Shaun O'Neal

Abject Depression.

The cause.

 

 

As some of you might know. I don't walk as well as I used to. Two years ago 2-6-2010 I was at a nowhere job in a small, nowhere town, on the west coast of Washington State. My dreams of a theatre of my own making ripped from me. I found the abandon theatre. Designed it with friend. Planned out the stage, lights, sound, motif. Everything. I had crawled from the rafters of the suspended ceiling to the mud under the very base under the stage. I could walk in and hear the echoes of the once proud theatre. My partner and I had a deal with the owner. He backed out. A, less than honest, man who grew up in the town decided after much consultation with myself and my partner, to circumvent us and buy it himself. He had no experience in theatre. With the exception of going to a show or two. He did try and get me to turn over my sound and lighting configurations. When I told him he would have to pay me first, he declined. That was the end of that.

 

I took a job at the local big box home store. The work was not that mentally challenging. Physically challenging was another thing. I could lose a few pounds so I took the job. Besides the money was running out.

 

I continued to search for an artistic outlet. I started to write again. First more poetry. Then short stories. A script for a friend of mine. I had been tossing around new ideas for a book I had started some years ago. I got to work.

Working after I got home and on my weekends, I wrote and wrote. The last 25,000 words came with ease. A muse was on my shoulder. I finished on 2-4-2010. just after midnight. My chest swelled with the pride of accomplishment. That was Friday.

 

Working at the big box seemed lighter somehow. Sunday it all changed.

 

Sunday night I was pulling a pallet jack out from under an empty pallet. That's when it happened. Something in my left foot popped and there was a loud squishing sound. The pain was exquisite. I could not even put my foot down. I called for help. I was in real trouble. An hour of paperwork with the manager later I went to the local hospital. I'm afraid the local hospital does not have the best reputation. The level of care I received that night was evidence and corroboration of the rumors. My shoe was removed. An ex-ray was taken. No bones were broken. A brace and an ice pack were given to me along with crutches and 2 pills, Vicodin. I was sent home and told to see the local orthopedic specialist in two days. I went with the hope of better care.

 

My first visit.

I hobbled into the office on the crutches. I still could not put my foot on the ground with out screaming.

The Dr. came into the exam room. He introduced himself to me. A friend of mine was with with me. Natalie had seen this Dr. for new thumb joints. He seemed competent. He asked about the accident. I told him what had happened at work and the hospital. He poked at my foot. He took another x-ray. Still nothing broken. Natalie chimes in, “ How about an MRI? ” the Dr. says there is no need for one. I ask about soft tissue damage. He says in a sprain there is always some. Nothing to worry about.

 

One week later.

Second visit.

I still have so much pain I can't put my foot down. Still on crutches both Natalie and I ask about an MRI. He tells me he does not feel I need one. Besides the insurance companies don't like them. I have no choice but to take him at his word. More poking at my foot. He proceeds to pronounce that I have “CRPS” he continued with he did a lot of work on it at the Mayo clinic. He told me that the best thing I could do is “Get used to it.” With that he told me I needed to go to physical therapy.

 

Therapy.

It was what it was. They did their best with the diagnosis given by the Dr.

I was not using a cane, not the crutches.

My foot hurt after each session.

 

The next visit to the Dr. went as the first few. I said it hurt. He told me that's what I could expect, I would have to get used to it.

Again Natalie and I asked about an MRI. More resistance from the Dr.

 

The weeks passed.

At this point I did not know if my foot was getting any better or I was just getting used to pain. I can say this for sure. My right hip was taking a pounding. It was starting to become problematic. With each visit that came and went. Natalie and I asked for an MRI. The insurance was now asking for it as well. They also asked and sent me for a second opinion. An MRI was ordered.

 

The MRI.

The MRI appointment was set. It was a week out. I waited.

My earring came out. Off I went. I have had one before. I knew what to expect. I lay in there for almost an hour.

I was done.

As I was walking out I looked in and saw the images. I'm capable of reading them well enough to see what I had hoped I would not see. To my chagrin I saw a very torn and frayed tendon.

 

Emotional calamity.

All at once I felt betrayed. I knew I was hurt. However I had no idea it was that bad. I would have to wait a day or two for the official findings. The report came. I understand medical terminology. Yes, I took a class for it. Not to mention anatomy, physiology. I called my dad. He's a chiropractor back in California. He taught me how to read x-rays. I read him the findings. He became enraged. I assured him I would not be going back to that Dr. ever again. I was seeing the second opinion Dr. in two days. This would be a good place to start. Only one thing was now for sure. I needed a new Dr. and I was not going to go back to therapy.

 

Second opinion.

This Dr. read and interpreted the report. I did not have “CRPS” I did not one tear. I had three badly torn tendons. This Dr. agreed I needed a new doctor.

 

New Doctor.

A new one was found in Olympia. An expert on the foot and ankle. One of the best in the state. It took a month to get in. At seeing the MRI for himself his response was this, “How soon can I get you into surgery.” It took another month to get it through the insurance. This doctor told me that if things were normal the surgery should not take more than 20 minutes. However. With the damage that had been done it would take longer.

 

Surgery.

The day came. I went in. The surgery took 2 hours. The damage was so extensive he could not repair it all.

However the tendons were now where they should be. He did have to dig up into my calf to retrieve one of them.

The first scar in my left is almost 10 inches long. I did not have much pain with this surgery. The nerve damage took a lot of it away. Good thing too. The Dr's surgical staff told me this was going to hurt a lot! It never really hurt that much.

 

Healing.

My foot was healing. At least the scar was looking better. Walking was no easier. My foot was still purple 2 months later. Walking was not any easier. My foot still rolls to the outside.

 

 

My right hip.

It has been over 8 months since the original accident. My foot still has little or no stability without the knee high custom brace. My Dr. takes an x-ray of my hips. These I can read as fast as anyone. My left hip has over ¼ inch spacing. Nothing wrong with it. The right hip is another matter. It's bone on bone. The bone is eroded. The constant limping has destroyed my hip. The Dr. writes up a request for a full replacement. This has me beyond frightened. I have seen the surgery. The brutality of it. Ripping the leg out of the socket cutting the top of the femur off and pounding a titanate rod over 7 inches into the raw bone. The use of a rasp on a drill and abrading the hip joint. Screwing a receiver in and connecting the two. Lastly sewing all the tissue back together in the right order and right place.

 

01/03/2011

Today is the day. I did not sleep well. No one could blame me. The hospital is 45 miles away. I have to be there by 6am. It's dark out. Cold and rainy weather is prevalent this time of year. I drive with Natalie sitting in the right seat. I park and check in. I'm shown to a small room with a gurney. I take off my clothes and put on the backless gown and lay down on the gurney. My surgery is the first one on the list. I see my Dr. he tells me there is nothing to worry about. After all this operation is nothing more than “sterile carpentry” this does little to make me feel better. The IVs are put in and the anesthesiologist comes in. His demeanor is positive. He asks me how nervous I am about this operation. I tell him. He is understanding. He does his best to reassure me. He walks out and comes back in with a hypo of something. He put it into the IV line and tells me I will feel wonderful in a bit. I'm glad for this. The nurse comes in and says it's time to go. With a hug I'm off. I only remember getting as far as the nurses station. Then I remember something about sitting up with nurses around me. Out again. I wake up in my room. I look around. I see Natalie. We talk a bit. She gives me a hug and says she has to go home. Now safe and awake I tell her to be careful going back home. The pain was not good. I pushed the button and closed my eyes. I fell asleep.

 

Later that night.

I awoke with a lot of pain. Somehow I had slid down in the bed. My feet were jammed against the foot board. I called for the nurse. He was 6'10” I asked him to help me get back up. He told me it was going to hurt. I told him I understood. He called for additional help and I was moved. He was right it hurt. Again I hit the pain relief button. It did little to stop the pain. I started to meditate. The pain quickly went away.

 

Next morning.

I awoke to the feeling of nausea and light sensitivity. My head was pounding. This was a migraine brought on by the pain medication. They almost had to put me in a separate room. A very dark room. I was off all the pain meds. Meditation is now my best friend. The best pain medication I can take is Ibuprofen. Lucky me.

 

Time to go home.

I got lucky I got to go home on time. Three days is all you get. The last day I was in physical therapy. They wanted to teach me how to go op and down the stairs. Up with the good and down with the bad. This I knew. I have had to proceed in this manner for a while now. It took work and help but I got dressed to leave. Needless to say I was in a lot of pain. I got home and to bed. Sleep cam easy for me. I was in my own bed.

 

The next few weeks.

The pain was keeping me from doing just about everything. I needed the crutches again. They got got me to the bath room and back to bed. I had to move around. The walking would help keep the hip from locking up. It took effort but I did it. Going up and down the stairs from my room to the kitchen was the best I could manage. I did have to go for weekly blood tests. The blood thinner I was on required it.

 

 

New kitten.

I was 11 days home. I was sitting in the dinning room. Natalie had made me a late lunch / early dinner. In fact she and her son have been staying at my house to make sure I'm alright. While I was sitting in the dinning room a little kitten was scratching at the window. Scratching and mewing. The weather was turning from bad, normal, to worse. I looked at the kitten and told it that it should go home. Unbeknown to me Natalie went outside and gave it some food the day before. It was still light out. Natalie said she and her son would take pictures and go around the neighborhood. It was her hope to find the owners. The kitten, a little calico followed her and her son every steep of the way. The three of them came back to the house. Owner not to be found. Natalie had to go check on her own cats. She and her son headed for her house. Before she left she asked if she could leave the kitten in the mud room. I agreed. No sooner than she left the sky opened and the snow came down, with in a few minutes it was to heavy to make it back up to my house. I called her and said I would be alright till tomorrow. With the weather as bad as it was she had no choice. I went to sleep. I awoke sometime after dark. Looking at the clock it said it was almost midnight. I thought of the kitten. I got downstairs with a sweatshirt in hand. I got into the mud room and made a bed for the kitten. Even with the huge pain in my hip I could not let that kitten freeze. I would have brought her all the way in, however my, Queen of the house, would have been a problem. I checked on her twice more that night. She was here to stay. Because she followed Natalie around like a little dog, I called her spot. She learned her name in 2 days.

 

Time.

The weeks turned into months. Therapy for my hip continued. I could now walk on my left foot, with a knee high orthopedic brace. And pain. I could now walk with the brace and a cane. I had almost no lateral stability in my foot. It looks like the operation on my foot put the tendons back. Still they did not want to work. I talked it over with the Surgeon. He said there was one thing left he could do. That is one last thing before fusing the bones in my ankle. He suggested a S.P.L.A.T. This would at least give me some stability. He would take the tendon from my big toe. Split it in half reattach one half back on the toe. The other half he would attach it to the other side of my foot. This would give me half of one tendon. Not much but better than the zero working now. Again we had to wait for the insurance to approve it. They did and the date was set.

 

One last try.

Again I went in. I came home the same day. This time my foot “Woke up” faster. In fact the pain was worse than my hip. I called the Dr. the staff at the surgical center told me to take the pain pills 1 every two hours. It was not ibuprofen. This time it did not make me sicker. I took them for almost 10 days. The pain slowly faded. My foot was in a cast. The orders from the Dr. were simple and difficult. Stay in bed for the next 6 weeks. The tendons need to attach. This was almost a full year after the first go around on my foot. I did as the Dr. ordered. I did not want to wreck anything. I have been at this far to long.

 

Clod anger.

With therapy my foot is now working at about 20% The Dr. is very pleased at how much it has improved. However this is all I will probably get. The tendons were to far gone by the time he got to them.

 

 

Whats next?

I try and live this new life that has been given to me. All because one Dr. did not care enough to order one fucking test. I have a suit pending at this time. 2/11/2012 I hold this man in complete contempt. My life will never be the same. I may not even be able to ride a bicycle again. I will never run again. I will have to use a cane for the rest of my life. I will also have pain. I will not take anything that I could become addicted to. The ibuprofen will have to do. Even that I only take when it's bad.

Sleep comes in short spells. 4-5 hours. Some days I find myself needing a nap.

Writing has / is helping me keep what little sanity I have. That and a few good friends.

The depression I now have I hope will fade in time. It should. I still laugh and cry. All the things that make one human. I look forward to the day I can move on from this. I think the suite will help in this. Not only will it give me peace of mind. I hope it opens the eyes of the first Dr. that pronounced this sentence upon me.

I hope he will never do it to another.