Tuesday's Promise: One Veteran, One Dog, and Their Bold Quest to Change Lives
By: Luis Carlos Montalvan, Ellis Henican / Narrated By: Kevin Free
Length: 8 hrs and 49 mins
Wounds, invisible wounds, love that saves, love that cannot save. This book is perfect to honor the Fallen on Memorial Day…
I know, I know, I know: I pretty much SWORE I would NOT be reviewing Tuesday’s Promise because re-listening to Until Tuesday danged near had me in tears, knowing author Montalvan and Tuesday’s fates.
It happened like this, see. I just saw “sequel to Until Tuesday” and, though I was disheartened that Luis Carlos Montalvan wasn’t the narrator, I snapped this one right up. I was thrilled that I didn’t even have to glance through a Publisher’s Summary as I find them so misleading at times.
So I listened to the whole danged audiobook, got all caught up in it, started thinking that this wonderful, hopeful world Montalvan was heading into might involve even more audiobooks. Imagine, then, my oh so horrific surprise when the end of the book had an afterword saying—no spoilers here, it’s all over Wikipedia and the news—that Montalvan committed suicide, and in a little city where he’d had so many positive experiences. That afterword kinda made EVERYthing sooo much more tragic.
Here’s what it is before suicide: Montalvan, after suffering injuries and traumatic brain injury while serving, also has to deal with despair and PTSD. Suicide is oh so an option for him, but he accepts a service dog into his life. They bond like craaaaazy, Montalvan writes a book about how Tuesday absolutely changed his life, and then he goes on speaking tours. They’re not just to promote the book as he takes on a leadership role, speaking for wounded warriors who suffer more PTSD than physical injuries. And he heads into frays with bureaucracies galore in efforts to assist the many, many individuals who were touched by his story and who’ve sought him out.
The book is about advocacy for veterans’ rights and for better care and management. There are oodles of visits to VA hospitals around the country he and Tuesday visit, both to speak with veterans and to receive prescribed meds (And during one visit, he suffers a truly awful experience fraught with misunderstanding and physical violence—piling on top of him even though he’s obviously a veteran with disabilities). There are trips to libraries and schools, and there’s the sad tale of famed Chesty Puller’s son. Montalvan takes it all on, even as he lives through agonizing pain and migraine headaches.
The book then launches into a turning point where Montalvan chooses to amputate his leg in an effort to mitigate the increasing pain and the devolving state of his wounded leg. This brings both joy and relief and less pain, but it also brings phantom pain, then pain from where his stump fits into his prosthetic leg. Later, and I found this from Googling him, he has to travel to Australia for a specific surgery re: his physical state, all on his own as Tuesday couldn’t go. And that had me wondering:
Was the physical pain too much? He writes of it early on, when he has such hopes with his new “bionic” leg, that the pain where it fits to the stump is like walking when you’ve stepped on a splinter: Not too bad but bad enough to make you wince and to make your gait unsteady. Was that too constant? Or did it all get worse?
Plus, he was still dealing with his PTSD, something that’ll never go away. Was that too constant? Or did it all get worse?
Whatever the case, the ending’s the same. Tuesday, after the suicide, is living with Lu Picard, the woman who trained him, living without the partner he so loved, living without the person he was so bonded too. And the afterword tells us that Montalvan, in an unfortunate twist of fate, will be the one waiting for Tuesday at the Rainbow Bridge (Montalvan writes of the Bridge when he contemplates Tuesday’s getting older, and his eventual demise—lemme tell you, I cried when I listened to THAT).
This whole Listen had me heartsick for the care veterans are NOT getting, the opportunities for good lives that are NOT offered to them. And narrator Kevin Free presents it very well, making us feel the outrage, making us feel the openness to challenges. Making us feel the hope…
…Making Luis Carlos Montalvan a living, breathing, dedicated person once again, struggling, fighting the good fight, Tuesday ever at his side.
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