How the Iraq War Changed My Life Forever
Love, resilience, and my husband’s war wounds
Published in
19 min readJan 20, 2019
The first time I saw an amputee was in April 2006 at Bethesda Naval Hospital. I was 20 years old. The man was attractive, in his late teens to early twenties, with overgrown brown hair, the beginnings of a beard, and both legs missing just above the knees. A woman with a platinum blond bob struggled to push his…
