I finally have an appointment to see Dr. “Q” down at UNMH! As you may recall from my posting when my paperwork was approved for the VA to pay for my surgery, (March 8th,) it’s been awhile.
There was some VA administrative back and forth that had to go through it’s cycle, (took about two weeks,) with one of the emails sent to my doctor, (Dr. “E”,) that was one of the dumbest questions I’ve ever heard of. I’m going in to have part of my pelvis removed and my left leg amputated, and the question they sent was, “Can this be done at our facility or another VA on an outpatient basis?”
Yeah, right… And if I could walk, I’d just hop home after it was done! Of course, this IS the government health care that all those on the left are so badly wanting for all Americans.
Anyway, after they’d gotten done with all that garbage, I was told they’d contacted Dr. “Q” down at UNMH and were waiting for an appointment to be made for me to go in and see him, presumably, to find out if there are any new tests or scans he wants run and to schedule the surgery. Keep in mind that it’s been more than six weeks that I’ve been waiting for this appointment to be scheduled. How’s that for the efficiency that the government will bring to the health care system?
I told my doctor on Friday that if they hadn’t made an appointment by Wednesday, I’d call on Thursday to make my own appointment. Well, I did that and, after being transferred a couple of times to different people, got hold of Dr. “Q”’s office and it took less than five minutes to make the appointment, with the earliest opening being on May 10th, 2 ½ weeks away.
Now why it would be so hard for someone in admin to call Dr. “Q”’s office themselves and make the appointment for me is beyond me, but if I’d just done it myself rather than waiting all this time, I’d have already seen him a bit less than a month ago, and since when I saw him last time he had a surgery opening six weeks after that, the odds are good I’d be two weeks away from getting this done, (as I type this,) rather than what will probably be two more months.
“Oh, but with government run health care there won’t be long delays!” Obamacare advocates say over and over. This is one example that such claims are BS. The surgery hasn’t been necessarily urgent since they knocked the infection back with my vacomycin infusions twice a day, two and a half hours each time not counting the time taken to set up the IV’s and get me hooked up to them, which is about another ten minutes unless they have to change all the tubing, (once a week,) in which case it’s more like 20 minutes. Gee, that’s five to six hours a day lying there with the IV going, or 230 hours or so since they approved the surgery to be done at UNMH, JUST on IV infusion time.
Gotta love government efficiency, doncha?
In other news, they operated on the bedsore on my right side, (at the top of the pelvis where you can feel the “wing” of the pelvis right near the surface,) and created a larger wound, but put a “wound vac” on it and it’s healing up well, though it still has a ways to go yet.
During that surgery, (pretty minor, without even having to knock me out, and able to use just a local anesthetic,) the doctor snagged a bone sample and I’ve got some other little bug infecting my bones. This one’s called, “Proteus,” and the infection disease folks came down and told me they’ve taken me off the vacomycin and put me on something else. This one only takes a half hour to infuse, but has to be done three times a day, (which screws with any passes I get.)
The problem with this is it doesn’t address the bone infection on the other side of my pelvis and in my left thigh. As aggressive as the infection got, eating completely through the front pubic bone, which is about an inch thick and four inches long, in just seven months after I’d been sent home and there was no infection in my pelvis at all, I’m a tad concerned about it popping up with the bone munchies again.
I talked to my doctor, (Dr. “E”,) about it and he assured me that they’d keep an eye with blood tests for signs the infection was flaring up again, and if so, I’d get put back on the vacomycin again in addition to this other antibiotic, so we’ll see what happens with that. I just don’t want it eating any more of my pelvis up before the surgery to cut all that crap out of there.
Now that things are coming to a conclusion for a date on this surgery, I have to admit I am getting a wee bit nervous about the whole thing because it will probably mean some pretty big changes in how I have to/am able to do things on a day to day basis, but I’m sure the adjustments won’t be as drastic as going from being able to run 11 miles in 66 minutes with a flak jacket on to being paralyzed from the chest down, so I’m sure I’ll be able to adjust. The main thing is I don’t know, at this point, how much of my pelvis the Dr. “Q” will have to cut out, and that’s a big part of how much of a change I’ll have to adjust to.
Again, sorry for this being so intermittent, but day to day life in the VA is pretty uneventful, with the exception of getting an irritating room mate for a little while or, like today when I was sleeping, having some well meaning volunteer wake me up, (by yelling at me three times,) to ask me if I wanted some ice cream. I said “No, I want to sleep!”, where if I’d had just a moment more to come up with an answer, I would have said, “No, I want your phone number!”, and when he asked why, I’d reply, “So I can call you up in the middle of the night when you’re asleep and ask you if you want any damned ice cream!” LOL…
So… I see Dr. “Q” at UNM hospital on May 10th, and will most likely find out then when I’m going to have this big surgery.
The one thing that has come to mind with all this is that going to get a second opinion from an outside Dr., (and expert in hemipelvectomies,) was probably the smartest thing I’ve done in the 30 years I’ve had of dealing with the VA.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
It's not being "brave" or "tough", but a matter of perspective...
I opened a Facebook account after a friend of mine asked me to take a look at something on his FB page and found out that you can’t look at anyone’s FB page unless you’ve also got an account. I just put very basic information on my page, the only picture I have of myself, (my dog and I on the beach in Puerto Rico taken by a friend out there,) and after looking at his page and seeing what he’d wanted me to see, kind of forgot about it. I’d entered an email address I use for places I suspect I’ll get spam from, and rarely check, and when I did check it after it had quite a few messages in it’s inbox, found out that a bunch of people I’d known going all the way back to high school were wanting to “friend” me on there.
I’d lost touch with most of them not long after school, so even the ones who did know me when I was paralyzed didn’t know anything about the various health issues I’ve had to deal with, or the VA’s repeated screw ups that made problems worse rather than better. My starting this blog is the first most of them have heard about this stuff, and of course, right now I’m dealing with a pretty major situation.
What’s interesting is that even the people I have kept in touch with, and maybe especially since they’ve been there for all the 30 years of that wonderful government health care provided through the VA, I’ve had a good number of them tell me that they think I’m “tough”, or “brave”, and so on. The problem is that I’m really not.
I didn’t choose to have the problems I’ve had to deal with. Life’s not fair, and I was just dealt the hand I’ve got. It doesn’t take courage to deal with hardships in life that just happen to get thrown your way and make the best of whatever your situation ends up being. It just takes a certain way of looking at life, or perspective.
I don’t have to look very far to see people who are dealing with far greater difficulties than I have, or am at the moment. There are a number of quadriplegics on the ward here at the Spinal Cord Injury unit at this VA, and I’ve got good use of my hands and arms. One fellow that has become a friend is dealing with not only being paralyzed, but terminal cancer. Another, who gets on my nerves, came in for surgery on his shoulder because using your arms for everything isn’t what our shoulder’s are designed for, and it’s very common for the rotator cuff to wear out, but he was admitted four days before his surgery, and even though he’s a paraplegic and can take care of his own bowel care, (the term for digging the shit out of your body,) he just decided it’s pretty gross, and cheerfully had the aids do it for him, so I have to wonder where his self respect is, as well as be amazed at his selfishness in foisting what IS truly a disgusting task off on others, even if it is their job to do this for those who are unable to take care of that on their own.
Another fellow who only became a quadriplegic a couple of years ago has recently been discharged and is now living in a nursing home out in Arizona. (He does HIS own bowel care, even though he has very limited use of his hands and arms, as does everyone else in here who is able.) He needed people to help him smoke, since he doesn’t have the find hand and arm control needed to smoke a cigarette, and so he’d snag another patient who smokes to get the cigarette out of his pack, put it into his mouth, light it for him, and then flick the ash off every so often. I met him when I came in at the very end of 2009 for the six month stay last year that ended with the docs finally doing four surgeries on my leg to repair that bedsore that wouldn’t heal up, and can’t recall a single time he complained about his having broken his neck, (car accident,) or his limitations, but instead working as hard as he could on his rehabilitation. He can stand and walk short distances, (spinal cord injuries to the neck can be weird that way, where the arms and hands end up more disabled than one’s feet and legs,) and hopefully he’ll continue to get more return while his spinal cord continues to regenerate. (The spinal cord will try to regenerate the nerve connections for about three years before one’s recovery, assuming the cord isn’t cut, stops.)
There’s one guy who’s very bitter about his situation, even though he’s been a quadriplegic for about 17 years, and many times, takes his anger out on the people around him, even those who help him on a daily basis. He got mad at me several times because Marines have a fraternal relationship with each other than the other branches of the service don’t have, and greet each other with a “Semper Fi!” He was in the Army, and the fact we don’t give that greeting to those from the other branches just wasn’t nice, in his mind. I just told him that he’d just have to deal with it because he joined the wrong club. LOL… I have yet to meet anyone who knows what the Army motto is, if they even have one to begin with. All he does with his life is get high on pot.
Contrast that with another quadriplegic with the same level of injury who has his Master SCUBA license, and travels to various great places to scuba dive.
Years ago, I met and tried to befriend another paraplegic, (paralyzed from the waist down,) who treated his wife like crap, demanding that she wait on him hand and foot, refused to learn the skills needed to be independent, (such as driving a car,) and any time she’d get fed up with it and start to walk out on him, he’d pull a pity routine about how he couldn’t survive without her doing pretty much everything for him, and then blame her for being a very selfish person for complaining about helping him. He’d intentionally made himself helpless as a passive/aggressive method of control over her, and knew just which buttons to push to keep her around as something barely above his personal slave.
Very soon after I was injured, while I was still at the VA hospital in Long Beach, I met a paraplegic who seemed normal enough until I noticed he was missing his little toe, with a scab where his toe should have been. His injury was “complete”, meaning the spinal cord was cut, so he had no movement or sensation below his injury. He got bored one day and decided to cut his toe off… WITH FINGERNAIL CLIPPERS!!! That explained to me why he was on the psych ward of the seven spinal cord injury wards at the Long Beach VA.
I can look at any one of these guys, and thank God that He gave me parents who instilled in me a pride in my independence, a stubborn streak in my personality that makes me keep trying to figure out a way to get this or that done for myself rather than depending on others until and unless it becomes obvious that it’s physically impossible for me, and my having learned the lesson of the pity pot that I can quickly find other’s who have problems far greater than what I have to deal with, including people who are “able bodied” and don’t have the health and physical problems I deal with.
One friend, who now lives in Texas in a group home, has severe paranoid schizophrenia, and though we ended up parting ways many years ago, I saw him a couple of years back, and he’s gotten much worse than when I knew him and would get a call from him in the middle of the night because he thought “the KGB and PLO sympathizers,” were after him, and could he sleep at my place. (For some reason, he’d decided that my house was safe and they couldn’t get him there.) He’d frequently end up in the lockup psych ward at a psych hospital that used to be here in town, and I’d get a call from him every so often when he was out there, telling me he and another mental patient friend of his had escaped, and could I go pick them up. I’d go get them and just drive around for a few hours talking him and his friend into returning to the hospital, and then deliver them back to that lockup ward.
“Courage“, in my book, is when one voluntarily puts him or her self in a dangerous situation in order to protect or help others, not when one deals with the problems that life throws and them, and let’s face it, we ALL have life toss us a problem now and again. Being “tough” is being faced with some hardship life throws at you, and never letting it get to you or complaining about it, but just accepting it and continuing to move on with life, and while I try not to complain too much, I do have my moments where I get very frustrated with the way things are going and do my share of complaining, (this blog being a perfect example of that, although I also want it to serve the purpose of showing just how our government screws over veterans who’ve been injured in their service to our country.) When I’m having a bad day, I usually just find a place where I can be alone and try to get my attitude back on track.
I also believe very firmly that happiness is a choice. We’ve all heard people who have pretty much everything anyone could want complaining about how hard their lives are, (especially the Hollywood crowd these days,) and go on and on about how unhappy they are. Then you have people who have next to nothing, (or literally nothing as with one homeless fellow I knew in Puerto Rico,) who never complain about the negatives they deal with, but always focus on the positives in their life. For some reason, it seems from what I’ve seen through my life, that it’s the people who have more that complain the most about what they don’t have.
So no, I don’t see myself as either especially “brave” or “tough”. I just retreat into my privacy when I’m in a mode where I’d have to find a five gallon bucket and paint it up as a “Pity Pot”, and force people to sit there and listen to me whine. I also have the advantage of having died for some short period of time after I was shot, having met God, and having this weird, inexplicable connection with Him so that I can feel when I am acting in a way that he approves, or behaving in a manner that disappoints, and a great many times when I have a need that gets filled in very unusual ways; so many in fact, that I can not doubt that, for whatever reason, God likes me and watches out for and takes care of me to the point where I don’t worry about many of the issues most people will start to worry about because I KNOW that He will not let me fall, (or at least fall very hard,) if I just relax and do my part in trying to live my life right and trust that He will ALWAYS be there for me, and that over and over and over in my life, I’ve seen how hardships I’ve had to endure end up providing a much greater good for either myself or others than any of the bad I may be dealing with at the moment.
As I said, it’s a matter of perspective, and as I said, I look at my life and situation, and I don’t have to look very far at all to find someone where I can say with all sincerity and gratitude, “There but for the Grace of God go I.”
I’d lost touch with most of them not long after school, so even the ones who did know me when I was paralyzed didn’t know anything about the various health issues I’ve had to deal with, or the VA’s repeated screw ups that made problems worse rather than better. My starting this blog is the first most of them have heard about this stuff, and of course, right now I’m dealing with a pretty major situation.
What’s interesting is that even the people I have kept in touch with, and maybe especially since they’ve been there for all the 30 years of that wonderful government health care provided through the VA, I’ve had a good number of them tell me that they think I’m “tough”, or “brave”, and so on. The problem is that I’m really not.
I didn’t choose to have the problems I’ve had to deal with. Life’s not fair, and I was just dealt the hand I’ve got. It doesn’t take courage to deal with hardships in life that just happen to get thrown your way and make the best of whatever your situation ends up being. It just takes a certain way of looking at life, or perspective.
I don’t have to look very far to see people who are dealing with far greater difficulties than I have, or am at the moment. There are a number of quadriplegics on the ward here at the Spinal Cord Injury unit at this VA, and I’ve got good use of my hands and arms. One fellow that has become a friend is dealing with not only being paralyzed, but terminal cancer. Another, who gets on my nerves, came in for surgery on his shoulder because using your arms for everything isn’t what our shoulder’s are designed for, and it’s very common for the rotator cuff to wear out, but he was admitted four days before his surgery, and even though he’s a paraplegic and can take care of his own bowel care, (the term for digging the shit out of your body,) he just decided it’s pretty gross, and cheerfully had the aids do it for him, so I have to wonder where his self respect is, as well as be amazed at his selfishness in foisting what IS truly a disgusting task off on others, even if it is their job to do this for those who are unable to take care of that on their own.
Another fellow who only became a quadriplegic a couple of years ago has recently been discharged and is now living in a nursing home out in Arizona. (He does HIS own bowel care, even though he has very limited use of his hands and arms, as does everyone else in here who is able.) He needed people to help him smoke, since he doesn’t have the find hand and arm control needed to smoke a cigarette, and so he’d snag another patient who smokes to get the cigarette out of his pack, put it into his mouth, light it for him, and then flick the ash off every so often. I met him when I came in at the very end of 2009 for the six month stay last year that ended with the docs finally doing four surgeries on my leg to repair that bedsore that wouldn’t heal up, and can’t recall a single time he complained about his having broken his neck, (car accident,) or his limitations, but instead working as hard as he could on his rehabilitation. He can stand and walk short distances, (spinal cord injuries to the neck can be weird that way, where the arms and hands end up more disabled than one’s feet and legs,) and hopefully he’ll continue to get more return while his spinal cord continues to regenerate. (The spinal cord will try to regenerate the nerve connections for about three years before one’s recovery, assuming the cord isn’t cut, stops.)
There’s one guy who’s very bitter about his situation, even though he’s been a quadriplegic for about 17 years, and many times, takes his anger out on the people around him, even those who help him on a daily basis. He got mad at me several times because Marines have a fraternal relationship with each other than the other branches of the service don’t have, and greet each other with a “Semper Fi!” He was in the Army, and the fact we don’t give that greeting to those from the other branches just wasn’t nice, in his mind. I just told him that he’d just have to deal with it because he joined the wrong club. LOL… I have yet to meet anyone who knows what the Army motto is, if they even have one to begin with. All he does with his life is get high on pot.
Contrast that with another quadriplegic with the same level of injury who has his Master SCUBA license, and travels to various great places to scuba dive.
Years ago, I met and tried to befriend another paraplegic, (paralyzed from the waist down,) who treated his wife like crap, demanding that she wait on him hand and foot, refused to learn the skills needed to be independent, (such as driving a car,) and any time she’d get fed up with it and start to walk out on him, he’d pull a pity routine about how he couldn’t survive without her doing pretty much everything for him, and then blame her for being a very selfish person for complaining about helping him. He’d intentionally made himself helpless as a passive/aggressive method of control over her, and knew just which buttons to push to keep her around as something barely above his personal slave.
Very soon after I was injured, while I was still at the VA hospital in Long Beach, I met a paraplegic who seemed normal enough until I noticed he was missing his little toe, with a scab where his toe should have been. His injury was “complete”, meaning the spinal cord was cut, so he had no movement or sensation below his injury. He got bored one day and decided to cut his toe off… WITH FINGERNAIL CLIPPERS!!! That explained to me why he was on the psych ward of the seven spinal cord injury wards at the Long Beach VA.
I can look at any one of these guys, and thank God that He gave me parents who instilled in me a pride in my independence, a stubborn streak in my personality that makes me keep trying to figure out a way to get this or that done for myself rather than depending on others until and unless it becomes obvious that it’s physically impossible for me, and my having learned the lesson of the pity pot that I can quickly find other’s who have problems far greater than what I have to deal with, including people who are “able bodied” and don’t have the health and physical problems I deal with.
One friend, who now lives in Texas in a group home, has severe paranoid schizophrenia, and though we ended up parting ways many years ago, I saw him a couple of years back, and he’s gotten much worse than when I knew him and would get a call from him in the middle of the night because he thought “the KGB and PLO sympathizers,” were after him, and could he sleep at my place. (For some reason, he’d decided that my house was safe and they couldn’t get him there.) He’d frequently end up in the lockup psych ward at a psych hospital that used to be here in town, and I’d get a call from him every so often when he was out there, telling me he and another mental patient friend of his had escaped, and could I go pick them up. I’d go get them and just drive around for a few hours talking him and his friend into returning to the hospital, and then deliver them back to that lockup ward.
“Courage“, in my book, is when one voluntarily puts him or her self in a dangerous situation in order to protect or help others, not when one deals with the problems that life throws and them, and let’s face it, we ALL have life toss us a problem now and again. Being “tough” is being faced with some hardship life throws at you, and never letting it get to you or complaining about it, but just accepting it and continuing to move on with life, and while I try not to complain too much, I do have my moments where I get very frustrated with the way things are going and do my share of complaining, (this blog being a perfect example of that, although I also want it to serve the purpose of showing just how our government screws over veterans who’ve been injured in their service to our country.) When I’m having a bad day, I usually just find a place where I can be alone and try to get my attitude back on track.
I also believe very firmly that happiness is a choice. We’ve all heard people who have pretty much everything anyone could want complaining about how hard their lives are, (especially the Hollywood crowd these days,) and go on and on about how unhappy they are. Then you have people who have next to nothing, (or literally nothing as with one homeless fellow I knew in Puerto Rico,) who never complain about the negatives they deal with, but always focus on the positives in their life. For some reason, it seems from what I’ve seen through my life, that it’s the people who have more that complain the most about what they don’t have.
So no, I don’t see myself as either especially “brave” or “tough”. I just retreat into my privacy when I’m in a mode where I’d have to find a five gallon bucket and paint it up as a “Pity Pot”, and force people to sit there and listen to me whine. I also have the advantage of having died for some short period of time after I was shot, having met God, and having this weird, inexplicable connection with Him so that I can feel when I am acting in a way that he approves, or behaving in a manner that disappoints, and a great many times when I have a need that gets filled in very unusual ways; so many in fact, that I can not doubt that, for whatever reason, God likes me and watches out for and takes care of me to the point where I don’t worry about many of the issues most people will start to worry about because I KNOW that He will not let me fall, (or at least fall very hard,) if I just relax and do my part in trying to live my life right and trust that He will ALWAYS be there for me, and that over and over and over in my life, I’ve seen how hardships I’ve had to endure end up providing a much greater good for either myself or others than any of the bad I may be dealing with at the moment.
As I said, it’s a matter of perspective, and as I said, I look at my life and situation, and I don’t have to look very far at all to find someone where I can say with all sincerity and gratitude, “There but for the Grace of God go I.”
Friday, April 8, 2011
4-8-11 update and just a bunch of blathering because I'm kinda high!
Sorry for the long delay in posting an update on my health situation, (for the last three weeks or so, my allergies have been kicking in REAL bad,) but here it is…
The VA has approved paying for the surgery down at UNM Hospital, and I’m just waiting for the paperwork to wiggle it’s way through the all the government red tape when they’ll make an appointment for me to see Dr. “Q” again. I’m assuming at that point he’ll schedule the surgery and tell the VA if he needs newer pictures and scans before doing the surgery.
One funny thing is the automatic messages that get sent back and forth is one that came from the paper pushers here at the VA where they asked if this surgery, (cutting out part of my left pelvis and amputating my left leg,) could be done as day surgery. LOL…
If my Dr, (“E”,) hasn’t heard anything by Monday, he’s going to give a call upstairs and see if he can’t get this process moving. I’ll be staying on the IV antibiotics until a week or so before the surgery, when they’ll stop it so when they do the surgery and send the various samples to the lab, they’ll see what little buggies are in there. Then, Dr. “Q”, (the UNMH ortho surgeon,) said I shouldn’t have to stay at UNMH for more than two or three days before I come back here to the VA to heal up and then start learning how to do things without my left leg attached, (like avoiding falling into the toilet when I go to the bathroom.)
When I went in to see Dr. “Q” for the consult, he said he had a surgical opening for about six weeks out, (mid-April at that time,) and hopefully the wait will be no more, and maybe even less, than that to get this done.
In other news, I had a small bedsore at the top of my right pelvic crest, and a couple days ago, had surgery on that to cut out all the necrotic tissue, and basically, the plastic surgeon, (who previously refused to operate on me because I’d never heal because I’d had radiation treatments,) turned a 2cm X 4cm hole with 2 cm of undermining into a 4cm X 6cm hole with 5cm of undermining that’s been bleeding through the dressings, (I’m on blood thinners,) and messing up my pajama bottoms. They’ll be putting a “wound-vac” on it on Monday which will take care of that problem.
What a “wound-vac” is is a getup where they put this sponge like material into the wound, then cover it with plastic with a small hole cut in it, and what looks kind of like a suction cup with a nipple on it goes over that hole. It creates suction which helps suck the wound closed, draws off excess fluids, and increases the blood flow to the wound to promote healing.
It’s a nice little device, but a pain in the ass since you have to carry around the machine itself, which is about the size of a skinny toaster, and get the hose all arranged properly so it doesn’t get tangled up in the wheels on the chair. I saw the wound today when they changed the dressings and it’s kind of disgusting if you’re squeamish, but it’s all nice red meat in there now rather than the white/grey stuff that was the dead tissue. Hopefully, that will help heal this bedsore up in spite of the terrible mattresses, (called a “Dolphin” mattress,) that we’ve got. I’ve got a much better mattress at home that has 24 horizontal cells down the length of the mattress, and it deflates one out of each three cells alternately so that every four minutes, (the way I have it set up at home,) any area that has pressure on it changes, and no part has pressure on it for more than eight minutes before the pressure is relieved and fresh blood can flow into that part of my body again.
I got this bedsore on my right side after we had a power outage at my apartment one night, (a drunk driver had hit a power pole somewhere down the line,) and I ended up lying on a wire for several hours without knowing it. I was healing it at home just fine by packing the bedsore with what’s called “Aquacil”, (which is like felt when it’s dry, but turns into jelly when as it soaks up fluids coming from the wound,) with just a dressing over that. When I got in here, they decided to switch my treatment out for using a thin strip of gauze soaked in “Dakin’s solution”, (just saline with 5% bleach,) and then covering that with a dressing bandage.
Well, the wound got worse because it was constantly soaked, and the bedsore ended up all macerated, (basically the same thing that happens with trench foot,) and died. Then I talked the into going back to dry dressing, and they started using this tape that was very stiff when dry and packing that into the wound and then covering THAT with a dressing. That helped with the maceration, but irritated the inside of the wound and made the undermining, (where the hole is larger beneath the skin that at the surface,) worse. THEN after several more weeks, I got them to go back to using the aquacil, and… amazingly enough… even with these sucky mattresses, the wound was healing once again instead of getting worse.
That’s when the plastic surgeon, (Dr. “R”, who’d previously been adamant that I’d never heal from ANY surgery because I’d had radiation treatments 27 years ago,) decided that the best way to treat the bedsore was to debride it, and that’s when he turned a small hole with just a bit of undermining into bigger hole with more undermining. Until Monday, they’re just packing it with gauze and covering it with these pads that are like diapers in how much fluid they’ll absorb before becoming saturated and leaking through. So far, I’ve had two pair of my pajama bottoms end up with blood all over them, so the bleeding from the wound hasn’t settle down yet. (Again, I’m on blood thinners.)
What’s the logic behind all this stuff? It’s the VA, and they are entirely inconsistent in just about everything they do, but apparently Dr. “Q” gave these doctors a piece of his mind, (Dr. “E” said when he talked to Dr. “Q”, the latter told him he was impressed with me, I guess because I went in with good questions for him about the procedure, and a good knowledge of the problems I’m dealing with and what needs to be done to fix them,) because all the doctors who were dead set against my having any surgical repairs at all on these problems have had a total attitude change towards me. They’re no longer acting like I’m just some dumb schmuck who doesn’t know what he’s talking about to listening to me and, in the case of the plastic surgeon, deciding that cutting holes in me was the best way to fix this bedsore.
The downside of this surgery I had is that where the wound wasn’t hitting any areas where I can feel much, (my sensation is patchy from the chest down,) it hurts quite a bit, so right now I’m on my max doses of morphine and oxymoron’s and STILL haven’t been able to sleep more than a few hours since the surgery. Past experience with the wound-vac tells me that once they put that on, the pain will go down quite a bit.
Anyway, that’s where things stand right now. I’ve now had 13 surgeries over the past 30 years, (this one was minor, the rest major,) and the partial hemipelvectomy will be #14. And why??? ALL because way back when I was first injured, it took them 6 years to finally do the proper tests that revealed there was a bone chip that had been knocked loose inside my spinal canal when the bullet hit the vertebra. And THEN, after having lost all the movement I’d regained starting within the first week of my injury after being put on military transport planes to fly me to different hospitals with that bone chip in there, (now I have a TINY bit of movement in my left foot, but nothing useful,) they refused to cut the tendons in my legs, (too DRASTIC they said,) when they were dislocating my hips and knees until after they’d destroyed my left hip socket and they had to cut the ball off the femur and leave it permanently dislocated, which ended up with the femur pulling up and creating an area vulnerable to pressure so when I rolled onto my left hip in my sleep, it created that bedsore that wouldn’t heal and then it took the VA more than six years to actually do surgery to fix THAT, (and then only after the infection went septic and they HAD to operate instead of just sending me home like they wanted to.) And of course, amputating my left leg was, again, too drastic, and so when Dr. “W”, head of ortho operated, he missed some of the infection, and it got into my pelvis like I’d wanted to have the leg amputated to avoid, and so here we are!
Ain’t government health care just WONDERFUL! Dr. “Q”, the ortho surgeon down at UNMH, is the FIRST surgeon I’ve dealt with who has the same philosophy as I do, which is to not play tiddlywinks with is kind of stuff, but do what will eventually need to be done anyway BEFORE not doing it causes major damage and requires much MORE drastic surgeries than if they’d just done what I’d asked them to do in the first place. Of course, he’s a civilian doctor, so that explains the difference in attitudes, but going to him for an independent second opinion is probably the smartest move I’ve made in the 30 years that I’ve been dealing with the bullshit I get from doctor’s at the VA.
The thing is that there’s basically two types of doctor’s in the VA system. There are the ones that are very, VERY good, but forego the higher pay they could get in private practice because they truly care about giving veterans the best care they can give, and very, VERY bad ones who couldn’t survive in private practice because they’d get sued out of existence for malpractice.
On a final note, when I was first injured, you couldn’t sue the VA for malpractice. I found out about a month ago that now, you CAN sue, and depending on how much of my pelvis Dr. “Q” ends up having to take out, and how that affects my daily living, I’m seriously considering suing the VA over this screwup where they refused to amputate my leg to prevent the infection from getting into my pelvis. There’s a two year window to file a lawsuit, so I have about 14 more months to decide whether to do that or not. Suing people has always been something distasteful to me, but in this case, if Dr. “Q” has to take out more of my pelvis than I think he will, and my quality of life is seriously affected because of having to have part of my pelvis taken out, I’m strongly considering it.
The thing is that when suing the VA, a jury trial isn’t possible, and instead it goes in front of a federal judge, who tend to give smaller awards for damages, but on the plus side, the cases don’t go through years and years of appeals before any award is given. One fellow in the hospital, (who likes to hang around the Spinal Cord Injury ward for some reason,) had a small black sore appear on his leg one day, and when he came in to see a doctor about it and was told it was nothing and was sent home. It got worse, and all the doctor’s did was to put dressings on it and send him back home. It turned out to be a staph infection, and by the time they were done blowing him off, he had to have his left leg amputated just below the knee. The VA offered him a $40,000 settlement, which he refused, (he was in good health all around before this,) and is now suing for a couple of million plus. He probably won’t get the full amount, but the odds are very high that he’ll get far more than the original settlement offer.
One thing that’s in my corner on that is that the patient advocate here at the hospital just happens to be a member of the same Marine Corps League chapter I’m a member of, (he was a Navy Corpsman during Vietnam,) and has been following my misadventures with the VA from the beginning of last year’s garbage where they wanted to discharge me with an active infection that, had I been at home when it went septic, would have ended up killing me because I wouldn’t have recognized the symptoms until it was too late. So… he’s familiar with this whole thing and can guide me through the process, though if I do file a suit against the VA, once I put in the initial paperwork, he’s out of the loop entirely and it becomes a fight between my lawyers and the VA’s lawyers.
He gave me a business card from his lawyers and they don’t charge a dime unless they win the case, and then take the 30% or so as their fee. Suing the VA for malpractice is ALL these guys do, and they have their own team of medical experts to tell them if a case is winnable or not, but I won’t end up stuck with big legal fees just to get the process started if I go that route.
Again, sorry for the delay on this update, but besides things being in a sort of limbo for awhile, and nothing really new to report until a few days ago when the VA approved the payment to UNMH for this surgery, I’ve had a horrendous time for the past several weeks with allergies from one of the trees putting out record amounts of pollen and I had not only the runny nose and sinus congestion, but really bad chest congestion as well, and besides not feeling good, between that and the energy this infection sucks out of me, I had NO energy to do much of anything. They even had me on oxygen whenever I was in bed, (most of the time,) and getting regular nebulizer treatments to try to open up the passages in my lungs. My oxygen saturation, which is normally around 95% dropped to 80% and sometimes even lower.
So, except for the delays due to government red tape, things are still clicking along my way, and if things go as well as possible, after this surgery, I’ll be able to get off all the narcotic drugs I’m on for spasms and pain now, and see if I can’t get the FAA to approve my medical again and get my pilot’s license renewed. If THAT happens, once I get my debts paid off and trade my car in for a truck, (I have a new wheelchair with power assist wheels that’s too heavy to haul into the car, so I’m going to get a Ford F-150 4X4 truck with the extended cab and the VA will put in a lift that picks the chair up and puts it behind the seat,) then I start saving up to buy myself a Cessna 177 Cardinal airplane. If it doesn’t, and it’s kind of a longshot, then once everything’s paid off and I’ve got my truck, I’ll be saving up to build a house.
If I get a 177 Cardinal with long range tanks, (or have them installed if they’re not already there,) then it has enough range for me to be able to fly from Florida to Puerto Rico to visit my step daughter and friends I’ve got out there whenever I want, and NOT have to go through the feel-up pat-downs you have to go through when you fly commercial these days. Then I can get back to traveling here and there when the mood strikes me, and won’t have to have a lineman take apart and stow my wheelchair in the baggage compartment of the Cessna 172’s like I always did before when I was having so much fun flying here and there to visit friends. (The 172 has a short door and wing strut that won’t allow it to open past about 45 degrees, while the 177, besides being a bit of a higher performance plane, has a door that’s about four feet long and no wing strut so the door will open up to about 80 degrees, which will allow me to put the wheelchair in behind the seat like I do with my car.)
With the way everything's been suddenly clicking my way on all this stuff, I'm really hoping for a very positive outcome on this surgery, and a return to an active lifestyle like I was able to enjoy before I got that stupid bedsore that the doctor's, both out in Puerto Rico and here, just didn't want to treat. One thing I'm sure of is that all the prayers that have gone up for me from y'all have helped turn this situation around, so please keep 'em coming! :-)
The VA has approved paying for the surgery down at UNM Hospital, and I’m just waiting for the paperwork to wiggle it’s way through the all the government red tape when they’ll make an appointment for me to see Dr. “Q” again. I’m assuming at that point he’ll schedule the surgery and tell the VA if he needs newer pictures and scans before doing the surgery.
One funny thing is the automatic messages that get sent back and forth is one that came from the paper pushers here at the VA where they asked if this surgery, (cutting out part of my left pelvis and amputating my left leg,) could be done as day surgery. LOL…
If my Dr, (“E”,) hasn’t heard anything by Monday, he’s going to give a call upstairs and see if he can’t get this process moving. I’ll be staying on the IV antibiotics until a week or so before the surgery, when they’ll stop it so when they do the surgery and send the various samples to the lab, they’ll see what little buggies are in there. Then, Dr. “Q”, (the UNMH ortho surgeon,) said I shouldn’t have to stay at UNMH for more than two or three days before I come back here to the VA to heal up and then start learning how to do things without my left leg attached, (like avoiding falling into the toilet when I go to the bathroom.)
When I went in to see Dr. “Q” for the consult, he said he had a surgical opening for about six weeks out, (mid-April at that time,) and hopefully the wait will be no more, and maybe even less, than that to get this done.
In other news, I had a small bedsore at the top of my right pelvic crest, and a couple days ago, had surgery on that to cut out all the necrotic tissue, and basically, the plastic surgeon, (who previously refused to operate on me because I’d never heal because I’d had radiation treatments,) turned a 2cm X 4cm hole with 2 cm of undermining into a 4cm X 6cm hole with 5cm of undermining that’s been bleeding through the dressings, (I’m on blood thinners,) and messing up my pajama bottoms. They’ll be putting a “wound-vac” on it on Monday which will take care of that problem.
What a “wound-vac” is is a getup where they put this sponge like material into the wound, then cover it with plastic with a small hole cut in it, and what looks kind of like a suction cup with a nipple on it goes over that hole. It creates suction which helps suck the wound closed, draws off excess fluids, and increases the blood flow to the wound to promote healing.
It’s a nice little device, but a pain in the ass since you have to carry around the machine itself, which is about the size of a skinny toaster, and get the hose all arranged properly so it doesn’t get tangled up in the wheels on the chair. I saw the wound today when they changed the dressings and it’s kind of disgusting if you’re squeamish, but it’s all nice red meat in there now rather than the white/grey stuff that was the dead tissue. Hopefully, that will help heal this bedsore up in spite of the terrible mattresses, (called a “Dolphin” mattress,) that we’ve got. I’ve got a much better mattress at home that has 24 horizontal cells down the length of the mattress, and it deflates one out of each three cells alternately so that every four minutes, (the way I have it set up at home,) any area that has pressure on it changes, and no part has pressure on it for more than eight minutes before the pressure is relieved and fresh blood can flow into that part of my body again.
I got this bedsore on my right side after we had a power outage at my apartment one night, (a drunk driver had hit a power pole somewhere down the line,) and I ended up lying on a wire for several hours without knowing it. I was healing it at home just fine by packing the bedsore with what’s called “Aquacil”, (which is like felt when it’s dry, but turns into jelly when as it soaks up fluids coming from the wound,) with just a dressing over that. When I got in here, they decided to switch my treatment out for using a thin strip of gauze soaked in “Dakin’s solution”, (just saline with 5% bleach,) and then covering that with a dressing bandage.
Well, the wound got worse because it was constantly soaked, and the bedsore ended up all macerated, (basically the same thing that happens with trench foot,) and died. Then I talked the into going back to dry dressing, and they started using this tape that was very stiff when dry and packing that into the wound and then covering THAT with a dressing. That helped with the maceration, but irritated the inside of the wound and made the undermining, (where the hole is larger beneath the skin that at the surface,) worse. THEN after several more weeks, I got them to go back to using the aquacil, and… amazingly enough… even with these sucky mattresses, the wound was healing once again instead of getting worse.
That’s when the plastic surgeon, (Dr. “R”, who’d previously been adamant that I’d never heal from ANY surgery because I’d had radiation treatments 27 years ago,) decided that the best way to treat the bedsore was to debride it, and that’s when he turned a small hole with just a bit of undermining into bigger hole with more undermining. Until Monday, they’re just packing it with gauze and covering it with these pads that are like diapers in how much fluid they’ll absorb before becoming saturated and leaking through. So far, I’ve had two pair of my pajama bottoms end up with blood all over them, so the bleeding from the wound hasn’t settle down yet. (Again, I’m on blood thinners.)
What’s the logic behind all this stuff? It’s the VA, and they are entirely inconsistent in just about everything they do, but apparently Dr. “Q” gave these doctors a piece of his mind, (Dr. “E” said when he talked to Dr. “Q”, the latter told him he was impressed with me, I guess because I went in with good questions for him about the procedure, and a good knowledge of the problems I’m dealing with and what needs to be done to fix them,) because all the doctors who were dead set against my having any surgical repairs at all on these problems have had a total attitude change towards me. They’re no longer acting like I’m just some dumb schmuck who doesn’t know what he’s talking about to listening to me and, in the case of the plastic surgeon, deciding that cutting holes in me was the best way to fix this bedsore.
The downside of this surgery I had is that where the wound wasn’t hitting any areas where I can feel much, (my sensation is patchy from the chest down,) it hurts quite a bit, so right now I’m on my max doses of morphine and oxymoron’s and STILL haven’t been able to sleep more than a few hours since the surgery. Past experience with the wound-vac tells me that once they put that on, the pain will go down quite a bit.
Anyway, that’s where things stand right now. I’ve now had 13 surgeries over the past 30 years, (this one was minor, the rest major,) and the partial hemipelvectomy will be #14. And why??? ALL because way back when I was first injured, it took them 6 years to finally do the proper tests that revealed there was a bone chip that had been knocked loose inside my spinal canal when the bullet hit the vertebra. And THEN, after having lost all the movement I’d regained starting within the first week of my injury after being put on military transport planes to fly me to different hospitals with that bone chip in there, (now I have a TINY bit of movement in my left foot, but nothing useful,) they refused to cut the tendons in my legs, (too DRASTIC they said,) when they were dislocating my hips and knees until after they’d destroyed my left hip socket and they had to cut the ball off the femur and leave it permanently dislocated, which ended up with the femur pulling up and creating an area vulnerable to pressure so when I rolled onto my left hip in my sleep, it created that bedsore that wouldn’t heal and then it took the VA more than six years to actually do surgery to fix THAT, (and then only after the infection went septic and they HAD to operate instead of just sending me home like they wanted to.) And of course, amputating my left leg was, again, too drastic, and so when Dr. “W”, head of ortho operated, he missed some of the infection, and it got into my pelvis like I’d wanted to have the leg amputated to avoid, and so here we are!
Ain’t government health care just WONDERFUL! Dr. “Q”, the ortho surgeon down at UNMH, is the FIRST surgeon I’ve dealt with who has the same philosophy as I do, which is to not play tiddlywinks with is kind of stuff, but do what will eventually need to be done anyway BEFORE not doing it causes major damage and requires much MORE drastic surgeries than if they’d just done what I’d asked them to do in the first place. Of course, he’s a civilian doctor, so that explains the difference in attitudes, but going to him for an independent second opinion is probably the smartest move I’ve made in the 30 years that I’ve been dealing with the bullshit I get from doctor’s at the VA.
The thing is that there’s basically two types of doctor’s in the VA system. There are the ones that are very, VERY good, but forego the higher pay they could get in private practice because they truly care about giving veterans the best care they can give, and very, VERY bad ones who couldn’t survive in private practice because they’d get sued out of existence for malpractice.
On a final note, when I was first injured, you couldn’t sue the VA for malpractice. I found out about a month ago that now, you CAN sue, and depending on how much of my pelvis Dr. “Q” ends up having to take out, and how that affects my daily living, I’m seriously considering suing the VA over this screwup where they refused to amputate my leg to prevent the infection from getting into my pelvis. There’s a two year window to file a lawsuit, so I have about 14 more months to decide whether to do that or not. Suing people has always been something distasteful to me, but in this case, if Dr. “Q” has to take out more of my pelvis than I think he will, and my quality of life is seriously affected because of having to have part of my pelvis taken out, I’m strongly considering it.
The thing is that when suing the VA, a jury trial isn’t possible, and instead it goes in front of a federal judge, who tend to give smaller awards for damages, but on the plus side, the cases don’t go through years and years of appeals before any award is given. One fellow in the hospital, (who likes to hang around the Spinal Cord Injury ward for some reason,) had a small black sore appear on his leg one day, and when he came in to see a doctor about it and was told it was nothing and was sent home. It got worse, and all the doctor’s did was to put dressings on it and send him back home. It turned out to be a staph infection, and by the time they were done blowing him off, he had to have his left leg amputated just below the knee. The VA offered him a $40,000 settlement, which he refused, (he was in good health all around before this,) and is now suing for a couple of million plus. He probably won’t get the full amount, but the odds are very high that he’ll get far more than the original settlement offer.
One thing that’s in my corner on that is that the patient advocate here at the hospital just happens to be a member of the same Marine Corps League chapter I’m a member of, (he was a Navy Corpsman during Vietnam,) and has been following my misadventures with the VA from the beginning of last year’s garbage where they wanted to discharge me with an active infection that, had I been at home when it went septic, would have ended up killing me because I wouldn’t have recognized the symptoms until it was too late. So… he’s familiar with this whole thing and can guide me through the process, though if I do file a suit against the VA, once I put in the initial paperwork, he’s out of the loop entirely and it becomes a fight between my lawyers and the VA’s lawyers.
He gave me a business card from his lawyers and they don’t charge a dime unless they win the case, and then take the 30% or so as their fee. Suing the VA for malpractice is ALL these guys do, and they have their own team of medical experts to tell them if a case is winnable or not, but I won’t end up stuck with big legal fees just to get the process started if I go that route.
Again, sorry for the delay on this update, but besides things being in a sort of limbo for awhile, and nothing really new to report until a few days ago when the VA approved the payment to UNMH for this surgery, I’ve had a horrendous time for the past several weeks with allergies from one of the trees putting out record amounts of pollen and I had not only the runny nose and sinus congestion, but really bad chest congestion as well, and besides not feeling good, between that and the energy this infection sucks out of me, I had NO energy to do much of anything. They even had me on oxygen whenever I was in bed, (most of the time,) and getting regular nebulizer treatments to try to open up the passages in my lungs. My oxygen saturation, which is normally around 95% dropped to 80% and sometimes even lower.
So, except for the delays due to government red tape, things are still clicking along my way, and if things go as well as possible, after this surgery, I’ll be able to get off all the narcotic drugs I’m on for spasms and pain now, and see if I can’t get the FAA to approve my medical again and get my pilot’s license renewed. If THAT happens, once I get my debts paid off and trade my car in for a truck, (I have a new wheelchair with power assist wheels that’s too heavy to haul into the car, so I’m going to get a Ford F-150 4X4 truck with the extended cab and the VA will put in a lift that picks the chair up and puts it behind the seat,) then I start saving up to buy myself a Cessna 177 Cardinal airplane. If it doesn’t, and it’s kind of a longshot, then once everything’s paid off and I’ve got my truck, I’ll be saving up to build a house.
If I get a 177 Cardinal with long range tanks, (or have them installed if they’re not already there,) then it has enough range for me to be able to fly from Florida to Puerto Rico to visit my step daughter and friends I’ve got out there whenever I want, and NOT have to go through the feel-up pat-downs you have to go through when you fly commercial these days. Then I can get back to traveling here and there when the mood strikes me, and won’t have to have a lineman take apart and stow my wheelchair in the baggage compartment of the Cessna 172’s like I always did before when I was having so much fun flying here and there to visit friends. (The 172 has a short door and wing strut that won’t allow it to open past about 45 degrees, while the 177, besides being a bit of a higher performance plane, has a door that’s about four feet long and no wing strut so the door will open up to about 80 degrees, which will allow me to put the wheelchair in behind the seat like I do with my car.)
With the way everything's been suddenly clicking my way on all this stuff, I'm really hoping for a very positive outcome on this surgery, and a return to an active lifestyle like I was able to enjoy before I got that stupid bedsore that the doctor's, both out in Puerto Rico and here, just didn't want to treat. One thing I'm sure of is that all the prayers that have gone up for me from y'all have helped turn this situation around, so please keep 'em coming! :-)
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