Big Sister Is Combat Wounded

All participants are above the age of 18. This is a fictional account and uses non-existent individuals.

My sister is blind. She wasn't born that way but an IED ended her sight. My sister is two years older than my 22. Right after high school she joined the army and after basic training she became a medic. She was an excellent medic and because she was 6'1 she could carry her weight in the field. She was always into sports and spent a lot of time in the weight room. So, she was strong and fit. In her ACUs you couldn't tell if she had much of a figure, only that she had relatively small breasts and an erect posture. She had dark brown, almost black, hair and bright blue eyes. Her nose was a bit longer and her face a bit wider than you would pick for a classical beauty but she still good looking. Her height made her stand out when she walked into a room, and her posture was just as commanding.

She reached her full 6'2" in the 8

th

grade. Initially, kind of gawky but she quickly filled out. She was a sports addict, so developed an impressive body. Given that she was taller and stronger than most of the boys in junior and senior high school meant a lot to me. I was pretty short until a late burst in my senior year, so she saved me from being bullied because most of the boys were scared of her. Since she figured that I needed some help she got me into martial arts when I was 12.

On the downside, she was simply so tall most guys felt intimidated with trying to date her. She had a couple of boyfriends that she was semi-serious about but few. Some of the intimidated ones tried to make her out to be a lesbian; however, she showed not the slightest interest in other women.

From early on, we got along well. We were friends as well as siblings. Not that we didn't get into arguments and fights but we never held a grudge the next day. Of course, I rather enjoyed wrestling with her even if she kicked my ass. Beneath a rough exterior she was all woman. Soft skin and firm muscles and a quick smile.

I had a crush on her, starting as far back as high school. I never told her but I'm pretty sure she was somewhat aware of it. Not really a crush, though. I was head over heels in love with her. Certainly, in high school she had teased me about my lack of dating. A combination of being short and being in love with her. When she joined the army, we kept in constant communication. Unlike from our dad's time in Vietnam, email and cell phones made that easy. Dad married late, so our parents retired to south Florida shortly after we graduated from high school. I was the conduit to and from them to her. She listed me as the emergency contact, as dad had a heart problem that we didn't want to exacerbate into a crisis.

I had graduated from college with a degree in mechanical engineering and was working for a multinational firm in Seattle. As I said, I've always looked up to Joan. (I call her Jo, sort of teasing as in GI Joe.) Not the least because I was only 5'9" and slender (well skinny, actually). I was a swimmer, so had reasonable upper body strength. Plus 10 years in the martial arts and part-time runner helped burn off those calories.

After a long day in front of a CAD machine, I was just taking my tie off and checking the mail at my small two bedroom apartment when the doorbell rang. Wasn't expecting anyone, so looked through the peephole to see an army uniform. When I opened the door an Army captain stood there. He asked if I was Christopher Born. "Yes. What can I do for you?"

"I'm sorry to inform you that your sister was seriously wounded in an IED explosion. She has been evacuated and is in a hospital in Germany. She is currently undergoing surgery but she isn't in critical condition."

It took a few tries before I could respond "Can I go there and see her? When will she be coming home? What are her injuries? Or will she be going back to duty?"

"Unfortunately, I don't have any details of her injury. She will be in Germany for about a week to stabilize her before she's sent to Walter Reed, outside DC. You can go to Germany but I strongly suggest you wait till she's back in the states. She will likely be undergoing treatment and will be sedated, so she probably wouldn't know you were there.

Here's the number for the DoD casualty hotline where you'll be able to find out her schedule and some indication of her injuries. Please accept my appreciation for her service and my sympathy for her injuries."

I sat stunned on the sofa for a few minutes. In one sense, I was happy she wasn't in danger of death but I felt a heavy sense of dread. He said "serious" but what exactly did that mean? A thousand possibilities went thru my thoughts. Had to call the parents before it got too late. I told them everything I knew and promised to keep them updated. Dad had only a little more insight into what serious meant, as he was seriously wounded in Vietnam. "Could be so many things that guessing isn't of any use. We just have to wait."

The next few days were spent in trying to get information from the army. Phone tag and dead ends. Finally got somebody at Walter Reed who said she was due in on Saturday.

I took a leave of absence on Thursday and flew out on Friday. Found the best people in the world at the Fisher House, who gave me a place to stay. Pretty sure I didn't sleep a second that Friday night. I camped out in the lobby, kept making a nuisance of myself asking if she had arrived yet. Finally, at about 7PM they told me she had arrived and was in the ward. I was made to wait at the nurse's station till they got her rigged up. Had to gown and mask up to minimize the chance of infection. They told me she was drugged up and sleeping but I could see her.

It was a shock! Her entire head was wrapped in bandages. Her lower left arm in a splint and there were bandages on her chest, arms and shoulders. If they hadn't told me it was her, I wouldn't have recognized her. Basically, all I could see of her face was her mouth with a tube coming out of it. I'm afraid I wet her sleeve with my tears. They made me go home about midnight and told me not to come back before 10 in the morning. She would be waking up about then, coherent but might be groggy from the pain meds. The doctor would be there then to give me a briefing on her condition.

Guess I was so exhausted that I slept till 8. When I got there, the doctor was just coming from her room. He pulled me into a consult room to give me the information on her condition.

"Since you sister is an NCO, a SSG E-6, her normal duty station is at an evac hospital; however, one of the line units lost its medic to a sniper and your sister volunteered to take his place till a replacement could be flown in. She was wounded when an IED detonated as she was working on a wounded soldier. She was shielding him with her body. I'm told that she was fortunate that the device wasn't placed properly. It was in a depression and the small berm reduced the fragment velocity, otherwise she'd would be dead. Shrapnel and sand hit her in the face, broke her arm and inflicted numerous wounds on her arms and the parts of her upper body that was facing the device. Fortunately, none of her vital organs were hit so there's nothing life threatening.

Unfortunately, her face took the most damaged. She has lots of cuts that will require plastic surgery at some time in the future and her nose will need rebuilding. She took a long chunk of metal across the bridge of her nose.

There's also no way to soften this: her eyes were severely damaged and the tear ducts destroyed. Worst of all, we had to completely remove the eye globes. She's permanently blind. I'm very, very sorry."

"God, oh God!!! Can I donate one of my eyes for a transplant?"

"Unfortunately, that's beyond current medical science. Sorry."

"Does she know?"

"No, not yet. I will do that now, as she's awake and aware of her surroundings and you're here for support."

"SSG Born, there's somebody here to see you. It's your brother Christopher."

"Chris! I'm sorry you have to see me this way - all dressed in rags. The doctor told me I'm all cut up. Said I'll need surgery on my face soon."

"Jo, as if I care. You're alive. That's all that matters. I'm always here for you."

The doctor said "SSG Born, I have some very bad news... The explosion destroyed the bridge of your nose and your tear ducts, and critically, your eyes. There's no chance you will ever recover your sight... I'm very sorry."

At first, she said nothing. Then she said "I can't even fucking cry."

I grabbed a part of her arm that wasn't bandaged and said "I'll cry enough for both of us."

The doctor left us in silence. I didn't know what to say and could only hold her hand. She stroked my fingers with her calloused ones. "Chris, I'm not dead and the damage to my face won't make me any uglier than I already am."

"Jo, how can you every think you're ugly? You're beautiful and nothing will ever change that."

"Enough of the bullshit. I look, or did look, into a mirror every day, so I know what I look like. But thanks for the compliment. Know it came from your heart."

"Have you talked to the folks yet?" She asked.

"They know you were wounded. Dad's heart isn't in very good shape, so they're waiting for me to update them before coming up here."

"Chris, I don't know if I'm ready for that yet. Just let them know I'm still undergoing surgery and will let them know when to come up."

I could see she was getting tired and woozy from the pain meds, so suggested she go back to sleep. I'd be here when she woke up. She barely acknowledged me as she dozed off.

I knew she would be here for some time and I had to figure out how I was going to stay. Fisher House could be my home for some time, but I needed to support myself. Fortunately, my company had offices around the country and one of them was in Bethesda, MD - right close by. I talked to my supervisor back in Seattle and he arranged for me to temporarily work here. After talking with my new temporary supervisor here and explaining what was going on, she allowed me to take flexible hours and to do a lot of work remotely using my laptop. I couldn't say enough about the company. I gave an enormous sigh of relief.

Over the next month, Jo had surgery on her nose and face. They removed the cast from her arm. Since she was mostly mobile, they started teaching her how to use a cane. And teaching me what she would need. I was also able to take her in a wheelchair, and later by holding her, for walks. She was surprising cheerful but, of course, I could still detect her underlying issues. I know for a fact that she has nightmares and wakes up screaming. Can't say that I blame her - I have nightmares about her. The one thing I know for sure is that I love her more every day. I'm very sure it isn't pity, just that fact that I'm in her company much more than ever. When she is asleep, I just sit beside her and hold her hand or arm. Rather not be in a hospital but otherwise I'm happy to be with her and touch her.

After a month, the folks flew up. I had told them about her injuries but it was still a shock when they saw her. I was afraid that dad would end up in a bed next to her. They were awash in tears. Neither Jo nor I could take much of that, so we weren't too upset when they left after a few days. Not that we didn't love them or they us but it was too emotional and we needed to reset.

Finally, after another month, she was released to continue outpatient treatment at the Seattle VA. I had a two-bedroom apartment, so she had a place to live. Now, at 24 she had a Purple Heart, Bronze Star, a medical discharge and a 100% VA disability rating. That should be enough for her to live on since I already had an apartment. Now, she could concentrate on recovery and learning such things as brail and how to get around.

We had to start on finding a way to live together. I was on cloud nine that she was living with me but even though I was so in love with her, we had to learn how to cohabit. I removed as many things as possible so she wouldn't have trouble moving around the apartment. She quickly learned how to navigate around. I learned along with her by walking around the apartment blindfolded. After banging into things, I learned how to make the place friendlier to her. I also learned to always put things in the same place every day. For example, she was quite capable of making coffee every morning but didn't have an easy way to know when she needed to put more water in the maker. She would know that every four days it needed refilling. If, however, I made an extra cup I had to replace the water, refill completely and/or let her know. She would get royally pissed if there wasn't enough water and when she went off to take a shower, returned to find the cup empty. So, yes, I had to be trained as well.

She picked up brail very quickly. I made the apartment management put brail in the elevators, hallways, mail boxes, call buttons and room numbers. The VA was very helpful in providing her voice-enabled computers, communications and a cell phone. They offered her a service dog but she declined. Maybe later was her reply. The VA supplied her with artificial eye globes. Since she got to pick the color, she chose green. "Always wanted green eyes." She had glasses with distorting lenses and, of course, dark glasses. She very seldom wore either and at home neither glasses nor globes. I got used to it and often had to ask her if she wanted anything when we went out.

She had always liked to read and audio books were very much in demand. As she got better with brail, she could enjoy more. Of course, she preferred that I read books to her and to describe what was on TV as we sat together on the sofa. I was more than happy to do so. It was my nightly reward to snuggle up with her on the sofa. She also rapidly learned the neighborhood and took long walks to the stores and parks. I, of course, was worried about her but she nailed me for trying to baby her. After some thought, I concluded that she could take care of herself. She was, after all, big, quick and could swing her cane like a bat.

All that was the easy stuff. I had to take her clothes-shopping. Took a while to figure out what she wanted and how to mark it so she could choose what to wear. I'd have preferred she wear nothing but that wasn't listed as an option. Much more difficult was learning how to deal with her on an everyday basis. I couldn't treat her as an invalid or she would bite my head off. I had to be aware of her blindness and make accommodation for it but try to be a subtle as possible. Of considerably more difficulty for me was not blurting out how much I loved her. I had to exercise considerable restraint, especially when she had clothing "malfunctions". Seeing her in bra and panties, and sometimes less, put a considerable strain in my pants front. I know she's aware of some of my feelings as she has bumped into my erection on more than one occasion. She was aware of my crush on her back in the high school days but I didn't know what she thought now. I longed to hug her, kiss her and tell her how I felt. But what if she didn't want that? Could we still live together with that rift between us? It would kill me to have her move out. Rock - hard place.

She still had nightmares. I learned that if I hugged her when she had one, that she would quickly settle down and go back to sleep. I lost a lot of sleep but never complained. She still had some issues that I blamed on PTSD that she was trying to work out. Some obvious, like she didn't like crowds or loud noises. Others not so clear. She still had a shell around her and between us. It was small but very much there. I couldn't crack it and didn't understand what I could do to help.

Finally, one Saturday afternoon many months later, listening to the rain beat on the window, she groped for my hand. She said "If I could cry, tears would be running down my face."

"Jo, what? There may be many reasons to cry but I hope I can help. Even if you can't cry, it tears me up. What can I do to help? Please?"

"Chris, I'm a big burden on you. You don't have a life outside of being with me. I'm so sorry. Maybe I need to leave so you can get on with your life."

"NO. Not just no, but hell no! That's the worst thing that could happen... I love you being here and wouldn't trade it for the world. I would trade you my eyes if it were possible... I can't but whatever I can do, I will. I only want the best for you."

She touched my face and it wasn't difficult to imagine her bright blue eyes on me. She said "Maybe I don't deserve you."

I took a great chance but saw no other path. "Jo, I love you with all my heart and I have for a very long time. Much more than as a brother loves his sister. You mean everything to me... I want only your happiness... But I can live just as your caring brother, if that's what you want. I surely don't want you moving out."

She sat unmoving, facing me, for so long that the silence weighted on me like a blanket. "Chris" she began "I'm not sure what to say. I've known for a long time that you had un-brotherly feelings for me. They made me feel good as at least somebody felt something for me. That gave me... Had the army and time to explore... Wasn't sure if it was just a fleeting crush or more... Now I know but I'm confused.

Is it just because I'm blind that you can tell me? Or that now you think you need to love me because of what's happened? I'm trying to adjust to my new life and... Chris, what do I do?"

Never had she shown uncertainty. She always had a goal and ran at it like a charging bull. I have never seen her this way. Now what do I do? "Jo, how can I tell you what to do? I'm surely not objective. I would only tell you what I want, not necessarily what you should want... Sorry, guess I should have just kept my mouth closed. But with 1000% certainty my feelings towards you have nothing to do with your blindness."

"Chris, we've always tried to be honest with each other, so even though everything is swirling around, I'm glad you told me. It's just that I don't know what

my

feelings are... I need time to figure them out."

"Jo, nothing has changed. I'm still here with you and for you. You can ignore it or just consider it as something in the background. As long as you don't hate me or feel too uncomfortable to be here, I won't change how we live together. Won't push you, either... If worst comes to worst and you feel you need to move out, I won't try to talk you out of it."

I meant every word, although the thought of her leaving filled me with such dread that I'm glad she couldn't see my tears. Unfortunately, she touched my face and found out anyway.

"I could never hate you, Chris, never... Just need to think."

"Do you want me to move out for a while so you can have some space?"

"No! I don't want you to leave me, even for a little while. I still want you near me. I do love you but not sure... If I never love you in some way different than as a brother... I do love you so much, I'm..."

Even though her tear ducts were destroyed and she couldn't cry, I could hear it in her voice and see it in her face. I couldn't stop myself from hugging her. She returned the hug so tight that I could barely breathe. Not that I minded. "Just hold me, Chris."

"Forever. If all we ever do is hug, I will happy."

We just sat there, listening to the rain.

The next couple of weeks were a little strained but not enough to be really uncomfortable. I knew she was holding back and not completely at ease as she had been but had to let it sort itself out. I could feel her eyes on me, if only in my imagination.

At dinner, on another rainy Seattle day, she said she had been feeling worthless so she got a job as an advisor at a career center down the street. Took me back a bit but that actually sounded like a good thing. She now had something to do and to be able to meet people. "That's great!"