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All -- I received this e-mail from my friend, Amanda. Does anyone know how to help fill her suggestion for making a traumatic time for soldiers' families a little bit easier?
Viewing Iraq from inside Walter Reed Army Medical Center - reflections
This is not a political commentary, or a criticism in any way of a fine medical institution, but a reflection of something we don’t see in the news...
I have been an Army spouse for nearly 20 years (husband serving 23 years). Many of you may have friends and family who serve willingly. A few months ago, my husband went to spend a few weeks Walter Reed Army Medical Center (WRAMC) for QA work (not medical). One of his comments was: you see a lot of people with missing fingers and toes. He said little else. Yesterday I had to go to WRAMC for an appointment. I admit that I was frightened by what I might see. These are my observations if you will permit:
It is hard to stand on an elevator and look at a 20 year old with a prosthesis. You want to say so much. Sometimes words fail you, no matter how much you care and regardless of your politics. So many prosthesis. So many prosthesis. So many prosthesis. So many dedicated, upbeat, encouraging medical staff. This place was alive with the caring. First class caring The ironic: I drove 40 minutes to find a parking space. But I wasn’t upset at the hospital. Having worked for a military hospital overseas, parking is a prime issue that we never seem to get ahead of. I understand the challenges. I drove with many other people who were looking, waiting and driving around aimlessly for a parking space. Just one solitary parking space. “Could someone please leave so I can park.” I imagined desperately families asking. In the end, I knew where to find the last space, but I know others didn’t. All I could think of was how a family must feel if their loved one is between life and death, or came in on a medivac and they desperately wanted to see them before they went to surgery, but they couldn’t park in time. How ironic I thought that in spite of everything we have, the best soldiers, the best medical attention, the one thing that could keep families from soldiers and uniting before pain, or during pain, was a parking space. I keep imagining the rising desperation of loved ones trying to get to injured loved ones and not being able to park. I asked my husband whether we could do something as simple as an Eagle Scout project or a volunteer project that offered a free valet parking service to family members of soldiers who were critically injured, and they were coming home for the first time. I ask can we just do that one thing, I wonder?
Can it possibly be that finding one simple parking space could have so much significance in these turbulent times.
Valet parking for families of the critically injured or even the dying.
Thanks for allowing me to post.
Amanda
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