Doctors Don’t Always Bury Their Mistakes recounts a horrific journey at the hands of physicians who repeatedly prescribed endless doses of strong narcotics in an attempt to quell agonizing pain. Caught in a tangled web of ineffective treatment plans and procedures for a decade, renowned specialists from Denver, Las Vegas, and Chicago viewed her not as a patient, but as a human guinea pig-nothing more than an experimental subject. Names have been changed; it was not to protect the guilty.
And now, an excerpt from Doctors Don’t Always Bury Their Mistakes…
Suddenly, in one split second, my life changed forever.
One day in August 1988 shaped the course of my destiny—a day that would steer me into unfamiliar, uncharted territory, sending me into a world of pain and darkness for many years to come.
It was an ordinary day, one of those days I usually took for granted. Little did I know my life was about to change drastically. This unremarkable day would have a profound effect on me and would alter my life forever. Strange how unforeseen events sneak up on you when you least expect it.
It was a busy day. My mind and body were going full speed ahead, a hundred miles a minute, and in thirty different directions! There was just no time to stop and smell those roses I kept hearing about. This unbelievable day would be etched in my brain, body, and memory forever.
That afternoon I walked into my kitchen, oblivious to what would happen next. A large green trash bag with one empty bottle of Thousand Island salad dressing attacked me, or so it seemed. A little detail like this shouldn’t have a lot of impact on anyone, but it sure did on me. It would haunt me for the rest of my life.
The truth of the matter was I was a klutz. I had never thought of myself as a klutz until that day, though. As I walked past the trash bag on the counter, my clumsy fingers accidentally bumped it onto the floor and smack-dab into my right foot. I would spend many years of soul-searching asking this question: Was it an accident or a simple twist of fate?
There were no words to explain the intensity of the pain I felt. Hot, searing, sharp lines of pain started at my toes and rose through my knee. The pain shot into my thigh, through my spine, and into my brain.
It felt as if someone had taken a hunting knife—one of those big ones with serrated edges—and placed it into a fire with hot coals, then jammed it deeply into my foot, dragging it through my body. I immediately felt dizzy. The room started spinning, and I almost fell to the ground. My pain was agonizing, and I could barely apply any pressure to my foot. It was impossible to walk even a few paces with the pain I was experiencing. It was unlike any sensation I had ever felt in my life. At the same time, the agony engulfed my body, and I thought, “How can one small glass bottle hurt so much?”
At that moment my life spun totally out of my control. The aching became fiercer with each passing second. The throbbing was so strong that my heart beat rapidly. I was confused and frightened by its intensity, and my state of increasing agitation produced a severe anxiety attack. The more I panicked, the worse I hyperventilated.