It takes a lot for me to admit that I am wrong about something. In all fairness, I don't get much practice! Ask my husband. Growing up I thought that my mama exaggerated and overreacted about everything! If the laundry wasn't down to the laundry room every day then we would be overrun in dirty underwear and we would never have clean clothes to wear. If we threw extra junk food in the cart at the grocery store, we were literally going to go broke with the extra expense. If the dishes weren't cleared and washed immediatley after dinner then the bugs would take over the house and we would end up in something similar to an epsiode of hoarders. Of course all of these seem like outlandishly extreme statements, but now I completley get where she was coming from. I thought she was exaggerating. Turns out, she was right.
When I was a kid, I was convinced that my parents had kids so that they wouldn't have to do dishes or laundry anymore. In fact, I have even joked with Eric about looking forward to the day we could kick back and let the girls do the chores. It will be easy living in a few years. The girls can do all the laundry, and clean the kitchen while Eric and I sit back with a glass of wine and watch the grass grow. I thought thats what my parents did. Maybe...... just maybe..... maybe they deserved that quiet grass watching, wine drinking time. If their days were anything like my days maybe they deserve another bottle of wine.
The girls love to ask for stuff at the grocery store, now they are at the age where they throw stuff in the cart when I'm not looking. The stuff they want isn't always the most expensive stuff in the store, but goodness gracious it adds up fast! Growing up, I thought my mom was completley unreasonable. How in the world would a $2 lunchable, or a $3 pack of cookies bankrupt us? Now, my eyes have been opened into the world of adulthood, and motherhood. Food is freaking expensive!!! I thought my mother was trying to poison me by making me eat GENERIC foods. The thought of any peanut butter other than Peter Pan or Jiffy was horrifying. What in the world was the woman trying to do to us? Generic foods, I wouldn't touch them. Now my cabinets are stocked full of Great Value foods, and you know what I've learned as I've gotten wiser---- it tastes the same. Some food is definitley better when you get the name brand stuff... but now i'm a cheapskate and only buy it if it's on sale. Almost everything we get is generic. My younger self would be horrified. My kids will probably be horrified in about 10 years, after all--- they are just like me.
Turns out mom was also right about the laundry. Missing even 1 day of laundry in this house is disaster. How in the world do 4 people produce so much dirty laundry? I thought it was bad when the girls were babies and clothes would get covered in poop or spit up. Those were miniature clothes. Now they are almost full size people, who change clothes over and over and over again. I even locked their closet to keep the outfit changes to a minimum, but they still figure a way to make more laundry. I don't know how keeping clothes on for 30 minutes at a time makes an outfit dirty, but even when I go behind them to try hang a dress back up instead of putting it in the wash... I find out that even in a brief period of time, they have managed to get something crusted on it. Sometimes I decide that I have done enough laundry, and will take a day off. Then I usually pay for that stupid decision for a week! How does it pile up like that? Now I understand why mom would flip out if laundry wasn't done daily. We won't even discuss folding and putting laundry away. My mom was way better at that than I am. I will not confirm or deny the fact that laundry will sit on my couch for days waiting to be folded or put away. I will also not confirm or deny the fact that there are baskets full of clean clothes folded at the end of our bed because putting it away is such a miserable task. Mom was right. Laundry has to be done and put away daily.
If the food isn't done and dishes aren't put away right after dinner we will be overrun with bugs! This is another thing I thought my mom was out of control with. Surely dishes could sit in the sink and "soak" overnight while we watched TV or went outside to play with our friends. This was before the days of DVR.... if something was coming on TV that we wanted to watch, we had to watch it right then! We couldn't record it for later... unless we had a VHS tape handy. Lets be honest, we never wanted to record over what we had previously recorded so really we had to watch whatever was coming on right when it started. Dishes weren't a priority. As I have become wiser, I have learned that as soon as there is 1 dish left in the sink, the sink becomes a magnet for all of the dishes in the house. Even if the dishwasher is empty and ready to be run.... the dishes will end up in the sink for days. I think mama eyes are the only kind of eyes that can see a sink full of dishes though. I'm not sure that daddy eyes see full sinks, and kid eyes definitley don't see full sinks. Mamas may not have xray vision, but they have sink vision. A rare abililty to see a sink full of dishes despite an empty dishwasher less than 3 feet away. (Sink vision is also similar to trash vision. I think only mamas can see a full or overflowing trashcan.)
Every day I find myself becoming more and more like my mama. I say things and then cringe, because I can remember being told the exact same thing. Then I look at my daughters face, and I know exactly what she is thinking as she huffs and groans and grunts and stomps out of a room. She is just like me. I shouldn't be surprised when she backtalks me, or refuses to do what I tell her to do the first 50 times I tell her.... because she is just like me, and she probably has tuned me out until the 51st time I tell her. I know the moves she makes before she makes them, and yet somehow I have still become the overreacting, exaggerating mom. Then I call my mom to tell her these stories, and I know she is smiling on the other end of the phone. She has waited 28 years to hear that she was right. She knows what I'm going to say before she answers the phone because she had 3 girls herself. She laughs and laughs. 1 of my girls is just like me. Just like me in every single way. Heaven help me. 1 is just like my husband. Just like him in every single way. I've only been married to him for 5 years... I'm still trying to figure out how to handle him, now I have him and his mini him. Double trouble!
Who knew that my mom would have been right......
Who knew that I would admit it!
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Sunday, May 19, 2013
I'm Back!
If you have read my blog before, you may have noticed that I haven't written anything in a few months, and I have also removed my previous blogs. No worries, I'll repost them soon enough. I suppose I have some explaining to do. Heads up, it's going to be a long one. If you don't want to read it, go ahead and stop now. It's going to probably be full of emotional word vomit, and I might say some harsh words, I might also be able to control myself and it will come across very well thought out. We will see what happens.
So--- where have I been? Where are my blogs?
I have been around, being a wife, being a mom, living life in a nuthouse as usual. I have also been involved in a very craptastic lawsuit. So lets talk about that. I've heard a lot of chit chat and I have tried to answer questions as they come to me--- but at the same time, I've tried to avoid questions until just the last couple days. I had almost gone into hiding and was only talking to a very few people. I had removed all my blogs because everything I do was being examined. Now it's over... so i'll say what I have to say.
Lets get into the back story. Pancreatitis. Standard of care. Emergency Rooms. Target.
Here are the details of the history.
On Thursday January 13, 2011 Addison learned how to reach the water dispenser on the freezer. I will never forget it. I was feeding Emmalyn and I looked over my shoulder into the kitchen when I heard that deep belly giggle coming from Addison. She was standing in a swimming pool of refrigerator water. I couldn't jump up immediatley, but I was able to get her away from the water in the kitchen. I finished feeding Emmalyn and went into the kitchen so Addison could show me her new trick. We laughed, we splashed and then we talked about what a huge mess she had made. It was so hard to get mad at her. She was so proud of her skill (probably a skill that would come in handy for a busy mom later on!) I put Emmalyn down in the bouncy seat and she fell asleep. Addison and I walked back to the bathroom to get some towels and then all of a sudden I was hit with the worst pain. It knocked me to the floor. I was holding on to the counter and trying to hold myself up, until I couldn't anymore. The pain grabbed hold of me, and I couldn't breathe. This was something I had felt before. A few times. Usually it passed after about 45 minutes. We had been told I was having anxiety attacks, brought on by hormones from pregnancy. Sounded resonable. I didn't think I was depressed, or anxious, but I'm not a doctor- I figured they were smarter than I was. After a little while the pain didn't let up. I started to hear Emmalyn cry in the living room and Addison was still standing over me waiting for me to jump up with towels to go mop up the pool in the kitchen. Luckily I had my cell phone on me, and luckily it was time for Eric to get off work. I called him and told him to get home. Fast. So he came home, and I stayed sick. I started throwing up, for hours and hours and hours. The pain stayed at a high intense level. I couldn't take it anymore so Eric called his mom to come over to watch the girls so I could go to the ER. By the time she got there, I was already in the car blowing the horn. I just wanted some relief and I wanted to get to the hospital. By this time it had been nearly 4 hours and there is just no way to explain this type of pain to you. I puked my guts up out the window all the way to the hospital. Eric let me off at the front door, and I staggered inside. I didn't make it far. I threw up all over the lobby of the ER and then I fell in it. They took me straight back to a triage room, turned off the light and left me there. and left me there. and left me there. I couldn't throw up anymore. I was dry heaving, rolling on the bed, and hysterical. I thought I was having another "panic attack" but at the same time, I was terrified. I hadn't ever felt this way before. Finally, Eric opened the door to the triage room and stood there until a nurse came by. He asked her how long it was going to be before I could be seen. Her answer:7 hours. WHAT!?! If I am going to hurt, I'm going to hurt in my own bed, and throw up in my own toilet and pace my own halls. I wasn't going to lay around and be miserable and uncomfortable and not be seen. I was there for help. I wasn't getting it.
I didn't sleep at all that night. Not a bit. I was in and out of the hot shower. HOT. So hot I think I was burning myself. Burning the absolute crap out of my back was so much better than the intense pain I was feeling in my abdomen and into my back. We walked outside to try to get fresh air and help me to breathe, and I rolled around on the bed.
Friday January 14, 2011.
Eric had to get up and go to work. I was still wide awake and in no condition to keep an eye on the girls, so he took the girls to family so I could try to rest and get over whatever was going on.
I tried and I tried to calm down, relax, breathe but the pain was horrendous. 10/10. Worst pain in the world. I've given birth to 2 large children. One of which, they had to turn the epidural off completley and I delivered her 8 lb 14 oz body without drugs. I know pain. This was off the charts worse. Give me drugless childbirth any day of the week. I called Eric and told him that I could not deal with the pain anymore. He had to get me back to the hospital. I knew this wasn't anxiety, I wasn't sure what it was, but this was not a panic attack as I had originally thought the night before. Eric was on a call, and unable to get to me. He said that I needed to call 911 and get to the hospital. I hung up with him and it was probably about 9:00 am, and I called 911 and the ambulance and firemen were in my house within minutes. I do give them lots of credit for showing up quickly. They tried to slow my breathing down so I could calm down, but the pain was just way too bad. So they took me to Wilson Medical Center, and I was back in the Emergency Room. They must have been so busy, because the EMTs left me in the hallway right outside the nurses station. The EMTs reported to the triage nurse that I was having severe abdominal pain, nausea, vomitting, my pulse was high, my respirations were high. I told the nurse, that I was there because I was having the worst abdominal pain, and it was into my back. I told the doctor that I was having the worst abdominal pain, nausea and I had been vomitting for over 15 hours. She pushed on my belly, I hollered. I was hysterical. The pain was unbearable, I was exhausted because I had slept, and I was dehydrated from hours and hours of throwing up. The doctor ordered some medicines, and a nurse was able to get an IV. They gave me a couple bags of fluids, some toradol for the pain, zofran for nausea and a GI cocktail to help with whatever was happening from all the vomitting. I had enough pain relief and nausea relief that I was able to fall asleep in the hallway for a little bit. When I woke up my husband was sitting by the bed with me, and the nurse was back to tell me I was being discharged. The doctor whizzed by--- I don't know whether she pushed my stomach then or not. She came by, told me it was a panic attack and I needed to drink fluids and relax. I told her that this was NOT a panic attack. This was the WORST pain I had ever felt in my life and I begged her to do something. Do anything. Don't send me home. Then I was being discharged at 11:55 am. I hollered and cried and was a hysterical mess. I was in so much pain, and I didn't think anyone believed me. Nobody drew any blood, nobody ran any labs, nobody even acted like they cared that I was in pain. Significant pain. Eric got mad at me for causing a scene in the Emergency Room. I didn't care. I know everyone heard me, and everyone proved that they were not interested in me or my pain at all. They wanted me out.
Eric took me home and I tried to rest, drink fluids, and relax. I never slept.
Saturday Jan. 15-
Pain continues, no relief, lots of hot hot showers, lots of walking up and down the driveway, lots of crying and lots of rolling in the bed. Got a fever, thought "Damn what shitty luck that I would get a fever while I'm dealing with a panic attack..... the ER was full of flu patients... of course I would pick that up too... Eric was also just getting over the flu. yay. flu" Took lots of Ibuprofen for pain and fever help.
Sunday Jan 16-
Pain continues, no sleep, no relief, lots of hot showers, walking around the house, walking up and down the driveway. Eric decides that I need to get out of the house and maybe a change of scenery will help this "panic attack" to release. Eric took me to Target, he needed to get gatorade and I love target... to be sure I would be able to calm down and relax in Target. Nope. I ended up sitting hysterically at the bench by the pharmacy sending Eric text messages to hurry up and come back and get me.. I needed to get home. The pain in my abdomen and back was unbearable. Just get me home. He was so sweet, he came back with a new pair of ECU sweatpants for me. He was doing everything he could to make me happy and feel no anxiety. Nothing helped. Still no sleep. Fever comes and goes. Kids have been at the lake with Erics parents all weekend, and I know they are coming home tomorrow. Praying and begging with God for relief so I can be with my kids.
Monday Jan 17-
Still no sleep since the brief hour in the ER on Friday. Eric has to go to work. Pain hasn't let up at all. Nausea is horrible. Vomitting isn't as bad, nothing left to vomit. Eric was able to get my mom to be at the house just shortly after he left for work. Mom helped around the house while I did everything I could for relief. Probably around 11 I told my mom that I couldn't do it anymore. I just couldn't deal with the pain any longer, please take me somewhere. She wanted to take me back to the ER but I wanted no part of that. They didn't do anything for me on Friday. So she took me to an urgent care, and Eric met us there. The very first thing they did on Monday was draw labs. My labwork came back all kinds of messed up. My white cell count was over 19000 and my blood sugar was 289. They asked if I was a diabetic, and I told them nope. She sent me over to the Emergency Room, and she told me they would see me quickly. They didn't have the tools for more tests and I needed to be seen immediatley. So Eric went back to work to wrap up what he had going on, and mom took me to the ER and I pitched a record fit because I wanted no part in being back there. I was supposed to be seen immediatley, the lab results had already been sent over. I waited in the ER. I paced the ER. I puked in the ER. I pulled chairs together and tried to lay down. I got up. For 5 hours this crap went on. I told my mom I wanted to leave, I wanted to go home. I almost convinced her--- then Eric got there and wouldn't let me leave. Then I was finally called back. They took a look at my labwork results from the urgent care, and then everything started happening. Fast. SO FAST.
Vials and vials and vials of blood. IVs set up on both sides of the bed. Scans, ultrasounds, xrays. Eric and Mom stayed in the room, and when I got back to the room from having xrays, ultrasounds, and a CT scan the doctor was standing there talking to Eric and my mom. Diabetes. Pancreatitis. Necrotizing Pancreatitis. Gallstones. Trauma case. Hospital transfer. Off to Pitt. Over 80% of my pancreas was dead. A gallstone had become lodged in my pancreatic duct which led to severe acute pancreatitis, and because it was not caught or treated--- it lead to severe necrotizing pancreatitis. Dead pancreas= Diabetes.
I was put in an ambulance on this cold rainy night and off to Pitt I went. Eric and Mom followed the ambulance. I remember laying in the ambulance, and at this point I felt better. I was so heavily medicated that I was finally relaxed and not feeling pain. I texted my friends from the ambulance and told them kind of what I thought was going on, and I said that I would probably be in the hospital maybe 3 or 4 days.
I arrived at Pitt after 11 pm. When I got there I had an entire team of doctors waiting for me with quite a few nurses. That's when I realized things might be worse than I had thought. We talked to the doctors, explained the last 4 days and they started drawing more and more labs. Eric had to go home to be with the girls and my mom stayed by my side.
I stayed in that room for nearly a month. In the MICU, and was told that I might not live to the next morning, and I might not live through the week. I had feeding tubes, and catheters and monitors and beeps. My mom stared at monitors all night long begging me to breathe. I had lots of visitors, I just don't remember them. I had lots of doctors, and tests, and scans and MRIs, and xrays and more xrays and more CT scans, and tube placement, and more horrible things than I can even remember.
I was transferred out of the MICU and told I was getting close to going home... then got transferred again. Finally after a solid month, I was able to go home to my babies. My mom hadn't left my side, my husband had been working full days, visiting me in the hospital and being a fulltime parent. My kids had been terrified of me in the hospital, because of all the tubes and wires and IVs and I didn't look like myself.
I stayed out of the hospital for about a week, then I was back in the hospital for a night. Then I stayed home for about another week, then I was back in the ER and they moved up my surgery and I was admitted for surgery 1. (March) My pancreas had developed a large pseudocyst that needed to be drained. So they opened my belly all the way up, and went in and removed my gall bladder, and then cut into my stomach to drain my psudeocyst into my stomach. Then I had a tube that came out of my stomach up through my nose and drained into a little canister behind me. In the other nostril I had a feeding tube. I didn't really wake up for about 3 days, and then spent another week in the hospital. 80 something staples in my tummy later and home I went. Then my pancreas flared up and I was back in the hospital within a few days. Got to go home. Then I got violently sick again. The drain for my pseduocyst had closed up and needed to be reopened. My stomach had swollen to the size of nearly a basketball and I had to have surgery the next day. Everything happened really fast with that one too. They opened me back up, and put in another drain for my super large pancreatic pseudocyst. (Oh yeah... it's April now.) After being in the hospital for another couple weeks, I got to go home again. Mom still hasn't left my side during all these months. Eric is still being an amazing husband, and parent.
Pancreas started acting a fool again, and back to the hospital I go. Weeks. I was there for weeks. I had a doctor tell me that I would be lucky to get home within a month. My hair was falling out, I'd lost so much weight. I spent my first mothers day with both my girls in the hospital. I spent Addisons 2nd birthday in the hospital. I missed all kinds of things back home, and I stayed in the hospital for another long period of time. I believe I got home around May 18. I managed to stay out of the hospital for the rest of the year! I was so proud of myself. Despite visits to the ER, I was able to not be admitted. I was able to be treated in my doctors offices and deal with the issues at home. I think I had another hospital stay in Jan 2012, then another long one in July 2012, followed by a hernia surgery in Oct 2012. The hernia developed at the incision site of my previous 2 pancreas surgeries and was the size of a football. I spent about a week in the hospital for that, and then over a month of recovery. My last hospitalization for a pancreatitis flare up was in Jan 2013. It takes a lot for me to go into the hospital for these flare ups. I fight at home for a week or longer, to avoid going into the hospital, but sometimes I have to throw in the towel and go.
So that is a brief history of my Pancreatitis Journey. Now lets talk about where the lawsuit and standard of care come in.
When I was in the hospital on Jan 14, and saw a doctor in the Wilson Medical Center Emergency Room, I was treated for a panic attack and volume depletion. I had been in complaining of severe abdominal pain. I explained the pain going through to my back. My complaints were ignored. No lab work was done, and I was sent away. NO LAB WORK WAS DONE.
On January 17, over 80% of my pancreas was dead.
A gallstone became lodged in my pancreatic duct with that intital onset of pain on Jan 13. The pancreatitis had started when the gallstone became lodged preventing the enzymes that digest food that are produced in the pancreas were being trapped in my pancreas. So naturally, enzymes that digest food, would start to digest whatever they could.... because they were trapped, they digested my pancreas.
There is a procedure that can be done called an ERCP, to remove a gallstone. It is a risky procedure, and it can cause pancreatitis itself, but it could remove a gallstone, to allow those enzymes to flow, and prevent necrosis from occuring in the pancreas. I never had the opportunity to have this procedure. I never had the opportunity to have my pancreas rest, I shouldn't have been drinking gatorades, I shouldn't have been trying to do anything.... I was just stimulating more enzymes production, and they just were eating my pancreas up. I was supposed to have been hospitalized immediatley, given aggressive hydration, and not been allowed to put anything at all in my mouth to allow my pancreas to rest.
One simple decision, or lack of any decisions on the part of an ER physician lead to months in a hospital away from my family, lifelong chronic pancreatitis and pain, 3 surgeries, lifelong pancreatic insuffiency, and diabetes. Not type 1 diabetes, not type 2 diabetes. Not diabetes that can be managed with food or exercise. Pancreoprivic diabetes. Without a pancreas. Without insulin producing cells. WIthout a pancreas period. Today I have less than 5% of a pancreas, and it is a painful little bastard. It still flares up regularly, and causes excrutiating debilitating pain that prevents me from being a wife, and mother. I still end up in the hospital.
So, we filed a lawsuit. Not trying to get rich, not trying to hurt anyone. But trying to recieve help for the half a million dollars in medical bills I had built up, and money for future medical expenses and hospitalizations and medicines. No- I don't have health insurance, when I call for quotes, they laugh at me. Cancer patients would be easier to insure. Thats what i'm told.
So for 2 years, we have gone through all the legal steps of filing a lawsuit. We have done depositions, my attorney had found experts across the country to testify that the ER physician in Wilson fell far below the minimum standard of care in many ways.
Then we had a trial. Beginning on May 6, 2013. I sat across the room from the doctor who still maintains that she did nothing wrong, for 2 weeks. I listened to them blame ME for my pancreatitis. We had experts come in and testify, and we watched video depositions of doctors who treated me, and other experts testify. They had experts testify, and their experts even testified that I had pancreatitis on Jan 14 and she missed it. We watched them meet with their experts during the breaks while the jury was out of the room, and we listened to their expert testify that "He was just making sure the defending attorney was comfortable with his testimony" We watched them change their story and change their testimony.
We watched their unqualified experts who were not board certified emergency room physicians, who hadn't even worked in ERs in years... had done mostly administrative work for the last 12 years testify that it was perfectly okay for a doctor to not draw blood in that situation.
I took the stand and told the story, I tried not to cry and I couldn't control it. I broke down on the stand. I watched my mom take the stand, and I watched my mom cry, because no mom wants to watch their baby go through all of this... with that said, no baby wants to watch their mama cry over them. Then I watched my husband take the stand, and I watched them twist his words into things that never should have come up.
I was asked if I had a problem with narcotic drugs. No! I don't! That's an insult to my character. I have chronic pancreatitis. I have to take narcotic pain killers, and I am very careful when I do take them. I monitor everything, and I'm careful about taking them when I'm alone with my kids. I don't take them when I'm alone with my kids. They knocked me below the belt numerous times, trying to destroy my character. They told me I exaggerated everything. Despite letters in my medical records from trauma nurses saying that "the pain of this diagnosis and disease is far worse than anything that anyone could imagine or comprehend."
I sat through 2 very long weeks, and left my fate in the hands of 12 jurors. 12 people who have never served on a jury before. Grandmothers, former teachers, a couple musicians, a marketing guy, moms, bankers, dads, a student. People who love the hospital and think doctors can do no wrong, and a few who have had multiple problems with the Wilson Medical Center ER.
After about 5 hours of deliberation, the jury came back. My heart was about to jump out of my chest. The judge read the verdict, and then handed it to the clerk of court to read the verdict outloud. She stumbled across her words from shock. We had been talking to everyone who had sat through our case to get their opinions. We talked to the baliffs. Everyone was sure that this doctor would be found negligent. She didn't provide the basic minimum care. She didn't order basic labs. I didn't need fancy medicine. Just labs. I suffered lifelong consequences because she didn't order labs.
The verdict was read---- the jury did not think the doctor was negligent. I was in shock. Everyone was in shock. How could this be? Is this what people want in their ER? Is this the treatment they would want for their wives/sisters/mothers/cousins/friends in the ER. Apparently so.
Their own experts testified that if she had any suspicions of anything going on in my abodomen she should have ordered labwork. She had noted "abdominal pain" on every page of my medical records, but never suspected abdominal pain. There was even a place on the paper work where pancreatitis was suggested... and it was looked over, never thought about in her mind. She said over and over again that I had the presentation of a panic attack. She then did say panic attacks could mask other problems because pain could cause someone to panic. But--- she just stopped. Despite my begging and saying this was not a panic attack, I need help. She didn't try. She wasn't interested.
The classic presentation for pancreatitis is, abdominal pain, nausea and vomitting. BAM. I had it!
But the jury came back and their verdict stands. We lost.
Half a million dollars in medical bills, that could have all been avoided with lab work. We lost.
Lifelong medical problems, that could have been avoided with lab work. We lost.
Now--- this isn't the end of my story. This is the end of the legal fight. Now, I just need to make sure that it doesn't happen to anyone else. Emergency Rooms are scary places to be. I've learned that many of them are not board certified in Emergency Medicine. I've learned that some of them got rejected from every medical school in the state, and ended up going to medical school in the caribbean. Not saying this is a bad thing, just stating that not every doctor is a top of the class, medical school genius. ER doctors don't listen to their patients. ER doctors don't write everything in the charts. If you are sick enough to be in the ER--- fight for yourself. Don't make them discharge you, or force you to sign your discharge paperwork if you don't think you need to leave. You know your body, and I learned the hard way, that they miss HUGE diagnosises all the time. If my mom had not taken me to the urgent care, I would have died. The ER had me tagged as a panic attack, and if I had gone back there, I would have fought the same battle and not gotten help. Luckily the Urgent Care saved my life and made the ER aware that I needed help.
Now, not all ERs are bad. I've had some very positive experiences in the Pitt County, Now Vidant Medical Center ER. I'm sure there are people that have had awful ones there. Not all ER doctors are bad.
However, last week I had 12 people tell me that they believe the minimum standard of care didn't require a doctor to be interested in their patient. Listen to their patient and try to help their patient. It is okay to ignore the chief complaint if you think that you can give them a quick diagnosis and get them out. The EMT was interested in me, listened to me, and tried to help. She left me with a doctor who wasn't. This is the care that so many people recieve, and now the hospital has been told that it's okay to continue to give the substandard care. It's okay.
On January 14, 2011 when I was seen in the Wilson County Medical Center ER I had acute pancreatitis. I was sent home with the diagnosis of panic attack and volume depletion. I was told to relax and drink plenty of fluids. I tried. I didn't want to go back to the ER, so when I had reached my breaking point on Monday January 17, 2011--- I went to the urgent care, and on that day I found out my life had drastically changed. I wasn't sure if I'd survive the week, or ever see my kids again. I wasn't sure if I'd ever come back to my house again. Luckily, by a miracle, I did.
Thanks to lots of prayers, and excellent medical care at Pitt County Memorial Hospital (Now, Vidant Medical Center), I am alive.
That doctor has taken no resposnibility for the part that she played in changing my life. Changing my entire families lives. She didn't even come up to me after the trial was over and offer any kind of apology. I didn't expect her to say "I'm sorry I dropped the ball with you, and it made a huge difference in your life and the quality of life," but I had hoped for something at least along the lines of "I'm sorry this happened to you, I hope that the worst is behind you, and you don't have as many problems in the future." She just left.
So many times we see in the news "I didn't do it, I didn't do it" then they admit to it years later "I did it and I'm sorry." Maybe one day, she will accept responsibity for the role she played in drastically changing my life. Changing every single day for the rest of my life. I doubt it though.
I do hope though that whenever a patient sits in front of her in the ER complaining of severe abdominal pain, nausea, and vomitting. She listens to them. She is interested in them, and I hope that she tries to help them. I hope that if a juror that sat on my case ever ends up in the ER with her as their doctor, or their childs doctor, or their mother or wifes doctor, I hope they remember everything they heard over the last 2 weeks, and stand up for the care they believe they should recieve and fight for it.
I hope that everyone that has heard my story, stands up for themselves. Nobody knows your body like you. I made the mistake in thinking that doctors know what is going on, and want to help, and are interested in finding out the cause of your pain. Some may be. Not all are. This is not an attack on every doctor. Not even every ER doctor.
This is just a caution. Be aware while you are in the care of a doctor.
It took me a long time to find a doctor that I trust. Luckily right now I have a couple. I hope they never move or retire. It is going to be very difficult for me to find another one that I trust.
Our legal system isn't flawless. In medical malpractice cases the doctor always has the benefit of the doubt. Hell... we all have seen cases where the jury comes back with a verdict and everyone is life WTF? Casey Anthony. OJ Simpon. those are just on my mind because they are loud and in the news now. This was just a quiet case in a courthouse in Wilson, where lots of people think the jury got it wrong.
Just remember a verdict like this doesn't just effect me and my family. It effects every family that walks into that ER. The minimum standard of care is now accepted and very very low.
So for all that have asked where I have been for the last 2 weeks.... I've been on the 3rd floor of the courthouse fighting for myself, and hoping to change the behavior of a doctor in an ER that so many people will see. Yes, she still works there. Yes, she still is treating patients there. She isn't a bad person. She may not be a bad doctor. She just dropped the ball big time. Unfortunatley, when she dropped it on me--- it had lifelong consequences. Maybe if it had been someone else, there would have been no long lasting consequences, but then again, if she had dropped the ball on someone else they could have died an hour after being discharged. I was lucky.
Now it is time for me to get back to living every second to its fullest. I don't know when my next hospitalization will be. So, I'm going to maximize each second I get at home with my kids. I'm going to make memories. I'm going to continue to push through the daily pain of Chronic Pancreatitis, and i'm going to keep my toilet super clean-- b/c I hate puking in a dirty toilet. Nothing that could have happened in that court room would have offered me a cure, but hopefully eliminating the stress of a legal battle will help my body relax and pancreas calm down.
I've had the most supportive family and friends over the last 2 years. Family has come in from Florida to help my husband and be with my kids while I was in the hospital. Family has helped me and my husband and the girls. Friends have watched my kids with 10 minutes notice and they have turned into family members because we love them so much. Friends have kept my husband and family fed when I have been too sick to cook, and he's been too overwhelmed to cook.
I'd like to thank everyone for your constant prayers throughout the trial. I tried to keep the trial a secret in the beginning, but I was getting so many questions--- I wanted to let everyone know. This isn't something to keep a secret.
Medical malpractice can happen to anyone. On any visit to any doctor or Emergency Room. Be informed, pay attention, and trust your body. It's better to be safe than sorry.
I am pretty sure I have written a book here.
I don't regret the trial at all. I don't regret the legal fighting for a couple years. I had an awesome lawyer, who I still would recommend to anyone. He is the best trial lawyer in the state of NC and this case simply came down to a jury. He does the job to the best of his ability, and like I said, he did an amazing job. Then you rely on 12 strangers, who have absolutley no real interest in the case, that got called to do a job that takes them away from their personal life, and make a decision that effects everyone. Jury duty is serious business. If I ever get called, I know the importance of paying attention during the entire case. We had jurors sleep, and daydream, and compose symphonies in their mind while they pretended to play the piano in the air for hours a day... every day.
Okay... i'm gonna stop this blog now.
Summer vacation has begun with my little princesses. So future blogs will go back to the original intetions. Cranky Panky Mama Drama! I am a wife, mother, lover of all things Disney, and the owner of one very cranky panky. I have lots of stories to tell.
So--- where have I been? Where are my blogs?
I have been around, being a wife, being a mom, living life in a nuthouse as usual. I have also been involved in a very craptastic lawsuit. So lets talk about that. I've heard a lot of chit chat and I have tried to answer questions as they come to me--- but at the same time, I've tried to avoid questions until just the last couple days. I had almost gone into hiding and was only talking to a very few people. I had removed all my blogs because everything I do was being examined. Now it's over... so i'll say what I have to say.
Lets get into the back story. Pancreatitis. Standard of care. Emergency Rooms. Target.
Here are the details of the history.
On Thursday January 13, 2011 Addison learned how to reach the water dispenser on the freezer. I will never forget it. I was feeding Emmalyn and I looked over my shoulder into the kitchen when I heard that deep belly giggle coming from Addison. She was standing in a swimming pool of refrigerator water. I couldn't jump up immediatley, but I was able to get her away from the water in the kitchen. I finished feeding Emmalyn and went into the kitchen so Addison could show me her new trick. We laughed, we splashed and then we talked about what a huge mess she had made. It was so hard to get mad at her. She was so proud of her skill (probably a skill that would come in handy for a busy mom later on!) I put Emmalyn down in the bouncy seat and she fell asleep. Addison and I walked back to the bathroom to get some towels and then all of a sudden I was hit with the worst pain. It knocked me to the floor. I was holding on to the counter and trying to hold myself up, until I couldn't anymore. The pain grabbed hold of me, and I couldn't breathe. This was something I had felt before. A few times. Usually it passed after about 45 minutes. We had been told I was having anxiety attacks, brought on by hormones from pregnancy. Sounded resonable. I didn't think I was depressed, or anxious, but I'm not a doctor- I figured they were smarter than I was. After a little while the pain didn't let up. I started to hear Emmalyn cry in the living room and Addison was still standing over me waiting for me to jump up with towels to go mop up the pool in the kitchen. Luckily I had my cell phone on me, and luckily it was time for Eric to get off work. I called him and told him to get home. Fast. So he came home, and I stayed sick. I started throwing up, for hours and hours and hours. The pain stayed at a high intense level. I couldn't take it anymore so Eric called his mom to come over to watch the girls so I could go to the ER. By the time she got there, I was already in the car blowing the horn. I just wanted some relief and I wanted to get to the hospital. By this time it had been nearly 4 hours and there is just no way to explain this type of pain to you. I puked my guts up out the window all the way to the hospital. Eric let me off at the front door, and I staggered inside. I didn't make it far. I threw up all over the lobby of the ER and then I fell in it. They took me straight back to a triage room, turned off the light and left me there. and left me there. and left me there. I couldn't throw up anymore. I was dry heaving, rolling on the bed, and hysterical. I thought I was having another "panic attack" but at the same time, I was terrified. I hadn't ever felt this way before. Finally, Eric opened the door to the triage room and stood there until a nurse came by. He asked her how long it was going to be before I could be seen. Her answer:7 hours. WHAT!?! If I am going to hurt, I'm going to hurt in my own bed, and throw up in my own toilet and pace my own halls. I wasn't going to lay around and be miserable and uncomfortable and not be seen. I was there for help. I wasn't getting it.
I didn't sleep at all that night. Not a bit. I was in and out of the hot shower. HOT. So hot I think I was burning myself. Burning the absolute crap out of my back was so much better than the intense pain I was feeling in my abdomen and into my back. We walked outside to try to get fresh air and help me to breathe, and I rolled around on the bed.
Friday January 14, 2011.
Eric had to get up and go to work. I was still wide awake and in no condition to keep an eye on the girls, so he took the girls to family so I could try to rest and get over whatever was going on.
I tried and I tried to calm down, relax, breathe but the pain was horrendous. 10/10. Worst pain in the world. I've given birth to 2 large children. One of which, they had to turn the epidural off completley and I delivered her 8 lb 14 oz body without drugs. I know pain. This was off the charts worse. Give me drugless childbirth any day of the week. I called Eric and told him that I could not deal with the pain anymore. He had to get me back to the hospital. I knew this wasn't anxiety, I wasn't sure what it was, but this was not a panic attack as I had originally thought the night before. Eric was on a call, and unable to get to me. He said that I needed to call 911 and get to the hospital. I hung up with him and it was probably about 9:00 am, and I called 911 and the ambulance and firemen were in my house within minutes. I do give them lots of credit for showing up quickly. They tried to slow my breathing down so I could calm down, but the pain was just way too bad. So they took me to Wilson Medical Center, and I was back in the Emergency Room. They must have been so busy, because the EMTs left me in the hallway right outside the nurses station. The EMTs reported to the triage nurse that I was having severe abdominal pain, nausea, vomitting, my pulse was high, my respirations were high. I told the nurse, that I was there because I was having the worst abdominal pain, and it was into my back. I told the doctor that I was having the worst abdominal pain, nausea and I had been vomitting for over 15 hours. She pushed on my belly, I hollered. I was hysterical. The pain was unbearable, I was exhausted because I had slept, and I was dehydrated from hours and hours of throwing up. The doctor ordered some medicines, and a nurse was able to get an IV. They gave me a couple bags of fluids, some toradol for the pain, zofran for nausea and a GI cocktail to help with whatever was happening from all the vomitting. I had enough pain relief and nausea relief that I was able to fall asleep in the hallway for a little bit. When I woke up my husband was sitting by the bed with me, and the nurse was back to tell me I was being discharged. The doctor whizzed by--- I don't know whether she pushed my stomach then or not. She came by, told me it was a panic attack and I needed to drink fluids and relax. I told her that this was NOT a panic attack. This was the WORST pain I had ever felt in my life and I begged her to do something. Do anything. Don't send me home. Then I was being discharged at 11:55 am. I hollered and cried and was a hysterical mess. I was in so much pain, and I didn't think anyone believed me. Nobody drew any blood, nobody ran any labs, nobody even acted like they cared that I was in pain. Significant pain. Eric got mad at me for causing a scene in the Emergency Room. I didn't care. I know everyone heard me, and everyone proved that they were not interested in me or my pain at all. They wanted me out.
Eric took me home and I tried to rest, drink fluids, and relax. I never slept.
Saturday Jan. 15-
Pain continues, no relief, lots of hot hot showers, lots of walking up and down the driveway, lots of crying and lots of rolling in the bed. Got a fever, thought "Damn what shitty luck that I would get a fever while I'm dealing with a panic attack..... the ER was full of flu patients... of course I would pick that up too... Eric was also just getting over the flu. yay. flu" Took lots of Ibuprofen for pain and fever help.
Sunday Jan 16-
Pain continues, no sleep, no relief, lots of hot showers, walking around the house, walking up and down the driveway. Eric decides that I need to get out of the house and maybe a change of scenery will help this "panic attack" to release. Eric took me to Target, he needed to get gatorade and I love target... to be sure I would be able to calm down and relax in Target. Nope. I ended up sitting hysterically at the bench by the pharmacy sending Eric text messages to hurry up and come back and get me.. I needed to get home. The pain in my abdomen and back was unbearable. Just get me home. He was so sweet, he came back with a new pair of ECU sweatpants for me. He was doing everything he could to make me happy and feel no anxiety. Nothing helped. Still no sleep. Fever comes and goes. Kids have been at the lake with Erics parents all weekend, and I know they are coming home tomorrow. Praying and begging with God for relief so I can be with my kids.
Monday Jan 17-
Still no sleep since the brief hour in the ER on Friday. Eric has to go to work. Pain hasn't let up at all. Nausea is horrible. Vomitting isn't as bad, nothing left to vomit. Eric was able to get my mom to be at the house just shortly after he left for work. Mom helped around the house while I did everything I could for relief. Probably around 11 I told my mom that I couldn't do it anymore. I just couldn't deal with the pain any longer, please take me somewhere. She wanted to take me back to the ER but I wanted no part of that. They didn't do anything for me on Friday. So she took me to an urgent care, and Eric met us there. The very first thing they did on Monday was draw labs. My labwork came back all kinds of messed up. My white cell count was over 19000 and my blood sugar was 289. They asked if I was a diabetic, and I told them nope. She sent me over to the Emergency Room, and she told me they would see me quickly. They didn't have the tools for more tests and I needed to be seen immediatley. So Eric went back to work to wrap up what he had going on, and mom took me to the ER and I pitched a record fit because I wanted no part in being back there. I was supposed to be seen immediatley, the lab results had already been sent over. I waited in the ER. I paced the ER. I puked in the ER. I pulled chairs together and tried to lay down. I got up. For 5 hours this crap went on. I told my mom I wanted to leave, I wanted to go home. I almost convinced her--- then Eric got there and wouldn't let me leave. Then I was finally called back. They took a look at my labwork results from the urgent care, and then everything started happening. Fast. SO FAST.
Vials and vials and vials of blood. IVs set up on both sides of the bed. Scans, ultrasounds, xrays. Eric and Mom stayed in the room, and when I got back to the room from having xrays, ultrasounds, and a CT scan the doctor was standing there talking to Eric and my mom. Diabetes. Pancreatitis. Necrotizing Pancreatitis. Gallstones. Trauma case. Hospital transfer. Off to Pitt. Over 80% of my pancreas was dead. A gallstone had become lodged in my pancreatic duct which led to severe acute pancreatitis, and because it was not caught or treated--- it lead to severe necrotizing pancreatitis. Dead pancreas= Diabetes.
I was put in an ambulance on this cold rainy night and off to Pitt I went. Eric and Mom followed the ambulance. I remember laying in the ambulance, and at this point I felt better. I was so heavily medicated that I was finally relaxed and not feeling pain. I texted my friends from the ambulance and told them kind of what I thought was going on, and I said that I would probably be in the hospital maybe 3 or 4 days.
I arrived at Pitt after 11 pm. When I got there I had an entire team of doctors waiting for me with quite a few nurses. That's when I realized things might be worse than I had thought. We talked to the doctors, explained the last 4 days and they started drawing more and more labs. Eric had to go home to be with the girls and my mom stayed by my side.
I stayed in that room for nearly a month. In the MICU, and was told that I might not live to the next morning, and I might not live through the week. I had feeding tubes, and catheters and monitors and beeps. My mom stared at monitors all night long begging me to breathe. I had lots of visitors, I just don't remember them. I had lots of doctors, and tests, and scans and MRIs, and xrays and more xrays and more CT scans, and tube placement, and more horrible things than I can even remember.
I was transferred out of the MICU and told I was getting close to going home... then got transferred again. Finally after a solid month, I was able to go home to my babies. My mom hadn't left my side, my husband had been working full days, visiting me in the hospital and being a fulltime parent. My kids had been terrified of me in the hospital, because of all the tubes and wires and IVs and I didn't look like myself.
I stayed out of the hospital for about a week, then I was back in the hospital for a night. Then I stayed home for about another week, then I was back in the ER and they moved up my surgery and I was admitted for surgery 1. (March) My pancreas had developed a large pseudocyst that needed to be drained. So they opened my belly all the way up, and went in and removed my gall bladder, and then cut into my stomach to drain my psudeocyst into my stomach. Then I had a tube that came out of my stomach up through my nose and drained into a little canister behind me. In the other nostril I had a feeding tube. I didn't really wake up for about 3 days, and then spent another week in the hospital. 80 something staples in my tummy later and home I went. Then my pancreas flared up and I was back in the hospital within a few days. Got to go home. Then I got violently sick again. The drain for my pseduocyst had closed up and needed to be reopened. My stomach had swollen to the size of nearly a basketball and I had to have surgery the next day. Everything happened really fast with that one too. They opened me back up, and put in another drain for my super large pancreatic pseudocyst. (Oh yeah... it's April now.) After being in the hospital for another couple weeks, I got to go home again. Mom still hasn't left my side during all these months. Eric is still being an amazing husband, and parent.
Pancreas started acting a fool again, and back to the hospital I go. Weeks. I was there for weeks. I had a doctor tell me that I would be lucky to get home within a month. My hair was falling out, I'd lost so much weight. I spent my first mothers day with both my girls in the hospital. I spent Addisons 2nd birthday in the hospital. I missed all kinds of things back home, and I stayed in the hospital for another long period of time. I believe I got home around May 18. I managed to stay out of the hospital for the rest of the year! I was so proud of myself. Despite visits to the ER, I was able to not be admitted. I was able to be treated in my doctors offices and deal with the issues at home. I think I had another hospital stay in Jan 2012, then another long one in July 2012, followed by a hernia surgery in Oct 2012. The hernia developed at the incision site of my previous 2 pancreas surgeries and was the size of a football. I spent about a week in the hospital for that, and then over a month of recovery. My last hospitalization for a pancreatitis flare up was in Jan 2013. It takes a lot for me to go into the hospital for these flare ups. I fight at home for a week or longer, to avoid going into the hospital, but sometimes I have to throw in the towel and go.
So that is a brief history of my Pancreatitis Journey. Now lets talk about where the lawsuit and standard of care come in.
When I was in the hospital on Jan 14, and saw a doctor in the Wilson Medical Center Emergency Room, I was treated for a panic attack and volume depletion. I had been in complaining of severe abdominal pain. I explained the pain going through to my back. My complaints were ignored. No lab work was done, and I was sent away. NO LAB WORK WAS DONE.
On January 17, over 80% of my pancreas was dead.
A gallstone became lodged in my pancreatic duct with that intital onset of pain on Jan 13. The pancreatitis had started when the gallstone became lodged preventing the enzymes that digest food that are produced in the pancreas were being trapped in my pancreas. So naturally, enzymes that digest food, would start to digest whatever they could.... because they were trapped, they digested my pancreas.
There is a procedure that can be done called an ERCP, to remove a gallstone. It is a risky procedure, and it can cause pancreatitis itself, but it could remove a gallstone, to allow those enzymes to flow, and prevent necrosis from occuring in the pancreas. I never had the opportunity to have this procedure. I never had the opportunity to have my pancreas rest, I shouldn't have been drinking gatorades, I shouldn't have been trying to do anything.... I was just stimulating more enzymes production, and they just were eating my pancreas up. I was supposed to have been hospitalized immediatley, given aggressive hydration, and not been allowed to put anything at all in my mouth to allow my pancreas to rest.
One simple decision, or lack of any decisions on the part of an ER physician lead to months in a hospital away from my family, lifelong chronic pancreatitis and pain, 3 surgeries, lifelong pancreatic insuffiency, and diabetes. Not type 1 diabetes, not type 2 diabetes. Not diabetes that can be managed with food or exercise. Pancreoprivic diabetes. Without a pancreas. Without insulin producing cells. WIthout a pancreas period. Today I have less than 5% of a pancreas, and it is a painful little bastard. It still flares up regularly, and causes excrutiating debilitating pain that prevents me from being a wife, and mother. I still end up in the hospital.
So, we filed a lawsuit. Not trying to get rich, not trying to hurt anyone. But trying to recieve help for the half a million dollars in medical bills I had built up, and money for future medical expenses and hospitalizations and medicines. No- I don't have health insurance, when I call for quotes, they laugh at me. Cancer patients would be easier to insure. Thats what i'm told.
So for 2 years, we have gone through all the legal steps of filing a lawsuit. We have done depositions, my attorney had found experts across the country to testify that the ER physician in Wilson fell far below the minimum standard of care in many ways.
Then we had a trial. Beginning on May 6, 2013. I sat across the room from the doctor who still maintains that she did nothing wrong, for 2 weeks. I listened to them blame ME for my pancreatitis. We had experts come in and testify, and we watched video depositions of doctors who treated me, and other experts testify. They had experts testify, and their experts even testified that I had pancreatitis on Jan 14 and she missed it. We watched them meet with their experts during the breaks while the jury was out of the room, and we listened to their expert testify that "He was just making sure the defending attorney was comfortable with his testimony" We watched them change their story and change their testimony.
We watched their unqualified experts who were not board certified emergency room physicians, who hadn't even worked in ERs in years... had done mostly administrative work for the last 12 years testify that it was perfectly okay for a doctor to not draw blood in that situation.
I took the stand and told the story, I tried not to cry and I couldn't control it. I broke down on the stand. I watched my mom take the stand, and I watched my mom cry, because no mom wants to watch their baby go through all of this... with that said, no baby wants to watch their mama cry over them. Then I watched my husband take the stand, and I watched them twist his words into things that never should have come up.
I was asked if I had a problem with narcotic drugs. No! I don't! That's an insult to my character. I have chronic pancreatitis. I have to take narcotic pain killers, and I am very careful when I do take them. I monitor everything, and I'm careful about taking them when I'm alone with my kids. I don't take them when I'm alone with my kids. They knocked me below the belt numerous times, trying to destroy my character. They told me I exaggerated everything. Despite letters in my medical records from trauma nurses saying that "the pain of this diagnosis and disease is far worse than anything that anyone could imagine or comprehend."
I sat through 2 very long weeks, and left my fate in the hands of 12 jurors. 12 people who have never served on a jury before. Grandmothers, former teachers, a couple musicians, a marketing guy, moms, bankers, dads, a student. People who love the hospital and think doctors can do no wrong, and a few who have had multiple problems with the Wilson Medical Center ER.
After about 5 hours of deliberation, the jury came back. My heart was about to jump out of my chest. The judge read the verdict, and then handed it to the clerk of court to read the verdict outloud. She stumbled across her words from shock. We had been talking to everyone who had sat through our case to get their opinions. We talked to the baliffs. Everyone was sure that this doctor would be found negligent. She didn't provide the basic minimum care. She didn't order basic labs. I didn't need fancy medicine. Just labs. I suffered lifelong consequences because she didn't order labs.
The verdict was read---- the jury did not think the doctor was negligent. I was in shock. Everyone was in shock. How could this be? Is this what people want in their ER? Is this the treatment they would want for their wives/sisters/mothers/cousins/friends in the ER. Apparently so.
Their own experts testified that if she had any suspicions of anything going on in my abodomen she should have ordered labwork. She had noted "abdominal pain" on every page of my medical records, but never suspected abdominal pain. There was even a place on the paper work where pancreatitis was suggested... and it was looked over, never thought about in her mind. She said over and over again that I had the presentation of a panic attack. She then did say panic attacks could mask other problems because pain could cause someone to panic. But--- she just stopped. Despite my begging and saying this was not a panic attack, I need help. She didn't try. She wasn't interested.
The classic presentation for pancreatitis is, abdominal pain, nausea and vomitting. BAM. I had it!
But the jury came back and their verdict stands. We lost.
Half a million dollars in medical bills, that could have all been avoided with lab work. We lost.
Lifelong medical problems, that could have been avoided with lab work. We lost.
Now--- this isn't the end of my story. This is the end of the legal fight. Now, I just need to make sure that it doesn't happen to anyone else. Emergency Rooms are scary places to be. I've learned that many of them are not board certified in Emergency Medicine. I've learned that some of them got rejected from every medical school in the state, and ended up going to medical school in the caribbean. Not saying this is a bad thing, just stating that not every doctor is a top of the class, medical school genius. ER doctors don't listen to their patients. ER doctors don't write everything in the charts. If you are sick enough to be in the ER--- fight for yourself. Don't make them discharge you, or force you to sign your discharge paperwork if you don't think you need to leave. You know your body, and I learned the hard way, that they miss HUGE diagnosises all the time. If my mom had not taken me to the urgent care, I would have died. The ER had me tagged as a panic attack, and if I had gone back there, I would have fought the same battle and not gotten help. Luckily the Urgent Care saved my life and made the ER aware that I needed help.
Now, not all ERs are bad. I've had some very positive experiences in the Pitt County, Now Vidant Medical Center ER. I'm sure there are people that have had awful ones there. Not all ER doctors are bad.
However, last week I had 12 people tell me that they believe the minimum standard of care didn't require a doctor to be interested in their patient. Listen to their patient and try to help their patient. It is okay to ignore the chief complaint if you think that you can give them a quick diagnosis and get them out. The EMT was interested in me, listened to me, and tried to help. She left me with a doctor who wasn't. This is the care that so many people recieve, and now the hospital has been told that it's okay to continue to give the substandard care. It's okay.
On January 14, 2011 when I was seen in the Wilson County Medical Center ER I had acute pancreatitis. I was sent home with the diagnosis of panic attack and volume depletion. I was told to relax and drink plenty of fluids. I tried. I didn't want to go back to the ER, so when I had reached my breaking point on Monday January 17, 2011--- I went to the urgent care, and on that day I found out my life had drastically changed. I wasn't sure if I'd survive the week, or ever see my kids again. I wasn't sure if I'd ever come back to my house again. Luckily, by a miracle, I did.
Thanks to lots of prayers, and excellent medical care at Pitt County Memorial Hospital (Now, Vidant Medical Center), I am alive.
That doctor has taken no resposnibility for the part that she played in changing my life. Changing my entire families lives. She didn't even come up to me after the trial was over and offer any kind of apology. I didn't expect her to say "I'm sorry I dropped the ball with you, and it made a huge difference in your life and the quality of life," but I had hoped for something at least along the lines of "I'm sorry this happened to you, I hope that the worst is behind you, and you don't have as many problems in the future." She just left.
So many times we see in the news "I didn't do it, I didn't do it" then they admit to it years later "I did it and I'm sorry." Maybe one day, she will accept responsibity for the role she played in drastically changing my life. Changing every single day for the rest of my life. I doubt it though.
I do hope though that whenever a patient sits in front of her in the ER complaining of severe abdominal pain, nausea, and vomitting. She listens to them. She is interested in them, and I hope that she tries to help them. I hope that if a juror that sat on my case ever ends up in the ER with her as their doctor, or their childs doctor, or their mother or wifes doctor, I hope they remember everything they heard over the last 2 weeks, and stand up for the care they believe they should recieve and fight for it.
I hope that everyone that has heard my story, stands up for themselves. Nobody knows your body like you. I made the mistake in thinking that doctors know what is going on, and want to help, and are interested in finding out the cause of your pain. Some may be. Not all are. This is not an attack on every doctor. Not even every ER doctor.
This is just a caution. Be aware while you are in the care of a doctor.
It took me a long time to find a doctor that I trust. Luckily right now I have a couple. I hope they never move or retire. It is going to be very difficult for me to find another one that I trust.
Our legal system isn't flawless. In medical malpractice cases the doctor always has the benefit of the doubt. Hell... we all have seen cases where the jury comes back with a verdict and everyone is life WTF? Casey Anthony. OJ Simpon. those are just on my mind because they are loud and in the news now. This was just a quiet case in a courthouse in Wilson, where lots of people think the jury got it wrong.
Just remember a verdict like this doesn't just effect me and my family. It effects every family that walks into that ER. The minimum standard of care is now accepted and very very low.
So for all that have asked where I have been for the last 2 weeks.... I've been on the 3rd floor of the courthouse fighting for myself, and hoping to change the behavior of a doctor in an ER that so many people will see. Yes, she still works there. Yes, she still is treating patients there. She isn't a bad person. She may not be a bad doctor. She just dropped the ball big time. Unfortunatley, when she dropped it on me--- it had lifelong consequences. Maybe if it had been someone else, there would have been no long lasting consequences, but then again, if she had dropped the ball on someone else they could have died an hour after being discharged. I was lucky.
Now it is time for me to get back to living every second to its fullest. I don't know when my next hospitalization will be. So, I'm going to maximize each second I get at home with my kids. I'm going to make memories. I'm going to continue to push through the daily pain of Chronic Pancreatitis, and i'm going to keep my toilet super clean-- b/c I hate puking in a dirty toilet. Nothing that could have happened in that court room would have offered me a cure, but hopefully eliminating the stress of a legal battle will help my body relax and pancreas calm down.
I've had the most supportive family and friends over the last 2 years. Family has come in from Florida to help my husband and be with my kids while I was in the hospital. Family has helped me and my husband and the girls. Friends have watched my kids with 10 minutes notice and they have turned into family members because we love them so much. Friends have kept my husband and family fed when I have been too sick to cook, and he's been too overwhelmed to cook.
I'd like to thank everyone for your constant prayers throughout the trial. I tried to keep the trial a secret in the beginning, but I was getting so many questions--- I wanted to let everyone know. This isn't something to keep a secret.
Medical malpractice can happen to anyone. On any visit to any doctor or Emergency Room. Be informed, pay attention, and trust your body. It's better to be safe than sorry.
I am pretty sure I have written a book here.
I don't regret the trial at all. I don't regret the legal fighting for a couple years. I had an awesome lawyer, who I still would recommend to anyone. He is the best trial lawyer in the state of NC and this case simply came down to a jury. He does the job to the best of his ability, and like I said, he did an amazing job. Then you rely on 12 strangers, who have absolutley no real interest in the case, that got called to do a job that takes them away from their personal life, and make a decision that effects everyone. Jury duty is serious business. If I ever get called, I know the importance of paying attention during the entire case. We had jurors sleep, and daydream, and compose symphonies in their mind while they pretended to play the piano in the air for hours a day... every day.
Okay... i'm gonna stop this blog now.
Summer vacation has begun with my little princesses. So future blogs will go back to the original intetions. Cranky Panky Mama Drama! I am a wife, mother, lover of all things Disney, and the owner of one very cranky panky. I have lots of stories to tell.
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