Over the past year I’ve been lucky enough to spend time with wounded soldiers, many of them Special Forces and most of them amputees. We first met at Feherty’s IED of Golf, an event in July during the week of Tiger’s event at Congressional. I was still feeling the effects of having been flattened by a truck in a bicycling accident, and a Green Beret named John Wayne Walding, who lost his right leg below the knee in one of the most horrific firefights of the Afghan war, asked me how I was feeling. I said I was doing great other than my left shoulder, which had been so badly separated that it would be a year before I could start rehab. “No it isn’t,” he replied. He bent down, pulled off his prosthetic, held it up and pointed at it, grinning like an idiot. “That’s f—ing separated.”
Read the whole thing.
Hat tip to my friend Bob.
