Maybe I'm auditioning for Manic-Depressive Theater (I tend to blame the emotional roller coaster on my blood sugar levels as if I were, indeed, a Frosted Flake). My dilemma: if I get the lead should I be happy or sad? Decisions, decisions. For today, I'll pick happy.
Here's why: the burden facing our Veterans Administration after just the first decade of endless war is more shattered and battered bodies and savaged souls of more men and women than can ever be healed or held close until they cease to hurt. We have deliberately to some extent but mostly inadvertently sentenced the very talented doctors, nurses, specialists, therapists and everyone associated with VA treatments and hospitals to a life sentence of attempting to empty the ocean with a teaspoon.
Because of the incredible advances in battlefield medicine many people who otherwise never have survived their wounds on the field of battle are among us, the living. Sometimes the challenges of what life they have been left to lead is overwhelming both for them and their families.
It's hard to find a reason to believe and in an eye blink of doubt, you or someone you love can change and be lost in the deluge of life's uneven promise. It can take all your strength to not only believe in miracles but to rely on them.
And sometimes, all you need is one spark to light a flame of hope and set the world ablaze with the promise of everlasting change it portends. To be a moment when from this moment on nothing will ever be the same again. Perhaps for our caregivers and those in their care, and their families, that flame has a name and his name is Brendan Marrocco. These are the days of miracle and wonder. Rejoice and be glad.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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