Since he came back, he has been an entirely different person - cold, distant, mean, and almost certianly suffering from PTSD. They have a beautiful 2 year old daughter and he spends almost no time with her.

It's so sad to me and I wish there was something I could do. How do you make a relationship work when you are never togethe (and the time you are together, you are planning to be apart again). This was my biggest fear for Joe and I, but at least in our case, we have talked a lot about it. My friend's husband has no interest in either acknowledgin the problem or doing something about it. He has changed so much and my heart really aches for my friend who just wants a loving, kind companion in life.

That's heartbreaking stuff. I wonder if he'd listen to somebody from his own unit.

That's heartbreaking stuff. I wonder if he'd listen to somebody from his own unit.

I think he might. Except that he's in a command position currently meaning that, as far as he's concerned, any inability to deal with his own life in weakness. He has recovered physically from the almost-death experience, but I suspect he still has a lot of baggage from that.

I think the biggest factor preventing him from trying to get help is the fact that he's going back there in a few weeks for another year. While I don't like his behavior over the last year, I can see how exploring feelings and opening oneself up to that might be hard in the face of returning to the "battlefield" for a year.

It's been almost an hour. I think I killed the thread.

I don't know what back labor is, and I'm too busy eating with my non-typing hand to google.

Was ist back labor, please?

I'm too busy eating with my non-typing hand

Ah, dinner at the computer, with the Buffistas.

Labor where you feel most of the pain in your back, with residual pain between contractions.

Or, as mother said, it felt like her back was being snapped in half over and over again.

Where your contractions start and maintain in your back and side, from what I know.

Back labor is a pretty standard plot device. You know, the heroine thinks she's had a backache all day, and then she's kidnapped or something, and her water breaks and she realizes she gonna have the baby RIGHT NOW, and the hero has like, 5 minutes to kill the villian, realize he loves her/is the father/isn't really an insane ninja vampire (or all three) AND delivery her baby in the middle of the desert/Arctic/crashing spaceship?

Back labor.

Happy Day After V-Day! Cheap chocolate for all!!

I joined a gym today. Combat the chocolate.

Ack! Why is the NY Times giving me Clan of the Cave Bear flashbacks?

Good god. So unneeded.

come on out here, where the old-timers simply refer to cribbage as "The Game".

That SOUNDS so hard-core, and yet...cribbage.

I'm actually engaged to be married. Unfortunatly, not until I'm 80. Then we shall move to Boca, wear knee socks and play shuffle board, and go to dinner at 3:30 in the afternoon. It shall be a happy time. If only I didn't have to wait through this so-called 'prime of my life'!

Someday, someday.

the DH and I came in 7th (doubles) at the World Cribbage Championship tournament a few years ago

That's pretty cool! Even if I have no idea how Cribbage is played.

Yay for paying down debt, Susan!

My friends that bought a place for $80k

That makes me so sad. $80K?? I couldn't buy a SHACK for $80K here. Which is why I want to move, in a few years.

accidently caused a riot in London once

I miss Erin. Also, I need to hear about this.

Or, as mother said, it felt like her back was being snapped in half over and over again.

More like someone jamming a red-hot poker into your kidneys, over and over again. Thirteen hours of that shit and I was ready to kiss my OB when he said it was time for a c-section.

I miss Erin. Also, I need to hear about this.

Basically, I got really drunk at an Aussie bar, went home, started schreeching at drunk Irishmen in the street out of the window in bad accents, flashed my tits and yelled something along the lines of "Come on up!"

They stormed the door, someone let them in (it was a big building full of students) and they started barging about, evidently loking for the crazy naked Polish/Irish/American girl. My friends promptly locked me in a closet, lied to the Irish guys, who got locked out and started banging obnoxiously on the California students' building next door. Since it was 4 a.m., the California students response was to throw some furniture (like, a couple of chairs) out at the Irish guys, who started to attack the dangerous furniture and building with drunken horny Irish fervor, someones called the cops and an amazing 15 seconds later. the efficient English police were bundling up the 10 or so drunk Irish guys, while I was banging on the inside of a closet door, demanding to be let out.

It wasn't MUCH of a riot. But there it is.