From Tragedy to Triumph: A Reminder This Veterans Day to Never Surrender

I am just one of many veterans that raised their right hand and swore to defend our country. Each one of us has a story to tell and I would encourage you to listen, not just on Veterans Day, but every other day of the year.

To say my military service was life-changing is an understatement. Through basic-training, Green Beret training, deployments to the Philippines, Thailand and twice to Afghanistan, I was taught to think outside of the box, given the tools to lead and realized that nothing was impossible. I was pushed physically and mentally beyond anything I thought was humanly possible. My character, resolve and determination were challenged on a daily basis. However, the greatest test of my mettle came at 27 years old when a single bullet changed the course of my life and taught me the virtues of humility and empathy.

On September 25th, in the 10th hour of a firefight, I was shot in the lower abdomen. My injuries were severe, 20% of my colon had been removed, my hip was fractured and I sustained a damaged femoral nerve that paralyzed my left leg. To repair the damage, I underwent six surgeries, the last of which was an experimental surgery at the Mayo Clinic. These procedures have left my body with over 40 inches of scars. I had to perform 1000’s of hours of physical therapy to re-learn simple tasks like walking and navigating stairs. I went from being a former college football player who served in the Army’s most elite unit, to a man that needed help putting on his socks.

For months on end I was in constant pain and barely slept. I spent long sleepless nights on my couch with a drink in my hand and tears on my face, questioning why God let me survive my injuries only to suffer so much. Like so many others, I struggled to get off of my prescription narcotics. When I left the Mayo Clinic, I was prescribed 12 pills of extra-strength morphine, 12 Percocet and 2 Valium, a total of 26 pills per day. At the time I needed every pill, because the pain I felt when I woke up from my last surgery was worse than when I was shot. Several months after the surgery, I was able to work my way down to 1-3 pills a day; however, I could not kick those last few.

A once promising future began to seem like a dim reality until my wife finally intervened 11 months after my initial injuries and 6 months after my last surgery. She asked me, “Is this it? Is this what you are going to do with the rest of your life?” I played the wounded veteran card and told her it was only 1 or 2 pills a day but she was not having any of it. She said, “it is 1-2 today and next year it is 2-3 and then 3-4 and the next thing you know you are addicted.” This was the angriest I had ever been with my wife, but after thinking about what she said, I realized she was right. I drew a line in the sand and stopped taking painkillers and began studying for my graduate school exams the next day. Almost a year later, I was accepted into the MIT Sloan School of Management and that fall I was accepted into the Harvard Kennedy School of Government to pursue concurrent Masters Degrees. In the spring of 2016, I graduated from Harvard and MIT and began working for Goldman Sachs that summer. Our family has grown to include two little girls.

That single bullet derailed my life and forced me to pass through the valley of humility. I walked a mile in others' shoes and experienced depression, anger, addiction, substance abuse and post-traumatic stress. While this was one of the darkest periods of my life, it never broke me. These experiences and lessons learned have made me a better husband, father, man and citizen of this country.

I used to question why I endured such suffering, but six years later, with the support of so many, I know why. In addition to being the best person that I can be, the purpose of my life is to share the lessons I learned from the toughest period of my life so that others may turn a tragedy into a triumph. From a man who has been through hell and back, no matter how dark it may get, there is a light at the end of the tunnel and it burns brighter than you can imagine. Happy Veterans Day.