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SOLDIER'S WIFE FIGHTS FOR WOUNDED AND FAMILIES
--
"He fought for his life. He doesn't need to
fight
anymore. None of them do."
Sarah Wade with husband Edward
For more about Sarah Wade, use the VA Watchdog search
engine...click here...
http://www.yourvabenefits.org/
sessearch.php?q=sarah
+wade&op=ph
Story here...
http://www.bnd
.com/273/story/139092.html
Story below:
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Soldier's wife fights for wounded, families
By BARBARA BARRETT
MCT
Washington -- Sarah Wade's phone rang the night before her usual shift
as a waitress and bartender at a Chapel Hill restaurant. It was her
boss. He said he had to let her go.
Wade, 32, has told this tale often, and she offered it again last week,
speaking into a microphone before members of Congress. Her boss, she
recalled, said Wade "had too much going on" in her life - what with her
husband missing a right arm and brain-injured because of a bomb blast in
Iraq.
Lawmakers and young staffers gasped. She was here to argue for
legislation that would allow family members to leave their jobs for six
months to care for troops wounded in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Her husband sat behind her, smiling with patient eyes, his prosthetic
arm resting in his lap. Sgt. Edward "Ted" Wade, 29, couldn't begin to
keep up with his wife's words. His sentences come slowly as his
blast-injured brain struggles to fire the synapses to execute his
thoughts.
This is how the couple often works, Sarah making the arguments about
what needs to change, her husband a quiet symbol for the system's
failings. For the first two years after his injury, she fought for him.
Now she wants to fix things not only for Ted but for other veterans who
don't have a voice. Returning to Washington again and again, she walks
the halls of Congress and makes calls up the chain to someone's boss's
boss.
In Washington, corporations pay lobbyists hundreds of thousands of
dollars to get their voices heard; but Wade has found that stubbornness
and a strong story can get attention, too.
"He fought for his life," Wade said of Ted in an interview. "He doesn't
need to fight anymore. None of them do."
So she went last week to a hearing of a House Education and Labor
subcommittee, arguing for legislation that would allow family members to
leave their jobs for six months to care for a loved one wounded in the
wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.
The bill is an extension of the 14-year-old Family Medical Leave Act,
which allows family members time off to care for newborns or sick family
members. Some in Congress want to extend the unpaid leave from three
months to six months for family members of injured service members.
A Senate version, sponsored by Democratic Sens. Chris Dodd and Hillary
Clinton, has been attached to a larger bill on children's health care in
that chamber.
The bill is important to Wade. But it wouldn't have applied to her. The
restaurant that fired her, GoodFellas, was too small to qualify for the
Family Medical Leave Act.
Wade says she was most frustrated that she didn't get any advance
notice. She was a part-time employee who could only work certain days,
and she said last week that the owner probably found it tough to cover
the workload.
"It's hard for small businesses, basically," Wade said. As a result, she
doesn't think the FMLA extension should include small businesses.
But her situation also points up the complexity of employment for family
members of injured service members. Steve Woodham, the owner of
GoodFellas, said Wade wasn't fired because of her flexibility, but
rather because of a personality clash with a new manager. It's true that
Wade was working only a few hours a week, he said, but scheduling hadn't
been a problem.
"It may be a misconception of what she thought the reason was," Woodham
said. "I would never do that. I have too much respect for Ted and what
he did for our country."
Some business professionals are wary of extending family leave. It could
exacerbate problems companies already face in juggling staff and
figuring out how to define "serious medical problems," said Christine
Vion-Gillespie, a human resources manager for SAS Institute in Cary,
N.C. Vion-Gillespie also testified at last week's hearing, on behalf of
the Society for Human Resources Management, a professional organization.
"Employers can be significantly affected" by their workers' leaves, she
said. "Adding an additional leave requirement to the FMLA ... will only
exacerbate the frustrations HR professionals have experienced."
She wants lawmakers to know: She and Ted aren't the only ones facing
these problems with jobs. Nearly 28,000 service members have been
injured in the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Thousands of spouses and
loved ones have left jobs to tend wounds, then struggle alone in a
bureaucracy that can leave many warriors behind.
"Being my husband's advocate, attendant, case manager, driver, personal
attendant, and of course, spouse, is more than a full-time job," Wade
testified this summer before a presidential commission on injured
troops. "Many families like ours are still struggling because of
mistakes made years ago that still go unresolved."
Ted's was one of the first severe brain injuries of the war, Wade said.
And she realized that, after years of fighting for her husband, she
could try to fight for others, too.
"She is one of the more gutsy, dynamic people I've ever met," said Bill
Cahill, chief counsel for the minority on the Senate Veterans' Affairs
Committee. "She tied that patient advocacy into national policy
advocacy. It's really nice to see."
Sarah Wade tells a lot of stories: how she and the young 82nd Airborne
soldier met arguing about a mixed drink she served him at GoodFellas.
How she flew to Germany after his injury in February 2004 and wept next
to her comatose fiance when American military doctors said there was
little hope for his survival. How she held his remaining hand and sobbed
to Ted that it was OK if he was ready to die.
She sensed somehow he wasn't. His fight became hers.
She tells of how the couple eventually married months later in the
Hillsborough, N.C., courthouse. A copier repairman served as a witness.
Ted could barely form words then.
But perhaps the most important story is the one that takes place in
Washington, in an underground parking garage on the afternoon in
February 2006 when someone found a suspicious white powder in a Senate
office building.
About 100 people were quarantined in the garage for fear of anthrax
contamination. They included Sarah Wade, who had gone to meet with
Cahill, the chief counsel. They also included about half a dozen U.S.
senators - Richard Burr of North Carolina among them - all of whom
happened to serve on the Armed Services or Veterans' Affairs committees.
Over three hours, Wade lobbied one after another.
The senators, engaged by the young blonde woman with a forceful voice,
started making calls in the coming weeks. Meanwhile, she was advocating
for Ted at Walter Reed Army Medical Center, meeting people who knew
other people. Word got around, and she and Ted eventually were invited
to meet with an undersecretary of Veterans Affairs at the Pentagon.
The couple became known because their story illustrated the struggles of
thousands like them.
Wade testified at a veterans' disability commission, then this summer at
the president's commission on wounded veterans. Last spring, she and Ted
stood at Clinton's side for a news conference announcing Clinton's bill
to screen soldiers for traumatic brain injury and train family members
to be personal care attendants.
She persuaded the Wounded Warriors Project, a national association that
organized sports outings and lobbying trips for amputees, to begin
advocating for patients with traumatic brain injury.
"She said, I'm going to teach you about this whether you want to hear
about it or not," said Meridith Beck, the organization's national policy
director. "She's very interested in resolving the issues, not only for
her husband, but for others as well."
Wade has been quoted in national publications, can tick off the
differences among various bills and has a calendar filled with
appointments. She still regularly visits Burr's staffers, and he will be
hearing more now that he is the top Republican on the Senate Veterans'
Affairs Committee.
In a statement, Burr called Wade "a strong and able advocate for our
veterans."
Wade came to this with some knowledge of the system. She grew up in
suburban Washington and spent a summer after high school interning on
Capitol Hill. She attended the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill
but quit for good after Ted's injury. Her and Ted's families have been
able to help pay the bills for now. She had considered returning to
school someday to study international affairs. Now she is considering
public policy.
"We've all sat around and complained, but that's not going to fix
anything," Wade said. "I feel there's an obligation to inform them, and
then you can complain if they don't fix anything."
Wade has a whole list of ideas that she can prioritize: a sharper focus
on helping family members, compensation for non-medical caregivers,
better coordination between the Defense and Veterans' Affairs agencies,
electronic paperwork, fuller health coverage for retired veterans.
Part of her success, she said, is understanding a bit how Washington
works. It's articulating exactly how the failures happen and offering
ideas for improvements rather than just complaining about her husband's
care.
Ted Wade was tired one morning last week after hours of therapy at
Walter Reed. He had practiced taking apart and putting together an M-16
with his prosthesis, then tried to balance his unsteady walking gait
under the guiding hand of a physical therapist.
Two years ago, he couldn't talk at all. Until his wife found a speech
therapist who understood brain injuries, the Army wanted to put him in
adult day care.
Last week, through long pauses and blinking eyes, Ted had this to say
about his wife:
"To have someone give so much for another person is just not seen so
often, I believe. That's why I'm still here.
"And still talking."
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Larry Scott --
