I am a pilot for the united states airforce and have been for almost five years now. I had always had a fascination with planes, significantly when I was growing up. I followed my dream and became an airforce pilot shortly after graduating from high school and since then have not looked back. I enjoy flying; it is a freeing feeling being eleven thousand feet in the air. I fly recon missions primary, but a few action missions as well, which are nerve-racking, to say the least, but having my wingmen on my side helps enormously. One day as we were going about our regular recon over the operation area, we took fire.
I still remember that day as if it were yesterday; it was one of the scariest experiences I’ve had while flying. The day was like any other, clear blue skies with puffy white clouds dotting the atmosphere here and there. The next thing I remember, I see a massive fireball to my left. My wingman and a close friend were just shot down by an anti-air missile. I knew I was next. I had to shake that thought. I dumped my flares and began taking evasive maneuvers as rifle fire pecked the bottom of my plane. The next thing I know, the missile lock alarm is blaring. I did not have enough time to react, only a few seconds, I shot my final volley of flares, but it was not in time. We took a hit to the nose of the plane. All the electronics were freaking out, along with my copilot. I had to get us close to the ground as fast as possible. I put the plane into a full dive to the ground and pulled up with only a few hundred feet separating us from the earth. We pulled our ejector seats, and it was at this time I realized I had a piece of shrapnel in my stomach.
Following this incident, I was rushed to the army hospital, where they assessed me. After deciding to remove the shrapnel, the doctor was able to get a better look. He told me I would need to have emergency surgery to stop the bleeding and had to get a colostomy as my colon was shredded to pieces like string cheese.
Obviously, after hearing this, anyone would be devastated as I was. I knew what a colostomy bag was, and I had buddies with them. I feared my chances of being a pilot were out the window but was relieved when the doctor told me I could resume my flying with a benefit. I did not ever have to worry about holding my bowel movements as I was flying. This put a smile on my face, and a bit of a chuckle came out. When I got back to work after some physical therapy, I came to find out my doctor was right; it is nice carrying a bathroom with me in a tiny plane.
My life as a pilot has been changed because of my accident, but I am relieved I can still fly, and I am alive today. It is an odd feeling doing the maneuvers we do and feeling the liquid in my bag moving around, kind of gross, honestly, but I will get used to it in time. Because of my efforts in saving my copilots’ life, i got a medal of honor. I am not too proud of that medal as it reminds me of one of the worst days of my life.