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Yep...Yep...and Yep. FWIW John, there are a lot of guys here would never hesitate to take a late night phone call or drop what they were doing to offer whatever support you needed. I've yet to share a campfire with you, but I am honored to know you and your story.
I hear what you are saying. But also read your own words, YOU kept him alive buddy, IMO it sounds like you did even more than that according to the doc at the hospital. You can't blame yourself for what happened after he got to the hospital and you can't blame them either. It was a bad deal all around. Celebrate the ones that you saved. I kept him alive for 45 minutes in a battle field, how in the hell couldn't a full blown hospital keep him alive with doctors and everything else? The doctor that worked on him came in to talk to me and commended me for what I did in the field and how I didn't really have to do all of it because according to military triage standards he was what was considered 'expectant', which means he will die soon, so make him comfortable and go on to deal with the others.
Celebrate the ones that you saved
From a medical standpoint I can accept his death. He lost both legs from the knees down and his right arm, plus he had inhalation burns, as well as organ damage from the concussion from the blast. But, as his buddy, that's what I have a hard time with. I knew his family. I had dinner with his wife and kids and played soccer and games with his kids and was accepted by them as part of the family. That's what hurts me. I feel like I let them down. They lost a husband and father. I went around the platoon and asked everyone if they would rather go home in a wheelchair or in a box, and Izzy was adament that no matter what, he wanted to go home alive, even if it meant no arms and legs. So, once again I feel like I let him down. What bothers me the most is that he died surrounded by strangers after I promised him that I wouldn't leave him. When we got Medevac'd to the hospital in Baghdad, they took him to a room separate from where I was and I ended up on a table getting worked on. Later that night I asked about him and I was told that he died about 20 minutes after getting to the hospital. I freaked out and was subsequently tackled and sedated and strapped to a bed. I kept him alive for 45 minutes in a battle field, how in the hell couldn't a full blown hospital keep him alive with doctors and everything else? The doctor that worked on him came in to talk to me and commended me for what I did in the field and how I didn't really have to do all of it because according to military triage standards he was what was considered 'expectant', which means he will die soon, so make him comfortable and go on to deal with the others. I told that doctor to #*^@#* off and invited him to come out in the field with us and tell my platoon that. You don't just let your buddies die.