Thanks to the Nurses

91st Evac was my hospital for several weeks before medivac to USA.

Capp was one of the nurses there at that time. It's amazing that we find each other on a survivor site made possible by technology that was not even dreamed of in those days.

For all these years I've wanted to personally thank those who patched up my wounds, revived me each time I died, and kept me alive until I was stable enough to ship out. I've wanted to thank them for holding my hand, stroking my cheek, smiling, encouraging, telling me I would survive, telling me that life could go on, telling me that someone else was caring for my soldiers even though I couldn't gbe with them.

I've wanted to thank them for changing the stinking, stinking bandages and casts, for changing the bed when I was out of control, for carrying away the bedpans and urinals that someone had to empty and wash, for cleaning me up because I was often comatose or sky high on narcotics used to control the pain.

Thank them for holding my hand through the night mares and through the pain. Thank them for calming me down when the drugs, pain, and fear became too much. Thank you for getting me past the deaths of those who didn't live long enough, didn't make it to the hospital, didn't survive the emergency care.

Thank them for transferring the blood to refill my arteries and for filling the IV bags to feed me and medicate me. Thank the nurses for caring for my wounds that were open and running and infected and smelling so bad it gagged me and the soldiers in the beds on either side.

Thank you volunteering to be in the Army to begin with since none of the women were drafted at that time, for your bravery, your courage, your patriotism and dedication. Thank you for coming to work when you didn't feel good, when you were hung over the self medication used for your own survival, for putting on a smile no matter how badly we acted or how we cursed the treatment and pain, for showing love when we showed hatred for everything around us.

Thank the nurses for the Christmas carols they sang and for the festive lights and decorations they used to cheer us up. Thank you for rejoicing when we survived the touch and go battle with death that followed us in from the battlefield.

And most of all thank you for your prayers.

There is no way to thank you for all you did for me and thousands like me who passed through the gates of your MASH hospital and depended on you for our very survival. I wish my children and grandchildren and all who come after them could understand what you gave and that without you, none of them would even walk the face of the earth.

So here we are Capp ... all these years later, again at Christmas time, still surviving and helping others. Thank you Capp. Thank you.

((((((((((((( Troy ))))))))))))))))))

((((((((((((((( capp )))))))))))))))))

((((((((( all nurses who helped ))))))))))))))))))

Dear Troy,

I'm not a nurse, but I was touched by your letter of thanks and I thought you put it so poignantly and so well. I can see what a difficult job it was to survive and almost as hard to do the work to help you survive (emotionally not physically).

I wish all medical personnel could see this and know their efforts were appreciated. You made it clear how difficult the job was that they needed to self-medicate to survive emotionally. You said it so so well.

But Troy, you also made me see a part of what you suffered as a result of your service for our country. Thank you again for all you did. You suffered voluntarily, if not drafted - but it was still raw suffering to carry out your job. I appreciate you and all the military personnel who have served our country and gone through h*** to do it. I'm sending you some sincere hugs, if you do that sort of thing. If not then I'm sending you a firm handshake. Thank You So Much,

Leslie

And thanks for your note, Multipixie ... I can barely type at this moment because I reread my post after reading yours ... *tears *panic *choking

Some posts affect me so much I have to delete them, but this note of appreciation needs to stay up here. My thanks might not be expressed as well as it should be, but it is the best I can do for now as tears run down my cheeks and down my neck and blur the words that my fingers put onto the screen.

The entire medical team helped each of us survive, and the nurses had a particularly grueling job because of their constant and close contact with each soldier.

out - T.

Oh, wow, how amazing that you two could find each other here! What a connection you have to one another.

Thanks to both of you for all you have given.

tears
will respond later

thank you T
Cap

My heartfelt thanks, T...

The other side now.
Tet Offensive/71st Evac was my baptism; my initiation into a very special club with outrageous dues.

Honestly? Your thanks threw me a wee bit...
I've always felt that my 91st patients got half of me. The other half was at Pleiku, spiritually drained and physically exhausted. No R&R between assignments does not make for a happy nurse.

Forgive me for not smiling more. You see...if I smiled, I felt. If I felt, I wept.
"Never let 'em see you cry." Mantra that kept us going, but first it was an order from the Colonel.

It's my belief that few of us, if any, felt we were doing enough for our guys. Y'all were not patients; you were brothers. Forgive me for remembering your wounds and not remembering your face. Not true...I remember many faces.
Faces of fear and of pain.
I remember the hugs or the clasping of hands when one of you would stabilize and head out, and the gratitude I felt that another one made it home.
It made it a bit better whenever we thought of the others who didn't. We must have done something right if one more made it home.

Made it home...
so did my first husband
then he died from his wounds
from the war that changed so much for our generation

Self medication started then big time. It was a point of honor that I never used any drug meant for y'all, Troy. I do know a few of the others did, and for that I'm sorry.
JW Red was my companion when I was off shift. Twelve on, twelve off if we were lucky. I could drink for close to two hours, finally get some sleep, no hangover, butt dragging...'course all of us were beyond being tired.

Did you know how much we respected and loved you guys?
So few, so very few ever made life hard for us. You accepted what we had to do, seldom struck out at us although it hurt so badly you were stifling the screams...
I still hear them with my heart, T

Long ago I gave up the survivors guilt. I became grateful.
Six of us--nursing sisters.
We agreed we would do wonderful and happy things and say;
"This one's for you..." Not one special soldier, all the ones we left behind.
Ran through the wildflowers naked
Sang off key and didn't care...and we sang loudly
Hugged old men and their old ladies
Stood at attention when the National Anthem was played
Rode a Harley up and down the Rockies with a helluva funny Brit
and
shared in our minds with their spirits

Sound foolish? In some ways, yes it was. It soothed us to think we were making them part of life; sharing what they missed.
I was over 30 before I made peace with it and let it go.
I will not pick it up again.

So, yeah, T....I also thank you.
We grew up, didn't we? Went from being teens to hard hearts. Then allowed healing to even become a thought. No one told us we had to heal--deal with it, they said.
How do you deal with what we went through?! Was it worse than The Big War? Yes, when they came home the country cheered. When we came home,
whatever

Cap

Hey Troy and Capp, thank you both for all you've done and endured. My dad is alive but I feel I lost him in many ways to the same war. He couldn't raise me due to his PTSD and substance abuse. I barely know him. Still, I want to say that the country should be cheering for you all. You have my utmost respect.

And there is a monument to your dad as well, Tummus ... a monument called "freedom"

So true, Troy, so true...

I wonder how many military personnel are skimming the posts and identifying with us...yet don't realize their efforts were important? Or read but not reply because they can't speak of it?

Civilians. Today there are many organizations that adopt soldiers so they can send packages and letters. It takes but a few minutes time, but it gives that soldier hours of feeling good.
Hours.
To know that someone cared enough to send a card with a few words, or a small package with goodies, is surprisingly beautiful to these tough men and women.

Peace and power,
Cap