Nothing inspires reverence like the name of an Eddie Bauer product one would expect to find mingled among tube socks, old chocolate, bad aftershave (like Stetson, for example), a single Steve Madden dress sandal (still with the anti-theft tag on it), a Sham-how? (an imitation Sham Wow!; Sham Wow! is in no way affiliated with the Broken Soldier, and in no way agrees, disagrees, or condones his writing, thinking, or smell), and a clip-on book light in a TJ Maxx super-been-here-too-long clearance table.

Woooooo! I come here to preach today!

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/telegraphchristmasappeal/4348791/Charity-appeal-how-brain-scans-show-the-trauma-of-war.html

The above is not at all funny or meant to be. Unless you think brain trauma is funny. Which, oddly, I don’t. Possibly because there’s so much of it around here. And the way it affects these young men and women. It’s heart-breaking.

Homophobia. There’s nothing funny about homophobia, that is, unless you have a sense of humor. It’s rampant in the Army. (Homophobia, not humor. Just wanted to be clear on that point.) I imagine all the services. Except the Navy (ah thank you, ah thank you). For my gay audience, I mean you Bruce, I belong to a religious order, The Order of St. John’s the Beloved, composed mostly of gay men. (But you already knew that Bruce.) I’d direct you to our website, but we don’t have one. My wife is too busy with work to make us one, and changing my screen-saver puts me way out of my computer science depth. Will link later.

In the words of my cognitive father, “that’s about all I want to say bout that.”

Peace,

Jimison

Here on Ft. Knox, the Army is closed today due to inclement weather. “Ihhhhh, there’s ice on the ground. My mangina’s cold. To the cave!” Spare me the soldier tough guy bullshit Gay Sex and Stetson.

“I agree. If you’ve never completed any initial Army training how can you call yourself a Soldier? Only those that complete Army basic training or an equivalnet can be called Soldiers. You were a Navy or USAF slug, hardly a Soldier. Did you do one week or two before you washed out? Look at all the links you have to the right. All impune the Army and the services. There is no way in the world all conspired against you. The odds are astronomycal and not possible. You must be the problem. I know your type, loud mouthed, critical and lazy. You are weak emotionally and nothing is your fault. Everybody is out to screw poor Jimmerson, (nice name by the way). If you had an ounce of honor and decency you’d quit the belly achin and act like a man. Am I wrong about you? Really? I bet you have no intention on keeping a real job. Who’d want to hire someone with your attitude? If you are as smart as you claim, (smarter than neuro surgeons), then what the F are you doin joining the Army? Don’t tell me. You are a patriot. My ASS!!! You are a fraud lookin for a pension. You suck!”

-Hugh/Gay Sex, Michigan

I love this. Wow. Keep them coming guys. Earl Hughes. Big brother to James Stetson I presume?

Initial Army Training. You mean like the Warrior Transition Course? http://www.armystudyguide.com/content/Prep_For_Basic_Training/warrior_transition_course_information/index.shtml

Yeah. I passed that. Real tough by the way. I recall in-processing at Fort Sill. Lots of smiling privates (I love that cuz it sounds so dirty). Get over yourself “Earl.” Ditto on the name. You write like a bang bang, so I’ll break this down, nice and slow, for future reference. It’s “Jimison.” J-I-M-I-S-O-N. Not Jimmerson, Gettysburg, Hossenfeffer, or Gimmesum.

Washed out? No? Still in actually. At Fort Knox. You want to visit? We can have a snuggle in my room, and then Indian leg wrestle if you want? Keep your erection to yourself by the way. There are rules to this event. Is English your first language?

Yes, Hugh, that’s your assigned name from now on (which means you can now have gay sex at the truck stop without guilt or embarrassment and will henceforth be used interchangeably with the phrase ‘gay sex’), I ‘impune’ a system that cripples those it’s meant to help.

You’ve got me pegged. Oh yeah, and Hugh (gay sex), 1SG says you’re only gay if you push back. Food for thought. I know it’s troubling you and your gay kids (who’re so gay they’re the takers every time). For my regular readers, I’m not a homophobe, I just know Hugh is and that this association will bother him. Possibly in a good way. A life-changing way. The more outted gay men out there, the more action, hey fellas? Right? Right? RIGHT?

Actually Hugh, I’m quite reserved and shy. Only when I get to know someone do I open up (as your eldest son’s buttocks in anticipation for quintuple anal), and come anywhere on the rez close to fitting the description you’ve so wittily inked. By the way, do any of you think before you type this shit? You realize what you write will now and forever be public record? JR, you think he’s got TBI maybe? Do you submit your comments, as clever as anything a mid brain can concoct, and the boss part of your brain goes, “Holy shit, did I just post that?” And you begin a frenzied attempt to back space, you go too far, and your wife glaces over and sees the gay websites you visit? Ah, Jesus, that sounds terrible Hugh. Just come out dude. Daisy dukes. A mesh half shirt. A whistle. $100 tops (probably two to three of your paychecks, but come on, live a little). And you’re free.

On that note, if the things I said weren’t true, do you not think (entendre unintended), being that I am on active duty, that I’d be subject to UCMJ action (for slander, libel, calumny, malingering, etc., and don’t think for one moment my home state command doesn’t read here), or at a minimum, some sort of lock and sock party? Yeah. Food for the fledgling mind.

Jobs. Yeah. I’d be happy to send you my CV. I started working at age five. My maternal grandfather bought a push mower for me, with the condition that I pay him back once I earned the money. I cut all my neighbors’ lawns for about two bits a pop. With that ‘job,’ I bought most all of my own clothes and shoes and whatever else. Meaning, Hugh, since you seem pretty thick, I’ve been working for a living for pretty much my entire life. So yeah, you’ve hit the nail on the head re: ‘poor Jimmerson.’

Having passed a series of courses leading to a professional title ‘neurosurgeon’ is not the same as native and or measurable intelligence. Yeah. You’re gay. Have I mentioned that? You also seem to think only dumb people join the military. Or at least, the cream of crop, so to speak (I know when anyone mentions ‘cream’ your butt hole quivers, sorry), avoid the military. Good thinking Hugh (gay sex). Textbook self-loather. Man you better get right with Jesus. Phelps says Rapture’s coming.

Pension. Yeah. People with less than, I don’t know, 15 years (I think: and therefore I am not Hugh/gay sex), I’ll have six by the time my MEB/PEB conclude, get pensions. People with less than 15 or so get compensation from the VA for service-connected injuries. And the processes and safe-guards involved in getting a decent rating are so tedious, complex, and lumbering, as one must penetrate (sorry gay sex, your butt hole’s quivering again isn’t it?) a Byzantine bureaucracy for a sniff (sorry, butt hole, fuck, I just can’t talk to you without making your butt hole quiver!) at compensation, that the costs of ‘faking it’ far exceed any possible gain. Yeah. You’re not a strong thinker, are you gay sex? Oh shit, I just realized that should be capitalized. Sorry Gay Sex.

Keep em comin’ guys. For my usual readers, I have something serious to discuss, but not now. For now I’ll bask in the incandescent light of a multi-paragraphed gay joke at Hugh’s expense. Who in reality, like Stetson, is probably not a bad guy. Just a little dumb and nonplussed.

Peace,

Jimison

Spent several days in the cuckoo’s nest without internet access. I return today to find the comment below.

“How can we believe anything posted on this site? He’s lied about everything. He’s lying about being a Soldier. He’s lying about bench pressing anyhting more than 200lbs. He’s lying about the fact that everyone in the world is conspiring against him. He’s been lying and whining about everyhting since this thing started. He’s never been a Soldier. I know this slob. Tell me where he earned the right to be called “Soldier.” Please indulge us all. He never made one full day in the Army without whining or complaining. He’s among the lowest of the low. Please tell us all. Soldiers don’t lie. Soldiers suck it up. This piece of terd is nothing but useless scum. He’s a discgrace to all of us vets. I can hear is whining from here. TELL US WHY HE THINKS HE’S A SOLDIER!!!!!! STOP THIS SHIT NOW!!!!!!”

As usual, I will try to address each criticism in the order they appear. First question: “How can we believe” and so on and so forth? What reason have you to doubt me? You had different experiences with the same organization? And? In the infinite class of possible outcomes and or experiences with Army medicine there are ‘good’ experiences and ‘bad’ experiences. Most probably fall somewhere in the middle, and some are outliers. That my experiences have not matched yours is no reason to deny the truthfulness of the content of this site.

“He’s lying about being a soldier.” I wear an ACU uniform five days a weak. I entered and passed the Warrior Transition Course. I live in an Army barracks on an Army base and am receiving medical care from numerous Army medical professionals. If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck….

“He’s lying about bench pressing anything more than 200lbs.” Um. Hmm. Ah. Have we worked out together? I’ve only three work out partners in my life. None of them would think, let alone put quill to parchment, so to speak, to make such a silly claim. Why not 100 lbs? 50 lbs? If you’re going to make shit up, go for the gusto!

“Conspiring against him…” and so on. I have never made that claim. Attributing a claim I haven’t made doesn’t help your case.

“Whining” and what not. Yes. It took the rear det almost a year to get me a clothing issue. It took the rear det over a year to get me a TA50. A class scheduling error put me in a course I 1) was not required to attend, 2) was coerced into attending with an email from the “rear det interim commander” I posted on this site, and 3) put me in the environment in which my back was broken. After my back was broken, it took my unit, my state, and the Army close to a year after my LoD was approved to approve the treatment I needed - leaving me a cripple as a result. Whining indeed.

You know me? Really? How? Please be specific. Because honestly, I’d like the opportunity to kick the shit out you.

“Indulge.” “One day w/o complaining.’ Etc., etc. I don’t do pabulum young padawan, but I am interested in learning/reading more of your omnipresence - the quality you’d need to rationally justify your statements.

When a soldier has a broken back, he or she does not ’suck it up.’ There is no ’suck it up’ for a broken back. Nor is there ‘take Motrin and drink water.’ I would explain, in egregious detail, the symptoms of my injuries/syndromes, but I doubt that’d have any affect on you. You’ve decided, sans rational support, that I’m a ‘terd.’ By the way, turd is spelled TURD. If you’re trying to insult me, please spell check. There’s few things worse than a misspelled insult.

“Useless scum.” Hmm. Many soldiers here at the Fort Knox, KY WTU would disagree. Scummy as I may be, and I don’t shy away from that quality in me - I’m a scoundrel - I have proved very useful as a source of information to soldiers on topics ranging from what their diagnoses mean to making Anselm’s Ontological Argument accessible to the soldier/student.

I had to break this up. Sorry for deviating from the original form of Mr. Stetson’s impassioned ‘critique.’

“Soldiers don’t lie.” I don’t know how to approach this one. More importantly, I don’t know why I’d approach this one. It’s patently false on its face. The only edifying statement that comes to mind is ‘read more.’

“Disgrace to vets.” How can I a) not be a soldier and b) be a disgrace to vets? Oh I get it. You’re doing a ‘the table is in the room and not in the room, therefore the moon is made of green cheese’ thing. Contradicting premises and anything follows. Awesome. Again, read more.

Re: “Stop this shit now!,” Or? You’ll poop your pants again? What? I don’t care how many exclamation points you type or how often you type in all caps. I am free to write anything I want here. I see failings in this system. Costly failings: Pain and treasure. My hope is that enough people come to recognize that there is a problem in getting Reserve Component soldiers medical care for LoD injuries, the most poignant problem to me (thus the reason I write about it so often) among many other criticisms.

I realize, Stetson, that you’re confused. I can only pray that God will open your eyes and the eyes of others like you to the suffering the system you awkwardly defend has caused.

This is Jimison’s wife, Sarah. I haven’t posted here since we first launched this site. In light of events that unfolded this week, I felt it was prudent to provide a short update.

As you’ll read from Jimison’s post at the beginning of this week, he had the second of four scheduled epidurals on Monday. Apparently they injected him twice and though he felt fine on Monday afternoon, by Tuesday morning Jimison was not feeling quite right and had become very emotional. After a somewhat public meltdown on Facebook, I began to fear for Jimison’s well being. He had quickly become detached and was pushing everyone away. I sent messages through our good friend, J.R., to the Chain of Command at the WTU and contacted the Family Support group at Fort Knox and informed them of my concern.

On Wednesday, they decided to move Jimison to a behavioral health facility. Jimison’s case manager called me today to let me know she is working hard to make sure that they are giving him the help he needs right now. She didn’t have much else to report at this point. I do trust this case manager, she promised to fight for Jimison to get the right pain management options made available and to help move his med board forward as swiftly as possible. I haven’t met this woman, but something in her voice told me I could trust her. I need to trust someone.

Please join me and pray for Jimison. He needs our love and support now more than ever.

Second shot today. Was kind of cool. Two syringes in my back near my spine, dye injection to locate gaps in the fusion, and a shot of anesthetic and steroid. I watched the procedure on a large screen to the left of the operating table.

Doc seems pretty sure it won’t work. Spinal stimulator is really my only hope. Keep your fingers crossed.

I haven’t felt much like writing lately. New pains. Pains that if I were a proud and or polite man I’d not describe. But I’ve never had much energy for the proud and or genteel. The pain radiates from an inch or two above my ass crack (a medical term, look up if necessary) to my nether regions. An incessant dull ache punctuated by occasional electric jolts - as if the Fulminator Himself were perched atop my cock pitching 360 degrees.

I have another transforaminal injection on Monday. “I have a dream” my wedding tackle stops hurting. I have another dream the majority of my medical team could distinguish a penis from a pencil. The last injection didn’t work. It made things worse. I suspect more of the same Monday.

I have more to say, matters more serious than the status of my wee wee, but I’m not in the right frame of mind to give them adequate treatment.

I’m at a loss for words, but I’ll give it my best shot.  A contractor working for the Army sent 7,000 families of soldiers killed in Iraq and Afghanistan letters addressed to [the family of] “John Doe.”

Army Adjutant General Brig. General Reuben D. Jones said, “There are no words to adequately apologize for this mistake or for the hurt it may have caused.”

Yes sir, you’re right.

http://www.foxnews.com/politics/2009/01/07/army-apologies-sending-john-doe-letters-survivors/

Forgot to tell ya’ll, I’m on Christmas Break.  Now I’m back.  I had a transforaminal roid injection today.  I’m a little edgy.  Forgive me if I’m short.

Had a great Christmas Holiday.  Sarah and I indulged a bit.  We can do that now given our new SES.  My little brother got Stop Loss-ed(?).  Cody will be playing the part of Ryan Phillipe.  I had to watch my wife cry again as I left for Fort Knox.  Now that I think about it, Christmas sucked.

So yeah, injection.  Hurt.  Still hurts.  Will probably hurt tomorrow.  Likely won’t help.

My LTC buddy showed me an “Army Times” article criticizing WTUs/WTBs.  I haven’t read the article, and likely won’t from start to finish, but I’ll synopsize, link, and analyze sometime in the next week or so.  Baby J and I are going to tackle some other issues - mostly regarding the V.A. - shortly.  That’s all for now.