



LADY ROSE, TROLLING THE MEAN STREETS, ALLEYS, ROADS, AVENUES, PATHS, BOULEVARDS, LANES, DRIVES AND THOROUGHFARES OF GREATER HARTFORDSHIRE views and news from a connecticut grrrl (who voted AGAINST blue back TWICE). grating on nutmeg and everyone's nerves
once again, cudos to the courant and the reporters who investigated this story. amazing! thank you for bringing it to our attention
Still Suffering, But Redeployed They have post-traumatic stress and other combat-related disorders. So what are they doing back in battle?
Story By LISA CHEDEKEL PHOTOS By Mark Mirko The Hartford Courant May 17 2006
Eight months ago, Staff Sgt. Bryce Syverson was damaged goods, so unsteady that doctors at Walter Reed Army Medical Center wouldn't let him wear socks or a belt.Syverson, 27, had landed in the psychiatric unit at Walter Reed after a breakdown that doctors traced to his 15-month tour in Iraq as a gunner on a Bradley tank. He was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and depression, and was put on a suicide watch and antidepressants, according to his family.Today, Syverson is back in the combat zone, part of a quick-reaction force in Kuwait that could be summoned to Iraq at any time. He got his deployment orders after being told he wasn't fit for duty.He got his gun back after being told he was too unstable to carry a weapon.But he hasn't quite managed to get his bearings."Nearly died on a PT test out here on a nice and really mild night because of the medication that I am taking," he wrote in a recent e-mail to his parents and brothers. "Head about to explode from the blood swelling inside, the [lightning] storm that happened in my head, the blurred vision, confusion, dizziness and a whole lot more. Not the best feeling in the entire world to have after being here for two days ... "And I ask myself what the F*** am I doing here?".....
that's what i want to know, WHAT THE EFF IS he doing with a gun and being deployed????????
ANN AND JAMES GUY visit the grave in Arlington National Cemetery of their son, Marine Pfc. Bobby Guy, on the first anniversary of the Marine's death, on April 21. The Guys did not find out until two months after his death, in a telephone conversation Ann had with a Marine official, that Bobby had committed suicide.
(Mark Mirko)
May. 16, 2006
Health Chief Responds
Assistant Secretary Of Defense: `Comprehensive Process' Determines Fitness
Assistant Secretary Of Defense: `Comprehensive Process' Determines Fitness
By LISA CHEDEKEL
And MATTHEW KAUFFMAN Courant Staff Writers
May 16 2006
The Defense Department's top health official and the Army Surgeon General on Monday defended the military's screening and treatment of mentally troubled troops, saying the mental health of service members is a top priority for the Armed Forces.
Responding to a series of articles in The Courant, Dr. William Winkenwerder Jr., assistant secretary of defense for health affairs, said he was satisfied that troops with serious mental illnesses are not being deployed to Iraq, and service members who develop mental problems in the war zone are receiving appropriate care.
"Our policy and our practice is to ensure that every deploying service member is fit, both physically and mentally," he said. "We have a very comprehensive process to do this.".........
Amid Patriotism, Anger And Questions
By MATTHEW KAUFFMAN
The Hartford Courant
May 16 2006
WILLARDS, Md. -- Just off the two-lane main street of this southern Maryland town, a couple doors shy of the big lumber mill that rumbles all day like thunder, Ann and Jim Guy's modest dwelling is the picture of a patriotic American home.
Out front, atop a tall white pole that dominates the postage-stamp yard, a scarlet and gold Marine Corps flag flutters in the wind, bearing the essence of the elite fighting force: eagle, globe, anchor and the venerable motto "Semper Fidelis."
Inside the house, that iconic emblem is stitched into quilts and pillows, engraved into picture frames, and printed on the only coffee mug Ann will put her lips to. "My son," the mug proclaims. "One of the few, the proud." The same Marine emblem adorns the gold ring on Jim's finger, the buckle on his belt, the watch on his wrist, the cap on his head.
And in the small living room, just above the piano laden with yet more Marine mementos, is the emotional epicenter of this home - an oversize portrait of Pfc. Robert Allen Guy in his Marine dress blues - his jaw rigid, his eyes determined.
It is a recruiting brochure fantasy of a proud, faithful military family.
But that family doesn't live here anymore.
They began to vanish at 4:15 p.m. on April 22, 2005, the precise moment Ann pulled open her front door, looked up from her wheelchair and found a somber trio of men in uniform staring back at her............
Potent Mixture: Zoloft & A Rifle
The military told Congress that medications aren't used to keep soldiers with serious mental illness in combat. But a Courant investigation reveals that drugs are increasingly being handed out.
STORY By LISA CHEDEKEL And MATTHEW KAUFFMAN
The Hartford Courant
May 16 2006
When Army Sgt. 1st Class Mark C. Warren was diagnosed with depression soon after his deployment to Iraq, a military doctor handed him a supply of the mood-altering drug Effexor.
Marine Pfc. Robert Allen Guy was given Zoloft to relieve the depression he developed in Iraq.
And Army Pfc. Melissa Hobart was dutifully taking the Celexa she was prescribed to ease the anxiety of being separated from her young daughter while in Baghdad.
All three were given antidepressants to help them make it through their tours of duty in Iraq - and all came home in coffins.
Warren, 44, and Guy, 26, committed suicide last year, according to the military; Hobart, 22, collapsed in June 2004, of a still-undetermined cause.
The three are among a growing number of mentally troubled service members who are being kept in combat and treated with potent psychotropic medications - a little-examined practice driven in part by a need to maintain troop strength.
Interviews with troops, families and medical experts, as well as autopsy and investigative reports obtained by The Courant, reveal that the emphasis on retention has had dangerous, and sometimes tragic, consequences............
my pops is 79 and still kicks ass. well up until a little while ago he did. in a week or so, he's going in for hip replacement surgery. after that it's off to rehab for a bit (we don't know how long yet). he'll be incapacitated for a while though. he can barely stand up. it hurts me to see him like this. he has always been a very active person. he walks daily (he knows EVERYONE in the hood and then some). this operation is a good thing. i am looking forward to him NOT being in constant pain. he never complains though. i remember when i was young, he went to work (he was a teamster at that time) with two broken ribs. SOOOOOOOOOOO someone has to mow his lawn! well, i already TOLD my brother in law, big bubba, HE was going to come over every weekend and mow that lawn. oh i forgot to say my pops is obsessive about his yard. he doesn't have the greenest grass or prettiest flowers BUT he is always the first one out to mow or snow blow or sand and salt or whatever. i'm not exaggerating; he IS the first one out there. friday, i stopped by his house and left him a note NOT to mow the lawn the next morning. i'd be over between 9 and 10 on saturday morning and i'd mow the lawn (well the front. we'd let the back go for another week). i arrived at 8:45 and of course as expected he was already outside doing something or other. i was barely out of the car and the FIRST thing he said to me was, 'you could have worn better shoes'. i had a pair of flip flops on. 'one can't mow the lawn in flip flops?' i thought to myself but let it go. i dragged him back in and made him a tea and myself a coffee. i needed a moment or two to collect my thoughts before the big morning of yard work. oh, there were lawn chairs he kept on his screened in porch for the winter he wanted to bring outside. i told him I WOULD DO IT. of course they were already outside when i arrived saturday. and one wonders where i got my stubbornness (and if you can imagine my mother was the stubborn one!). now i'm ready to start, we go outside and i take one of those chairs from the back yard and bring it to the front so he can supervise me mowing his lawn. he started the mower for me and showed me something about pulling this bar back that made it keep running. he showed me how to prime it and he showed me this lever to push down that made the wheels turn automatically (after i engaged those wow, what a difference. of course i didn't do it right away though, dope that i am). so i mow the front lawn going in concentric squares. i didn't do the spots around his bushes good enough of course, so he had to get up and do them himself. i had to keep glancing over at him (while he WAS in the chair) and every time i did, i just burst out laughing. you sort of had to be there, to see ME mowing a lawn with an actual lawn mower. i got specific explicit instructions on how far to mow on either side. to the edge of the neighbor's house on the left and to the line of the big tree in back for the house on the right. the mower stalled a few times and some type of height adjustment had to be made and then it was smooth sailing. i stopped the mower and looked over to the chair. he was NOWHERE TO BE FOUND. he was back in the garage bringing out his leaf blower. he blew every speck of grass off of the sidewalks and driveway. then he blew it off of tapparentlyer. apparantly that job was too complicated for me to handle or understand. hell as it turns out it got WICKED WINDY later in the day and the damn grass shards or whatever the hell they are called WOULD have blown away any damn way. just as i was about to go back in the house, he looked at my feet and said, 'see!!!'. i looked down and not only were my pink fuzzy flip flops all green (don't be sad, they were last years and on their last legs. i'll make new fuzzy ones this year) but MY FEET AND TOENAILS WERE ALL STAINED GREEN. damn the geezer was right about the shoes! we have one more weekend before he goes in for surgery. i'm calling big bubba up and telling him it's HIS turn next! i'm done, i've had it, finis!!!
(pictures: my dad's lawn that I DID SUCH A BEAUTIFUL JOB MOWING. his cat, frog and turtle and his azalea bush)
sounds like one cool woman! i've never been to pastis but have heard good things about it. seems like this is an incentive to go some thursday.
Margaritas, Margaret's Crab Cakes Keep Her Going To Pastis At 104
By PAT SEREMET
Courant Staff Writer April 26 2006
Every Thursday evening around 5:30, the staff at Pastis restaurant sets the same three places at the bar, with three neatly folded cloth napkins and a brass-plated "Reserved" sign. The Cuervo 1800 and the Grand Marnier are at the ready, the cocktail shaker within reach, the margarita salt poised to circle the rim of a glass.Enter the guest of honor. It's Margaret White of Hartford, who for four years has made this visit a Thursday habit, coming with her longtime friends and next-door neighbors, John and Clara Glynn. White has lovely coiffed white hair, radiant skin, dancing blue eyes that match her dangling earrings, which also pick up the blue in her yellow-and-blue plaid jacket."Sometimes she walks up to the bar so fast, I can't keep up with her," says Debbie Rossitto, Pastis general manager.White is 104 years old.When she grew up in the city, graduating from Hartford Public High School, she recalls, "Hartford was a beautiful place. They had an opera house. You could go downtown to a show, and nobody would bother you. I remember men would go downtown to get their growler of beer. We used to walk 3 miles to work because the trolley would take too long."Her parents, who had five other children, were born in Hartford; her grandparents came from Ireland."Hello, Margaret, I'm Tracy," a bartender says to White as she shakes up her margarita."They know how to make a good one," White says.Most of the staffers know her well and come over to give her a hug or an impromptu back massage.She usually enjoys a couple of margaritas and, of course, has to have the crab cakes that bear her name on the menu - "Margaret's Favorite Seared Crab Cakes." She occasionally tops off the night with a sombrero.White still maintains a house in the city's West End, the same house where she has lived for more than 70 years. She does her own housework. On Monday, John Glynn saw her cleaning around her rose bushes. Three months every summer, she's down at her cottage in Old Lyme.Rossitto describes the beautiful floor in a floral design that White painted on her porch when she was 100. Then there were the Raggedy Ann dolls she made last Christmas from a pattern she hadn't used for 50 years............