Wounded Warrior Softball Team Thumps D.C. Celebs

By J.D. Leipold

Army News Service

WASHINGTON  – The loss of an arm or a leg didn't seem to have an effect on the play of soldiers and Marines who make up the Wounded Warrior Amputee Softball Team yesterday as they soundly thumped a Washington-area celebrity team made up of sports legends, broadcasters and even the D.C. mayor.

In the second annual battle between the teams, hosted by the Washington Nationals at their ballpark, the softball classic started with the able-bodied celebrities taking an early 2-0 lead. But the celebrities could muster only two more runs in five innings of play as the wounded warriors -- playing with leg or arm prosthetics or no prosthetic at all -- couldn't be stopped defensively or offensively. They gave the celebrities a 17-4 shellacking under a perfect evening sky and full moon.

For Army veteran Greg Reynolds, the loss of his left arm forequarter happened at home following a 15-month Iraq tour when he was hit by a car while riding his motorcycle. His odds were one in 2,000 of surviving and even less while in recovery, he said.

"To be out here today in front of all these people by far exceeds anything I thought possible," Reynolds said. "This is a really rewarding, humbling experience to play on such an amazing team with my brothers, but to be out and to play with obviously missing a great portion of my body motivates me to the next level, because I have this inner discipline and motivation where I want to play better than the guy with his limbs. No one should put limitations on themselves."

While on a night patrol in Iraq, Matt Kinsey stepped on a landmine, losing his right foot.

"You go from being a paratrooper, which is a very proud thing and you take a lot of pride in it, to missing a foot and your career,” he said. “It's not over, but it's really tough to get back into the infantry, and you go from being on top of the mountain to being on the bottom of it.

"This is a dream come true,” the former high school and college ball player continued. “Every little kid dreams of getting a second chance as an athlete, and I had one and lost it. This is my second chance, so I play as hard as I can while I'm out here, because it can be gone just in the blink of an eye."

Veteran soldier Brian T. Urruela, who lost his right leg below the knee to two improvised explosive devices during Operation Iraqi Freedom, said playing ball is like the next phase of his recovery, which he described as “a long, long journey of about five years."

"Being at this level and maintaining this level, we're constantly working at improving our limbs and it definitely pushes us to our limits,” he said. “It's improved me tenfold."

The partnership with the Wounded Warrior Amputee Softball Team is one of several military outreach efforts the Nationals organization has undertaken. Team officials said they hope the softball game demonstrates to other amputees and the public that through rehabilitation and training, life without a limb can be unlimited.

Military Mom Cares for Triple Amputee Son

By Elaine Sanchez
American Forces Press Service

SAN ANTONIO, – Saralee Trimble hunches over a craft table, meticulously weaving thin strips of material together to form a basket.

The room is noisy with TVs blaring and people chatting and laughing, but her concentration is unbroken as she focuses on her task.

For just a few brief moments, this mom of five is simply focused on piecing together a basket, rather than the life that was nearly lost to her on a roadside in Afghanistan.

Trimble’s son, Army Pfc. Kevin Trimble, was just four months into his deployment when a fellow soldier standing three feet away stepped on a homemade bomb. The soldier was killed and Trimble lost both of his legs above the knee and his left arm above the elbow.

Trimble was at home in New Orleans when she got the phone call. It’s a call, she said with tears welling up, that she’ll never forget.

The and her husband, Daniel, were told their son had been injured and was in serious condition, but was stable and alert. Shocked at the news, they focused on the positive. “The most important thing was he was alert,” she said.

After a few days in Germany, her son arrived at Brooke Army Medical Center here on Sept. 24, and Trimble, her husband and her children rushed there to greet him.

The toughest moment, Trimble said, was when she saw her son for the first time. “I wanted to cry,” she said, again tearing up at the recollection. “It was heavy, real heavy.”

Not wanting to convey their shock, she and her husband went out in the hall, held each other and cried. Her son had dreamed of being a soldier for as long as she could remember, and joined right out of high school. She knew how devastating this injury would be to him as a man, and a soldier.

“It was really hard,” she said. “He’s 19; he’s my baby.” She then thought of her other children. Four of her five children are in the service: one in the Air Force, two in the Army and one in the Marine Corps Reserve.

Two have deployed multiple times and one expects to go soon, she said. “I thought of Kevin and then, ‘What about them?’”

The Long Recovery

Trimble steeled herself for the long recovery road ahead. Her electrician husband returned home to a foreman job they couldn’t afford for him to lose, and she settled in at the hospital. She grimaced as she recollected those early days of recovery.

“It was very traumatic, no way around it, it just is,” she said.

Trimble said her son was boiling hot all the time so they placed ice packs on his shoulders and constantly doused his face and neck with cold water. He was on pain medication, but even that couldn’t fully prevent the pain. “You can’t avoid it; it’s part of it,” she said.

Throughout, Kevin remained positive, Trimble said, with only a few moments of despair. “A few times he’s broken down and said, ‘Mom, look at me. What good am I?’”

In those moments, Trimble said all she could do was pray with her son and assure him he’d be OK. She never, even from the start, had a doubt that he’d pull through, she said.

Trimble said her son reached a turning point when a group of wounded warriors, including several triple amputees, came to see him at his bedside. “That encouraged him so much to see other guys the same as him who were actually getting around and able to do something,” she said.

Kevin checked out of the hospital less than two months after his injury, and is about to start his therapy at the Center for the Intrepid, a state-of-the-art rehabilitation center just steps away from the hospital.

He’s had one two-hour physical therapy session so far, Trimble said, and that one “wiped him out.” “They had him getting from the wheelchair onto the floor and then back up,” she said, noting that’s no easy feat with just one arm. “When he came back he didn’t want to do nothing but sleep.

“But that’s good,” she added. “He needs that challenge.”

Next up, he’ll be fitted for a prosthetic arm, and later prosthetic legs. The sooner he can use his limbs and gain independence, the better, Trimble said.

Meanwhile, she is helping him get acclimated to his “new normal” by taking him on outings, whether it’s to Sea World or to play miniature golf. He had a great time golfing, she said, but was saddened by the children’s stares.

“I told him, ‘You know you’re going to have that the rest of your life,’” she said. “‘You are different from everyone else, but that doesn’t say who you are. You still are who you are.’”

The Challenges of Caregiving

It’s been a rough couple of months and Trimble acknowledged the stress that accompanies full-time caregiving. Fearful of the devastating impact of a fall, she isn’t comfortable yet leaving her son alone. And she only has brief respites during appointments or when one of her children is there to help. But even a short break can provide a big recharge, she said.

When she’s not by her son’s side, Trimble finds respite, and solace, in the Warrior and Family Support Center, a sprawling 12,500–square-foot facility here. The center offers a place for families and wounded warriors to relax, reconnect or just have a cup of coffee. Along with computers, video games, movies and books, the center offers a host of outings, and craft classes to service members and their families.

Trimble is a familiar face at the craft tables. One day she’ll be seen weaving baskets, and the next she is building a mosaic or stained glass creation. Her son and other family members often join in, as well. On this day, Kevin and his brother and sister -- visiting here on military leave -- stopped by for a leatherworking class. They joked and laughed as they worked on their creations. Kevin was making a belt with help from his brother, Ben.

As he worked, Kevin said he was grateful for his mom’s presence. “Things would be harder without her,” he acknowledged.

Having family around is vital for a wounded warrior’s recovery, his mother noted. “It’s very important for them to have support,” she said. “Look at Kevin. It’s not even two months and look where he’s at.”

Trimble said they’ll most likely be here for another two years. Her son’s goal is to graduate from the Center for the Intrepid on his 21st birthday, May 22, 2013.

Meanwhile, Trimble has a long road of caregiving ahead, but said she’s up to the task. The toughest challenge for her isn’t the lack of time alone or the stress, she said, it’s seeing her son in pain. “That’s one reason why you want to take a break,” she said. “Knowing that he’s suffering … that’s very hard.”

With two years of separation from her husband looming, Trimble said the time apart will be tough. Plus, she’s worried about how he’s maintaining their home in her absence. “I’m sure no one is running the broom while I’m away,” she joked.

But despite the ongoing struggles, Trimble said she wouldn’t have it any other way. She’ll be by her son’s side for as long as he needs her to be.

“He’s my son. Caring for him … I couldn’t ask for anything more special.”

Military Amputees Find Greater Opportunities to Serve Again

By David Mays
Special to American Forces Press Service

Oct. 5, 2007 - Servicemembers who lose limbs should be enabled to resume active duty, the administrator of Walter Reed Army Medical Center's Amputee Care Center said yesterday. "When you get severely injured, and you look down and you're missing your foot or your leg or your arm, you think that your life is going to be very different," Army Maj. David Rozelle told online journalists and "bloggers" during a conference call. "You can't let that slow you down."

On June 21, 2003, Rozelle was preparing to train a group of Iraqi police recruits in the city of Hit when his vehicle ran over a land mine, blowing off his right foot. After months of intense therapy, Rozelle reassumed his command in Iraq, making him the first amputee to return to the same battlefield on which he was injured since the Civil War.

"My oath of office didn't have an expiration date on it, and I wanted to continue to serve no matter what," Rozelle said. "If I am physically capable to continue to serve, then why not continue to serve, even as a severely injured warrior?"

Rozelle has been a public face in the crusade to allow severely wounded servicemembers to continue their military service. He has called for cutting-edge medical treatment and rehabilitation, as well as policy changes.

"I helped change the model of how we take care of our veterans," Rozelle said. "At one time, we'd patch them up ... get the infection under control ... send them to the VA and send them back home and let Mama take care of them, and, you know, that was a great model back in the 70s, but it doesn't fit our population."

The average age of today's military amputees is 35, Rozelle explained. Another statistic he likes to mention is the suicide rate among amputees from operations Iraqi and Enduring Freedom: zero.

"Out of 701 amputees, all 701 are still alive today, and we're very proud of that," Rozelle said.

New facilities like the Military Advanced Training Center at Walter Reed, which features state-of-the-art computers and video systems, help enhance the recovery process of wounded servicemembers, Rozelle pointed out. Vast improvements in prosthetics also have allowed those with even above-the-knee amputations to do what once was considered impossible, he explained, like distance running.

"This is our commitment: to advance training and to advance rehabilitation, to get folks back healed," Rozelle said. "So they can show up to the unit and say, 'Hey, I'm fit to fight! I just ran the Army Ten-Miler!,' and it's a great example of the achievement we have."

Rozelle is team captain of "Missing Parts in Action," the tongue-in-cheek name for a group of military athletes recovering here at Walter Reed Army Medical Center; Brooke Army Medical Center, at Fort Sam Houston, Texas; and San Diego Navy Medical Center, in California. Thirty of the team's members will compete Oct. 7 in the 23rd running of the Army Ten-Miler at the Pentagon, along with a record 26,000 runners, many of them military members running with their respective units.

"To run by units and have people pass you and pat you on the back or to pass people and pat them on the back really is great for our wounded warriors as they heal," Rozelle said. "It's this normalizing process."

Rozelle said he believes advances that have allowed him and other military amputees to reclaim normal lives and even report back to active duty will help other severely wounded members to do the same.

"I see a future where our spinal cord injuries also could come back on active duty," he said. "Hopefully, the research and development can get to the point where (people with) all of these injuries can return to the battlefield if they want."

On Oct. 7, the battlefield will be a 10-mile route on the streets of Washington, where Rozelle and his team of amputee runners will fight to the finish.

"When you've been injured by a combatant, the message you want to send back to your enemy is that I'm still stronger than you. I am not beat," Rozelle said. "We send that message worldwide whenever we get our picture on the cover of the newspaper or a magazine or the television and it gets around the world; people look at that and say, 'Look at these great American warriors. Even when we blow them up and beat them down, they'll stand up and run again and fight again.' And, you know, we're Americans and that's what we're all about."

Peer Amputee Volunteer Puts Experience, Compassion Into Recovery

By Fred W. Baker III
American Forces Press Service

July 16, 2007 – An admitted golf "nut," Jack Farley said he has heard probably every handicap joke there is, having hit the green for the last four decades wearing a prosthetic right leg. Still, nobody cuts him any slack, he said. "I try to get strokes for this and nobody will give me any strokes," Farley said and laughed.

Farley is a peer amputee visitor at Walter Reed Army Medical Center here. A retired federal judge, Farley is quick with a joke and a smile. He knows nearly everybody at the center it seems and knows nearly everything there is to know about prosthetics.

His right leg was claimed by a mortar in Vietnam nearly 40 years ago. He was fitted for his first prosthesis at Walter Reed. It was there, on a blind date, that Farley met the woman who would later become his wife. It was there he started a new life. If he hadn't lost his leg, Farley said, he wouldn't have returned to college to study law and subsequently would not have become a federal judge. It is only fitting, Farley said, that he returns to help others.

"It's a sense of paying back. I had mentors and people visiting me when I was here in Walter Reed in 1969 and '70," he said. "I get more out of it than they do. It's a real selfish act on my part."

The peer visitor program began four years ago at Walter Reed when, due to the war in Iraq, an influx of amputees started entering the hospital system. It began with a small group of amputees experienced in visiting and listening and helping new amputees and has grown into a formal program offering training and certification. Peer amputee visitors are considered part of the treatment team at the center. They have access to every floor.

"In the beginning our job is just to listen. I don't come in and say, 'Hey, look at me,'" Farley said. "The peer visitor comes in and just tries to deal with the family and deal with the patient, explaining that life is going to be different, but whether it's better or worse it's still up to the patient."

On this visit, Farley talked with Marine Lance Cpl. Josh Bleill, who lost both legs in Iraq when the Humvee in which he was riding struck a bomb. It killed two fellow Marines, one riding to the front and one to the left of him. The gunner lost his right leg. Remarkably, the driver was uninjured and is still serving in Iraq, Josh said.

Josh was getting a new socket, the piece of the prosthetic leg in which the residual portion of the leg fits. New bone growth in Josh's leg rubbed against his old socket, causing pain.

Wearing a pair of khaki shorts, Farley sported a star-spangled socket -- blue with white stars, just like an American flag. It is the most important piece of the prosthetic leg, he said.

"You can put a million dollars in technology below the socket, but if it doesn't fit right or is uncomfortable, nobody is going to wear it," he said.

Josh said Farley's experience sometimes helps him explain things to the doctors and technicians that are hard to put into words.

The program consistently receives the highest ratings from patients at the center, he said.

"It's a great program," Josh said. "It's nice to see when you are first injured that there is life after this."

Farley said his role changes during the progress of the amputee. Each goes through five stages: enduring, suffering, reckoning, reconciling and normalization.

For many, though, there is a sixth stage -- thriving, Farley said.

"You'll see people who actually accomplish more having gone through the trauma ... than they would without it," Farley said.

"I wouldn't have gone to law school. I already had an MBA. I was going into business. I would have never been a lawyer, much less a federal judge," Farley said. "By overcoming this in a positive way, it actually can assist you in other challenges in life."

Farley said that some younger servicemembers resist help at first. He told the story of a young man who was trying to do everything himself, resisting the helpful efforts of a new bride.

"He wanted to do everything himself," Farley said. "One day I just pulled him aside and said, "You know, the greatest gift of love you can give is to maybe allow somebody to help you.

"Later on, we all realize we need the help of everybody," he said.