Happy Military Spouse Appreciation Day!

Stuck Like Glue

SSG Lupe Maldonado and his wife Yery at their battalion
ball in Feb. 2013, and in the hospital following his surgery
less than two months later, in April 2013. 

Unless you've been part of a military community, you can't know how strong the bonds that form between battle buddies, neighbors, and friends are.  We, as Army wives, sometimes take those connections for granted.  Within the walls of the Fort Hood community, it's commonplace for your neighbor's husband to cut your grass or unclog your toilet for you because your own husband is away; for you to take a carful of kids, only one of whom is  yours, to all of their respective schools first thing in the morning because "you had to go out anyway"; to often make two dinners at night- one for your family and one for the family across the street, just because you know your friend is having a rough day.

But here's something you may or may not remember from your former life- it's not like that everywhere else.  It's not like that anywhere else, really.  The whole, "we're all one big family" mentality is truly something that's unique to military life.  I've always known that.  But I've never seen it displayed more mightily than in this past week.

My name is Jenn Carpenter, and I am the author of a little story floating around the interwebz right now titled "Fighting For Life: One Soldier's Tale of Unspeakable Tragedy and Unwavering Strength."  (Or, if you read it on the Army Wife Network's site, "Lupe's Fight.")  If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend that you do.  Like now.  If you're short on time, here's a quick synopsis:

SSG Lupe Maldonado, a Fort Hood soldier and three-time war veteran preparing for an upcoming deployment, was recently diagnosed with stage four colon cancer.  What Army doctors misdiagnosed for YEARS, civilian doctors found and diagnosed within three days when the Maldonados got tired of getting substandard care at an Army hospital and went to a "regular hospital."  After Lupe's diagnosis, Tricare denied his possibly life-saving surgery because he was being treated at a civilian hospital instead of at the same Army hospital that had been turning him away and misdiagnosing him for years.  The Maldonados went to war with Tricare and got the surgery approved.  During Lupe's surgery, which was last week, it was discovered that his cancer has spread and is now inoperable.  Lupe is now fighting an uphill battle toward recovery, and has no legal recourse as military doctors cannot be sued for malpractice.  He and his wife, Yery, live in Copperas Cove and have three young children.  They are hoping to have Lupe accepted into MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston for treatment.

As a friend of Yery's, I watched from afar as this horrific story unfolded.  I worried right along with her as she talked about how frustrated she was that her husband was in pain and no one seemed to care.  I was cautiously optimistic when Lupe finally had a CT scan and colonoscopy done.  I was heartbroken when I learned of his diagnosis.  And I was LIVID when Tricare denied coverage for his surgery the night before it was scheduled to take place.  I was relieved when, the following morning, they approved it.  I was hopeful during his five hour surgery.  And I was devastated when Yery shared the news that Lupe's cancer had spread and was inoperable.  I felt compelled to do something, I just wasn't sure what.

Given that she'd been so open and forthcoming about the entire situation via social media, I decided to approach Yery and see if she wanted help taking her story public.  You know how they say that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?  Yeah, that.  She was ready to share her story with the world.  And I was more than willing to help her.  I interviewed Yery for a long time and did lots of on-line research, then spent hours crying and writing.  When I was finished, I hit "publish" and I knew.  I knew I'd done something big.  Something important.  I just didn't know how big or how important.

Within hours, the story had gone viral.  It seemed like it was EVERYWHERE.  The Fight for Lupe Facebook page was getting likes and wall posts and messages faster than we could process them.  The Fort Hood Army Wives organization reached out and started putting together a meal sign-up to provide the Maldonados with food for the next several weeks.  Within minutes of  a request being put out for a recliner to borrow for Lupe to sit in while he recovered from surgery, Ashley Furniture in Killeen, TX contacted us and offered to donated a brand new, $1300 leather lift chair to Lupe.  They delivered it the following morning.  Military assistance organizations, news stations wanting to further spread Lupe's story, politicians, and thousands and thousands of people, many of them from the Fort Hood area, were offering help, advice, services, goods, money.....it was overwhelming.  I spent most of the day in tears, my heart overflowing with pride and joy and happiness for my friends, who finally had something to smile about; who finally didn't feel so alone.

Together with Yery and her best friend and guardian angel Sammi Jo, who's been by her side every step of the way through this nightmarish journey, I started putting together fundraisers and press releases and answering the hundreds (thousands?  I lost count) of messages we received in just a few hour's time.  Lupe's story continues to spread.  His support network continues to grow.  As I sit here writing this, a mere three days after the craziness began, I feel like my entire world has changed.  Because it has.  I have seen the absolute best in our military community, and it has restored my faith that not all hope is lost for this crazy world we live in.  Yes, there is a lot of bad, but there is so, so much more good. 

There is a man, a soldier who has risked his life for his country on three separate tours of duty, who is upset that his illness will prevent him from doing that a fourth time when his unit deploys later this year.  Despite all he's facing, he's still cracking jokes and grinning from ear to ear when he's not in excruciating pain.  There is a woman who is taking care of three young children, one of whom has special medical needs, as well as her husband, who is recovering from surgery and preparing for chemotherapy, while still going to school and trying to get her assignments in on time.  She is exhausted and overwhelmed.  She breaks down and she cries.  But she still smiles and laughs and takes the time to thank everyone, repeatedly, for the support that's being given to her and her family.  There is her friend, a mother of two young children with her own family and home to take care of, who has turned her life and her schedule upside down to make sure that the Maldonados have everything they need at all times, be it someone to watch their kids, moral support, a clean house, food, etc.

And then there are all of you, many of you complete strangers to the Maldonados, coming together to take care of one of your own.  Inspired is not a strong enough word.  Changed.  I am forever changed by this experience already.  And proud.  I am so proud of my friends, who are stronger than I could every hope to be in a situation such as the one they're facing; and proud to be a part of a community of some of the most caring, compassionate, amazing people on the planet: Fort Hood Army Wives.

Visit the Fight for Lupe Facebook page for more information: www.facebook.com/fightforlupe

~~~~~~~~

Jenn Carpenter is the proud wife of an Iraq War veteran, mother to four amazing boys, a published author, and a blogger for the Army Wife Network and Fort Hood Army Wives.  In 2012, Jenn released her first published work, One Army Wife's Tale- her personal memoir about life as the wife of a soldier at war.  Her first novel, Hardwood Floors, was published in April 2013.  Visit here fore more: www.jenncarpenter.com

This story was originally posted on the Fort Hood Army Wives website.  Due to privacy settings on the page, only members can acces its content, so it is being re-shared here so that those following Lupe's story may read it.

Fighting For Life: One Family's Tale of Unspeakable Tragedy and Unwavering Strength

SSG Lupe Maldonado, United States Army

When a woman falls in love with a soldier, she knows she’s taking a chance.  She knows that she is giving her heart to a man who has given his life to the military.  She knows that she will very likely send him off to war, possibly more than once.  She knows that there will be lots of lonely, sleepless nights and lots of tears shed.  And she knows that it is his duty, his obligation, to risk his life for his country.

So when young mother Yery Ortiz fell in love with a goofy guy with an infectious smile who just happened to be a soldier and Iraq War veteran, it wasn’t without caution. “I was kinda scared at first, because I didn’t want to get my heart broken and I didn’t want to lose him to war,” Yery remembers.  She knew it would be hard.  She knew his job was dangerous.  But she never imagined the circumstances under which her soldier would wind up fighting for his life.  No one could have predicted that.

She knew his job was dangerous.  But she never imagined the circumstances under which her soldier would wind up fighting for his life.

Yery met and fell in love with Lupe Maldonado just before Valentine’s Day, 2008.  She loved the fact that he was mature and had a great deal of life experience.  He was drawn to her fiery spirit and zest for life.  Together, they loved to go dancing, camping, and hiking.  They moved in together and began building a life with Yery’s two-year-old son from a previous relationship, Gael, who was diagnosed with type one diabetes at just nine months old.  But then, as he so often does in military life, Uncle Sam came calling.  Lupe received orders for a one year deployment to Iraq.  He would be overseas for virtually all of 2009.

Just two months before Lupe’s third deployment (Yery’s first), they found out Yery was pregnant with twins.  Alone with a special-needs toddler throughout her pregnancy, the man she loved in a war zone, Yery tried not to worry too much when Lupe began confiding in her that he thought there was something wrong with him.  He began experiencing blood in his stools, but was simply told by Army medics in Iraq that he had hemorrhoids.  With everything else going on, Lupe tried to put the issue out of his mind, even though the problem persisted.

Lupe returned from Iraq in December 2009, when the twins, Josh and Vivian, were six months old.  He and Yery were married in February 2010, the same month he went to an on-post medical clinic at Fort Hood to again seek treatment for abdominal pain and blood in his stools.  The doctors performed tests and declared Lupe fit for duty, failing to inform him that his stool samples came back abnormal and that blood tests revealed he was anemic.  (This information would not be discovered until years later.)

The Maldonados were relocated from Fort Hood, TX to Fort Benning, GA in July 2010.  Just two years later, in July 2012, they were transferred back to Fort Hood, where Lupe began training for an upcoming deployment to Afghanistan.  They moved in across the street from another young Army family: Specialist Christopher Marsh, his wife Sammi Jo, and their two little girls.  Yery and Sammi Jo became fast friends.  Says Sammi Jo, “We began to depend on each other for any and everything.  Being Army wives made that easier because we understood each other.  Lupe was part of that deal.  He put my Christmas lights up when my husband was gone, even though they were hung backwards so I could never light them up, and was always there with Yery to make me laugh.  And vice versa.”

The Maldonados: Josh, Lupe, Gael, Yery and Vivian

Yery got involved with the Family Readiness Group and quickly became a go-to girl for military spouses in need, always more than happy to lend a helping hand.  In early 2013, Lupe began experiencing severe abdominal pain.  He visited several different on-post clinics as well as the emergency room at Carl R. Darnall Army Medical Center at Fort Hood on more than one occasion, all while continuing to train for his upcoming deployment.  He was scheduled for a colonoscopy more than a month out.  His pain continued to worsen.  On March 29, 2013, Yery took Lupe back to the emergency room at Darnall, where the Lieutenant Colonel who treated him appeared more concerned about Lupe’s upcoming training and deployment schedule than his health, according to Yery. The doctor diagnosed him with a pulled muscle, prescribed him an anti-inflammatory, and sent him home.

At her wit’s end, tired of seeing her husband in such agony, and confident that Lupe was being repeatedly misdiagnosed and receiving substandard care, Yery consulted Lupe’s Chain of Command, who suggested that she take him to a civilian hospital off-post.  The following morning, on March 30, 2013, she did exactly that.  Doctors at Seton Harker Heights Medical Center were horrified that nothing had been done for Lupe, considering the severity of his symptoms.  They admitted him immediately and ordered a CT scan.  Convinced that Lupe was suffering from diverticulitis or polyps, Yery was relieved to be on the verge of finally getting some answers.  But neither Yery nor Lupe were prepared for what doctors found.

The CT scan revealed a mass on Lupe’s colon.  A colonoscopy later that day revealed multiple malignant tumors in Lupe’s descending colon.  Cancer.  The Maldonados were devastated.  Lupe was released from the hospital while his new, non-Army doctors formulated a treatment plan.  The decision was made to remove the cancerous portion of Lupe’s colon.  His surgery was scheduled for April 12, 2013.  It was an outpatient procedure, so Yery expected to be able to take her husband home that same day, possibly the next morning.  Yery’s best friend and guardian angel, Sammi Jo, would take care of the children the day of the procedure and overnight that night if necessary.  Lupe’s cancer, which went undiagnosed by Army doctors for years, would be removed.  And then he would begin the road to recovery.

This hero, who had risked his life fighting for his country many times over, had to plead with his insurance company to shell out a few dollars to try to save his life in return.

The night before Lupe’s surgery, the Maldonados were contacted with some startling news.  Tricare, the military’s health insurance for service members and their families, denied coverage for Lupe’s surgery because he was diagnosed and scheduled for treatment at a non-military facility by civilian doctors.  Their argument was that if he was really that sick, he should have gone to the hospital located on post- the same hospital that had turned him away and misdiagnosed him multiple times.

So, the morning her husband was scheduled to undergo surgery for life-threatening cancer, Yery instead found herself battling it out with the powers-that-be at the insurance company, fighting for the benefits her husband had spent over a decade earning.  This hero, who has risked his life fighting for his country many times over, had to plead with his insurance company to shell out a few dollars to try to save his life in return.  A veteran of multiple wars, an active duty Staff Sergeant upset about not being able to deploy with his unit, fighting for his life after years of misdiagnosis by military doctors, had to beg his insurance company to give him a chance to live.  After hours of hard-fought negotiation, Tricare approved Lupe’s surgery.  He and Yery headed straight from the insurance company to the hospital.  Their nightmare was almost over.  Or so they thought.

Lupe and Yery at the Brigade Ball in Feb. 2013, and in the hospital following Lupe's surgery less than two months later.

During Lupe’s five hour surgery, Yery had nothing but time to worry about her husband and reflect on the nightmarish journey they’d found themselves on.  She felt the Army had betrayed her, her husband, and her family.  And she had absolutely no recourse.  Military doctors are protected under The Feres Doctrine, a 1950 Supreme Court ruling forbidding active-duty military personnel and their families from suing the federal government for medical malpractice.  That means that regardless of the circumstances, military doctors, nurses, physician’s assistants, etc. (a.k.a. federal employees) cannot be sued for malpractice.  They are not held accountable for their actions, or lack thereof.

Following Lupe’s surgery, doctors had more bad news for the Maldonados.  Lupe’s cancer had spread from his colon to his spleen, pancreas, and lymph nodes.  It was inoperable.  His surgery was deemed exploratory, and he was diagnosed with stage four colon cancer.  He was kept in the hospital for several days following his surgery as doctors tried to manage his excruciating pain.  Yery hardly left her husband’s side.  Sammi Jo continued to care for the Maldonados’ children, who have been told very little about their father’s condition.  Explains Yery, “The kids cry at night because their dad is not home.  They know something is up.  I told them that daddy has little things in his belly that are making him sick, but doctors are trying to fix it.”

Military doctors are protected under The Feres Doctrine, a 1950 Supreme Court ruling forbidding active-duty military personnel and their families from suing the federal government for medical malpractice.

Lupe was released from the hospital on April 16, 2013.  Once he has healed from surgery, he will begin chemotherapy.  According to Yery, Lupe’s chance of recovery is around 40%.  But they refuse to give up.  “They are strong, amazing people and I know they can get through this,” says Sammi Jo.  “They just need all the support they can get.  Be there.  Be strong for them when they can’t.”  While Yery can count on her Army family to be there for her during these darkest of days, she’s lost faith in the Army itself.  “Our soldiers are not taken care of.  It seems like the Army just doesn’t care.  They use their soldiers, and then when they can’t do the work anymore, they just throw them away.”

For more on the Maldonados, visit the "Fight for Lupe" Facebook page: www.facebook.com/fightforlupe

Due to the overwhelming response to Lupe's story and the requests from so many of you to donate to the family, a donation page has been set up for the Maldonado family. 

Please donate here:

www.gofundme.com/fightforlupe

Normal

A couple weeks ago, The Hubs, The Teenager, E-Man and I went out to dinner with some friends.  We met them at the new restaurant just down the street from our house, not for any particular reason- just because.  As we were walking into the restaurant, the kids bickering and picking at each other (as usual), our friends running a few minutes late, I realized something. 

For the first time, maybe in our entire lives together, we were just a normal family.  (I use the term normal loosely- I mean, come on now.)  Sure, The Hubs had spent the entire day on the other side of the state at the VA hospital, running from appointment to appointment.  And yes, my brain was fried from "authoring" as I call it- updating all of my blogs, writing my monthly piece for the Army Wife Network, and  editing my soon-to-be novel.

But…..my ACU purse clearly labeling me as an “Army Wifey” was hanging in the closet at home.  (I’d just recently switched it out with my “normal” purse.)  The dog tags I often wore were hanging from a photo of me and The Hubs at home on our dresser instead of around my neck.  The Hubs was wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt and a baseball hat, so his Infantry tattoos were undetectable and his Army-bald head was hidden.  I wasn’t clinging to him for dear life, having either just gotten him home or trying  to prepare to say goodbye again.  The kids weren’t awkward around him, still adjusting to having him home for a visit, knowing he would be leaving again soon.  

Our friends weren’t overly excited to see The Hubs, there were no hugs or “welcome homes,” it was just, “Hi, Dax.”  They see him all the time.  Our outing wasn’t a welcome home party or a going away get together- it was just dinner.  Finally, FINALLY, we weren’t a family separated by thousands of miles and torn apart by war.  We were just a family.  We ARE just a family.  And that’s the best feeling in the world.

Hardwood Floors: One Step Closer

My original goal was to be done writing Hardwood Floors by last fall and have it published by early winter.  That didn't exactly work out how I'd planned.  Life kind of got in the way.  BUT.  I'm back on track.  And last night, I reached a HUGE milestone.  I finally finished re-reading and editing the first 200+ pages that I originally wrote five, six years ago. It's not exactly the way I would write it now (I like to think my author muscle has gotten stronger since then), but it's still pretty good, I think.  I hope.  Anywho....now that I'm "back in the zone" and ready to finish writing my first novel, which hopefully won't take too long, I thought I'd share the first few chapters (which works out to be about the first 55 pages) with you all in hopes of getting some feedback.  Enjoy!

UPDATE: Because the post containing the beginning of Hardwood Floors was SOOO massive, I moved it to its own site.  You can view it here: Hardwood Floors Sneak Preview.  If you take the time to read it, please let me know what you think!

Coming Out of the Closet

My books packed away in my closet, where dreams go to die.

When I self-published One Army Wife’s Tale last August, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have ridiculously high expectations.  I was sure it would spread like wildfire, from my friends and family and the OAWT network to their friends and family and so on and so on until it was everywhere.  Until everyone had read it.  Until I had publicists and agents and publishers banging down my door, begging to sign contracts and obtain publishing rights and movie rights.

The moment the print version of OAWT was officially released, I thought, “This is it.  This is the moment everything changes.”  And for a while, it did.  I sold out of copies of the book at the official release party.  I lined up book signings in Michigan and Texas.  I was honored by the school board in my hometown, and an idea was even thrown out by the school board president to dedicate a portion of the library at my old high school to me and my book.  I was featured in news articles and interviewed for radio programs and TV news pieces.  The feedback I was getting for the book was encouraging.

I was “famous.”  Well….not really.  But I was on my way to famous.  My book was on its way to being on bookshelves in homes all over the country.  It was just a matter of time before the calls and offers started rolling in.  But my phone never rang.  There were no offers.  There were no more events lined up, no more friends or family members that needed copies of my book, and no other ways I could think of to promote it.

The final dagger in my “road to fame and fortune” coffin came when I attended the Fort Hood Army Wives Fall Expo as a special guest, almost two months after I published my book.  It was a huge opportunity.  The Fort Hood community is where I have my biggest following.  It’s where my husband was stationed and it’s where our Army family is.  It’s also where I got my start writing for the masses, as a blogger for the Fort Hood Army Wives website. 

The trip was also a huge expense.  I had to pay for plane tickets, promotional materials, and enough books to sign and sell at the event.  But how many books was “enough?”  And how many would be too many?  After consulting with my business manager (a.k.a. my best friend who has been helping me with the logistics of everything), we decided that I should take no less than 100 copies of the book to the event in Texas.  Even if I didn’t sell them all at the expo, I would be able to get rid of them in no time, right?  Wrong.  I came home from Texas with two full boxes of my precious book, having signed and sold less than a dozen copies at the event.  I’ve sold maybe five more copies in the four months since.

I decided that I couldn’t keep spending all my time trying to promote and market my book.  It was exhausting and the lack of response was depressing.  I had a life to live.  The Hubs had just moved back home after being honorably discharged from the Army.  The kids were in school.  There were baseball games and football games and practices to go to.  I had a full time job that took up all of my daytime hours and a full time family that took up all of my night time hours.

My career as an “author” was over.  I tried, but I failed.  Sure, I wrote a book.  A good book, at that.  But it was never going to go further than my circle of family and friends and the network of followers I’d amassed through blogging for OAWT, Fort Hood Army Wives, and the Army Wife Network.  I took the big, heavy boxes of books and packed them away in my bedroom closet, along with a myriad of unfinished projects and clothes I can’t fit into.  My closet is the place dreams go to die.  There was no better place for me to hide my humiliation.

Then, a few weeks ago, an incredible thing happened.  I was scouring through my Facebook messages, looking for a particular bit of information, when I saw something I’d never noticed before.  Next to the inbox tab was another tab, “Other.”  How long had that been there?  I clicked on it.  And what I found in this “other” folder changed everything.

Apparently, the other folder is where Facebook files messages they deem to be possible spam, messages from people not on your list of friends.  And my other folder was full of messages, most of which were from my fans.  Fans?  I guess I can’t really think of another word for people I don’t know who have read my book and wanted to tell me how much they loved/enjoyed/appreciated it.  Some of the messages were over a year old, from back when OAWT was still just a blog.  Some were much more recent.

The entirety of them left me in tears and overwhelmed.  My story was helping other Army wives.  People could relate to it.  People loved it.  I had FANS.  I decided then and there that it was time for me to stop feeling sorry for myself and thinking I was a failure.  Because I’m not.  I wrote a freakin’ book!  A good, relevant, important book.  A story that connects with complete strangers.  A story I need to find a way to share with the world.

It was time for me to come out of the closet.  My dream is NOT dead.  It’s just going to take more time and work to reach it than I had originally hoped.  But I know it will be worth it.  So I pulled those boxes of books out of my closet, dusted them off (literally….they were covered with it), and decided it’s time to try again.

Two days ago, I did something I’ve been putting off for over half a year.  I submitted One Army Wife’s Tale to a literary agency.  It was scary and nerve wracking, but I’m so glad I did it.  According to the agency’s website, I will hear from them within two weeks if they’re “interested.”  So now I wait.  I’m 99% sure I’ll never hear from them.  And I’m 100% sure I’ll be having ice cream for dinner on that fourteenth day, when I know for sure that they’ve rejected me.

But then I’ll dust myself off and try again.  Two of today’s most successful authors, J.K. Rowling and Stephenie Meyer, had hundreds of doors slammed in their faces before they got their books published.  They’re famous today because they didn’t let rejection stop them.  They kept going.  Now, I’m not saying OAWT is going to be the next Harry Potter or the next Twilight.  That’s a bit of a stretch.  I’m just saying that it’s going to be something- that it deserves better than to be locked away in a closet, collecting dust.  And so do I.

Wake-Up Call

As mornings go in our house, The Hubs is always up first.  His alarm goes off at the ridiculous hour of 5 am. Mine goes off an hour later.  On days we don’t have the boys, I get even another hour of sleep on top of that.  So this kidless morning, after he kissed me goodbye and left for work, I settled in for another hour and a half of glorious sleep.  I scooted in toward the center of the bed, with my toes dangling off one end and my fingertips stretched out to the complete opposite end.  I had my head half on my super squishy pillow and half on my husband’s super fluffy pillow.  I was hogging all the blankets and loving every minute of it.  “I love having the bed all to myself,” I thought.  What a silly thought to have.

Because that thought led to other thoughts- thoughts of having the bed all to myself for almost the entire first year and a half of our marriage; of never being able to get comfortable and never feeling at peace as I tossed and turned in a queen-sized torture chamber that was entirely too big for me, even with all of my sadness and loneliness keeping me company.  How quickly we forget, huh?

How could I ever take for granted, even for a second, how incredibly lucky I am to be able to sleep in the same bed with my husband every night, especially after not having that as an option for so long?  How many nights did I stay awake, wishing he was in bed beside me instead of on the other side of the globe, in the middle of a war zone?  Hundreds.   How many military wives wouldn’t kill to be in my position- to have their husbands home to have to share the blankets and fight for the good pillow and get woken up unnecessarily by an early morning alarm clock?  Thousands.

I suddenly felt incredibly guilty for having a such a seemingly innocent thought, that it was nice to have the bed to myself.  How could I forget what it was like to live without my husband so quickly?  As I was pondering all of this, another thought occurred to me: I was wasting my sleeping time.  I scooted back to my side of the bed, gave up half of the blankets, and closed my eyes, still able to smell my husband’s scent on his pillow.  I pretended he was right there next to me as I started drifting off to sleep.  And then…..my alarm went off.  What a wake-up call...