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Three TBIs and one Caregiver. A love story.

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The story of Hector and Mary began in 2006 with a chance encounter in a bar in Mount Vernon, Illinois, where Hector, a Marine veteran on leave, stepped up to defend Mary from an unwanted suitor. Although they initially hid the truth about his military service due to Mary's hesitation toward that lifestyle, their bond deepened over time until Hector deployed to Iraq. During this deployment, he suffered his second traumatic brain injury (TBI) after being electrocuted while checking a communication line outside the wire. The incident left him with severe stuttering and significant memory loss, yet the medical response was inadequate, providing only basic pain relief before sending him back to duty. Upon returning home, Hector struggled to hide his condition from the Marine Corps for fear of being labeled non-deployable, eventually re-enlisting and attending recruiter school in an attempt to be closer to Mary. Tragedy struck again at recruiter school when a basketball accident caused a third major TBI, resulting in brain swelling that could not be fully assessed due to shrapnel in his eye. This injury fundamentally altered Hector's personality, transforming the calm anchor he once was into someone prone to sudden aggression and frustration, particularly when facing imperfections or memory lapses. As Mary watched her husband's world change, she found herself thrust into the role of a full-time caregiver, navigating his cognitive decline and emotional volatility. The pressure intensified during his recruiting duty when Hector experienced a profound mental health crisis involving homicidal ideation, leading to inpatient psychiatric care that shattered their trust and left him emotionally numb on heavy medication. Eventually, with the help of friends, they transitioned out of the military in 2014, only to face new invisible battles in civilian life where simple choices could trigger intense emotional shutdowns. By 2016, Mary was completely exhausted from the secondary trauma and the weight of managing their household alone, reaching a breaking point where she felt ready to give up. A recreational therapist named John intervened by pushing for Hector's admission to a winter sports clinic, where skiing helped restore his confidence and sense of freedom. However, this progress highlighted the stark lack of support for caregivers; when Mary sought help from a VA social worker, she was told there were no programs or resources available unless one was a paid caregiver. This revelation struck a blow to millions of unpaid family members who serve as the backbone of veteran recovery yet remain largely invisible to the system. Despite these barriers, Mary refused to stay on the sidelines, instead inserting herself into the caregiver network to advocate for change and build connections with others facing similar struggles. Today, Hector and Mary have forged a partnership strengthened by fire rather than fractured by it, finding solace in shared experiences at support groups where laughter replaces isolation. These gatherings provide a vital sanctuary for Mary, allowing her to relax without the constant anxiety of managing daily crises or worrying about their next move. Through counseling and peer networks, they have learned to navigate triggers, communicate effectively, and recognize that their struggles are not unique but part of a larger community ready to support them. As Hector now walks the clinics sharing his story and Mary builds roadmaps for other military families, their journey illustrates that neither the veteran nor the caregiver must face the invisible wounds of war alone. With DAV's advocacy expanding access to financial stipends, mental health services, and respite care, the narrative is shifting to ensure that caregivers are recognized, supported, and empowered to continue their vital service.
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[music] >> Welcome to the DAV podcast. I'm Jonathan Koopenger. And it's story time. Every veteran story has a beginning. Sometimes it starts in a recruiter's office. Sometimes on a battlefield. But for Marine veteran Hector and his wife Mary, it started in a crowded bar in Mount Vernon, Illinois back in 2006. Mary had just moved to town celebrating her birthday when a guy who didn't quite know how to take a hint was trying to get her number. And then the door swung open. >> Next thing I know, this good-looking guy walks through the through the door and yells, "Yo, TJ, get me a beer." And I spun around and like, "Who is that?" >> [laughter] >> Who commands a room? >> I was home on leave from before deploying to Iraq. Soon as I come in and we both clicked. Like we I I yeah. >> Hector stepped in with a bit of quick-witted courage. He walked up to the guy hitting on Mary and asked, "Why are you talking to my wife?" The guy pointed out that there wasn't a ring on her finger. Hector's response, "Oh, well, we left it at home so nobody would steal it." And that night Mary fashioned a ring out of a dollar bill and the two talked until 7:00 the next morning. >> [music] >> But Hector left out one detail. He didn't tell Mary he was a Marine. He just said he worked out in California because Mary had already been down the military road before. Really wasn't looking to get involved with that lifestyle again. But by the time she found the truth out a year later, she was already hooked. But neither of them could have predicted the twisting harrowing path that lay ahead. Or the fact that Mary's role would drastically shift from wife to caregiver, navigator, and lifesaver. In 2006, Hector deployed to Iraq. It was during this deployment that he suffered a traumatic brain injury, his second TBI overall, in an incident that should have taken his life. Hector was checking a communication line that kept going down outside the wire. >> As soon as I um hooked the cable, I it completed the circuit right through my body. And I couldn't get it off. I was just like there, and I was like I couldn't do anything. I couldn't move my jaw, and I felt my whole like my muscles were betraying me. Like I couldn't move anything, and then uh all I kept kept saying kick it, kick it, kick it. >> The lance corporal with him finally kicked the cable so hard he fell backwards, breaking the current. The switch [music] hadn't been grounded. Hector survived, but the electricity left immediate damage. He began stuttering severely and lost vast blocks of his memory. When he managed to call home, his mother knew instantly that something was wrong. Yet, in the stark reality of the deployment cycle at the time, the medical response was jarringly basic. >> They gave him Motrin and water and sent him back out. >> The one of the guys said it's like with how much amperage was going through that cable, you should have been dead. Uh it wasn't it wasn't my time. >> Hector finished the deployment hiding his struggles from the Marine Corps out of fear of being labeled non-deployable. He got out in 2008, but missed the Corps terribly. After a period of long-distance dating, he re-enlisted, served a two-year tour in Okinawa, and eventually went to recruiter school so he could be closer to Mary. But at recruiter school, tragedy struck again. During a basketball game, a large [music] student ran Hector over like a semi-truck hitting a compact car. He was knocked unconscious, suffering his third major [music] TBI, and his brain began to swell. Because he had three pieces of shrapnel embedded in his left eye from a previous incident, they couldn't give him an MRI, relying only on CT scans. And once again, the Marine inside him pushed through when he should have just rested. But this time, the damage couldn't be hidden. And Mary was thrust onto the front lines of an entirely different kind of warfare. Mary was studying [music] to be an occupational therapy assistant at the time, and she knew the medical reality. Hector needed absolute brain rest. >> [music] >> No TV, no reading, no studying. >> [music] >> Instead, Hector pushed through recruiter school, and Mary watched [music] his entire personality alter. You see, when they first met, Mary was the explosive person, and Hector was the calm, chill anchor who would sit down with her son and talk through a problem with absolute patience. But after the third TBI, the switch flipped. >> He became [music] the one that would attack quick or be aggressive quickly. I remember one time he was making trying to make an omelet, and the egg was not turning out the way it he wanted it, and next thing I know, the fly frying pan goes flying, and I was like, "Shit, what did I get into?" >> It It was like a perfection because I was I knew I was losing control. It was I I wanted it to be perfect, and and it wasn't working, and I was like it was more angry because I was losing control and I couldn't do things [music] like I used to. >> Hector was drowning in his own changing mind, struggling with word finding and memory. If Mary tried to finish a sentence for him, it sparked intense frustration. And this is where the unseen work of a caregiver truly begins. Mary had to learn to watch his eyes and his body language, being hyper-vigilant in recognizing the invisible warning signs of a bad day. She became his cognitive proxy, [music] absorbing his frustration while trying to keep their world from spinning out of control. The pressure peaked during his recruiting duty. The crushing hours and structural friction triggered a profound mental health crisis. Hector found himself dealing with extreme homicidal ideation towards a colleague, called Mary who desperately urged him to go to the emergency room. But instead of finding a safe harbor, they put him on heavy medication that left him entirely numb. >> I can't feel anything if I one of my [music] family members or anything died, I don't think I'd cry. It was to the point I was like, "Look, listen. If I'm going 70, 80 miles an hour on a highway and I let go the steering wheel and if it goes left or right and I hit a tree, the car hit the tree and I run through the windshield and hit the tree, I don't think I'd feel it. >> When he confessed those thoughts to the doctors, the military police and EMTs were called. Hector was taken to inpatient psychiatric care. Trust was entirely shattered. To survive the system and prevent being administratively separated, Hector learned to put on what he calls the clown face, researching what [music] to say to pass his medical checks just to get out. Eventually, with the help of a friend, they escaped recruiting duty, transitioned out of the military in 2014, and moved back to Illinois. But the civilian world brought its own invisible battlefields. Simple everyday choices like deciding what clothes to wear without a military uniform guideline could trigger a whirlwind of anger and absolute shutdown. And who bears the brunt of this whirlwind? The caregiver. By 2016, Mary was completely exhausted by the emotional rollercoaster, the secondary trauma, and the sheer weight of carrying an entire household on her shoulders. She was ready to call it quits. And then came a recreational therapist named John. John recognized the deep pain Hector was carrying and spent weeks pushing a package to get him into the winter sports clinic. Hector, born in Puerto Rico, joked that he didn't ski because there wasn't any snow on the island. But John persisted. And that mountain changed everything. >> But by the, you know, second, third day into it, man, I was it I was sold. It's like going up to the mountain and just coming down the hill and able to make [music] turns. It built that confidence. And it's just like, man, it was just like freedom again. And meeting other veterans, uh you know, especially the TBI the the TBI support group, [music] 10 years ago, that turned my whole life around. >> But while Hector was finding his footing on the snow, Mary was realizing the stark painful truth about the veteran support system. In 2023, during a TBI support meeting at the clinic, Hector publicly shared for the first time just how close his suicidal ideations had come to reality. It was a breakthrough for him, but a heavy crushing weight for her. And this was when Mary realized she was entirely alone in her foxhole. >> As a caregiver, it was like, who do I have to talk to? Who do I have to connect I was struggling because taking care of the house, working, taking care of him, taking care of the kids. We hit a rut in the road and things were getting ugly again and I felt like we were going into that dark zone again. And I was like, I can't do this again. And so I text John and I was like, I need resources. I need help. What is there for the caregiver? I think they were social workers um and she goes, oh, there's nothing. And she was a VA, I think she was a social worker. And she goes, there's nothing for caregivers. She goes, we don't have any programs. Unless you're a paid caregiver, we can't help you. And I was like, I was like, you got to be kidding me. Like, no wonder like veterans are like high on the divorce, high on the suicidal rates. No wonder like spouses just walk away because they they've had enough. >> There's nothing. Those words are a gut punch to the millions of family caregivers across the country. They are the unpaid, unsung backbone of veteran recovery. Saving the health care system billions of dollars, yet they are routinely left out in the cold. At DAV, we know that when a veteran is wounded, the whole family serves. That's why changing this exact narrative is at the heart [music] of DAV's mission. Through relentless advocacy, DAV has fought to expand the VA's program of comprehensive assistance for family caregivers, ensuring that caregivers of all eras get their financial stipends, mental health services, and respite care they drastically need. Because a caregiver shouldn't have to be paid by an outside agency just to have their burdens recognized by the VA. Mary texted John with a desperate plea. We need help now. He connected them with a VA marriage counselor who helped save the relationship, teaching them how to navigate communication, recognize triggers, and manage vocal tone. Yet the early institutional barriers remained. >> [music] >> At a subsequent event, caregivers were initially told they could only watch from the sidelines. And when Mary [music] complained, Hector gave her some tough Marine style love. He said stop complaining and find a solution. And that's exactly what Mary did. >> [music] >> She inserted herself into the caregiver network pushing for change. And today the strict walls have broken down making room for true fellowship, connection, and believe it or not a lot of laughter. >> It was a good ab workout tonight. Laughing and also facial workout cuz man it was busy. Nothing nonstop over there. There's 20 cuz we're laughing I was like oh yeah I've been there. Welcome to the club. I was like I will forget this and we'll forget that and it's like comparison I was like oh man that's we're not alone. And we're not crazy. >> Tonight getting invited to special dinner, getting to sit down with other caregivers and theirs their participant and just being able to cut loose, laugh, and just have a really good time, um building those connections with other caregivers, um sharing resources, and and just knowing that there's other people out there that have either walked the walk or they're walking a harder walk than what we're walking. >> For Mary these moments offer a rare vital sanctuary. Back home life is high stakes and a real date night can be incredibly hard to come by. >> Cuz there's days that the anxiety runs high whether you know just coming down here. And we were talking about how anxiety can affect them and keeping them on time, telling them where to go, and just being able to come down here and enjoy a dinner, enjoy a night, and not have to worry about where we where we got to go next or what do we have to do or it was just it was nice to just relax. >> They deal with us and you know they're the one that know our downfalls. >> And your triggers. >> Our triggers and how to handle and and then coming out here and then seeing some of the stuff that they'll learn and I'll say oh well you did this. This is help you out. So, like we should try that at home or anything, and but not knowing in the background of how much >> It works. >> that she has done with my recovery, especially, you know, that you know the story of you know, from a few months ago, and it had opened so much door uh since then, and I know she has gone through a lot. >> In the world of trauma and TBI recovery, the path is never linear. >> [music] >> There are peaks, and there are valleys. But when you look at Hector and Mary today, you don't see a couple fracturing under the weight of injury. You see a partnership forged in fire. >> It It makes those downhills easier to swallow because like right now it's a uphill, right? And we're on a high. And so, if we do tumble, it's easier to remember, okay, this is just a valley that we have to climb out of. And sometimes we learn new tools, sometimes we learn each other's triggers or tone that hey, it wasn't meant. It allows us room to grow, and that has strengthened us. >> Yeah, and not only that, it's like okay, so whenever I'm struggling or I'm at my low or anything, she'll come around and say like, you're loved, dude. It's like, you got remember those guys, remember this. Pulled me right out of that dark or dark or that hole that I was in, and and just re- introducing those thoughts and memories, and it's just great, and then it just makes us stronger. I mean, it we're right now we're we're fighting we're fighting together, not against. >> Today, Hector spends his time walking around the clinics, talking to other veterans, listening to their stories, and sharing his own. And right beside him is Mary, no longer walking on eggshells, but building a roadmap for other military families. If you or a loved one are navigating the invisible wounds of war, remember that neither the veteran nor the caregiver has to complete this circuit alone. There is a community ready to pull you through. For our veterans, if you're struggling with the transition, dealing with the aftermath of a TBI, or need help securing the medical benefits you earned, DAV is here. You can connect with a DAV benefits advocate entirely free of charge by visiting dav.org [music] and click on the get help now button. They will help you navigate the system so you don't have to fight it on your own. For our caregivers, if you're feeling isolated in your foxhole like Mary once was, please know that your service [music] is seen and you deserve a roadmap, too. You are a critical part of the care team and DAV is fighting for you on Capitol Hill and in local communities. Through our partnership and initiatives, DAV offers dedicated support, peer networks, and resources tailored specifically for military families. Head to dav.org, click on the get help now button, and scroll down [music] to the caregivers tab, find your community, access caregiver specific resources, and claim your strength. Don't wait for things to boil over. Reach out, find your solution, and let's build that roadmap together. If Hector and Mary's story resonated with you, please take a moment to like this episode, subscribe to the podcast, and drop a comment below. Sharing your thoughts helps DAV reach more military families who might be looking for their own way out of a foxhole. Until next time, I'm Jonathan Copeinger.