I watched a TV show the other night.It was the story of a man with PTSD after having been shot during a political rally. For the sake of privacy I will defer from giving identifying details, but the story very much touched my heart so I want to share it. I will call our friend, Albert. Albert works at an office that gathers information about victims of accidents.
Albert had been critically shot in the stomach. He remained at the local hospital for several days. After convalescing, he returned to work at the office. After a few days, Albert’s co-workers noticed a change in him. This usually cordial, jovial and easy-to- work-with executive started displaying unusual anger and displeasure when exposed to certain situations, situations which he would have normally not negatively been affected by. He also was obsessed about the reports concerning a man who committed suicide in a car, drawing similarities from that man to himself. The problem culminated when, during a meeting, Albert became very pushy, demanding, and angry when proposing his opinion to the C.E.O. Feeling that he had crossed the line, Albert thought to return to the meeting but his friend and boss Frank told him no. Albert went to a concert with a friend that night and there he had some sort of episode. He then went home where he hurt his hand by angrily breaking hitting and breaking the window of his apartment. Frank especially had noticed his friend’s attitude. His close co-workers had also noticed. Together they decided that Albert needed to see a traumatologist, something Albert absolutely didn’t want to do and was convinced he didn’t need. At first Albert lied to the traumatologist. He said he hurt his hand with a knife while preparing some food. After much prodding, prying, and trying to discover all that Albert was trying to hide, the traumatologist succeeded in having him reminisce with him the events of the past three weeks. It is then that Albert saw a pattern. The situations that caused him to lose ‘it’ all involved music. Music in someone’s office space; music by beggars in the subway; music at the concert, which is the place where he almost lost complete control. Finally Albert was confident enough to see the truth. He admitted that he had cut his hand trying to break his apartment window. Was he attempting to jump? Albert then realised that the trauma he had experienced caused him to be in denial even of reality. It took his friend, Frank to notice. The traumatologist who had previously diagnosed Albert with PTSD. was now satisfied that Albert could remember the moment of his shooting without reliving it at the drop of a hat, or at the note of an instrument, as at this time, certain types of music reminded him of the numerous sirens of that fateful night. Albert asked his friend, “How did you know?” Frank then said, “Someone falls in a deep ditch and cannot come out. A doctor passes by. “Please sir help me...” the poor fellows begs. The doctor writes a prescription, throws it to the man in the ditch saying, “Here; take that and you'll be fine!” A priest passes by, “Please sir, help me!” The poor fellow continues begging. The priest writes a prayer, throws it to the man in the ditch and says, “Here, pray ?hat and you will be fine!” A friend then passes by, “Help me please; won’t you help me!” The friend then jumps in the ditch with the desperate man who says, “Great, now we are both in the ditch; how does that help?!” To which the friend says, “Yes but I was there before and I know the way out.” Frank, who works with Albert, had faced similar issues in the past, and whereas Albert could fool himself, he could not fool Frank, nor any of his colleagues. Oh the treasure of having a friend who’s been ‘there’ before …!”
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