Hello, my name is Brandon Kett. It is an honour to speak to you today in this committee and to create a sense of validation for those of us who have been struggling and suffering in the darkness. In no way will I be able to articulate my story of the struggles and hardships that my family and I have had to endure over the last 10 years, but in these 10 minutes, I'm going to try to paint a suitable picture.
I'm a 14-year veteran of the Canadian Armed Forces. I was a proud member of the Forces, and I always did my best. I strived to be an example to all the troops I trained over the years as a mentor to them. I never really wanted to go to war, but when my country called, I jumped at the opportunity, in 2006. A member of my deploying squadron was unable to deploy, so I filled that gap. I was thrown into the journey of a lifetime. I was proud to be deploying and representing my country, Canada.
In my mind, I was ready, but you're never truly ready to be deployed to such a hostile environment as Afghanistan. I won't really be going into the details of my overseas experiences today, due to the lack of time, but I'll submit my long-form testimony, afterwards.
That being said, that's not the reason I am speaking before you today. The issue I have come here for is mefloquine. When we were given this pill overseas, the risk of a possible lifelong illness that can come from taking this medication was not explained to us. There were the known aspects of the dreams that people talked about. They joked and called them “loopy pills” or “Wacky Wednesdays”. I can now look back and see the devastating effect that this medication had on my overseas work performance and personal accountability, and the downward spiral I've gone through since returning home.
The depression started to set in for me over there. It started with vivid nightmares, distracting confusion, lack of motivation, and the decline in my work performance. I sucked it up, I soldiered on, and I finished my tour.
When I came home, I met a girl, and with great difficulty we started a relationship and a family. Over the years, it's been a mess. Coming home, I was a shell of the person I once was. I had depression, anxiety, and anger, and I was easily brought to the point of agitation. I remember I'd see my kid's toys in the middle of the floor in my house, and I'd want to boot them across the floor and punch holes in the walls over nothing. I was confused, and I never really figured out what was wrong. The PTSD diagnosis I received was easy for me to accept, because my life and mentality was a roller coaster ride. I even remember saying to my ex how I felt that I was a different person when I came back.
Before long, things started to come apart for me, fast. I was drinking a lot, I became severely depressed, I had anxiety all the time, and it was really bad. I was reckless and not thinking about my future.
I heard a story when I was at base Gagetown of how another soldier had killed himself by hanging from the stairs in the basement, so I took some paracord to the basement one day while my ex had the kids out shopping. I tied a rope to the stairs and around my neck. I never hung myself, but that was enough for me. I broke down, and I knew I needed help. My desire to have a stable family life was disintegrating before my eyes. Like a house that been engulfed by fire, I just had to watch it burn from the side, never having the mental ability to do anything about it. I never had a chance because of that pill.
I ended up having three kids with that girl. The relationship was not working, but to fill the void that I felt inside myself, I kept having them and hoping one day I'd level out, but that day never came.
My struggles were internalized, mostly, and I became very isolated and alone inside my own head. I fell into a gaming addiction, and anything else I could use for escapism. I dealt with it the soldier's way: suck it up and carry on.
I learned about Dr. Nevin and his work by researching my symptoms online that didn't really match up to PTSD. Almost every symptom I had was exactly matching to a T for mefloquine intoxication, and it led to many informative sites that detailed how the medication can cause PTSD-like symptoms. At this point, I was going into medical sick parade in the army daily, and my chain of command was trying to come after me and make an example out of me for fighting back.
My so-called regimental family was gone. I felt betrayed. My chain of command painted me with a black mark, and everyone was told to keep their distance. I was labelled a troublemaker for fighting against the chain of command.
For the benefit of my mental sanity.... I lost my kids. I was in financial distress. I lost my house. I was in a dark, isolated depression that lasted, and I have never recovered. I was begging for help because I was suffering every single day. I was hitting the very worst of my suffering up to that point.
My kids were moved back to Ontario after my marriage failed. I lost my house, all my possessions practically. I was renting a room from someone in a basement, sleeping on a mattress on the floor, because I was in such a sad state of financial hardship, with child support and paying for my own medications. I could not even afford to take a trip to go see my kids. Even if I had been able to, the isolating effect had set in and I was not able to plan and execute that trip.
I started receiving PTSD treatment while serving in the Canadian Armed Forces in Gagetown in 2011. My marriage had reached the point, since 2007, of desperation. I was seeking help for that, but it quickly shifted to me and my PTSD.
I started therapy with a psychologist. I was taking SSRI medications for depression and had regular medical appointments each week. The DND medical system was not set up to treat me. The pharmaceutical cut-and-paste treatment was ineffective for my condition. I stayed in the system a long time. I did not want to end my career in the Forces at such a young age, facing medical release.
I worked and I pushed myself to try to get better, but I never really did. I had a hard time remembering my appointments, or if I had taken my medications, or taking anything away from the medical treatment I was receiving, because I was being treated for PTSD, and it wasn't having an effect on me.
We would sit and talk about the trauma that I witnessed and experienced in Afghanistan, and there was an array of pills, but no improvement was made. I was switched to 13 different types of cognitive-altering medications in a span of six months. This was the thinking of my medical team on how to treat the issue.
I had suicidal ideation. I would often talk of the ideas that my broken mind would show me like a movie in my head each day, on repeat. The isolation I underwent when my children were taken away from me made me disconnect from life. I was feeling failed by my medical team, because I had brought mefloquine and Dr. Nevin's work to them. I have not had proper medical treatment for two years.
I released May 3 of this year, and I was put on a list of 500 awaiting a doctor. My chain of command did not even open my file when I was transferred to know that I was operating with PTSD. They came after me instead of helping.
I was hit with disciplinary actions and charges for being an administrative burden because of my inability to manage my financial life. My post-VAC lump sum award ended up hurting me in the end, which still persists to this day. I cannot stabilize mentally because I have financial hardship. My three little girls were and still are my driving factor. I never quit, or even considered that final option.
Then I fell away from the medical system. I stopped attending my appointments. I was getting into trouble. I was in complete mental breakdown, and sinking deep. Nobody was there to help me.
Then I found cannabis. I had never really smoked it much in my life, a few times here and there, but something was different when I smoked it. I was able to feel again. That was a scary thing, because I had to process and deal with a lot of the negative emotions that came to the surface.
Things got a little more manageable for me with the use of cannabis. I was feeling more alive, not coming to anger as quickly, and having better results than with any of the other things I had tried before. It was still really hard, but it was a crutch to help me along my way, which I was forced to pay for out of my out pocket in 2013...my release in May of this year...because DND would not accept it as a treatment medication.
I was open with medical staff. They just wanted to categorize my use and equate it to that of an alcoholic. I just waited out my time, like a prison sentence, and kept my head down. Almost two years of waiting and watching my kids grow up on Skype, living that hellish existence in purgatory.
I attempted to be posted to the JPSU, thinking I would be able to get help there. I've been always looking to the next thing or place where I could finally be stable. I'm self-destructive, and I can't keep it straight.
I've never really given up, and I work every day to manage my life. I was finally allowed to use my voc rehab and get back in my kids' lives in the last six months.
I knew inside I was not going to be able to go to school, but I believed things would be easier when I got back into their life in Ontario. It was not as easy as it sounded. The two years away from my children was enough to ruin our already fragile connection. The guilt of the way I am in relationships haunts me. Over the last years and a bit, I've been tackling an uphill battle to regain some of what I lost.
I'm going to skip ahead, because we're out of time.
In closing, I hope the committee hears the voices of the people speaking here this week and uses the right due diligence to remedy this tragedy of lives, relationships, and families in ruin. Sometimes I think if I had been able to solve this back in the 1990s, I'd not be sitting here in front of you today.
I hope to redeem my faith in Canada and have a positive ending to add to this story, with a world-class outreach program with treatment, research, and help to those suffering. Canada needs to stop issuing this poison to its soldiers and to the public. We need to stay up-to-date with the science that comes out and the newest best information. The story has many gaps and has many more details in the DND system, negligence of my chain of command, and many other facets and obstacles I had to endure. I hope this is just the start of a dialogue and I'll be able to submit my long version in great detail in the future. Help us, because we are suffering.
Thanks for taking the time to listen to my story. I hope steps to give aid are made with a sense of urgency.
Thank you.