Thanks for everything Jack

   I was twenty-seven years old, and newly returned from Desert Storm.  I lived alone and my family was thousands of miles away.  We were put on mandatory leave for a couple of weeks, but two weeks with mom and dad was awkward in the least.  I didn't belong there anymore and my mind was still at war.  Once we returned to base, we waited.  The equipment had not yet returned from the desert and we had little to occupy our time.  We began most days with a long road march followed by unpacking the few things we had been able to bring back.  Still, I would have loved to have spent all my time at work.  At least I had my soldiers to take care of.  I found myself prolonging the day with paperwork delaying having to return to that empty apartment.  I wanted to go back.  To me, the mission had given me purpose.  In garrison, in the civilian world, I was somehow unnecessary.  I was anxious.  I couldn't sleep.  I jumped at every extraneous noise.  

    Soon afterward, my commander gave me forms to hand out.  They were medical surveys meant to determine what soldiers were having ill effects from their time in the desert.  I was relieved that they cared, that they wanted to help.  Maybe, finally, I would see someone that could help me rest, help me sleep.  I handed out the forms to my soldiers and filled out my own.  Then I waited.  One day, after a unit meeting, my commander asked me to remain behind.  He handed me back the form and said it had been rejected.  At first I thought I had forgotten to fill in a blank.  Then he said my form had been rejected because I had checked "yes" to trouble sleeping.  He said he wanted 100% on return of those forms.  As long as I was being rejected, he would not have his 100%.

    I wasn't going to get the help I needed by going through my chain of command.  I was on my own facing a private battle.  I waited patiently for time to heal what haunted me, but sleep would only come through total exhaustion.  So many nights and mornings, I lay there, restless, on the couch watching endless infomercials.  But then, I was sent help in a very mysterious way.    

    One morning, there was an infomercial about a Juicing machine.  The celebrity endorser was Jack LaLanne.  I had no idea who he was, but I remember how energetic he was, so full of life (and he wasn't a young man).  I so wanted to be full of life again.  I was looking for something, anything that would help me be the me I once was.  I called.  I spent the money, my first infomercial purchase.  I ordered a Juiceman (now there are several juicers on the market).  I began juicing right away.  I used it every day.  In no time at all, I was more energetic, my digestion was better, and best of all...I could sleep again.  Yes, I could sleep without the aid of alcohol or prescription drugs.  It made a huge difference.  It saved my life.  

    You know what?  I had that Juicer for more than ten years.  So, thank you Mr. LaLanne for getting my attention that morning so many years ago, for teaching me how to truly be a healthier woman, and for showing me the power of natural juicing.   

Rest in peace.