​By Lauren Winebrenner
Tuesday, December 24, 2019

It is rare to meet a person who truly resembles not just a hero, but a warrior in mind, body and spirit.
Carla Sabrina Rose Locklear is a proud Native American Air Force Veteran from Lumberton, North Carolina. Her family has a long history of service, including her great-grandfather Papa Frank who served during World War I. Carla always knew she would join the military and served as a medic from 1997 to 2002.
“I would have friends that would ask me why I would serve this government, or establishment that had done damage to my people,” said Carla. “And I would respond with ‘my ancestors have always protected this land, and we always will.’”
While stationed at Laughlin Air Force Base outside Del Rio, Texas she worked in the medical clinic treating active duty service members and Veterans. In 2001, she started noticing that she would contract the same illness or infections of the patients she was treating.
After numerous doctors’ visits and exhaustive testing she was diagnosed with an extremely rare immunodeficiency disorder called Hypogammaglobulinemia. This essentially means that her body cannot make antibodies that fight infections or bacteria.
“The best example I can give as an Air Force Veteran is that when you have an autoimmune disease, your body is an airplane on autopilot,” she said. “When you have an immunodeficiency such as this, there’s no autopilot, there’s no fuel in the plane and you haven’t even left the hangar!”
Carla was in her 20s when she received this diagnosis and remembers thinking it was “absurd.”
“I was young and wasn’t fully comprehending what the different doctors were telling me,” she said. “I already had a plan, I wasn’t sure why they said I would have to retire and live next to a VA hospital for the rest of my life.”
After getting out of the Air Force, Carla started working as a civilian on the air base. Over the years, her symptoms and ailments became worse. One of the hardest things for Carla to accept was how people around her had changed. People knew her when she was well-bodied, capable and not sickly. It was hard for those around her seeing her sick or needing help.
It was hard to watch herself go through that transition, too.
“I realized I was going to be one of those Veterans that needed care,” said Carla. “I had assumptions of what a caregiver should look like. I never asked anyone if they wanted to take that on. That’s a conversation that I, and all Veterans, should have with their loved ones.”
It turned out the immediate family “caregivers” she thought she had in Texas didn’t want the job.
It reached a point where she was exhausting herself to keep everything together including working full time as much as she could, fighting with insurance companies, driving hours to get needed infusion treatments (when she could afford them) and taking care of her young son.
“Being a Veteran, you tend to just suck it up and push through stuff. It was hard for me to reach out to ask for help. I didn’t tell my family what was going on.”
Due to insurance issues Carla would go a few months without the infusion treatments she desperately needed. A normal human will replace their antibodies every month. With Carla not having those precious antibodies from the infusions, she found herself getting infections almost constantly and requiring her to be hospitalized. At the same time, she didn’t have a steady caregiver or support system.
“In many ways in Texas I gave up. I accepted this as a ‘new normal’. I made end of life plans, even reaching out to friends to tell them things to say to my son about me.”
Carla was bravely facing decisions about end of life planning with such a degree of certainty, that her extended family became aware and concerned. When she was asking her elders about the family burial plots, word eventually reached her aunt and uncle, René Locklear White and Chris (Comeswithclouds) White, living in Bluemont, Virginia.
“Our family was a military family, and being in the military myself, I never got to spend a lot of physical time together with Carla,” said René White, Lt. Col. (RET.) U.S. Air Force. “But I was always there for her in spirit.”
Over the years, social media had made it easier for them to keep in touch, but Carla wasn’t being authentic or forthcoming with how severe her illness was.
“Sometimes when a person is trying to be strong, because they don’t want anyone else to carry that weight… it prevents others from being able to care – or in this case prevents me from being able to be me,” said René. “Carla is very much a person that can isolate herself, and I am the kind of person that will keep checking in.”
Slowly, walls started to come down and Carla would message her Aunt more frequently and would share more details about her illness or even send pictures of things she was doing that day.
At this point, Carla had already moved out of the home she built and into a rental in Del Rio, Texas, yet she still didn’t feel like she was healing. She had accepted this as her fate, her new normal and was barely hanging on.
When she reflects on this dark time, she says “shame on me for giving up so easily.”
René expressed that her husband and her had gone through a period of transition after the military as well. “We did a self-inventory and were led down this spiritual path to find our own vision statement and purpose.”
René and Chris had founded their own Native American church and had reached a place in their lives where they found a clear vision for how to help others. They saw Carla’s suffering as a responsibility and an opportunity to help her find a new path and asked themselves how they could be a part of that journey.
The answer presented itself in a unique way and helped bridge the physical gap between Carla and her aunt and uncle.
“Coincidentally, which - there’s no coincidence - my job had temporary orders for me in San Antonio,” said René. “I requested leave to drive to del Rio to visit Carla, and Chris met me there as well.”
René knew how stubborn Carla was, so before she even went to Texas, she formulated a plan and did her research.
“I get my care from the Stephens City Community Based Outpatient Clinic – and I wondered if the Martinsburg VA Medical Center (VAMC) would have the services Carla would need to get well.”
René decided she was physically going to drive to the medical center and ask different services or departments if they could help take care of her niece. She made a list of the specialties Carla needed to help manage her illness such as IV/IG infusion clinic, wound care, neurology, infectious disease and others.

After being helped at the Information Desk, she walked to the different departments. Not only was she asking “IF” the Martinsburg VAMC has these services, but “HOW” Carla could get connected. Everywhere she went, another box was being checked. She was essentially putting together a resource guide that could help Carla make a life-changing, and potentially life-saving, decision.
With all the boxes checked, René felt like she could go to Texas prepared. “I felt like I was on a rescue mission,” she said.
She brought the list with her to Texas and began convincing Carla to come visit and try to get second opinions. They sat down and went through all the information together – and Carla herself started making phone calls to the medical center.
“I couldn’t believe it – she found a VA hospital in West Virginia, 30 minutes from her home that has all the things I need – and they would help me. It blew my mind because here I was picking out the colors of my coffin.”
With René naturally assuming the role of caregiver, and already doing the work of advocating for her patient and loved one – it made Carla feel like there was hope, and that things could go a different way.
They discussed her moving to Bluemont, staying with her aunt and uncle and just taking it one day at a time.
It’s not an exaggeration to say Carla left everything behind to move to Virginia to find healing. She left her young son, her job, her house, her rental, her car, her clothing…all her personal possessions. She showed up to René and Chris’s house on Dec. 7, 2018 with her wheelchair and a backpack. Her Uncle Chris had to carry her up the stairs. They told her “we are in this together.”
Even though she didn’t arrive with any physical baggage, the emotional baggage was overwhelming and there were a lot of decisions to be made. René and Chris had an innovative idea to help her navigate those choices.
“We do this thing in our family called storyboarding. We take one of those boards that you get for kids’ science projects, they fold and stand on the table… and we take these different concepts and we help the person lay it all out.”
By using this storyboard approach, they were able to prioritize what had to be decided immediately and what could wait. It helped Carla feel supported and not alone in the decision-making process, which was a new feeling for her.
This process also led Carla to find her personal vision statement.
“To be on a healing journey, on a healing mountain and search for a cure”
Once she spoke those words aloud, it changed the energy in her entire body and her new perspective became about healing and living. It became her “new normal.”
“It really resonated because I was in this desert in Texas where nothing was growing or thriving in my life, and I came to this mountain that was alive…it was alive with hope and gave me hope.”
Carla immediately started coming to the Martinsburg VAMC and Stephens City CBOC for treatment. They adjusted her infusion cycle, so she would get antibodies more frequently. She was no longer driving hours alone to get treatment either; her Uncle Chris always accompanies her to the appointments.
“The whole team here has just been fantastic from the moment we step off the elevator. The admin team even sings my name every time they see me walking down the hall. It just turns your whole energy around so you can accept the treatment and the healing.”
She especially appreciates how she meets face-to-face with the clinical oncology pharmacist who mixes her infusions, Douglas Smith, Pharm. D., BCOP. “He always asks me how I am doing and what side effects I’m experiencing.”
Some of the other care team members Carla specifically wanted to mention were:

• Dr. Mamatha Prabhakar
• Dr. Barbara Feshami
• AnnMarie Michel, RN
• Bridget Bonham, RN
• Norice White
• Sherri Williams

As Carla continued her treatment at the Martinsburg VAMC, she also had some appointments at the Washington D.C. VA Medical Center. One day while she was in the city, she decided to call the National Institutes of Health (NIH). She thought they also might be able to help her or help others in the future.
She was able to make the right connections and get enough information to enroll into a program that would help research hypogammaglobulinemia. In October of 2019, she went to NIH to start a series of appointments and tests.
“Hopefully that’s one step closer to helping others. Can something in my DNA contribute to a cure or treatment for someone else with an immune deficiency? That would be wonderful.”
The care team at NIH also collaborates with the physicians at Martinsburg to make recommendations in her treatment plan.
Carla is on a healing journey now and working toward her goal of finding a cure, but she wouldn’t have been able to be on that new path without the help of her caregivers.
“If I could tell a Veteran anything, it’s that you will need a caregiver. Especially depending on how complicated your medical conditions might be. Don’t do what I did and wait until the 11th hour.”
The caregiving model has traditionally looked like a spouse or immediate family member, but it doesn’t have to fit that mold. A caregiver could be anyone.
Carla’s son, now 9 years old, moved in with her over the summer and has been learning some basic and very important caregiving techniques.
“We showed him how to do simple things like make coffee or bring her ice for her headaches and it’s made it less scary for him because he’s engaged in the process and he knows what to do,” said René.
As indigenous people, Carla and her family have some unique perspectives on life, family and sickness.
“We believe that most illness starts with the spirit – it invades the mind, and then manifests itself physically,” said Chris. “When Carla came, we talked to her about the spiritual aspect of her care and verbalizing positive language into existence.”
They also worked together to look at Carla has a whole person – mind, body and spirit – and really think about a holistic approach to wellness which is very much aligned with the VA’s approach to Whole Health.
“It is a totally different way of thinking – from where I was in southwest Texas exactly one year ago, the way I was thinking about my life and future – to how I am thinking about it today.”
Seeing Carla one year after she left everything behind to come to the “healing mountain” you probably wouldn’t be able to tell she is sick. That is a positive thing – but it is also one trait of the illness that the whole family had to learn and accept. One day she could be using a wheelchair and struggling and the next day she is running outside in the backyard.
It’s not predictable and at times it is very tough for Carla, but she fights on and continues to live her vision statement: “To be on a healing journey, on a healing mountain and search for a cure”
She has something now that she didn’t have before: a healthy spirit, positive mindset, loving caregivers and a committed care team.
Carla is a warrior in mind, body and spirit and the Martinsburg VAMC is proud to be a part of her tribe.
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