Iraq effects at home

My mother, Ryan's 82 year-old grandmother, is in the Veteran's Administration hospital in Minneapolis. She is recovering from a collapsed lung. She hates the war, I think she hates Bush more. So this memory is maddening to her as well as haunting.

Each morning she rides the elevator down to x-ray to get another picture of her lungs for her dedicated physicians. Yesterday, she and her volunteer chauffeur headed downstairs in an elevator along with a young man in a wheelchair. As the doors shut, the man suddenly blocks his face with his arms and exclaims, "I have to get out of here, there are too many Iraqis on this elevator!" There was just him, my 88-pound mama and her good Samaritan. She couldn't stop telling me the story all day.

It makes me want to volunteer to sooth these young vets from their terrible post traumatic shock. But how can that be done? Reminding him what day it is and where he is and that he is safe now. Am I naive? I'm volunteering to help a vet, now, I suppose, in being with my mother each day in the hospital. There are wonderful, caring medical staff and dozens of volunteers at our local VA. Each one feels the way my mother does, seeing the hurt of this young, young man. Not only because of the lack of his legs, but his lack of ever feeling safe again.

I think we have a right to protect America, but are we doing everything to protect Americans??