- Reaction score
- 290
- Points
- 980
We do not see many stories about our wounded. I hope that Cpl Klodt's determination pays off.
From the 28 September 2006 Toronto Star http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/ContentServer?pagename=thestar/Layout/Article_Type1&c=Article&cid=1159353728044&call_pageid=970599119419
Paralyzed soldier has a will to win
Faith in Afghan mission unshaken by war wound Response to grim medical prognosis: `I'll show them'
Sep. 28, 2006. 01:00 AM
DANA BORCEA
TORSTAR NEWS SERVICE
While Prime Minister Stephen Harper defended Canada's mission in Afghanistan before the UN General Assembly last week, Cpl. Christopher Klodt sat in his hospital room willing his arms to move again.
When visiting Afghan President Hamid Karzai stood in Parliament thanking Canadians for the sacrifices made for his country, Klodt struggled to pull his T-shirt on over his head by himself.
And as the bodies of four fellow soldiers recently killed in Afghanistan landed at CFB Trenton on Saturday, Klodt said that if he could, he would go back and keep fighting the war that has confined him to a wheelchair.
The 24-year-old native of Dundas, Ont., was shot in the neck during a gun battle with Afghan rebels outside Kandahar 2 1/2 months ago.
The bullet tore through his throat, crippling his esophagus and larynx, before lodging itself in his spine, paralyzing him from the shoulders down.
Doctors painted a grim picture for his family in the days after the shooting. Klodt would likely never breathe without a machine, they said. He would be fed through a tube and probably never speak again.
When his mother, Joy, delivered the prognosis to him, his response was: "I'll show them."
Sitting in his wheelchair outside Chedoke Hospital in Hamilton, Klodt recalls how far he's come since then.
Due to limited mobility in his arms, and particularly his hands, Klodt is still classified as a quadriplegic. He shrugs off the gloomy label.
"Please, I'm not going to be like this forever," he says. "I've got my right arm going now, and the left is coming."
His hands still don't work the way he wants them to, but he has taught himself to put on his clothes and hold his own food.
While still strained, his voice is clear and audible — a far cry from the barely-there whisper it was a few months ago.
Klodt, who only just started eating solid food again, has lost 40 pounds since he was shot.
The outline of the former football star's rib cage pokes out of his torso. Sometimes he can even see his own heart beating through his chest.
It has been only a couple of weeks since he started his rehabilitation, but his physiotherapist tells him he has come a long way.
"I believe it's willpower," Klodt says.
He has always been determined, but says the military taught him incredible discipline. He signed up when he was 19 years old after being laid off from a job as a car mechanic. He wanted job security but found much more than a steady paycheque in the military.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
`I'm not going to be like this forever. I've got my right arm going now, and the left is coming'
Cpl. Christopher Klodt
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He loved the challenges, both mental and physical, that training provided. His mother says that discipline has carried him far in his recovery.
"He doesn't get weary of it," she says. "He never gets tired of trying."
But his biggest accomplishment yet has been becoming a father. On Sept. 7, exactly two months after he was shot, his fiancée, Deena Schreyer, gave birth to their son, Jonathan.
He found himself sobbing tears of joy and relief in the delivery room. "It's the happiest I've ever felt," says Klodt, whose only thoughts after being shot were of getting back to Deena and their then-unborn son. He still recalls that dark day clearly.
It was late afternoon and Klodt, along with members of the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry Battle Group, were patrolling a village on the outskirts of Kandahar known as Taliban territory. The attack came from a vineyard surrounded by mud walls behind which rebel fighters were hiding.
Klodt and his fellow soldiers took up firing positions behind another wall before he was hit in the neck. He collapsed backward and went into shock.
"I didn't realize what had happened until I saw a buddy running toward me yelling, `Klodt's been hit!'"
He woke up three days later in a military hospital in Germany to find his family and Deena waiting for him. More than six months into his tour of duty, Klodt was weeks away from returning home when he was shot.
He never imagined this would happen to him but says the military trained him for combat and warned him of the risks. His support for the mission remains unshakeable.
Klodt says the villagers, policemen and teachers he met in Afghanistan told him they want Canadian soldiers to stay.
"They want their freedom," he says. "They want to have control over their own country, the way Canada does." When his mother questioned the mission, Klodt explained that Canada was not immune to the far-reaching threat of terrorists.
"You don't understand, Mom. If we don't stop them, they're coming here," he told her.
"I believe my son," Joy says now.
She said her son's courage in recovery came as no surprise.
"He's not trying to spare me, it's just the way he is," she said. "I can't tell you how many times that boy says, `You play the cards you're dealt and that's just the way it is.'"
Joy adds she still has not absorbed the full extent of what happened to her son.
"There are days when I think I'll go to sleep and wake up, and it will be over. But it's not."
From the 28 September 2006 Toronto Star http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/ContentServer?pagename=thestar/Layout/Article_Type1&c=Article&cid=1159353728044&call_pageid=970599119419
Paralyzed soldier has a will to win
Faith in Afghan mission unshaken by war wound Response to grim medical prognosis: `I'll show them'
Sep. 28, 2006. 01:00 AM
DANA BORCEA
TORSTAR NEWS SERVICE
While Prime Minister Stephen Harper defended Canada's mission in Afghanistan before the UN General Assembly last week, Cpl. Christopher Klodt sat in his hospital room willing his arms to move again.
When visiting Afghan President Hamid Karzai stood in Parliament thanking Canadians for the sacrifices made for his country, Klodt struggled to pull his T-shirt on over his head by himself.
And as the bodies of four fellow soldiers recently killed in Afghanistan landed at CFB Trenton on Saturday, Klodt said that if he could, he would go back and keep fighting the war that has confined him to a wheelchair.
The 24-year-old native of Dundas, Ont., was shot in the neck during a gun battle with Afghan rebels outside Kandahar 2 1/2 months ago.
The bullet tore through his throat, crippling his esophagus and larynx, before lodging itself in his spine, paralyzing him from the shoulders down.
Doctors painted a grim picture for his family in the days after the shooting. Klodt would likely never breathe without a machine, they said. He would be fed through a tube and probably never speak again.
When his mother, Joy, delivered the prognosis to him, his response was: "I'll show them."
Sitting in his wheelchair outside Chedoke Hospital in Hamilton, Klodt recalls how far he's come since then.
Due to limited mobility in his arms, and particularly his hands, Klodt is still classified as a quadriplegic. He shrugs off the gloomy label.
"Please, I'm not going to be like this forever," he says. "I've got my right arm going now, and the left is coming."
His hands still don't work the way he wants them to, but he has taught himself to put on his clothes and hold his own food.
While still strained, his voice is clear and audible — a far cry from the barely-there whisper it was a few months ago.
Klodt, who only just started eating solid food again, has lost 40 pounds since he was shot.
The outline of the former football star's rib cage pokes out of his torso. Sometimes he can even see his own heart beating through his chest.
It has been only a couple of weeks since he started his rehabilitation, but his physiotherapist tells him he has come a long way.
"I believe it's willpower," Klodt says.
He has always been determined, but says the military taught him incredible discipline. He signed up when he was 19 years old after being laid off from a job as a car mechanic. He wanted job security but found much more than a steady paycheque in the military.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
`I'm not going to be like this forever. I've got my right arm going now, and the left is coming'
Cpl. Christopher Klodt
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He loved the challenges, both mental and physical, that training provided. His mother says that discipline has carried him far in his recovery.
"He doesn't get weary of it," she says. "He never gets tired of trying."
But his biggest accomplishment yet has been becoming a father. On Sept. 7, exactly two months after he was shot, his fiancée, Deena Schreyer, gave birth to their son, Jonathan.
He found himself sobbing tears of joy and relief in the delivery room. "It's the happiest I've ever felt," says Klodt, whose only thoughts after being shot were of getting back to Deena and their then-unborn son. He still recalls that dark day clearly.
It was late afternoon and Klodt, along with members of the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry Battle Group, were patrolling a village on the outskirts of Kandahar known as Taliban territory. The attack came from a vineyard surrounded by mud walls behind which rebel fighters were hiding.
Klodt and his fellow soldiers took up firing positions behind another wall before he was hit in the neck. He collapsed backward and went into shock.
"I didn't realize what had happened until I saw a buddy running toward me yelling, `Klodt's been hit!'"
He woke up three days later in a military hospital in Germany to find his family and Deena waiting for him. More than six months into his tour of duty, Klodt was weeks away from returning home when he was shot.
He never imagined this would happen to him but says the military trained him for combat and warned him of the risks. His support for the mission remains unshakeable.
Klodt says the villagers, policemen and teachers he met in Afghanistan told him they want Canadian soldiers to stay.
"They want their freedom," he says. "They want to have control over their own country, the way Canada does." When his mother questioned the mission, Klodt explained that Canada was not immune to the far-reaching threat of terrorists.
"You don't understand, Mom. If we don't stop them, they're coming here," he told her.
"I believe my son," Joy says now.
She said her son's courage in recovery came as no surprise.
"He's not trying to spare me, it's just the way he is," she said. "I can't tell you how many times that boy says, `You play the cards you're dealt and that's just the way it is.'"
Joy adds she still has not absorbed the full extent of what happened to her son.
"There are days when I think I'll go to sleep and wake up, and it will be over. But it's not."
