By Fred W. Baker III
American Forces Press Service
It was about that time that Conlan started having trouble sleeping. When he did sleep he had bad dreams. During the day Conlan sometimes suffered from what he called "unfocused anger."
"I would go from going perfectly happy to completely pissed off for no reason. I couldn't tell you why I was mad," Conlan said.
Working through his recovery was not easy for anyone in the family, and his mood swings made it considerably less easy.
One day, Conlan came home to find Becky holding a piece of paper. "She said 'These are the symptoms of [post traumatic stress disorder] and you pretty much have all of them. And I can't help you with this. So you either go get help or I'm going to have to leave because I can't do this,'" Conlan said. "That caught my attention."
Conlan walked into Wilford Hall's psychiatric services and asked for care. They gave him medicine for his sleeping problems, and counseling for his PTSD.
Returning to Service
By late August 2006, Conlan was on self-directed physical therapy. He still had a host of other related medical appointments. But the time had come for his physical evaluation board. Would he be allowed to finish his career in the Air Force? At that point, Conlan lacked only a few years from reaching the 20-year goal he set for himself when he joined.
"It was like a mental thing with me. I wanted to finish what I started. I was that close," Conlan said.
He wrote a letter to the Air Force board, asking that they allow him to stay on active duty. The Air Force, since the war began, has tried to be generous in its allowances to keep wounded servicemembers who want to stay in the service on active-duty. Remarkably, Conlan's board results came back that October with no duty limitation.
Air Force Maj. Matthew Conlan works at his office at the Air Force's counter-improvised explosive device office in Arlington, Va., just a few blocks away from the Pentagon. Conlan is a seriously injured wounded warrior who stayed on active duty to help the Air Force buy the right products to combat the radio-controlled bombs that the enemy is using against U.S. forces.
DoD photo by Fred W. Baker III Hi-Res
The reason, Conlan said, was that he had worked up to walking three miles. It hurts, he said, but he can do it.
"Their rationale was if I can walk that far, I could run 100 yards in an emergency," Conlan said. "They're probably right. If somebody was shooting at me I could probably run 100 yards. It wouldn't be pretty. It wouldn't be fast, but I could probably do it."
In September 2006, Air Force officials began setting up an office in Washington, D.C., to counter improvised explosive devices, otherwise known as roadside bombs. They called Conlan and said they needed a civil engineer and asked if he would be interested.
It was a desk job, at Air Force headquarters. But Conlan knew his days in the field were over. And he would be helping the Air Force buy the right products to combat the radio-controlled bombs that the enemy is using against U.S. forces.
After talking it over with Becky, Conlan accepted. He wanted to keep others from having to endure what he had.
Conlan still has pieces of the Afghanistan landscape embedded in his nose, face and ears. Small fragments of sand and rock continue to work themselves out of his skin.
He has been called a "medical marvel." Doctors never thought he would keep his leg. They never thought he would move his foot. But, today, Conlan can lift his foot, and his leg is still there.
He can't run because his knee won't take it. Errant bone is growing in his leg -- a phenomenon common in blast victims in this war -- and grating against his bones, and osteoarthritis has set in. Eventually, Conlan will have to have his knee replaced. His foot needs realignment, but doctors can't fix that until they replace the knee.
Conlan weaves sometimes when he walks, and when he gets tired, his limp is more pronounced. He is in pain every day.
Still, he hops on his Yamaha Majesty 400 cc scooter and rides about 35 miles to work everyday. He used to ride a motorcycle, but since the blast, Becky has vetoed anything that requires a foot break. His Yamaha has all hand controls. He's put 19,000 miles on the bike since his assignment here.
In the afternoons, Conlan escapes from his desk and for physical therapy walks a couple of miles through the cavernous tunnel system of shops and restaurants below his office in the Crystal City area of Arlington, Va. He stretches and does leg lifts and other exercises in the stairwell at work. At night, he walks his dog.
Air Force Maj. Matthew Conlan walks his dog with his wife, Becky, and his son, Cameron. Life, for the most part, would appear to be normal for the family but it has been a long road of recovery after Conlan was seriously injured in Afghanistan in 2005.
DoD photo by Fred W. Baker III Hi-Res
"I was sitting there one day and I told my wife, 'Man, I've got ugly legs now.' And she's like 'Yeah, but they are your legs,'" Conlan said. "I've got wicked-cool scars."
Conlan also is active in speaking to military groups and commanders about PTSD and the signs to watch for. He hopes speaking out will help break the stigma attached with asking for help.
"I've got nothing to lose," Conlan said. "I'm very vocal about talking about it because it is a problem."
Conlan also still keeps in touch with Ramakka, who also is back on active-duty wearing a prosthetic leg and teaching at the Air Force's explosive ordnance disposal preliminary course at Lackland.
To this day, Conlan said he regrets none of his choices - his choice to serve, to deploy, to go out with the troops that day and his choice to remain on active duty. He will retire next May with his 20 years of service.
"We are returning people to duty, and life does go on and your career doesn't necessarily end," Conlan said. "Yeah, I'm going to have physical limitations for the rest of my life, but I firmly believe that my decision to go out that day was the right decision. I absolutely belonged out there with my guys.
"That's the way I choose to lead," he said.
