My feeling is that it should. When he got back from Afghanistan, first of all, he had an 11-month-old baby. His wife, who's a medic, was sent to Gagetown on a training course. Basically, three weeks after getting back from Afghanistan, he was looking after an 11-month-old child. He was dealing with the very recent death of these two guys. So he started drinking and having the nightmares right away.
They hide it. They don't necessarily wear it on their sleeve. But even when he went to work, he'd get kind of the pat on the back. They'd see his glossy eyes and they'd smell a bit of day-old booze, and they'd say, “Hey, Johnny, you know, you can't come to work like that. You have to suck it up, you know.” It was probably four months after he got back that he went and sought some help from Warrior Support, and he and his wife went to get some counselling through OSISS, because they were having marital difficulties. He was waking up at night and all this kind of stuff.
The medical treatment they get might be fine, but you're talking about a different kind of affliction or injury. Every day I was there, I sat at sick parade. Every morning there were probably 30 or 40 people going to see a doctor. I'm not doubting that they're treated well for various ailments, whether it's jumping out of a plane or cutting themselves or whatever. What I'm saying is that when it comes to this specific injury—post-traumatic stress disorder—it's misdiagnosed and characterized as something different.