We had a following of fifteen thousand people on social media. Our visit with President Obama caused a huge stir of attention, but I think we continued to grow because people enjoyed watching Josh get better. People were inspired by Josh, which helped Josh keep going. Confident in his progress, Josh encouraged me to rejoin my club team at Nationals in Columbus, Ohio. I couldn’t believe we were even discussing me leaving him overnight, but I was completely confident in my mother-in-law, and Josh was inching out of the “sickness” stage of recovery. It’s difficult to take care of a patient who is both hurt and sick. I didn’t realize sickness would be part of this process. Managing pain and doing physical therapy could always be interrupted by fever, nausea, or extreme fatigue, all signaling something wrong internally while we tried to regulate the external. The pain still ranged from everyday aches to phantom limb pain, but we had medications and therapy techniques we could use to get Josh some relief. There were no techniques for fevers or surprise vomiting other than to cool him off and clean him up. For about two weeks I had observed the sickness dwindle. If Josh felt better, he would be easier to take care of while I was gone.
The tournament was only five hours away, and it would definitely be my last opportunity to coach this team. My time with President Obama had reminded me of my individuality. While I was so thankful to be Josh’s caregiver, there was more to me than what I had to do every day, and pursuing the opportunity to coach would be another great reminder of life beyond those white cinder block walls. So, my parents drove to DC and then drove me to Columbus to surprise my players. We arrived at the convention center after the five-hour drive with only Shane and Mandy aware of my presence. I checked in to the convention center and walked down the long hallways to find the hall my team was playing in. I saw a couple of parents from my team and literally dove behind a huge potted plant. Sneaking and scurrying through the convention center, I finally saw a hiding spot near the court my girls were playing on. I made eye contact with Mandy, and she about-faced and yelled at the team to walk like ducks in a row. When they approached me, I jumped out and surprised them, which induced a lot of crying from players and parents. Maybe not the best thing to do right before warm-ups for Nationals, but I was just glad to be back in the gym again.
JOSH
Meeting President Obama was one of my life’s biggest honors. Regardless of party or policy, the presidential seat is the highest-ranking position among both civilians and military. Thus, it is not only my duty but my genuine honor to be in the presence of the sitting commander-in-chief, a situation that I never thought I would experience. As an enlisted guy in the infantry, I rarely had experience with officers higher than an O3 captain. For the top of the chain of command to be in my room, asking how I’m doing and hugging my family, meant so much to me. I couldn’t believe Paige spoke up and offered to pray for him before he left. I also saw a lot of consolation from President Obama when he accepted the offer. I love and respect the formality of our military, but it doesn’t offer many opportunities to see the human side of people who outrank you. I loved seeing the human side of our nation’s leader, and I was very thankful he was willing to share that side of him with a bunch of strangers who could have met him with animosity because I was wounded. In a way, it gave me greater affection for my small role in our nation’s military, because I never thought the highest and the lowest would be in the same room praying for the same thing.
By July 2012, I had tallied over thirty surgeries on my arms and legs. My left arm and hand were shaping up better than we thought. At first, the doctors wanted to amputate some fingers because my middle finger was almost completely amputated, and my ring finger wasn’t looking good, either. I did not want to talk at all about
