A Final First

It seems fitting that I will be considered fully vaccinated against COVID19 on the first anniversary of Jei’s death. Maybe it’s the universe and Jei trying to give me a silver lining in the last of my firsts.

This year has taught me a lot, about myself, about others.

In the past year I have been told I am a gold digger, only care about “the money”, told to hurry up and get over it by a family member, threatened and harassed, seen first hand how much louder actions speak than words, and watched Big Army drag its feet on making a decision about Jei’s line of duty determination. Surprisingly, it is only the on-going, never ending saga with Big Army that I am upset or bitter about; not so much for me, but because Jei deserved better, other military families deserve better.

In the last 365 days, I have spent countless hours proving Jei had PTSD to the army, and was misdiagnosed with bipolar, which like borderline personality disorder, seems to be a way for the army to blame the servicemember and not their service for the mental health issues many struggle with. I have lost count of the number of research articles I read (and whole sections of the DSM V) to preemptively defend Jei to Big Army, and realized as much as I thought I knew about PTSD, TBIs and chronic pain, I didn’t know nearly enough to truly be able to help Jei in the manner he deserved. I wish I had done better. I hope what I did do ends up being shared and helping others.

I have spent countless hours calling and emailing a senator from my home state, and one of his aids. I am pretty sure George at the pentagon, the liaison, is really tired of seeing or hearing my name, or seeing my emails, which were scathing at times. Sorry, not sorry, George.

There is a lot I have struggled and continue to struggle with, a lot of “what-ifs”, and how Jei should still be here. How unfair life is that he is the reason I am still alive, and yet I nor anyone else were able to step in to provide the life line he so desperately needed. I know sometimes that is simply impossible, when the brain is ill, sometimes there is nothing to be done, just like when a person has cancer or heart disease…but sometimes it is hard to not travel that road.

And even as I struggle with that conundrum, I am grateful. This past year could have been so much harder if not for the folks who cared to take time to lift me up. Thank you to each of you, if I haven’t said it personally thank you, I apologize but please know I am grateful every day for your support and shoulder.

A special thank you to

· My parents, particularly my dad, who helped me clean out our place in Hawaii and fly Jei home with me, who didn’t mind that I asked them to quarantine and get tested before coming to see me because of the pandemic and my crappy lungs.

· The friends who picked up the burden of being my family when Jei died in the middle of the pandemic, let me be part of their bubble and kept their bubble small to protect my lungs. Thank you for letting me crash your house, being willing to take up running because it would help me, and a nephew who cracks me up while warming my heart with his compassion.

The two women who continue to teach me about the woman I want to be when I grow up. Who always picked up that phone, even that first night late at night, and who made sure I celebrated my birthday and were willing to go on a long walk.

· The friend, a widow herself, who told me I didn’t have to do it all and it was okay to take a break. I hope I get to meet you in real life soon and not just chat via #medtwitter

· My two sisters from another mister, who blocked their calendars, and kept me buoyant when I wanted to drown when first after first hit in November, and the friend who Jei considered like a younger brother for sitting with me on his birthday and tomorrow.

· The other half of Trina, for being you, but also for your generosity of spirit and offering to help me knock off something from my bucket list that got cancelled due to my health and then the pandemic. Most people wouldn’t think of that, let alone offer what you did..

· My sisters for bridging time, distance and other divides that would have made it a lot easier to not check in as much as you have

· The friends that just called, didn’t mind when I wasn’t emotionally capable of picking up, but always checked in on me just because

These are but a few thank yous. I made it through this past year in spite of me, and because of you.

I don’t want to end this year in the dark, and it would be so easy to let myself wallow there. Instead, I have decided to “wash” some of the money that feels like blood money to me, and give myself something of a silver lining for the foreseeable future on the anniversary of Jei’s death. Each year a portion of the money I receive from the Army will be put towards the endowment in Jei’s name. Knowing it will be that much easier for someone within the large military family to become a nurse and help others…it would make Jei smile, so it will make me as well.

Thank you to all of you who helped me to start and grow the endowment so that when I needed to find a glimmer of light, it was there for me to grab on to.

Be safe, be well