by Alison Mello
“Dad, you don’t understand,” I say as I turn back to the window. “I blew it with both Derek and with Patty.”
“Did you? Or did you make a mistake that you need to face and fix,” he says as he places a hand on my shoulder.
“I don’t know if I can fix this. I’m a fucking mess. I screamed at Patty twice, and I can’t stop having fucking nightmares. I don’t know what to do.”
“You know what to do. You need to start by sobering up, and then you need to get some help for your PTSD. You need to figure out how to handle it, and then you can go back to your girl and apologize.”
“I feel like I’m going to be sick.” I can feel the bile rising.
“Here you go, son.” He hands me a bucket, and I vomit yet again.
When I finish, I look at him and say, “This isn’t going to be easy, is it?”
“Not one step of it, but you have to ask yourself, is it worth it.”
“She’s worth it, Dad. I know I haven’t known her long, but I think I love her.”
“I’m sure you do. When it gets hard, remember why you’re doing it,” he says with a sympathetic look.
“Was Derek here yesterday?”
“He was. Don’t you remember?”
“Dad, I don’t remember much of anything from yesterday.”
“All right. Well, let me fill you in. We got to your house after work to find you piss drunk and stumbling through your home. There was a broken glass in the living room with shards everywhere. You told your mother and I to leave your house and you started to walk away from us until Derek put you in your place.” I sigh and look out the window as he continues. “I think the worst part was when Patty showed up to tell you she was still there for you and wasn’t giving up on you. You yelled at her and then practically threw her out of the room.”
“Dad, this isn’t making me feel better. Actually, it’s making me feel worse.”
“It’s not supposed to make you feel better. It’s supposed to be a reality check. The woman was here to support you, and you pushed her away. We came to the house to support you, and you pushed us away. Stop pushing everyone away and let us help you.” He puts his hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
A lone tear escapes. “I feel like a fool, Dad. The nightmares are so bad. All I keep seeing is me losing Brody. In a couple of them, I had to save Patty. I hate that I can’t remember what I do to people during the day, but I remember the nightmares all the time. I’m so tired of the nightmares.” The pain they cause is unbearable. “I’m exhausted and I want to sleep, but when I sleep, I see the most horrible things and then I no longer want to sleep.”
The doctor comes walking in. “Good morning, Mr. Montgomery. I see you’re not feeling well today. Well, we’re going to see what we can do to make you feel better, okay?”
I nod, struggling to look at the man.
“I’m going to start by putting some meds into your IV to try and calm your stomach down, but I’d also like for you to try to eat either some toast or crackers. What do you think?”
“I’ll try some crackers, doc,” I say, still looking out the window.
“Son, I know I’m not exactly easy on the eyes, but I need you to try and look at me so I can do a quick check on your vitals.”
I look in his direction with a straight face. He looks me dead in the eyes, and in a very sincere tone, he says, “We’re going to help you. You’ll make it through this.”
My lip trembles. “Everyone keeps telling me that, yet I don’t buy it. How are you going to make the nightmares stop?” I say with a bit of anger.
“I have one of the state’s top doctors coming to see you today. He specializes in PTSD and has been in your shoes, so he knows what you’re going through. You just hang in there.”
I nod and look back toward the window. My mind keeps drifting to Patty. I miss her and her beautiful smile and yet I keep pushing her away. I don’t want her to see me like this.
“What are you thinking, son?”
“I pushed her away because I’m embarrassed and I don’t want her to see me this way.” Another tear rolls down my face. “I want her to see me at my best, not my worst.”
“Son, can’t you see? She cares about you either way. That’s why she was here for you, to support you at your worst so you can be your best.” He pats me on the shoulder.
“Dad, at the house I have a journal. I would like to start writing to her in it. Would you get it for me?”
“Sure, what does it look like?”
“It’s camouflage and says US Army on it. I started to write to her the other day, but it led to more drinking and now I don’t even know what I wrote. I want her to know what I’m going through and that I’m thinking about her. I want to say sorry and explain that I had to deal with it on my own.”
“I’ll get it, Son. Don’t worry. After you have your snack, you should get some rest. While you do that, I’ll pick up the book and your cell phone for you.”
I’m thanking my father when the nurse walks in with some crackers and juice for me. She gives me a warm smile and says, “Glad you’ve decided to try and eat something.”
“I’m cold,” I say with a shiver.
“That’s the alcohol coming out of your system. I’ll get you a warm blanket. While I do that, try to eat and then you can get some rest.”
I take a cracker and the juice and start eating. There are four crackers in the package, and I manage to eat them all despite the fact it’s turning my stomach. I have no idea if I’ll be able to keep it down. No sooner am I done with the four crackers, Nurse Nancy walks back in with my warm blanket. She places it over me and lowers my bed so I can fall asleep. “Good job, Mr. Montgomery. Now get some rest.”
“Please call me Carter,” I say with heavy eyes. “Mr. Montgomery is the old man next to me.”
They both chuckle and I doze off.
***
“Our mission is clear, men. We must rescue the hostages. No one dies. No one gets hurt. Am I clear?” I say to my men as we are about to take on a building with no idea how many men are guarding them. As we take our positions, they all whisper, “Hooah!”
With our night vision in place, I count down on my fingers—three, two, one—and point toward the building, giving them the go. We rush the building, and as soon as we do there is gunfire and grenades being thrown all around us. One of the grenades is thrown right in our direction, but we see it coming and manage to take cover before it’s too late.
We storm inside, shooting anything that resembles the enemy, taking them down one at a time. I take the corner and find Patty laying on the floor, bloody and hurt bad. I scream as I hear footsteps coming around the corner.
“I told you she’s mine, and if I can’t have her no one can.”
I drop my rifle and dive at the guy, punching him in the face over and over as hard as I can. I feel so much anger for this man. He hurt my girl and now he has to pay.
“You fucking loser!” I say, punching him repeatedly. “I love her.” Once he stops moving, I run over to Patty and kneel beside her. She’s not moving as I call for a medic and weep over what I believe is the loss of my girl.
“Shit.” I sit up in bed, finding a strange man sitting on the side of me.
“What was that one about?”
“Who the hell are you?” I say, panting from that horrible nightmare, sweat running down my face.
“I’m the person who’s going to help you make those go away.”
“Slip me some scotch and I’ll be fine.”
“You won’t be touching that anymore,” Derek says from the other side of the room.
“Fuck, man. You scared the shit out of me.”
“No more liquor, not now and maybe never again. I’m not letting you turn into an alcoholic,” Derek says to me as he sits in his seat and glares at me.
“I’m not an alcoholic. I had a binge for a few days.” I lay back, acting like it’s no big deal.
“You still haven’t told
me about your nightmare,” the stranger in the room says.
“You still haven’t told me who you are,” I say, fighting both my nausea and him because I really don’t feel like talking about it.
“Dr. Joseph Cardoza, Master Sergeant, US Army retired. Now, you were going to tell me about your nightmare.”
He says it like I’m supposed to spill my guts to him. “Oh, so I’m supposed to spill all because you’re retired Army, like me?”
“No, you’re going to tell me about your nightmares so I can get you out of this place and back to work and a normal life. If you don’t want to tell me about them, then tell me what triggers them.”
“Fine. I was fine from the point I told Patty about them a couple of weeks ago until the night she ran out on me.”
“Okay, are they the same all the time?” The doctor asks me as he continues to scribble notes onto his notepad.
“No, they're not. Sometimes I dream I’m losing Patty in a war situation and sometimes I’m losing Brody all over again.” I gasp as I realize I just told him a general idea on what they are about. He grins because he knows what just hit me.
“It’s okay, your secret is safe with me. I want to help you, just like you joined the veteran affairs team to help other veterans in need. You just have to trust me and talk to me.”
I shrug my shoulders.
“Do you want to give me more details?”
“Listen, I’ve been in here one night. I slept like shit and I’m hungry. Do you think I want to give you more details?”
“Fair enough, but so you know I’ll be back here tomorrow to continue this same conversation and the day after and the day after that. The only way you’re getting rid of me is to talk to me and show me that you’re getting better. I’m not giving up on you,” he says, making his way toward the door.
“Whatever. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” I shout as he walks out of the room.
Derek walks over to the side of my bed. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What are you talking about?” I say, pissed off that he’s giving me shit.
“Listen, I understand the nightmares suck. I have a few skeletons of my own that like to creep into my sleep. I even understand your concern over Patty seeing you at your worst and that it fucks with your male ego, but pushing the top doctor in the state away when he can help you get better is fucking stupid.”
“Maybe I’m not ready to deal with this yet.”
“Bullshit. There is no reason for you not to deal with this unless you’re concerned with something else,” he spits at me. I haven’t worked with him long, but I’m glad I don’t piss him off often.
I turn my head to look out the window because I don’t know how to tell him I’m afraid. I’m so afraid that I’ll relapse and hurt Patty again, and I can’t do that.
“Look at me, man,” he says in a softer tone. I turn to look at him, my eyes welling with tears. I feel like such a pussy. I’m supposed to be strong. I led my men into so many missions, and yet I can’t deal with the situation in front of me. “Talk to me,” he says as he sits at the side of my bed.
I sigh. “I’m weak and I’m afraid. What if I relapse and hurt her again? I mean, look at me. I’m supposed to be this rough and tough soldier who has led too many missions to count and I can’t deal with the situation I’m in now. Seriously, first I pinned her down in my sleep and now when I need her most I can’t let her be there for me. I pushed her away and hurt her again.”
“Oh, man, you have to give yourself a break. You’re human, you make mistakes as we all do, but you have to learn to own them and fix them. You’re far from weak. You’re a man who's been put through hell with the missions you’ve been on and watched men die. There is nothing weak about that.”
I sniffle as I realize tears are streaming down my face yet again.
“It’s time for you to talk to the good doctor and pull your shit together. Then you can go out to that lake house and get your girl back.”
“Look at me.” I look up at him. “What do you say?”
I nod and look back down. I know he’s right. I need to be determined that I won’t hurt her again instead of worrying about doing it.
“Okay, I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
My father walks back in the room with a bag of stuff.
“Hey, you’re awake.” He places a thermos of soup and crackers down on my table and says, “I also brought you the journal you were asking for as well as your cell phone. You have a text.”
I look at my phone and freeze when I see it’s from Patty.
Patty: I know you’re probably sleeping right now, but I wanted to tell you that I’m thinking about you. I won’t give up on us that easy. You can push me away now, but when you’re better I’ll be there.
She’s amazing, and now every time I get frustrated or want to give up I can look at this and know she’s not giving up on me. She is everything to me. I will fight this thing for her, if not for myself. I’m going to send her a quick message later letting her know that I’m fighting the fight and that I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.
“Thanks for bringing me my journal and phone, Dad.” I open the top to my soup. “Oh, this smells awesome.”
“Eat it slow, son. I don’t want you getting sick again.”
“How’s Mom doing?” I notice that I haven’t seen her here.
“She’s doing okay. She’s worried about you, but she wanted to give you a little space. She’ll be by tomorrow.”
I nod. “Tell her I said thank you, please.”
“Sure, son.”
“Listen, now that your dad is back I’m going to go home to get some sleep. I need to go to the office in the morning and then I’ll be back in the afternoon to see how your appointment went.”
“Thanks, Derek.”
“No problem, kid. Get some rest, huh,” he says as he walks out the door.
My father takes Derek’s seat. “How did your appointment go?”
“I was a jerk. I don’t mean to be, it’s just hard. Derek made me see that I need to work on this, and I promised him that I would talk to the doctor tomorrow.” I take a bite of soup. “This is really good, Dad.”
“Your mother made it.”
“I have two amazing women in my life. I need to fight this so I can apologize to both of them,” I tell my father as I put crackers in my soup. “Look what Patty sent me.” I show him the text, and he smiles.
“So what are you going to do?” He asks while I’m devouring the amazing soup my mom made me.
“Get myself better and then beg for forgiveness.”
My father laughs. I start laughing too, causing some of the soup to dribble down my face, but I quickly stop. I look up into his eyes and say, “I’m sorry. I should have come to you sooner.” I want him to see the sincerity, because I wholeheartedly mean it.
“We all make mistakes, but you need to deal with it and make it right.”
“I will. Please give me some time, and I promise I will.”
“Well, now that I can tell your mother that I saw you eat and this thermos is empty, I’m going home. You need to get some rest. We’ll both see you tomorrow.”
“All right. See you tomorrow.”
“Good night, son.”
“Good night, Dad.”
He takes the thermos with him as he walks out the door. I pick up my journal and my cell phone. First, I send Patty a text.
Carter: I’m working on it and will be in touch soon. Thanks for not giving up.
Then I start writing in my journal, and I don’t stop until my eyes are heavy and I know I’ll be able to fall asleep.
Chapter 6
Carter
Today is my second full day in the hospital. I got here Tuesday evening and don’t remember a damn thing. I have no doubt that counselor guy from yesterday will be back, and he’ll want to talk more. I was just served breakfast, if that’s what you call it. Eating makes me miss Patty even more because I think about her co
oking and how delicious her food is.
I pull out my book and write a note to Patty. I plan on giving her all of these at some point. I want her to know what I went through and that I was fighting for us.
As I finish writing my page to Patty, in walks my doctor. “Good morning, Mr. Montgomery. How are you feeling today?”
“I’m feeling a little better. I managed to eat some of my breakfast, but my stomach doesn’t feel too good now.”
He nods. “That could either be because our food isn’t all that good or because your stomach is still recovering from the large amounts of alcohol you put in it.”
“I bet it’s a little of both,” my mother says as she walks into the room.
My smile grows because I’m truly happy to see her. I feel bad for what I put her through. I need to apologize to her.
The doctor laughs and says, “I bet you’re right. I’ll be in to check on you later. I want to see how you do keeping food down. Hopefully tomorrow we can move on to heavier foods.”
“Thanks, doc.”
He leaves the room, and my mom takes a seat beside my bed. “Mom, I’m sorry. I know I let you down, and I feel so bad.” I look down, struggling to face her.
“Well, you should feel bad. Derek’s phone call to us was like getting the phone call from overseas that you’d been injured. We were worried about you.”
“I can’t even imagine. I feel like when I first started drinking it was so I could forget what happened with Patty and to forget the nightmares. When I saw you and dad at the house, I drank more because I was embarrassed. I felt bad that I hadn’t come to you about the nightmares or went to Derek for help.”
“You shouldn’t be embarrassed by what you’ve gone through, but how you dealt with it was not good. I can’t say that I understand what you’re going through and I won’t pretend I do. I’ve never seen the things you have and I’ve never dealt with the nightmares that you’re dealing with. That being said, you could have come to us and told us you needed help. I thought we were closer than that. I’m not upset so much by the binge you went on, but rather that you didn’t tell us you were having problems.”
