DLA - Defense Logistics Agency

11/13/2024 | Press release | Distributed by Public on 11/13/2024 12:00

DLA Distribution employee overcomes tragedy with help from four-legged companion

NEW CUMBERLAND, Pa. -

Friedrich Nietzsche once famously said, "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger." Based on that criteria, Lisa Schirmer, Finance and Supply Branch Chief for Defense Logistics Agency Distribution Susquehanna, Pennsylvania, is probably stronger than most.

Lisa and her younger brother, CJ, grew up on Long Island, New York, where they enjoyed the company of one another and never ventured too far apart.

"It was just him and me growing up," Schirmer said. "He was my only sibling and we were very close."

After high school, however, the Schirmers set off in different directions. Schirmer attended college and pursued a career in finance while CJ enlisted in the U.S. Navy. Though apart, they kept in touch, calling, writing and visiting as time and conditions permitted.

CJ spent 20 years as a Navy Seabee, traveled the world, got married and fathered two children.

Schirmer remained in Long Island, doing well in her chosen career, but growing frustrated with the ever-increasing headaches of living in a suburb of America's largest city.

"I'd been working for the Department of Veterans Affairs for eight years and was tired of dealing with the stress and traffic of the city," she said. "I never really felt like I was from Long Island anyway. I always liked when I visited Pennsylvania. I liked the country and the farms and dreamed of moving there someday."

In 2015, her dream came true when she was hired as finance manager at DLA's Susquehanna Distribution Center and moved to Pennsylvania. She instantly clicked with her coworkers and found that the scenic Central Pennsylvania landscape was everything she'd hoped for. Before long, she received a promotion at work and was recognized by her peers and leaders for her talents.

For the first time, Schirmer's life seemed nearly perfect…until it wasn't.

In 2017, during a routine medical checkup, Schirmer was shocked to learn she had breast cancer, a diagnosis that set off a chain reaction of radiation treatments and surgeries that ended in a partial mastectomy.

"I was scared. Breast cancer was a 'hot spot' on Long Island," she recalled. "A lot of women were getting breast cancer in the area where I lived."

When the year-long journey finally ended, Lisa received the good news that she was cancer-free.

Sadly, her celebration was short-lived. In 2019, during a follow-up examination, she was once again told she had cancer, this time in her ureter. Already weakened by her previous cancer treatments, Schirmer would now have to undergo chemotherapy and surgery to remove ureter and a kidney, a battle, she says, that was even harder than the first.

"Chemo is devastating because it's tough on your body," she said. "Not only while you're going through it, but the aftereffects are really bad. I have neuropathy in my legs and my feet still. I've lost a lot of strength in my legs from the overall reactions from all the drugs that they're pumping into you."

To help with her physical and mental recovery, Schirmer decided it was time to fulfill her goal of living a quiet, peaceful life in the country and began searching online for opportunities to do so. It didn't take long before she found the perfect place - a 1912-built, stone farmhouse on several acres of land located a short distance from work. It seemed that Lisa was finally getting her life back on track.

But it's said bad things come in threes.

While recuperating in her new countryside home, Shirmer got a call from CJ, now retired from the Navy and back home on Long Island. He was having marital problems and asked if he could stay with her while he figured things out. "Of course," she said, looking forward to seeing her brother regardless of the circumstances.

As planned, CJ arrived at the farm at 3 p.m., stepped out of his pickup truck and greeted his sister with a hug.

"I could tell he was upset," she said, "but it was good to see him again. It was a beautiful day, so we sat on the front porch and talked for a good two hours. We had a nice conversation, but I could tell something was off. One of his hands was shaking and he didn't even realize it."

After talking for a while, she excused herself and went inside to fix some food for the two of them. She was standing at the kitchen counter when she heard CJ step off the porch and walk to his truck. Then she heard a noise that froze her in her tracks.

Schirmer was horrified to find that her brother had taken his own life.

"It was totally unexpected given the conversation we'd just had," she said recalling the events of that day. "I figured he was going to spend some time with me and get his life back on-track, but I think he already knew what he was going to do."

Suddenly, her tranquil, country home became a place of sadness and loss.

"When my brother passed away," she recalled, "I felt like I was alone in the world for the very first time. The grief was unbelievable. I didn't know how to deal with it. I didn't want to get out of bed. I wanted to fall into the ground. I didn't want to be alive anymore."

It was while she was at her lowest point that a glimmer of hope appeared in the form of a telephone call from CJ's son, Zack, checking on his aunt.

"My nephew was hurting just like me and was looking to get an emotional support dog to help deal with his depression," she said. "He suggested I get one too. I already had two cats at the time and never thought of adding a dog to the mix, but how do I say 'no' to my nephew?"

Schirmer flew to Michigan for her 55th birthday. That's when she met Buddy for the first time.

"As soon as I walked through the door," she said, "there he was. He was so cute! Zack picked me out the best puppy ever!"

After years of pain, suffering and loss, her quality of life instantly began to improve.

"Life was so rough for quite some time," she said. "When I got Buddy, I had to get out of bed. I had to take care of him. Cats you can leave alone for a little while. Dogs you can't, especially when they're a baby. So, I forced myself to do what I needed to do for him. I cried every day for the longest time, but Buddy made me laugh. He woke me up again. And he just LOVES you! And he just wants to be loved too. Puppies are so sweet. They just want to be with you."

Thanks to Buddy, Schirmers's country home no longer holds the same painful memories it once did. The two spend hours walking the property, playing fetch with sticks and creating happy memories. At night the two fall asleep side-by-side.

"He sooths me," she said. "It's the best thing ever."

Schirmer trained Buddy herself, then registered him with the state as an emotional support pet. Now her goal is to share her best friend with others in need.

"He's only 18 months right now," she said. "Once he's a little older I'd like to take him places so that he can provide emotional support to other people. Maybe nursing homes, hospitals, kids - something like that. Because he's SO good and he loves everyone.

Recalling her own chemo and cancer treatments, Schirmer remembers how she felt and how much she could have used her furry companion back then.

"I remember how it felt and what a difference Buddy has made in my life," she said. "My days wouldn't be the same without him."