My New Normal

By ENG 102 Student, Oliver Kragelund

Middle of August 2022, things are looking good. I have left the Marine Corps and transitioned back to civilian life fairly well all things considered, but I can’t shake the values it has instilled in me despite being 5 years ago at this point. I have a good job working in agriculture in a management position running a grain elevator. I’m not about to ask my crew to do a task I’m not willing or able to do myself. Lead from the front and with competency. Agriculture is still a dangerous field of work, but it’s come a long way sense my grandfather was doing it. I knew it could still be better of course things can always be safer, but we manage risk the best we can, and I am a Marine who was lucky enough to make it home, nobody here is trying to blow me up. Unbeknownst to me I would become an example of just how dangerous agriculture still can be.

I had always thought if something traumatic would happen surely it would have happened overseas while in the Marine Corps. I was okay with that, happy with it even. That is what I signed up for, that was literally the job. Go over fight struggle potentially die or become wounded. In a way I am thankful for that mindset because it was about to become incredibly useful. As in a split second the unthinkable happened and time stood still. I wish there were a more poetic way to put it but, I slipped…. I slipped and as I fell my right foot went into a piece of equipment and time stood still.

I knew…. before the pain even registered…. before I could scream for help…. Before the equipment was shut down…. Before paramedics arrived…. Before they managed to pull me out of the grain bin…. Before the helicopter ride, the hospital, or talking to the doctor. My foot was gone. Sure, it was still attached technically… but there was no saving it.

It’s a complicated series of emotions, that one experiences when losing a limb, that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. These feelings vary widely as PAM Health states in their article for tips on coping with limb loss “A person who loses a limb due to combat or an accident will experience the amputation differently than a patient who chooses surgical amputation.” (PAM). While I was lucky enough to talk to Dr. Kinsiger before surgery and told him “Just cut it off” I didn’t exactly choose it. You learn a lot about yourself and your personality. I often find myself wondering if I were a lesser man how I would cope. Sometimes I wonder if it would be better. If I were not so resilient, so independent, or so capable. Could I be more accepting of my new limitations if I had never known just how capable I am? Maybe I could accept help without so much guilt or shame. What if I were more forgiving of myself when I stumble or struggle with walking? Maybe I wouldn’t be so angry when my body can’t do what I’m asking it to do anymore. Would I still hate this piece of carbon fiber and metal that I attach to myself every morning just to be able to walk and function?

At the same time, I know that if I didn’t have this resilience, stubbornness, or pride I would not have healed as fast. I would not have pushed as hard to start walking again. I wouldn’t want to go back to work. If I didn’t know that I could do anything I doubt I would have the desire to get back to a new normal whatever that means. For every self-doubt or uncertainty there is a drive to overcome it. Sometimes that drive comes from unusual places, but you work with what you have. That frustration when I stumble… can be used to make sure the next step is steady. The shame and guilt of having to ask for help is a motivator to figure out how to not need to ask again. Finally, the anger funnily enough is used to keep working on what you need to do when you are in such a dark place you think you can’t move. Until eventually you are proud of what you overcame.

It’s a frustrating transition going from being physically capable of doing anything to struggling to walk and complete basic tasks. I still morn my life before. I was unstoppable truly. Having been incredibly athletic from as early as I can possibly remember. I relished and thrived in physical activity, sports, obstacles, 5K’s, or physical labor. I would not only succeed I would make it look easy. My time in the Marine Corps was some of the most challenging yet rewarding times of my life. Not attempting but succeeding in tasks and challenges many find nearly impossible. How so much can change in a fraction of a second still amazes me.

I am sure almost everyone has moments of self-reflection when they look at themselves and their life and wonder “What has become of me? What am I supposed to do now? Why can’t everything go back to normal?” These moments tend to happen either before major life-changing decisions, or after life-altering events and the answer is almost never straightforward or found quickly let alone accepted. It has been almost three years now and I’m still asking these questions. I’m still finding my new normal.

I have learned that I am always been finding a new normal. My life is not static or “Normal” as I put it. It is constantly changing and evolving, it’s just that most changes are accepted and processed so quickly and easily that I barely register it unless I’m looking for it. So, what is my new normal? I’m still figuring it out and if I’m lucky it will always change, and I will grow and adapt to it.

Works Cited

PAM Health. “Coping with Limb Loss: Tips and Strategies.” PAM Health, Pam Health, 31 Mar. 2025, pamhealth.com/resources/coping-with-limb-loss-tips-and-strategies/. Date accessed 22 June 2025