By Major Douglas R. Cullins, USMC
I had been wrestling with "issues" for many years, but I don't think anyone, including myself, was aware of how severe it was getting. What began as splitting headaches and balance problems escalated into something that eventually overcame my ability to carry on the fight as a Marine.
My symptoms began when I returned from Operation Iraqi Freedom. Ringing in the ears, light sensitivity - I didn't pay much attention and simply buried myself in work. Sure, I was involved in some firefights and had some close calls, but it was nothing extraordinary.
Fast forward a few years and I found myself in the enviable position as a company commander in 3rd Battalion, 7th Regiment. I had the honor of serving with those Marines in Ramadi and we were fortunate to make it through unscathed. I was still quietly battling my symptoms, doing my best to go unnoticed and have a successful company command tour.
My condition, though, continued to degrade. After talking to my battalion commander before our second deployment, it was agreed that I would transition from command of weapons company to headquarters and service company.
I didn't last long in Iraq and was medevaced in the first month for balance problems. I landed at Naval Medical Center San Diego and spent what I considered three utterly shameful months away from the Marines, desperately trying to convince the providers that I was fit for duty. My ruse worked and I made it back to the 3/7 to finish out the deployment.
While in Iraq, I was diagnosed with a minor traumatic brain injury and the specialist thought it was the reason for my ailments. The doc and I agreed that I would get through the deployment and seek treatment upon return.
I received orders to report to Expeditionary Warfare School and serve on the faculty. I was promoted a year later, but my physical and mental problems were getting worse. I did try to get back into the treatment pipeline several times but to no avail.
By summer 2010, I was on the brink of disaster, mentally and physically. It seemed my world had been turned upside down. I was a Marine in distress. Denying treatment was no longer an option. My health now critical, my career and family life hung in the balance.
Through the actions and concern of some close friends and my leadership, I was taken offline and the wagons were circled around me. My leadership, from reporting senior to the commanding general, had a vested interest in my recovery. I will forever remember what my brothers have done for me and my family.
After months of appointments with frustratingly little progress, I was offered a spot at the new National Intrepid Center of Excellence at Bethesda, a state-of-the-art facility designed to study, diagnose and treat TBI and PTSD.
I was finally receiving the close attention that I had required for years. I was diagnosed with minor TBI, PTSD and some stress-related chronic illnesses. Moreover, treatment was actually improving my condition. Through physical and balance therapy, as well as virtual reality treatment, I was set back on the tracks.
I am back at EWS, having a firm grasp—and acceptance—of my condition and armed with the knowledge that it is treatable. I know I will be healed; it's only a factor of time. The journey has not been an easy one, nor is it complete. My mission is to continue healing and apply the lessons I've learned as a combat leader and a wounded Marine.
Lessons Learned:
- There are many fissures in our treatment pipeline. If it was as difficult for me to get treatment as a persistent and well-resourced major, how many lance corporals are getting the runaround?
- PTSD is real and officers are not immune. I am not a weak Marine, but it nearly got the best of me. There is still stigma associated with it, despite recent attempts at educating our force. Many will say it's nonsense, and they're entitled to their opinion. The fact is the burdens we carry as Marines (taking enemy lives and having Marines killed) is nothing new. PTSD is nothing new. How we deal with it is.
- Families can and do play a critical role in a Marine's recovery. Ensure they are involved in the treatment process.
- Identifying the problem and preventing a Marine from reaching his tipping point is our charge. Sometimes "good enough" isn't.
- Keep Marines in the fight. Wounded Marines can't be allowed to sit alone on the sideline or threatened to be pushed out of the service. Several providers seemed determined to end my active-duty career, which had the effect of me clamming up and continuing to ignore my problems.
- If your Marine is struggling, get personally involved in his treatment and hold him and the providers accountable. Keep him in the fight at work and don't let him feel sidelined.
- Share your story. It might help someone who needs help to get it.
(First published in Spring 2011)
A Deployment Pro