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BACK FROM THE BRINK: VETS WITH NEAR-FATAL INJURIES

FEATURED IN DOCUMENTARY -- "Sometimes I forget to

take meat out of the freezer for dinner. So I say, well,

I guess I'm eating cereal."

 

 

For more about traumatic injuries, use the VA Watchdog search engine...click here...
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Story here... http://www.mercury
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Story below:

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Vets back from the brink

Local man who nearly died featured in documentary

By Susan Young
STAFF WRITER
Contra Costa Times

Jay Wilkerson says poetry is the only bridge between this life and the one before Iraq.

In the cubby area outside his bedroom that serves as his office hangs a framed version of his award-winning poem, close to his Purple Heart:

"As I gaze beyond who I see in the mirror

With a look of confusion

I wonder and regenerate my memory of who I am

When looking at the image in the mirror."

Wilkerson, a graduate of Richmond High School, is one of the war-wounded soldiers featured on "Alive Day Memories: Home From Iraq," a documentary that looks at the experiences of veterans who have suffered near-fatal injuries. It was executive-produced by James Gandolfini, who also conducts the interviews.

Thanks to medical advances and new technologies, soldiers are surviving wounds that would have killed them in previous wars. In World War II, 30 percent of those wounded died. The number dropped to 24 percent during Vietnam and now only about 10 percent of the wounded perish in Iraq, according to government reports and the New England Journal of Medicine.

In Iraq, most of the wounds are caused by improvised explosive devices that, when planted on roads, rip through the fragile undercarriage of the military vehicles. These bombs are the No. 1 killer of American forces.

Wilkerson, 42, was riding in such a vehicle on March 28 last year when the blast tore off the side of his cheek and he suffered severe brain trauma.

"Two weeks after graduation, I was in basic training in Chicago," says Wilkerson says of his lifelong dedication to the military. "I served in the Navy for 10 years, then I went into the Army because the Navy wasn't exciting enough for me. I wanted to get closer to the action."

Staff Sgt. Wilkerson, a gunner, tactical driver and scout, was in Baghdad when his vehicle exploded around him when an IED was detonated. His friend, sitting right next to him, was killed.

It's been slow going to get vehicles better equipped to survive IEDs. A plan to put 3,500 Mine Resistant Ambush Protected vehicles into Iraq before the end of the year has been troubled with production and delivery issues, with only about half that amount now expected to make it to Iraq on time.

Even with the new vehicles, Iraqi insurgents have already come up with another type of bomb -- explosively formed penetrators -- that can gore the MRAPs.

"I always believed what the president said, and I went (to serve in Iraq). And when I got there, the reasons were not just, and the words were not acceptable nor successful. It's a total failure today," says Wilkerson, who was deployed to Iraq in April 2004. "Collectively, all we are to President Bush are numbers. Personally, he knows no one's personal life. He never came personally and spoke to any of us about how we feel, how our hearts feel, how we feel about our families crying about us every night."

Wilkerson, on the verge of death at Bethesda, was put into an induced coma for eight days.

"I was glad when I woke up in Walter Reed hospital, but every time I woke up, I didn't know if I was at home or in Iraq," Wilkerson says. "So I asked a nurse to put an American flag in my room so I would know."

His sister Tia, of San Pablo, and brother Tomy and sister-in-law Chandra, of El Sobrante, rushed to his side, spending a month with him while he struggled to survive.

"We were there for him to take care of all that paperwork," Tomy Wilkerson says. "We told him he didn't have to worry about anything but getting better."

When he was stronger, and with his family's help, he was transferred to the V.A. hospital in Palo Alto.

"Luckily, we lived in an area that has one of the best veterans hospitals in the country," says Tomy Wilkerson. "There are a lot of soldiers who didn't have the support of their families, and I think that was key in Jay's recovery that he was able to move here to be close to us."

Jay Wilkerson still goes to therapy at the Menlo Park division of the Palo Alto V.A. hospital. His injuries weren't as readily apparent as those of some other soldiers featured in the documentary. Aside from the scarring on his cheek and arms, he speaks slowly with a stutter, and his face often displays tics. The processor in his brain has been damaged, so daily life holds many challenges.

Wilkerson looks younger than his 42 years, and says he feels like he's a 6-year-old trapped in a man's body, trying to relearn everything from getting dressed to using a handheld computer, which he calls his "plastic brain," to help him remember. He has been allowed to stay on active duty until he retires in October 2008.

A visit last week to his Mountain View apartment reveals a man determined to get beyond his injuries and start his new life. He recently bought a car and is able to drive himself around.

Wilkerson lives alone, near a friend who also received treatment at the V.A. hospital. His tidy apartment shows his commitment to organization, a trait he had before the attack and one that serves him well in his new life. His closet has meticulous lines of shoes on the floor and clothes hanging neatly. One shelf holds a carved, wooden replica of his tank given to him by an officer after his injury.

His two children, Precious, 15, and Manuel, 9, live with their mother in Maryland. Wilkerson gets frustrated when he can't remember their names, but today the memories come more easily to him. He repeats himself often, but is always gracious and in good spirits.

"Sometimes I forget to take meat out of the freezer for dinner," he says, shaking his head. "So I say, well, I guess I'm eating cereal."

He's excited and proud about the ceremony on Thursday, when he'll be receiving the Bronze Star, the military's highest honor.

And he hopes one day soon to attend nearby De Anza college.

When he's ready.

As he sits on his front patio, waiting for his new dining room set to arrive, he gets a bit anxious. He talks about how he sometimes forgets to eat or can't quite remember where things are. He'd like to use MapQuest to get around, but says that the steps to use a computer often evade his sketchy memory.

"There are so many simple things that I just can't do anymore. My brain just doesn't know how to figure out how to do things," Wilkerson says. "I get embarrassed and don't want to ask anyone for help. I've been an independent person my whole life. It's not easy having to depend on other people now."

Reach Susan Young at syoung@bayareanewsgroup.com  or 925-945-4705.

DOCUMENTARY

# WHAT: "Alive Day Memories: Home From Iraq"

# WHERE: HBO

# WHEN: 10:30 p.m. Sunday

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Larry Scott  --