I’ve had the blessing of some amazing people in my family who have taught me lessons that they never knew they were teaching me. I can’t even start counting them. (Lessons or people. I have a HUGE family.) If I had to pick out the most important lesson my Uncle Bobby taught me, I’m not sure what it would be. There were far too many to count. Certainly his grit and determination. I think about his wacked-out sense of humor. However, I think I want to talk about the fact that my uncle was part of the cost of war that no one hardly talks about. You see, he didn’t die in Vietnam, but he certainly died of Vietnam.
My uncle died two years ago today of prostate cancer. Yep, you read that right. Who dies of prostate cancer these days? My dad, grandfather, and two other uncles had it. They all survived. The VA even told him he would die of old age before he died of cancer. He was barely sick. They caught it in Stage one. No worries, right?
Wrong. His battle lasted barely two years. No treatment even touched his cancer, and it spread like wildfire. We found out later that this was common with those who were exposed to Agent Orange in the Vietnam War. He didn’t really see action in the war, but he died of it anyway. Nine days before he died, my dad was diagnosed with the same cancer. Stage 4. (This time period qualifies as literally the worst time of my life.) One round of radiation and my dad currently shows no sign of cancer. It still boggles my mind how different their responses to treatment were.
Uncle Bobby fought the cancer, and he never gave up. We have pictures of him helping my cousin at his lake house weeks before he died. In that same time period, he build his wife of 48 years a massive cabinet to put in her kitchen, as he if was leaving her one last gift. He was always moving, always working, and always doing stuff for others. He came to church every Sunday unless he was in the hospital. I’m fairly sure he was even off fishing in there or playing poker. (He always was!) Unless you knew him, you didn’t know he was sick, much less in the end stages of cancer. He left an amazing legacy.
Sorry, Aunt Soosie. I know you’re bawling right now.
My Uncle Bobby died of the war in Vietnam, and the stuff they do to veterans. Years later, Agent Orange reared its ugly head and took his life. Only his manner of death was cancer. Recently I joined a site were many of the people who served where I did, in a radioactive environments with relatively “safe” levels. So many of us are disabled. A disturbing amount have autoimmune diseases such as myself. Many of us wonder if they experimented on us with vaccines such as the Anthrax vaccine that I barely missed out on having to take, that some doctors blame for some other disabilities occurring among my shipmates now. It made me start to think about the disabled veterans that no one tends to consider. The ones with invisible disabilities that show up later. Sometimes the ones that the VA considers “not service connected”, but you know that it wouldn’t have happened had you not served. I dare say this constitutes the bulk of veterans, but I don’t have numbers to back that up.
So here’s where I get political. I’m not supporting or insulting any particular party when I go on this rant. Matter of fact, if you comment on this, please don’t even go there. I’ll delete it, because this isn’t about a particular party. It’s far bigger than that. Whatever party holds the power, they have to consider ALL of the cost of war before sending us there. It should be a priority for the government to take care of veterans, even when the effects of their service don’t show up until their old age. They MUST look at the human cost, and not just in death and traumatic injury. The cost of war includes those and the lesser injuries. It includes my RD and everything that pops up because I have it. It includes the mental and physical issues my shipmates have. It includes my friend Jason and others, who committed suicide after he got out. It includes ALL those suffering from PTSD, from those who were “boots on the ground” troops to the women who are sexually assaulted while serving. (That’s far more common that you want to think about.) It includes Uncle Bobby and others who were affected by Agent Orange, whose injuries didn’t appear until he was in his 70’s. The Vietnam conflict may be over, but people like my Uncle Bobby are still dying in it.
It seems to be “patriotic” today to always support the military and the wars, and don’t disagree with any of it because it’s unamerican. Bull. Support the troops. Fund the VA, but don’t say that they were always right, and that the government is always right. Some of us are suspiciously sick and have a horrible time getting the VA to take care of us. So before you send off those troops off to battle, make sure of your cause and your ability to take care of those of us that signed that blank check to possibly give our lives for your freedom. This goes for both politicians that make the call to the voters that put them in office.
Now that I’m off my soapbox, I’ll share the wackiest thing Uncle Bobby ever did. He was an awesome bricklayer and woodworker. His brickwork is pure art. Somehow, he managed to cut off the first joint of his finger. Would you know that he kept that stupid finger in his freezer to scare the kids with?!?! I was terrified to go over their house for months on end. I recently asked Aunt Soosie if he really did that, or if he was pulling our legs.
He did.
And that’s my Uncle Bobby for you.
John 15:13 “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.”
Unapologetically Disabled 