July/Aug 2007
PTSD
in Today’s War Veterans: The Road to Recovery
By Richard Currey, PA-C
Social Work Today
Vol. 7 No. 4 P. 13
A stunning public health issue of PTSD in
today's war veterans is imminent. Mental health professionals
must prepare for the tough road ahead.
When former Army National Guard Captain Jullian
Goodrum first began experiencing the symptoms of posttraumatic
stress disorder (PTSD), he was confused. “I had no idea
what was going on. It was as if someone had slipped some sort
of bizarre drug into my coffee.” The Knoxville, TN, native
found himself haunted by grotesque nightmares and agonizing
daytime anxiety. As Goodrum’s symptoms progressed from
intermittent and annoying to constant and disabling, he experienced
a persistent fatigue and malaise that progressed to a paralyzing
depression.
It would ultimately be a civilian psychiatrist
who diagnosed Goodrum’s PTSD, underscoring the military’s
reticence about combat-related stress and its psychic fallout.
Although never an official stance, the Pentagon’s hesitancy
to confront and accept what is, in fact, a ubiquitous aspect
of combat has been long-standing and detrimental to the health
and stability of thousands of service members.
But the times—and both Pentagon and U.S.
Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) policies—may be changing.
Military doctors and combat medics are better educated about
the early triggers for PTSD. Combat stress teams—usually
medics with additional training in counseling and psychological
assessment—now serve on the ground with combat units.
A unique pilot program at Walter Reed Army Medical Center has
utilized the skills of social workers in pioneering “whole
person” post-deployment care for service members struggling
with PTSD and other impacts of war. The VA’s National
Center for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder has developed an Iraq
War Clinician Guide, now in its second edition. And the VA’s
Seamless Transition of Returning Service Members initiative
is up and running.
“Seamless Transition is a special program
created by the VA and designed to specifically address the needs
of veterans who have served in Iraq and Afghanistan,”
explains Richard H. Selig, PhD, LSCSW, LCMFT. Selig is program
manager and coordinator of the Trauma & Transition Resource
Program for the VA’s Eastern Kansas Health Care System,
which includes two major VA medical centers in Leavenworth and
Topeka, KS. The goal of Seamless Transition, described in Congressional
testimony by Robert H. Roswell, MD, under secretary for health
for the VA, is straightforward: Deliver the highest level of
care in a timely manner.
The challenge imbedded in that 10-word mission
statement lies in the execution. PTSD, with its many associated
issues, impacts families and communities and is predicted by
many to soon be overwhelming.
Old Problem, New
Name
The diagnostic category now known as PTSD—309.81 in the
Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, fourth
edition—is, of course, a malady as old as war itself and
variable as every war’s political era and the unique geography
of combat, be it desert, jungle, or city streets. PTSD has gone
by many names through the years, from battle fatigue, shell
shock, combat exhaustion, acute situation reaction, and even,
in World War I, the clanks. Wherever there has been war, there
has been individual psychological devastation and the formidable
challenges of recovery. And it is here, in the landscape of
recovery, that caregivers work to understand the precarious
balance between memory and psyche. For clinical social workers,
in particular, there is a point in the near future when combat-related
stress disorders will touch virtually every facility, institution,
hospital, and private practice in America.
The general principles—and devastating
outcomes—of PTSD are well-known to most social workers.
PTSD has become something of a household term in the last decade,
and whether related to combat, an accident, or some other trauma,
the results are similar: anxiety, hypervigilance, and impulsive,
sometimes violent, behavior undercut by depression, substance
abuse, chronic unemployment, emotional numbness, homelessness,
and suicide. Recent research points to more than emotional distress
at the core of the phenomena, as biochemical pathways are increasingly
implicated in the behavioral changes that PTSD generates. As
mounting research and collective clinical experience confirms
that PTSD is not simply an affliction of battered and limping
psyches but a neurological disease as well, the coming national
burden of combat-related PTSD was clarified, ironically, by
the Army itself.
Looking at mental health problems in veterans
of Iraq and Afghanistan, Army psychiatrist Charles Hoge, MD,
and his colleagues at the Walter Reed Army Institute of Research
published in 2004 what is now regarded as a landmark study (Hoge,
C.W., Castro, C.A., Messer, S.C., et al. [2004]. Combat duty
in Iraq and Afghanistan, mental health problems, and barriers
to care. N Engl J Med, 351 (1): 13-22).
The Hoge study noted that more than 80% of soldiers
and Marines had experienced at least one firefight, with survey
respondents reporting “a very high level of combat experiences,
with more than 90% reporting being shot at, a high percentage
reporting handling dead bodies, knowing someone who was injured
or killed, or killing an enemy combatant.” As many as
one in six surveyed after returning from Iraq suffered major
depression, generalized anxiety, or met formal diagnostic criteria
for PTSD.
These observations reflect a combat force exposed
to multiple stressors that could far exceed anything seen in
recent conflicts. This guarantees a generation of veterans whose
psychological needs will trump anything the nation’s healthcare
providers have faced in the past. With other subsequent data
accruing, it is now generally understood that a stunning public
health issue of PTSD is in the offing. As if that were not disturbing
enough, the bad news, in the opinion of Matthew Friedman, MD,
PhD, director of the VA’s National Center for Post Traumatic
Stress Disorder, is that “the [Hoge] study underestimated
the prevalence of what we are going to see down the road.”
The Hoge study received widespread media attention,
rare for a scholarly article published in a journal devoted
to research and clinical medicine. But the study spoke to something
else—a national concern that transcends statistics about
a particular group of combat soldiers. These soldiers, much
like those of the Vietnam era, are fighting an increasingly
unpopular war. Among the many lessons of Vietnam, one appears
to have stayed with us: A war may lose political support, but
we cannot abandon that war’s veterans. The emerging challenge
for caregivers is recognizing the clinical variations of PTSD,
knowing how to address the needs of the veterans of Iraq and
Afghanistan, and becoming familiar with resources and programs.
As the nation’s eyes and hearts turn toward our veterans,
these demands will be particularly felt among clinical social
workers, who will inevitably see and manage a significant percentage
of postdeployment and veteran cases.
A Devastating
Detour
Goodrum enlisted in the Navy and served aboard a ship during
the first Gulf War. After leaving the Navy to attend college,
he realized he missed the order and structure of military life.
With an undergraduate degree completed, he returned to uniform,
this time as an Army National Guard officer.
“I looked forward to a career,”
he says. “I had every reason to think this is where I
could make my best contribution in life.” As a platoon
commander in Iraq in 2003, Goodrum led security forces tasked
with protecting convoys along unprotected (and often unmapped)
highways in the interior of Iraq. Despite desert standoffs with
insurgents, frequent mechanical breakdowns in hostile territory,
attacks on his convoy, and motivating an underequipped, frightened,
and stressed-out platoon, Goodrum aimed to do his job, complete
his tour, move on to another assignment, and carry on with his
career.
It was not to be. Goodrum returned to the United
States on other military duties but says he soon found himself
in trouble. “I was coming apart at the seams. There were
the dreams, the edginess, the constant sense that I had something
to fear—as if something or somebody that meant me harm
was just around the corner. My mind was no longer my mind. I
was going over a cliff,” he explains.
There had been a time, however, that Goodrum
remembered seeing himself as invincible, at least psychologically.
This attitude is not unusual; indeed, it is virtually a requirement
of military service. Many young soldiers imagine that the rigors
of battle will be tough but tolerable. They believe—and
the military has traditionally institutionalized this belief—that
only “weaker” comrades will succumb to some form
of PTSD.
This attitude toward the psychological impact
of combat hearkens back to an earlier time, exemplified by a
notorious episode in World War II when Gen George S. Patton
publicly derided—and slapped—a soldier suffering
from what we now know was PTSD. Although Patton was compelled
to apologize, his apology was more a public relations maneuver
than a reflection of official policy. And while neither the
Pentagon nor VA have ever formally repudiated PTSD or officially
refused to treat affected veterans, an informal perception has
long held sway that PTSD is a failing among an unstable few
“bad apples.”
Many veterans—Goodrum among them—are
eager to correct this misconception. And one way to do so, Goodrum
believes, is providing more training, education, and professional
support for social workers, psychologists, and psychiatrists
throughout the military and VA systems. “First, we need
to understand that PTSD can happen to anybody. Second, it’s
more common than we think. Consider my case: I was turned away
by the Army’s medical system. Turned away or ignored.
All the while, my PTSD was brewing unchecked. I’m sure
my situation is not all that unique, which suggests a broken
system that dishonors all Americans, not just those of us who
happened to serve. And, I say, if it’s broke, let’s
fix it,” he says.
This is precisely what’s happening at
the VA, illustrated in the work of Selig, program manager for,
in military parlance, OIF (Operation Iraqi Freedom) and OEF
(Operation Enduring Freedom) services. “I oversee all
Seamless Transition activities,” Selig says, “along
with coordination of care and services for all OIF/OEF service
members and veterans treated at our facilities.”
In that role, Selig also oversees a range of
clinical interventions for reservists and National Guard veterans.
“By virtue of a special memorandum of understanding between
the VA and the Kansas Army National Guard, we provide interventions
and care along a continuum from predeployment, deployment, and
postdeployment. While we certainly treat PTSD and related disorders,
the emphasis of this program is to begin to intervene with the
soldier and family before deployment in order to provide training
in the skills and techniques necessary to improve emotional
resiliency and strength. We want to improve personal resources
in an attempt to help reduce or mitigate the effects of stress—before
a soldier ever goes into action.”
Predeployment counseling is, in itself, innovative,
but there is another new and complicating element in this war.
“The ‘signature’ injury of this war,”
says Selig, “is traumatic brain injury (TBI).” This
injury results from a kind of mega-concussion, commonly seen
in survivors of explosions. TBI-affected individuals can be
as debilitated as stroke survivors and must relearn walking,
speaking, and simple motor skills. Veterans with concurrent
TBI and PTSD are increasingly common, compounding the complexity
of care and long-term alternatives. Recognizing that most wounded
veterans will not return from the front with only PTSD, “the
VA has established a Polytrauma System of Care in order to specifically
address issues related to lasting injuries due to polytrauma
and TBI,” according to Selig. “The VA polytrauma
system is organized around an interdisciplinary model of care
delivery. Specialists from several medical and rehabilitation
disciplines work together to develop an integrated treatment
plan for each veteran.”
Selig says the VA is improving coordination
of care for polytrauma veterans with concurrent PTSD by assigning
a social work case manager to every patient treated at the polytrauma
centers. This case manager coordinates the continuum of care;
acts as a point of contact for emerging medical, psychosocial,
or rehabilitation problems; and provides psychosocial support
and education. “This is all augmented via a new telehealth
network that links facilities and ensures that polytrauma and
TBI expertise are available throughout the entire system of
care,” Selig says.
“In regard to PTSD alone, the VA has over
200 specialized hospital-based PTSD programs,” Selig says.
“Here at the Eastern Kansas Health Care System, we have
both an inpatient and outpatient PTSD unit in addition to our
specialized treatment program designed for reservists and National
Guard personnel. And the VA has mandated additional funds, resources,
and staff to meet the growing mental health needs of OIF/OEF
veterans. Twenty-three new community vet centers have been added
to the VA system, and every new enrolling veteran is screened
for PTSD as well as TBI.”
Selig agrees that the number of vets in need
of mental health services (or related assistance) will rise.
“As the incidence of multiple deployments becomes increasingly
common,” he says, “soldiers are subjected to longer
and multiple tours of duty and are clearly at risk for higher
incidences of stress-related disorders.”
But Selig also emphasizes that with help, time,
and an organized care management system, most vets confronting
PTSD or polytrauma can recover. Goodrum confirms that, one year
or more from being “essentially a madman,” he is
working his way back home in both body and spirit, relocating
heart and soul. If the road has been treacherous, he sees new
hope and possibility in the days ahead.
When social workers find themselves working
with combat veterans, Selig emphasizes that essential knowledge
of and treatment skills in PTSD, as well as TBI, are critical.
“But beyond that,” he says, “I would draw
on our profession’s history and tradition of assessing
and interfacing with an individual in the context of systems—the
structure of a person’s life and interactions at familial,
community, and organizational levels.” Selig says that
combining all these ways that ensure a complete and comprehensive
view of an individual is what social workers do, and the multifaceted
effects of PTSD are arenas where the skills of social workers
are particularly appropriate.
Selig says, “Combat not only affects an
individual; it affects everything in that person’s life,
everybody they know, everybody that cares about them. Effective
treatment and transition from these experiences will require
the full and complete understanding of combat and its sequelae.”
— Richard Currey, PA-C, is based in
the Washington, D.C., area where he currently works with several
agencies within the National Institutes of Health as a writer
and consultant.
What To Look For
and How to Help
Fred Bush, LMSW, is the returning veteran behavioral care coordinator
at the Syracuse (NY) Veterans Affairs (VA) Medical Center. “Combat
stress is as much a community problem as it is an individual
issue,” Bush says. “Social workers inside the VA
system are passionate about getting the word out about combat-related
polytrauma. If we fail to educate providers and raise awareness
about this issue, the burden on social service agencies and
individual caregivers will be shocking.” Bush offers several
key points for social workers who are or will soon encounter
combat veterans in their practices, including the following:
• Readjustment issues are expected, but
if they persist, returning soldiers should seek help from a
mental health professional.
• Acute behavioral changes such as excessive
drinking, social isolation, or elevated levels of anxiety signal
a need for intervention.
• Soldiers returning from combat tend
to sleep lightly for some time, but continued problems sleeping
or repeated bad dreams are signs that help is needed.
• Marital readjustment periods after being
in a war zone are common. Returning spouses should feel needed
and useful and reclaim responsibilities they used to perform,
even if the spouse who stayed home has been doing them.
• Returning soldiers need at least one
person to talk to about their experiences. Family and friends
should make it clear, without excessive nudging or pressure,
that they are available and willing to listen. Some soldiers
will think they should not share accounts of dangerous or disturbing
situations they faced, fearing such stories will unnecessarily
disturb friends or family members. It is important to share
these stories with the right person and reach out for support.
• Returning soldiers may have been near
explosions and may have undiagnosed brain injuries. Unusual,
erratic, unexpected, or “out-of-character” behavior
could be a red flag indicating a need for intervention.
• Even if you disagree with the politics
surrounding the war, be sensitive when talking to returning
vets. A “thanks for your service” goes a long way.
For more information about readjustment issues
faced by returning soldiers or to find out how to get help,
call the Veterans Administration’s TelCare information
line at 888-838-7890.
— RC
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