Today, Veteran’s Day, is my day. I’m a disabled veteran. Of the Navy.

I didn’t do anything when I was in the Navy. I went to boot camp. I got sick (“Cough due to cold,” asks Forrest), and then that was that. After boot camp, I spent nine months in medical hold in Bethesda, Maryland (with a little time at Naval District Washington). I was poked and prodded, sampled and scanned, and now-lets-go-with-a-higher-dosage and okay-maybe-a-lower-dosage. And then I was honorably and medically discharged.

I went home to my wife at the time and children. I went back to school on the GI Bill and got a BS in Math. I came back to the civilian world.

When I was in Bethesda, I worked about 40 hours a month. I stayed in barracks with other young men who were there for one medical condition or another. One friend of mine had a Napoleon thing going on: whenever he was put into a position that he didn’t want to be in, he began to act like Napoleon. I played a lot of cards with Napoleon in the common room. Watched a lot of Matlock.

I remember there being a gaggle of young men there that I referred to as the Lithium God Squad. They were all on Lithium, and they were all devout Christians. Although, they were all pretty mellow about it.

They were pleasant. You know.

My life as a veteran? For a long time, I felt guilt for being a disabled veteran. Really guilty. But I used to really enjoy guilt so it was okay. I don’t feel guilty any longer.

I’ve been sick. For decades now. Every single day, I deal with my sickness. Every single day, I bleed. Every single day, I’m in pain or discomfort. The ocean isn’t helping any longer. I spent weeks and weeks swimming out to the buoy. But I’ve been over this before and don’t even like mentioning it because I’m not looking for sympathy. Sympathy is not for me. However, I am dependent on you.

There are no doctors that can tell me anything beyond, “You have a blood disorder of unknown origins.” There are no hospitals that will make me well. There are no medicines that will heal me.

Nada. Nothing. Zip. (Unless something comes up.)

So I depend on you. Not for the government disability check that comes every month. Not for the free medical care. I depend on you for the emotional and mental support which helps keep me sane (although some might argue that it’s too late). And I can never thank you enough for that. I’m lucky to be surrounded by such beautiful people. I’ve come to realize lately, and not through this, that we all depend on one another.

I heard a story on the news tonight of a guy that was being mugged. When his assailants found his military ID, they stopped. They gave him his things. Then they gave him one of those “we’re cool” hand bumps.

Early in the evening tonight, my neighbors and I lounged for a while in the breezeway as we’re sometimes prone to do. Half had the day off from work. Some (yours truly included) were sick with whatever’s going around. So we sat around and had a small Veteran’s Day party for me. They don’t know it was a party. But that’s what it was. Even though we were just sitting around talking.

“Which war were you in, Scott?”
“The Great One.”

“You were in three days, weren’t you?”
“No, eleven months.”

“Did you get me a card?”
“We get you a card each month in the form of a check. Be happy with that.”
Another chimes in, “In fact, we’re only keeping you alive so that you’ll blow you’re government cheese on us.”

I don’t understand why nobody got me a card. But god, did they make me feel good. Their warmth.

I know my place in this life. I’m not military personnel. But there are plenty who are. And each and everyone of them depend on us. Service men and women are out there trying to do right (hopefully most are, anyway). They’re out there doing good stuff. And the ones that already went out there and did stuff, trying to make the world a better place? Yeah. They need you. Veteran’s Day should simply be a reminder of that.

I hope you did something extra nice for one of them today. Don’t feel badly if you didn’t get them a card, though. Apparently, it’s not really a card-giving day yet. But maybe get them a cake next year. Like Red Velvet.