© 2010 Jan Balthazar Garretsen. All rights Reserved.


The S.C.O.O.T. paradigm suggests utilizing an explicit psychotherapeutic approach delivered through a radically shortened venue, "S.C.O.O.T. CAMP", that systemically exposes the subject to a combination of AV and VR acute multiple sensory experiences to relive and mend trauma upon release from combat zone active duty. The processes focus on the concept of acceptance. value
of life, hopefulness and PTSD symptom vigilance.

"When I pause this time, in a quiet moment of my life, I will think of the worn and haggard faces of friends I never knew. Yet, in the aftermath, I will smile, for I have become a part of these emphatic times." Vietnam, 1969.

February 24, 2010

The "SCOOT CAMP" Process.

...it's been a helluva ten days," I thought. "I didn't think they would do that...and follow through...Jennifer and the kids are going to be there"? The smell of diesel is in the air. The transport glides through a bit of country. "Reminiscent of Baghdad," I thought. "So I stayed for the staging prep and now SCOOT CAMP...I hope it works"...and what's with the diesel...damn!" Dust is piling up on the glass."Like the transport and the last convoy." I thought." I've heard war stories about all kinds of disabilities...I have dreams, but I'm not sick!...hell!...I just want to go home!...how can they help me anyway?" The bus stops. "Oh shit!", I thought, "not again!"...loud voices break the silence. "A roadblock...damn!."
Some shouting in the distance. I strain to see out of the stained window. Others clamber out of their  seats. Some scuffling at the door. Then it opens. "Hold on to your pantyhose girls! Just an IED check" said a MP sweating under his gear."Sit down. You know the drill." He said. "Oh well, I'll be out of the shit soon." I thought. "We're almost there. Then a flight Germany and then camp." I leaned back against the window and waited.
My head banged up agaist the window. The transport was moving again. "I must have dozed  off," I hought. " No more stops please!...let's get this show on the road." I was getting impatient. "The Prep staging two days did open my eyes. I guess it'ill be good for me." I thought. I looked around. The transport was full. "Hmmm, a couple of ladies..I wonder what got them here?"

Thoughts raced. I felt excited about going home and out of the dust and heat. "No more combat gear. Hoo ra!" I tought.
There was the tarmac. The transport jolted over the speed bumps. I strained to see what was waiting there for us. "Hmm, no plane. Then, in the distance was a Continental aircraft. I wonered if that was for us.

We came to a stop. "O.K., I bet it's security" I thought.

To be continued.

1 comment:

  1. What you have wrote has opened my eyes to what my husband may be experiencing on his way home next month... I never really realized how the littlest things in civilian life can trigger memories from over seas. I mean it totally makes sense... but I guess I just never thought of it like that. To me, Afghanistan is just some third world country that my husband was sent to help or destroy... who really knows. But to my husband it's more than just a part of earth... it's a part of his life. One that I will never fully understand or be a part of. Thanks for sharing and opening my eyes! God Bless all the men and women who sacrifice more than us proud Americans will ever truly understand!


Dig in. It might save a life!