HOME FIRES: Five Iraq War Veterans on Their Return to American Life

Welcome to My Civilian Life

By Michael Jernigan

June 25, 2007, 9:31 pm

For my final post here, I’d like to give you a little tour of the last year and half of my life. It covers a lot of ground, so hang on.

In January of 2006 I finally moved home to St. Pete as a civilian. My first order of business was to attend Southeastern Guide Dog School, in Palmetto, Fla, for a 26-day training program. I received a 3-year-old Goldador (Lab/Golden Retriever mix) named Kera. The training program reminded me of being in the military. We woke up early every morning, training in different environments throughout the day and did not go to sleep until about 10:00 p.m. I enjoyed this time with my trainer Rick as he is Vietnam veteran. During our training we spent many hours trading stories about our combat experiences. Upon completion I returned home to St. Pete with Kera. It was nice to finally be home for more than just a short period of time. My friends would come over to hang out and it was great to spend time with them.

The following month I participated in Soldier Ride, a charity event to raise funds for the Wounded Warrior Project. Soldier Ride is an event where wounded veterans ride bicycles across the country and also do many smaller rides in different locations. The one I went on started in South Beach in Miami and was approximately 10 miles. This was followed by a ride through Islamorada to raise awareness and funds; during this time I had the opportunity to meet the football coach, Jimmy Johnson. Crossing the Seven-Mile Bridge, south of Marathon, really jacked me up! On the ride from Boca Chica Naval Air Station to Mallory Square in Key West, my stepdad Bob piloted the tandem bicycle given to me by the Wounded Warrior Project. After many months of physical inactivity, I was in great pain by the end of this ride; the whole trip felt like sitting on a coke bottle sideways!

It was during March that I started my speaking engagements; going to West Palm Beach to speak at my sister’s elementary school; she was teaching third grade that year. It was about this time that I realized that Kera would not work out for me as I tend to drift to the left while walking because of the injury to my left knee. I needed a dog that would be able to keep me on a straight line and things were not working out, so unfortunately she had to be returned to the school. She has since been given to another blind person and is doing really well.

In May, my friend Todd from the Naval Hospital in Bethesda took two weeks leave and came to visit me in St. Pete. He had never been to Florida before and he got to experience it from a local’s point of view. I may be blind but I know St. Pete like the back of my hand and was able to direct Todd driving so that he could enjoy all that Tampa Bay has to offer. After Todd left, I went Madison, Ind., to visit my uncle John and his family and speak at my cousin’s school. Wherever I go, the kids always ask if I can remove my eye and are amazed when I pop it out. While there I dislocated my shoulder while sleeping and had to make a trip to the local emergency room. Because of my prior experience with pharmaceuticals I turned down the pain meds they offered while I was waiting for the doctor to see me and put my shoulder back into place.

When I returned home at the end of the month I was alone in my house and felt that I needed company so I went to the Friends of Strays and adopted a kitten named Alexcia. This seemed like such a long name for a tiny kitten so I shortened it to Lexie. She was the first kitten my mom placed in my arms and I could not turn her away. Afraid I would step on her, I put a bell around her neck. She is no longer the gray ghost; I always know where she is in my house.

In July, I was invited to the National Theater Workshop for the Handicapped (NTWH) for the Writers’ Program for Wounded Warriors in Belfast, Maine. This is a program that NTWH started to give us wounded veterans a positive outlet to vent our frustrations. I approached this program as a form of therapy and used it to further my rehabilitation. It was also the start of my writing that eventually led me to write this series for The New York Times. The monologue that I completed during this program was later featured in a play performed in Westhampton Beach on Long Island.

In August I went a Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young concertat the Nissan Pavilion in the DC area expecting a really good rock n’ roll show. But I was disappointed as it turned out to be the closest thing to an anti-war protest that I will ever attend. The backdrop behind the band featured steel coffins of dead service members rolling out of the back of airplanes. Neil Young got on stage and sang three songs protesting war. He was then accompanied by the rest of the band and sang “Rockin’ in the Free World.” Sometimes I wonder if Todd and I were the only ones to notice the irony of protesting the wars that gave us this free world.

In the fall my shoulder continued to bother me and I went to the V.A. for surgery to fix problem. I was surprised to learn that my orthopedic surgeon was from Iraq. Because my experience in Iraq, I had been very hesitant around Arabs, but was surprisingly impressed by this man’s personality and skill. I think that this one man single-handedly changed my opinion about America’s entire Arab population. I understand not all Arabs in the world are bad, just that small fraction who want to wage war against us.

In October, Todd and I took a trip to Ireland for a five-day pub crawl. The beauty of this trip was that it fell on my 28th birthday. We had a very exciting time traveling the countryside. While staying at the Cabra Castle in Cavan, I saw my first Irish Wolfhound; his name was Oscar and he was enormous. We visited the westernmost city in Ireland, Galway, known as the City of Tribes. Before we returned home we ended our trip with two days in Killarney, where I had so much fun that one morning I woke up with my eye in my pocket! This was one of the most exciting birthdays I have ever had.

Upon returning home from Ireland I went to New York City to film a veteran’s documentary for HBO; stay tuned, it will air the week of Sept. 9… While there, my mom and I had the opportunity to see two shows on Broadway, “Rent” and “Les Miserables.” Les Mis rocks!

After Thanksgiving I again got to attend the Army-Navy game with the same group as in 2005. This was my second train ride, and like before, I got to ride in style! Hey, Army, I’m starting to see a pattern! GO NAVY, BEAT ARMY! OO-RAH!

At the beginning of 2007 I made one of the biggest moves of my life. While keeping my house in St. Pete, I moved to Alexandria, Va., to start the search for a college to attend. If you are the president of Georgetown University, please let me in! I took an apartment on Duke Street in the same building that my mom lived in 32 years ago when she met my dad. Moving to a new area on my own put forth its own set of obstacles. I was soon taken under the wing of a former marine blinded in Vietnam who has introduced me to the movers and shakers in Washington, getting me off my butt and helping to point me in a positive direction. My move to the D.C. area has gotten me to the halls of Congress twice and to the National Press Club a few times. I’ve even gained entrance into the largest office building in the United States, commonly referred to as the Pentagon.

During this time I met a young woman who has become very important in my life. Leslie has an 11-year-old son, Caleb who plays little league and I enjoy going to his games. We are moving ahead slowly, getting to know each other and enjoying the time we spend together.

As you may have realized by now, I love to travel and becoming blind has not slowed me down. My trip to England in March with my dad brought the number of countries I’ve visited to 13. While there I was able to visit the county where the Jernigan’s originated.

Upon my return from England I went back to Palmetto to receive a guide dog to replace Kera. The director of training for Southeastern Guide Dogs, Rick Holden, had spent the past year searching for a dog that would compensate for my multiple disabilities. On March 27 I received Brittani, another Goldador. She is currently working out marvelously and I cannot imagine how I survived without her. Since Leslie lives in another city, Brittani and I have had a lot of opportunities to use the trains in Virginia. And she and Lexie have become the best of friends, playing, sleeping and eating together.

This summer is turning out to be a very busy time with a family cruise and many other trips that I will be taking. Ironically the next phase of my life, attending school, starts on the third anniversary of my injury. If you are interested in following the rest of my story, give me a week or so and log onto my Web site at www.michaelleejernigan.com.

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Home Fires: Five Iraq War Vets On Their Return To American Life

June 17, 2007, 9:24 pm
By Michael Jernigan

The All-Day Night Patrol

While I was home convalescing in St. Pete, with my new dome, I did not do much of anything. I was still having serious problems with my sleeping and was going out to the local bars drinking excessively. My family would invite me and my wife out for family time and were told that I was not interested. My wife never even asked me if I wanted to go to any of these family functions. She seems to have been trying to separate me from my family.

After these few weeks, I was off to the V.A. Hospital in Augusta, Ga., for their blind rehabilitation program. I was very apprehensive, nervous and scared because it is an inpatient program. I was separated from my wife and family for 16 weeks while I learned how to be blind.

The program consisted of four different classes: orientation and mobility, living skills, manual skills and computer instruction. The first two — O & M and living skills — were the most important in helping me to gain my independence.

Living skills, with my instructor Janet, taught me exactly what it says. It gave me the skills to live alone. In the beginning I was being issued adaptive equipment for the visually impaired and being instructed on its uses. Some of these gadgets include talking watches and alarm clocks, scales, bar code readers (for labeling clothing and other items), script talk (for reading my prescription bottles) and even a talking blood pressure cuff for my hypertension. It is very interesting to be in a house that talks to you!

This is also the class that I started to learn Braille, adapt household appliances and put my already superior cooking skills back to work. The appliances I learned to adapt were the stove, washer, dryer, microwave and dishwasher with tactile “bumps.” I also learned how to arrange my clothing and gain a general knowledge of how to make tactile adaptations of other household items — remote controls, thermostats, etc. I even learned a safe way to keep ironing my own clothes. It felt good to get back into a kitchen because I have always enjoyed cooking. There are different techniques for someone without sight to safely navigate a kitchen. I did so well that Janet would copy my recipes to cook for her boyfriend.

John Hoffmeister is one of the best and most patient orientation and mobility instructors on the face of the globe. We started out by learning how to safely navigate the hospital and its grounds, progressing to the city of Augusta. He taught me how to cross intersections by sound and safely walk down the street on a city sidewalk and in neighborhoods that do not have sidewalks. Ten weeks into the program he built my confidence up so high that I was walking two blocks from the hospital to the convenience store, alone. By the end of the program he had even taught me how to ice skate, which is quite a feat for a Florida boy as we have no naturally forming ice in our state. With his tutelage I gained the confidence to venture outdoors on my own.

My most enjoyable class was manual skills with my instructor Herman. Manual skills is a class that teaches a visually impaired person how to use his hands without sight. We started with small arts and crafts projects like making leather belts and wallets. By the time we were done I had constructed a bird feeder out of raw lumber. We also learned basic maintenance around the house. Herman was in the Army and later a high school shop teacher. I enjoyed working with him so much because I had more in common with him than I did with the other instructors. We would be in the shop together working and also trading stories about our lives.

During these 16 weeks I continued my counseling with a psychiatrist at the V.A. This was an important time because it was when my marriage really started to fall apart. For eight weeks, my wife was at her father’s home only four hours away and only visited me once; it was after that that she took a job assignment in Oakland, Calif., three time zones away. The wizard (Marine jargon for psychiatrist) and his voodoo-mind-magic helped me deal with this stress by giving me positive ways to vent my frustrations. These 16 weeks gave me my life back. Without this rehabilitation program, I might still be holed up in my own little world. I would like to thank these people for helping me get back into the world through their patient teaching and support. For the short time that I was home from blind rehab and before going back to the Naval Hospital in Bethesda, I was able to put into action all of my new skills. Mike Jernigan is back, the new and improved version, living the all-day night patrol.

On my way back to Bethesda I traveled in my chucks (a Marine uniform consisting of a tan, short sleeve shirt and green trousers) and while going through the metal detector at the airport I made it beep like crazy. I was pulled aside by a T.S.A. agent and told to lift my trouser legs and remove my blouse (shirt). I smiled at the agent, pointing to the ribbons on my chest, saying, “I am not a terrorist, these are for killing terrorists.” He asked again for me to remove by blouse. I lost my smile and replied, “If you can get it off me, I’ll give you 20 bucks.” At this time another T.S.A. agent showed up, who was a retired Marine, calmed me down and escorted me through security himself. Ironically, he came to my rescue again on my next trip through airport security some months later.

My dad took a month off and spent it with me in Bethesda for my last eye surgery and the start of my retirement processing. I enjoyed this time with him because for the past few years we had not had much opportunity to be together. My final surgery was a failure and unfortunately the doctor was not able to remove enough scar tissue for my left eye socket to hold a prosthetic eye. Petty Officer Gwen Guilford made me different eyes for the right side. I now rock with baby blue, emerald green and aquamarine normal prosthetic eyes. I also have five custom eyes — a hazel eye with a cat’s eye pupil, a white eye with a three leaf clover, a black eye with a silver skull and crossbones, a red eye with a Marine Corps emblem (especially for the Marine Corps Ball) and last but not least a cobalt blue eye that contains nine diamonds, totalling one carat, taken from my wedding band … this was the eye that I wore to divorce court.

I had a great time living in the barracks during the retirement process. My former hospital roommate, Todd Herman, was here during this time. We were injured at approximately the same time and shared a room for many weeks at the beginning. Todd and I spent a lot of time together and is still one of my best friends. Around the hospital it became known as the “Todd and Mike show” as we were always getting into something. During this time I swelled to 220 pounds because we were continually eating chicken wings and drinking beer. This is the heaviest I have ever been and every morning Todd would poke my belly like I was the Pillsbury Dough Boy and make some snide comment about me getting larger. Only great friends will shoot that straight.

I ended my service with the Marine Corps by attending the 2005 Army-Navy game in Philadelphia. Navy won giving me a great way to go out. GO NAVY, BEAT ARMY!! This was a great trip; a group of civilian train enthusiasts got together and took a bunch of us injured veterans to Philly on their private rail cars. This was my first trip on a train and I got to ride in style! We had great seats and tickets to the V.I.P. warming level. I had the opportunity to meet a lot of high ranking civilian and military officials and through one of these individuals I was able to score season tickets for my home town team, the Tampa Bay Devil Rays for the 2006 season.

On December 29, 2005, I was medically retired from the Marine Corps. I thank the lord for every day that he gave me in the Corps. After all our mantra is GOD, COUNTRY, CORPS. It was my first responsible adult job and the most fun a man could have.

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HOME FIRES: Five Iraq War Veterans on Their Return to American Life

By Michael Jernigan
June 11, 2007, 12:23 am

Will I Ever Be O.K. Again?

Like I said before, I was at the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda. Md., when I first returned. This was an interesting time; I was on enough pain medicine to tranquilize a small militia. I had some very creative hallucinations. When I was still in bad shape my nurse left on Univision while I was sleeping. The next morning I woke up speaking Spanish. One night the N.B.A. draft was left on T.V. for the evening. When I awoke the next morning, I hired my brother J.P. as my agent. When you are drafted in the second round by the Dallas Mavericks you need an agent. My first instructions to him were to get me a Rolex. I had to fire him, as it has been almost three years and he has not gotten me signed and I have still do not have my Rolex.

There was a trip I took to the Senate dining hall with some of the other wounded marines to have lunch as a guest of Sen. Ted Stevens from the great state of Alaska. On the van ride there I was convinced that to our left there was a river and traveling down that river was an aircraft carrier following us launching jets as air security. I remember thinking to myself that that was awfully nice of the Secretary of the Navy to take my safety so seriously. While I was at lunch I kept seeing large beautiful staircases that were crowded with antique brass candlesticks.

Within a few days of this trip I asked the anesthesiologist to take me off all that stuff because I could no longer handle the cloudy head. As my head got clearer, I was able to start concentrating on my rehabilitation. Just as a piece of advice, if you are ever hallucinating on pain medication, do not talk to Ted Kennedy — the man can be a buzz kill.

After recovering at the National Naval Medical Center I was transferred to the V.A. hospital in Tampa, Fla. There I was evaluated and treated for my traumatic brain injury. I was only there for a few weeks and then I was released. I was able to go on convalescent leave in St. Petersburg, which is my hometown. During this time I was doing occupational therapy for my injured hand at the V.A. in Tampa. This is when I noticed that things were not as good as I thought they were.

I was having trouble sleeping; I would sleep until late afternoon but would stay awake all night. I did not realize it but this is when I started to drop into a severe depression. It did not help that I had started drinking while taking all of my medication. I was having a very hard time trying to figure out what would happen to me now. Just a few months earlier I was a United States Marine serving in a war. I was a very physically fit and independent person but now I was dependent on my wife and family for everything that I needed to do. This was one of the hardest things that I had to deal with.

I went back to the naval hospital for more surgeries on two separate occasions. The second trip is when I had my acrylic plate put in my forehead. It is always a good feeling when you can get your dome back. Before this surgery I walked around with an enormous dent in my skull. It made sneezing a very traumatic event. During this trip I had an opportunity to meet the president of the United States. Unfortunately I was still suffering from depression and would not get out of bed to walk across the street to meet my Commander in Chief. Contributing to my depression was the fact that as I was going under anesthetic, my wife left to fly to Florida for a job interview. She was not there when I woke up and did not return until the next day. The life threatening seriousness of this surgery had brought my mom, stepdad, and dad, as well as good friends from Oklahoma, to be at my side for support.

The good news is it was also during this trip that I had decided to get counseling for all the problems I had. This was a large step in my life because before this time I felt there was nothing wrong. It takes a strong man to realize when there is something wrong with him; it takes an even stronger man to do something about the problems he has. Seeking out counseling and accepting the fact that I would never see again were two of the best things to happen to me at that time in my life.

After recovering from this surgery, I returned home to St. Pete to convalesce for a few weeks prior to going to the Blind Rehabilitation Program at the V.A. Hospital in Augusta, Ga. I’ll talk some more about what followed in my next post.

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HOME FIRES: five Iraq War veterans on their return to American life

By Michael Jernigan

June 4, 2007, 9:30 pm

What a Way to Come Home

My name is Mike Jernigan. I am a United States Marine Corps corporal who was medically retired in December of 2005. I served in Iraq for six months out of a seven month deployment. I was blinded by a roadside bomb on August 22, 2004 during a patrol near the town of Mahmudiya. Coming home was wild ride. I was medevac’d to the 31st Combat Support Hospital in Baghdad.

A few hours after I was airlifted my godfather, an Army colonel who was in Iraq, came to my bedside to sit with me for as long as he could. Upon hearing the news of my injury, my mother had immediately called his home in the states. She reached his wife and was told he was out of the country. But he quickly got the message over in Iraq and a few hours later drove over to the hospital. From there he became my mother’s eyes and ears. He held his satellite phone up to my ear while I was lying in a medically induced coma so that my mother could talk to me. I learned later that during these times my blood pressure would rise. The doctor had said that was a good sign; it meant I still had some brain activity.

I was later transferred to Landstuhl, Germany where I was met by my father. At the time he was working in Stuttgart, just a few hours away. I was there for two days receiving more surgeries to stabilize me. It was a very touch-and-go situation. I was told I flatlined a few times on the operating table, which was a very stressful time for my father. He had served in Vietnam but was not prepared to see his son come home like this. The Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps at the time, Sgt. Maj. John Estrada, came up to my father and gave him a big hug and told him that his son was going to be O.K.

I was soon airlifted to the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, Md. I was lucky in the fact that my father and stepmother were able to ride on the medevac plane with me. It was very reassuring to know that you get to go to the same hospital as the president of the United States. Here I was taken to the intensive care unit. The rest of my family — my mother, stepfather, brother, wife, and even my mother-in-law were awaiting my arrival. I am a unique case in the fact that I was surrounded by family every step of the way.

I was not only blinded but had also suffered a traumatic brain injury. My entire forehead was crushed and removed. My right hand was completely reconstructed. I am still missing my second metacarpal phalangeal joint and half of my fifth metacarpal phalangeal joint. To this day I still have limited movement in my right hand. I have come to affectionately refer to it as my “Bob Dole” hand. I also received severe trauma and had major surgery on my left knee. I now rock some wicked cool scars that include a 14 inch-long one that runs from temple to temple across the top of my head. I still wear a regulation high and tight haircut and all my friends tell me I should grow my hair out. My chest puffs out and I tell them you don’t need medals when you have scars like mine.

The crazy part is that this was the easiest part for me. Not long after I came home to St. Petersburg, Fla., it became apparent to me that my wife had lost interest. Two years and two months after my injury we were divorced. When we split I found out that she had spent all of the money I had earned plus all of the money given to us in private donations. I was then trying to make it on my own with little financial means, but the strong support of my entire family.

I completed a 16-week blind rehabilitation program at the Veterans Administration Hospital in Augusta, Ga. This was the most instrumental step on my path back to independence. There I learned how to clean a house, do my laundry, iron my own clothes, and even cook my own meals, which is a great thing because I am a very talented cook. I learned how to do basic maintenance around the house to include rewiring a lamp and fixing the plumbing underneath the sink. As part of my manual skills instruction I completed a couple of woodworking projects. I made a gorgeous two-story birdhouse from a kit and also built a bird feeder shaped like an old style covered bridge from bare lumber. This program has taught me that even without sight I can lead a very productive life.

Although suffering from my injuries might seem like an unfortunate incident, it has provided me with many great opportunities to better myself. I have taken advantage of the ones that interest me the most and look forward to any more that may cross my path. In the next few weeks I will be able to share more about life after Iraq with you.

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