thedrifter
12-04-06, 07:37 AM
An injured war vet and her dog start over -- together
By: SHARON COHEN - Associated Press
Jamie Dana nearly died in a bombing in Iraq -- her lungs collapsed, her spine was fractured, her pelvis was shattered -- but when she watches news of the war, she thinks she still should be there.
"I feel like I'm not doing my part," she says. "I'm going to always feel like I didn't finish the mission."
Dana, a former Air Force security forces dog handler, was severely injured just three weeks after arriving in Iraq last year. A bomb exploded beneath the Humvee she was riding in with Rex, her bomb-sniffing German shepherd, as they were returning from a mission.
Rushed to a field hospital in Kirkuk, Dana recalls being desperately worried about her partner. "Where's Rex?" she asked. "Where's Rex?"
At first, she was told -- incorrectly -- that Rex had died. A convoy dispatched after the attack later spotted the slightly bruised dog, shouted his name and he came running.
Dana and Rex had been inseparable for three years before Iraq. The war and a near-death experience threatened to change that.
So when Dana, now 27, came home to recover from her wounds -- which also included internal bleeding, a concussion and the loss of her spleen and gall bladder -- she lobbied to adopt Rex even though he officially was still a military working dog.
It took an act of Congress and President Bush's signature for Dana and Rex to stay together.
Rex has been her constant companion as she sorts out her life and plans her next move.
Though she has healed since the June 2005 attack, she knows she isn't as physically agile as she used to be, probably ruling out the law enforcement career she once planned. She also has memory problems from her head injury; she did, however, recently complete her college degree.
"I'm trying to find some kind of normalcy," Dana says. "It's tough. The military has been my life for nine years. Now I'm just sitting here waiting to do something. I don't know what that is."
She's thinking about working with a canine search-and-rescue team.
For now, she's raising horses in rural Pennsylvania -- she rode as a child -- and tending to Rex and other dogs.
She still struggles with guilt, too. She recalls one night in intensive care when she could hear doctors as they worked unsuccessfully on a soldier on the other side of the curtain.
"I remember lying there as they were trying to save him (thinking), 'Why not let him make it, instead of me?' " she recalls. "His wife was seven months pregnant. Why am I here? So many more should have come back instead."
"It's a 'why me?' in reverse," Dana says. "Why did I get off so lucky? ... There's no answer for that."
Ellie
By: SHARON COHEN - Associated Press
Jamie Dana nearly died in a bombing in Iraq -- her lungs collapsed, her spine was fractured, her pelvis was shattered -- but when she watches news of the war, she thinks she still should be there.
"I feel like I'm not doing my part," she says. "I'm going to always feel like I didn't finish the mission."
Dana, a former Air Force security forces dog handler, was severely injured just three weeks after arriving in Iraq last year. A bomb exploded beneath the Humvee she was riding in with Rex, her bomb-sniffing German shepherd, as they were returning from a mission.
Rushed to a field hospital in Kirkuk, Dana recalls being desperately worried about her partner. "Where's Rex?" she asked. "Where's Rex?"
At first, she was told -- incorrectly -- that Rex had died. A convoy dispatched after the attack later spotted the slightly bruised dog, shouted his name and he came running.
Dana and Rex had been inseparable for three years before Iraq. The war and a near-death experience threatened to change that.
So when Dana, now 27, came home to recover from her wounds -- which also included internal bleeding, a concussion and the loss of her spleen and gall bladder -- she lobbied to adopt Rex even though he officially was still a military working dog.
It took an act of Congress and President Bush's signature for Dana and Rex to stay together.
Rex has been her constant companion as she sorts out her life and plans her next move.
Though she has healed since the June 2005 attack, she knows she isn't as physically agile as she used to be, probably ruling out the law enforcement career she once planned. She also has memory problems from her head injury; she did, however, recently complete her college degree.
"I'm trying to find some kind of normalcy," Dana says. "It's tough. The military has been my life for nine years. Now I'm just sitting here waiting to do something. I don't know what that is."
She's thinking about working with a canine search-and-rescue team.
For now, she's raising horses in rural Pennsylvania -- she rode as a child -- and tending to Rex and other dogs.
She still struggles with guilt, too. She recalls one night in intensive care when she could hear doctors as they worked unsuccessfully on a soldier on the other side of the curtain.
"I remember lying there as they were trying to save him (thinking), 'Why not let him make it, instead of me?' " she recalls. "His wife was seven months pregnant. Why am I here? So many more should have come back instead."
"It's a 'why me?' in reverse," Dana says. "Why did I get off so lucky? ... There's no answer for that."
Ellie