Building 18 - Ward 54

Greetings,

(Editor's note: Since the story broke 6 weeks ago they've closed Building 18. Ward 54 is the new monster and Bushmeister recently paid an apologetic courtesy call on paraplegics and wounded vets. The old story of delayed action-response.)

"...Bobby Muller, president of Veterans for America, said Bush didn't see areas of the hospital most in need of change. He cited Ward 54, where soldiers are suffering from acute mental health conditions, and outpatient holding facilities where soldiers see long waits to get processed out of the Army."

Here at Walter Bleed Hospital life is a bitch.

I live in Building 18. The walls are full of holes. Mold and fungus grows wild. Roaches run rampant. Let me tell you, the living conditions in Iraq were a far sight better than this hell hole, that is, until I lost my eyes bringing freedom to Babylon. Let's just say on that fateful day I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like here and now.

Now, I ain't well educated but here I was stumbling around looking for someone to help me find out-patient care for treatment and they gave me a map. Can you imagine, a blind grunt with a map of Bleed grounds.

Voices pointed here and there and over yonder's wall so I humped my disaster over to Fred's bed and Fred, well he has a serious brain injury sustained by an IED and he whispered to me in a conspirator's tone of voice you know, like real low and silent, "These idiots refuse to accept the fact my brain is fucked up. They said I'm just a slow learner. They said they're going to discharge me tomorrow because they need the bed for some wacko job coming in from Afghani land."

"What did they give you?"
"A one way bus ticket out of town and a handful of brain pills."
"Man, you got it good. All they gave me was this useless map."

Peace.