GUT-SHOT BLUES
/GUT-SHOT BLUES
By Kirk Lawless
Imagine a brother officer, in uniform, walking along the highway on the shoulder. It’s winter, and the snow is swirling. Every passing car is throwing a spray of slush on him as he slows. Occasionally facing traffic, he throws a thumb out, looking for a ride sometimes waving frantically because he needs help. As the cars and trucks pass him, he’s holding his guts in, literally. He’s spattered with blood and he’s soaked from the wound to the ground, so much so, his footprints are bright red mixing with the white snow and grey slush until they are unrecognizable as he leaves a trail behind him.
He needs help and he’s bleeding out. His intestines are spilling through his hands and he’s pleading with the passers-by to stop and help him. Maybe just for a ride, some respite from the cold, or a simple warm, quiet place to die.
Not even police cars stop to help him. No one. Some folks slow down and look shaking their heads in sympathy, but they keep moving. Others look at him covered in gore and turn away just as quickly. Maybe they’re sympathetic but don’t want to get involved.
In disbelief, he now stands motionless as the gawkers pass him by. He is defeated standing there bleeding.
Could you imagine such a scenario playing out in real life, in real-time? Would you believe nobody, not even a fellow officer, would stop and render assistance and help him hold his guts in while reassuring him that he’s going to be okay? “I got you, brother.” Sounds unbelievable. Yes?
It’s purely hypothetical. Yet, still, there is no difference between the fictitious officer and a “real” brother or sister officer suffering in silence, alienated for doing their job, wounded and needing a hand. They’ve been discarded by their agency, treated like garbage, and left walking that same lonely road waiting for someone to stop and help. Do they need their guts spilling onto the asphalt to garner assistance?
I’ve learned a lot about brotherhood, loyalty, and friendship after a PTSD diagnosis. Not too many folks want to get their hands bloody with that sort of messy injury.
I’ve been self-healing, refusing to be put down like a broke-legged horse. Instead, I am turning my hate into positivity. I’m using my life lessons as a beacon to light the way for others who have been “gut shot” by a failing system and need help to stay on course to stay alive. I’ve walked that road. As my police career ended, my path turned to positive change. I was bent but not broken. Like a healed broken bone or a cut, scarred over, my wound became stronger than the original injury. And, it’s taken ten years to figure stuff out; lots of stuff.
Without a doubt, God had other plans for me and folks have sought me out for help, guidance and advice. I was reluctant at first. I’m just a guy, but also a “no bullshit” sort of guy. I’m a good listener, and I have compassion and empathy. I could not turn my back on a brother. It’s not in my nature. I’ve accumulated lots of life experience and enjoyed a stellar police career. I’ve experienced cumulative PTSD. I know firsthand what it is, what it does, what it does to daily living and what it does to family life. I know folks who have taken their own lives. I know people who have tried. I know folks who wanted to but didn’t. I’m pretty sure I played a part in that more than once.
If you know such an officer, remember the importance of the question, “Are you okay?” You don’t have to be an expert in anything! You don’t even have to offer advice. Just listen!
Cops routinely never ask for help, but if they’re struggling, you can help:
· Phone call to check in on them
· Groceries (they may be in a financial shit storm)
· Chores ( maybe they have physical limitations)
· Give them a ride ( maybe they can’t drive)
· Prescriptions (maybe they can’t afford medicine or insurance)
· Pay a bill for them (they won’t ask), you’ll have to sneak one. You’re cops for crying out loud, figure it out!
· Drop a gift card in the mail or leave one at the house during a visit or slip one to their spouse (you don’t have to say a word).
· Talk about stuff… anything. If they want to “talk” about what’s going on, they’ll talk. If they don’t do not pressure them.
· Have a drink with them, smoke a cigar, or sit with them and watch the world go by. Just don’t abandon them. That’s the worst feeling.
It’s not rocket science folks. It’s about compassion, friendship, love, empathy, and human nature. It’s about caring about your fellow man. Frankly, if you don’t possess some of those traits, you should probably hang up your badge and choose another career path.
Now let’s get back to the fictional, wounded officer.
Eventually, a police officer on patrol will see his brother on the side of the highway “gut-shot.” After sliding in the snow while braking hard and jerking his squad to the shoulder, he jumps out and comes to his brother’s aid.
A team of motorists also stop and help lift the officer and put him in the back of a brand new SUV. The owner doesn’t think twice about the blood and guts all over the interior of his car. “We’ve got to get this boy to the hospital. No time to wait for an ambulance.” His Brooks Brothers suit splattered with blood. The suit is ruined, as he wipes his bloody hands on his jacket and climbs in. With wet blood sticky on the steering wheel, tears begin rolling down his cheeks. One of the other motorists cradles the officer’s head and helps hold his guts in, holding him tightly in the back seat, as another slams the door. “Hang in there, buddy. We got you.”
The officer pulls in front of the SUV and rolls down the passenger window and hollers at the man in the expensive suit, “If you’re ready, let’s go. Try to keep up.” The man in the SUV nods. “I’m right behind you!” The team of rescuers, not thinking twice until after the taillights disappear in the distance, discovered they too are covered with the officer’s blood.
“God, I hope he makes it,” one of them whispers to another.
Does the officer make it? You tell me.
So, if my thumb’s out and my guts are almost dragging the ground, who’ll pull over and give a brother a lift?
