MEDICAL MADNESS-THE WAR NEVER ENDS

MEDICAL MADNESS   

MISDIAGNOSIS IS MORE COMMON THAN IT'S HEARD ABOUT....

In 1985 at the age of twenty-two, I had an accident at work and was misdiagnosed as having "rhomboid muscle strain,” Once I was misdiagnosed, my walk through medical madness began.  

1985, I was put into a corrupt Workers Compensation system.  I got to see first hand a new “concentration” camp for injured workers.  I was given a number, and forced to comply with whatever they wanted for the next thirty-one years, from 1985 to 2015 the adjudicators on my case, made my life hell with the first of many derogatory report stating I was a “63-year-old woman, with low-back problems."  And each label they put on me caused more problems.

I went through the WSIB rehab center in Downsview from August 1985 to January 1986.  Each day I had to travel by bus, for thirty minutes to get to the WSIB Rehab center.  Each day I fought for my life, for breath as the pain increased and they put me through a regime of lifting weights, swimming, stretching and bending.   

Eight months later, a CT scan would reveal a broken rib, in the upper right side of my back.  I thought that would be the end of the nightmare and pain, as well as testing, but even with proof, nobody would acknowledge the damage the rib had done, and they still believed it would heal.  

For eleven months, I was used as a guinea pig by the doctors, being experimented on to find ways to stop the pain...from unnecessary spinal taps, nerve blocks, cortisone injections and later procaine injections which went from 50mg to 350 mg, that only caused me to hallucinate. 

The fact that I was trying to find medical help daily, and was sent away with only a prescription, only got me branded and labeled further by the WSIB adjudicators.  Because I had no proof of anything more wrong than muscle strain, and despite my pleas as I was begging for medical help they ignored me, ignoring my deterioration.

WSIB made my life hell from day one, I was put into this corrupt system and they harassed me constantly, calling me a liar, a con.... or cutting me off because they had no proof of anything more than the muscle strain. 

Despite me telling them I felt there was more wrong, they wrote me up as being "obsessed" with my pain.  That first year, I saw a total of eleven specialists, who only speculated further on the pain I was in.  One doctor diagnosed me as having a "TUMOR" and I was told to come back in six months to see what developed......this should have told me of my journey through medical madness.

I had to attend the WSIB rehab in Downsview, from Monday to Friday, the rehab was later closed after an investigation proved abuse and illegal activities.  WSIB wrote in reports that I was faking my pain, and bringing attention to myself when I fell to the floor crying in pain, barely able to breathe, after having to lift weights.  

December 1985, eight months later, I admitted myself to the hospital where I had seen another surgeon, because I was having breathing problems.  The surgeon saw me a week later, he saw the CT scan and it showed a broken rib with nerve entrapment.  He waved it away with his hand, saying that he would do his own testing, he refused to remove the rib.  I would spend the next few weeks going through painful nerve blocks, as they tried to get the pain to stop...while the rib was doing more damage.

While in the hospital, my depression only got worse.  The pain was getting worse as each day the nerve blocks sent me into more painful spasms.  During my time there, I found out I was pregnant, and I lost a child I couldn't carry to term, due to the many x-rays, radiation, and medications I was given since my accident.

I found a new surgeon in 1986, by the time I got to see him, I had no voice to speak, so I gave him a letter.... the same letter I had given so many other doctors’ that sent me away...this was a suicide letter explaining the experiments and hell I had been through and the losses. 

I told him I couldn't take anymore... and if he sent me away, I would go home and put myself to sleep.  It was almost a year later; the pain was unbearable.  On March 4th, the day before my twenty-third birthday I had the rib taken out of my back. 

The rib had caused internal damage, nerve damage, and the rib, as well as the damaged nerves, were removed.  WSIB didn't care....and as soon as the operation was over, they went back to harassing me about returning to my previous job.  

Because I was experiencing burning and spasms after the rib was removed, I had no idea what the cause was… WSIB cut me off, and I had to find a job, despite the pain I told them I was experiencing after the operation in March.  I have had to spend more time advocating and trying to recover…and another fight was on to figure out how to get help for this new problem.

I was sent to a new neurosurgeon who worked with me for many years.  I was sent to Behaviour management therapy to help me cope with the pain and then pain clinics.  I wasn't given many medical alternatives, because of the mess of my medical file.  The surgeon got me back on WSIB and he worked with me until the first implant in 1991.

WSIB would pay thousands of dollars for three medical devices, called neurotransmitters to be bolted to my spine, wires hooked up to my nervous system, and a receiver placed in my abdomen.  These devices made by Medtronic were being used by people with leg problems, nerve problems.  

WSIB would pay for six operations without question, and without question they paid for the botched operation in 1998 which left me with the electricity running down my legs, leaving me with walking problems, during the operation, the machine wasn’t tested as it was supposed to be, as it had been tested in the 1991 operation.

When I returned to the surgeon in 1998, his demeanor had changed, he sat across the room from me, refusing to help, the surgeon wouldn’t fix this problem he caused, writing a report to my doctor telling me to live with pain, or paralysis.  That wasn’t an option…

I had to find a new surgeon, and he did an x-ray to confirm the wires were not positioned properly as per the 1991 x-ray, but he refused to help me, telling me it was a conflict of interest, as the previous surgeon was a colleague of his.  He wouldn’t fix the wires, and told me to return to the surgeon, as he knew by this time the relationship between us was strained to say the least.  Now I was back in medical madness and I had another bigger issue to deal with and no medical help.

I would find out years later after requesting my medical file from WSIB in 2006.  Reading through my Workers Compensation medical file, I would find out what happened in the first operation, that left me with nerve damage….and that I was the first experimental guinea pig that would have this placed in my thoracic area.  

WSIB will not recognize the further injuries I incurred due to the rib being removed, ignored, they still paid for each operation without talking to me, or questioning the validity of the devices I would have to wear.  The surgeon sent a letter to WSIB in 1989 saying that “nothing intrusive should be done.” Yet, he put this machine on my spine?  NOBODY QUESTIONED THE HELL I WENT THROUGH.

I ran on 750 amps daily 24/7.  Even Medtronic said that was a high voltage….8 volt batteries ran out in less than 2 hrs.  I had to order industrial batteries by the box.   Once the machine was turned on the force of the electricity stopped the pain.  I was able to get off all medication, and return to the workforce within six months, retraining through the WSIB “labour re-entry.” And in 1992, I would start a new job and would spend the next six years trying to rebuild my life, trying to forget the losses….and the destruction. Forgetting I had a machine in my body…

I had three neurotransmitters put on my spine to stop the pain from nerve damage that WSIB to this day won't admit, or compensate me for. I’ve suffered memory loss, cataracts and my nervous system was fried after the 2008 malfunction, leaving me with sleeping issues, eating issues and major personality changes as well as deteriorating physically and mentally. 

After each operation, I was forgotten by WSIB, the surgeons, and Medtronic.  I learned to work and program the machine and worked with Medtronic representative for seven years until they malfunctioned.  Not once was I ever informed of the life expectancy, or the consequences of being electrocuted internally would have lost my life, had I not been at work that day, and if my co-workers had not unplugged the device.... someone has to care....

I broke my silence in 2015, going online at Cosmofunnel with my poem “Medical Madness” and the story of the device.  I found other people who are dealing with almost the same circumstances.  And my story has helped them make more informed decisions about wearing this device. 

I’ve been silent long enough, one-day justice will be had....and those accountable for my losses will meet my maker.... God have mercy on their souls.

MEDICAL MADNESS    

Memories plague me in the darkness

And as they rear their ugly head                                               

They only remind me of all that I’ve lost

My life, my freedom, and my children are dead

Dear God, please forgive my anger

For these transgressions that I see

All the medical madness that I have lived through

Almost got the better of me

I have no more need for food or sleep

What I crave most are the sun and air

When I look out the window of my sanctuary

I see no signs of the truth anywhere out there

Dear God, it's you I've turned to the most

For answers, courage, and faith

And as I read these medical reports of cruelty

Anger washes over me, replacing the hate

My Lord, I have, but five days to go

Can I hold onto the hope that he'll come to my aid?

I can't close my eyes, I can't find any peace

From the pain these doctors continually create

I see clearly such torture in one operation

And I shake with the echo of hearing my pleas

During the procedure, I felt what they were doing

And when I slipped into unconsciousness, fear followed me

When I woke up in recovery, I felt only doom

All I've done for so long was cry, plead and beg

Now I felt something more when I turned on my machine

The electricity was not reaching my back but was running down both my legs

The same surgeon that implanted the first medical device on my spine 

Made an error, turned his back, ignoring my pain

And as I read his remarks in my medical file

It leaves me reeling in sorrow, reeling in shame

Once again, I was sent back to my prison of silence

I lost the job that I loved and my friends of nine years

I had to find a new surgeon, but no one would touch me

And each night I lay down, I slept on my pillow of tears

It took three long years to find another surgeon

He said he would reposition the wires, and put them in place

He smiled as he spoke and promised to help me

I smiled back through my fear, as I looked at his face

I believed what he promised, but I felt like a fool

As I waited daily in my bed for his call

Severe depression took over, and as days turned into months

My doctor couldn't reach him, and I was climbing the walls

My doctor's husband took over and went to his office

Not leaving until he got my surgery date

Workers Compensation harassed me, wouldn't leave me in peace

They wanted me working, and they wouldn't wait

The day finally came; I had my fifth operation

Another surgeon opened me up, creating a mess

When I woke up much later, I felt such foreboding

When I turned on my machine, I screamed from the stress

Something was wrong with the wiring; the current was closer

But, still gave me no comfort as it had done before

I looked up at the surgeon, feeling lost and sedated

I asked God, how I would get over being sliced open once more

Two weeks later, I was back for my sixth operation

God helped me prepare my mind for what was to come

The wires were fixed, and it was finally over

I went home feeling gratitude for what had been done

Alone with my sorrow, my mind and body felt mangled

I recovered slowly a few more years gone

I asked God for assistance in clearing my heart

I tried to forgive the ones who had done me wrong

Five years passed quickly, lost in depression and pills

I needed Workers Compensation to help me update my skills

The office software had changed from five years ago

I asked my caseworker for help but received a flat, "No."

I was still in grave shock as I hung up the phone

There was no one beside me; I was completely alone

I needed some hope I then called her manager

And the kindness in his voice helped sooth some of my anger

I paid into this system from the time I was ten

Workers Comp cared nothing about me or the hell I'd been in

When I asked them for help, their stoic response caused me shame

They still said I was faking, writing I had "low back pain"

 I questioned my disability pension asking what that was based on

When I showed them the truth, they treated me like an ex-con

Why would I have to lie, or pretend to have pain?

They paid me meager wages; I had nothing to gain

The neurotransmitters they paid thousands for, electrocuted me twice

They would have paid for a fourth, but I had a choice

My adjudicator asked me nothing, and they cared even less

That my depression got worse, and my body and mind were a mess

When I cried on the phone, they had no empathy

They said those were the rules; they had to follow policy

I had to hustle and find a job, even though I was a wreck

Other resources wouldn't help me, and they cut off my cheque

It's been twenty-nine years and all that I know

Are the mangled scars on my back, and nothing to show

I still fight this corrupt Workers Comp system that refuses to care

And each day I still ask God, what's the reason I'm still here…

© Brenda Keough     March 13, 2014

The in-betweens of an injured worker's life matters......my life is more than a destructive thought….more than a label, and more than a disability...... 

What kept me going was knowing God was on my side and helping me stay alive.   

Know that you are entitled to see your medical file.  If I didn't investigate my file in 2006, I would never know how much damage the WSIB caused by their misleading reports.  Each new adjudicator that came and went knew nothing about my true injury in the beginning, and there was nothing in the front of my report to tell them otherwise.  All they saw were the reports that circulated around written by the adjudicator's and managers.....nothing I said mattered.

It's been thirty-one years and I'm still on Temporary Total Disability, being paid $499 for a disability pension, and a $6 hr...supplement. Despite my working at two new jobs that paid me higher wages.   

WSIB swept each electrocution under the mat, as they did with each operation.  They barely have any information on my true injury.....and they still treat me like a con.....

We should not be injured further by ignorance.  I should never have lost so much, my family, my children, and new jobs......justice is not just a word.....

 

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