Wounded Soldiers Are Adapting to Altered Lives
By Timothy Dwyer
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, August 11, 2004; Page A01
Archie Staley sat on a silver stool in a small office in the depths of Walter Reed Army Medical Center and stared straight into the eyes of Vince A. Przybyla Jr.
Staley is 20 years old, a U.S. Army tank driver with a quick wit and an accent lush with the tones of the mountains of western North Carolina, where he grew up. Staley was nearly killed when a mortar round exploded and blew him 15 feet into the air on a roadside north of Baghdad on Easter Sunday. He lost his left eye and his face was crushed, burned and scarred by shrapnel, which also pierced his neck, cutting his carotid artery.
Every war has its toll, measured in stark numbers representing those who are killed and wounded. But the numbers don't show the emotional toll of war, the impact each death has on families and the life changes forced on those who suddenly find themselves without a leg to walk on, a hand to button a shirt or lace a shoe, or a lung to catch a breath. Depression is common among recovering soldiers, and it often turns to frustration as they face the task of figuring out what they are going to do with the rest of their lives because plans changed in the time it took for a mortar round to explode.
Families of the 750 U.S. soldiers who have died in action in Iraq and Afghanistan have buried their loved ones and then faced life without them. But for the 6,113 soldiers wounded in the war on terrorism, the issues are even more fundamental. For many of them, Washington and its military hospitals are the first stop in the journey to the rest of their lives -- a place to heal their wounds, replace lost limbs and plan their futures....
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A54883-2004Aug10.html