How should I start?

First I guesss I should start out by saying; I am not a doctor, I do not claim to be giving out any medical adivice, I am not writing this to trash doctors and\or lawyers, if you are having signs\symptoms of a stroke call 911 immediately!





Ok with that out of the way I would like to say that I typically write in a journal and have never thought to use a blog before today. however, in light of recent events I feel that this is the best way for me to "stop screaming" (pun intended) and start getting people to hear what I have to say. Some may not like it, some may think it unimportant, some may even think i'm crazy or full of shit, and to those people... that's okay you don't have to read it.. or do, maybe I am providing you entertainment value? Like my teacher tells me all the time, I am not here to teach you anything you don't already know, I am here to give you information from my point of view, hear me out, keep what you want and throw the rest in the trash. Yes teach if you ever read this I really do listen!





So here we go, but not in chronological order because I feel like it's important to explain why I am suddenly cheating on my ever faithful journal and turning to the newer younger temptress, the blog, with millions of shoulders to cry on.





Yesterday turned out to be the final blow from the last lawyer in a very long line of medical malpractice lawyers in the last two years. April 28, 2009 I recieved a call from the lawyer who had been my "referral guy" apologizing for the latest catastrophe and telling me there was just one more person I just had to see so against the advice of my mother. I figured I would give it one last shot. I agreed to the meeting and, well I guess I'll just call him Referrel guy( I don't want to violate anyones privacy on here)before we hung up referral guy told me he would personally be transferring my mountian of records from the Siren(the prev. lawyer lots of promises, none of them kept, sucks all of the life and energy out of you) to Mr. Last Chance (i'm going out on a limb that we don't need an explanation here?). So all week I worried, my mom worried, friendsand family worried, an then I though AHA I figured out where I 've been going wrong!!!


You see the thing is, when some one walks in to an emergency room or actually doesn't walk, with signs of a stroke, the Nurses and Doctors are supposed to be trained to recognize this. From the onset of symptoms a clock starts ticking (they don't show you that in their PSA's do they?) you have around 3-4 hours before your window closes but thats not the time line I wanna discuss yet, we will get to it though, I promise. So anyway, the other clock, it's a clock for the doctor's it gives them a schedule, x amount of minutes to get patient to cat scan, x amount of time to place i.v., and so on and so forth. Ok so now that I have explained that we have to clocks lets give them names for clarification. The clock that starts when your symptoms do I'm going to call the TPA clock, and the clock that starts when you walk into the ER I'm going to call the standard of care time line or SCT okey dokey now that I have lost half of you and the other half are sick of reading already I will FINALLY get back to my point.


The other lawyers and myself were all focusing on the TPA time line, which was roally screwed for all intensive purposes but that didn't matter because it's to hard to prove. We needed to focus on the SCT timeline. Even though the doctor's and nurses followed absolutely no protocol whatsoever, The TPA timeline is something that is a set thing it effects each patient there are factors besides time which will dtermine wether or not a patient can have the drug or not and either way after the window of time is shut it's shut that is a scientific thing not a doctors decision. This is not something I can fight about.


I can however fight About the fact that I did not recieve the care I deserved in a timely manner as stated by the American Stroke Association. So in thinking about that I did exactly what my mother and friends feared I would do... I started to hope.


And on Friday morning with a very queasy stomach I called my husband for support, waited for my poor mother to pick me up and together, along with my son we drove to what I was sure to be the end of my journey. In A lot of ways it was, just not how I thought.


We talked about nothing and everything , I complained per-usual about her driving, she searched for a golden-arched resturaunt for a coke ( a 20-oz wouldn't do?) she talked on her phone while I yelled at her choice of directions, the tension so thick it radiated from the car in waves.


When we got there I was immediately overwhelmed with emotion, my 1st.. to march(which would not have been very attractive) in the office and tell Mr. Last Canch to open his damn eyes and take a good look at my records, an then tell me he wasn't gonna take my case. My 2nd, turn tail and run crying back to the car, admit defeat, crawl home and wallow in self pity. 3rd Go down fighting. I can't really decide which way I went, but I think my mom would say I was the bigger person. Maybe someone else can tell me?


We walked in the building heads high, rode the elevator practically into the clouds and went in to see Mr. Last Chances Assistant. I allowed myself to be distracted from the situation by a problem with my memory card in my phone while I let my mother answer a few questions and I fought to gain control over my emotions, interjecting an answer when I felt it necessary. Then when I was calm enough I started adding things, except I might have done so to soon because my words were coming out so fast and the thoughts were coming even faster, before I knew it The hope that had been obliterated so many , many times before wanted so badly to break free, and it almost did.


The Assistant excused herself from the room and brought in Mr. Last Chance. An see heres the thing, When Doctors and lawyers can't look directly at you when they enter a room they aren't wanting to see you as a person, which means they don't wanna feel bad when they crush you. ( probably a really bad way to put it but you get the idea.) At this point I made sure I looked into his eyes just to prove to myself I could do it, and I then started gathering my records for a fast get away incase my mother or I threw him to the pavement from the window of the cloud high office, An steeled myself for yet another let down. Over the next few minutes I listened to the same thing I had heard over the last 2 years almost to the letter I mean really do they ha a hidden audio recording somewhere in the office? (let down speech #1 press button to the right of chair 2 inches over under desk 2nd chair from door meeting room 1?) Well anyway, mom did what she always does, protective mom mode, I went into defensive, shutdown, say the wrong thing and i'll pounce mode and the lawyer just calmly explained. When I do the play back in my headit's all like a slow motion scene with a montage of the sirens office, the other lawyers, the er, all kinds of stuff wrapped in and then we end in me getting into the car.

the whole ride home was spent keeping a smile pasted on my face , for my moms benifit and the repetitive mantra i'm fine i'm fine in mine head. I had the headache of all headaches and cramps to boot, cause just my luck my damn period started yesterday morning too. So even though my mom thought I was gonna break into a zillion pieces when she left my house and I could tell she didn't want to, she did anyway. I grabbed a book a pop and a phone and sat down on the couch like it was just any other day, later I picked up my daughter from school and talked to my mom on the phone. Things were normal. Everyone's Just waiting for me to break.

So here's the catch and the moral of todays entry. I talked to the Referral guy again last night and explained what happened and he tried to give me more hope for another lawyer, and I turned him down. That was the catch. The suprise was that None of this set in until later last night when I was talking to my daughter about some emotional problems shes having at school. you see, sh's much smaller than most of the kids her size and when this bugs her and they pick on her or point it out she gets angry and acts like a brat at home. So I was explaing that in life we have to make choices, she doesn't get to have a choice to be big or small, just as I didn't get to chose wether or not to have a stroke. But we do get to chose how we handle the choices that are made for us, we can handle them by talking them out with friends and family and trying to come up with a better solution and a way to figure it out, or we can bottle it all up and be angry.



So through 2 years 4 lawyers hundreds of doctors\ specialists appointments, thousands of dollars in phonebills, oceans of tears more broken hearts than I can count., My 7 year old Daughter taught me that I was chosing to fight for all the wrong reasons, in all the wrong ways with all the wrong people.



Is my journey over? Not by a long shot, I'm just chosing the higher road!
so you all tomorrow


Happy mothers day mom that one was just for you!
s