Savagry

Posted on Thursday, June 28th, 2012 at 6:58pm CDT by 0108ac3a

Company: Not Available

Location: US

Category: Other

26 March 2012

My name is Mr. Lewis and I am an outpatient at Mercy Hospital, number J****9. It is my intention to outline in substantial but not exhaustive detail. The traumatic circumstance I endured while submitting myself into your hospitals care for repairing a hernia.

I am absolutely traumatized at the irresponsible indifference shown to me as I noted certain pain and extreme discomfort, notified the nurse in a timely fashion and then shrieked in horror from sunset till 1am in the morning from what was found out later to be a severe hematoma in my scrotum that no one seemed to believe was happening even though I was in so much pain, I could not unclench my teeth during most of the exhausting ordeal! There was more than enough time to alleviate the pain, get me examined and back into surgery 6-7 hours before but all signs and pleas were ignored. I actually got back there in an emergency just in the nick of time and before my scrotum exploded.

At around dusk, 12 March 2012, I asked the nurse if she could come to my recovery room, 1417, because the pain medication administered was having no effect after three hours. She asked me, because she was the night nurse, what medication I had been given. I was kind of askance seeing there should have been charts with all my pertinent information on them but obliged none the less. I had been given two Percocet and one Motrin. She acknowledged this, left and came back with the same dose. It was at this time I informed her again that I had taken that very same dose 3 hours ago and it did nothing for my pain. She was more reticent than cognizant of this fact and said I should take it. I told her I couldnt oblige because that would mean if I needed something stronger; I would have to endure the now escalating pain for another 5 hours which in my estimation was not an option because they would not compound medications. She asked me on a scale of 1-10 where was my pain, which at that time I told her was at 20. This seemed to go over her head for she still insisted I just take the medication. After about 30 minutes of this I acquiesced. In an hours time I told her that the medication, as the last dose, was insufficient for I was in extreme pain now. She again asked me on a scale of 1-10 where was my pain at that time. I responded that I was at 30. She left the room only to have me desperately summon her back after some time (approx. 45 mins). At that time the pain was excruciating and I was losing my composition. She asked some questions of the which I only remember her saying she would call a doctor or the doctor. An hour passed and I had tears in my eyes by then and was desperately pushing the button as many times as I could on the pain option as fast as I could. She again answered asking if she could help me and I asked her if the doctor had prescribed more medication. She didnt answer by the communicator but came in the room. I was begging her; I need to see a doctor. Please get me a doctor. She said she had called one but the rest was unintelligible for by then I was in maddening pain. Another period of time went by. I was thronging the pain button and crying full on unable to breathe well because the deep breathing exacerbated the pain so bad it made me scream which made the pain hurt more which made me scream more. She came in and kept telling me I needed to calm down while I was gripping the rails of my bed and in trauma. She kept trying to stick the thermometer in my mouth through teeth that I couldnt even get open much less open for her. Then she was gone again. I was leaning out of the bed now just begging for God to kill me basically because I could not endure this anymore. An unfamiliar amount of time went by when I notice a man at my bed lifting up my sheets and looking at my injury. He noted that the swelling of my testicles was more than average and then peppered me with a barrage of questions of the which I was shrieking so much so I could not fathom an answer or talk. Then another appeared then another and during the night they came in and out of my room dozens of times. One asked me at what time I took my last medication and what was it and I managed to scream, You have nurses and charts, why are you doing this to me? So he left the room. All in all, all they did was stand over me, ask the same questions and wait for answers arms folded looking at me. It reminded me of Mr. Spock of Star Trek or an automaton. All medication, times and description of problems were given to the nurse hours before they arrived yet they stood around me for hours seeing I could not answer through the excruciation of the pain and refused to acknowledge that I was in pain. Asking, is it you cant breathe or you are in pain? Or where is the pain? and a plethora of others. This was reprehensible! The casual indifference was astounding! Especially because afterwards it was realized why I was in such trauma to begin with. After about 4-6 hours of this they came in and said they were going to give me some pain medication and asked me if that was okay. I was cross-eyed by this time and losing consciousness, couldnt breathe, couldnt speak and couldnt scream anymore. I was just garbling. When the dilauded (sp?) took effect I asked the doctor, prefacing it by apologizing if it appeared rude, do you always stand over a man in screaming torment with his eyes begging you for help, if he can breathe or is he in pain? I mean I cant for the life of me understand why someone would do such a thing. At which time he left and the lab-tech came in to do my vitals. It was at such time I felt the covers, incrementally slipping off my scrotum and took a look. I no longer had a penis. What I had instead was a balloon with a cap on top of it. I notified the lab-tech to tell the doctors just outside my door, that I was about to explode all over my loins. They ignored her. I asked her to tell them it was an emergency, that they get in my room immediately and, nothing. Not a response, not a reaction. She then asked the nurse to tell the doctors at which time they responded, came in to the room, said it was internal bleeding and noted they needed to get Dr. Fitzpatrick in for emergency surgery I had bled into my scrotum which was by this time, almost transparent, black, dying, cracking skin and horribly disfigured. It was also at this time, to my horror I couldnt believe my eyes but there it was. I was observing a cast system, full, intact and fully operational. People around the hospital confirmed this when they told me if you dont have letters after your name, people look down upon you and treat you as an inferior. I was aghast! I was being treated like an inferior, an insignificant and so was she. As if we were on the bottom of this hierarchy, an inconvenience. I was the one who shrieked for 5+ hours until they so graciously decided to administer what they had been called in for 5+ hours prior. Because I felt the covers literally sliding off my scrotum as they ballooned to the size of a cantaloupe. Even Dr. Fitzpatrick said, at the climax of this debacle, that he had never seen anything like this in his life except once, maybe ten years ago.

My consideration is because most surgical teams dont stand around allowing a patient to scream in torment for 5+ hours doing absolutely nothing about it, leaving the room contingent on they have stopped screaming and can now talk. All the while not doing anything to help that patients torment. They usually have the wherewithal to realize this person is in agony, lets do our job and stop the pain, look at his charts and his wounds because he obviously cant talk. Thats why hes never seen my trauma before. One can only hope.

At the climax of this debacle, I was looking at a balloon with a cap on top of it, my penis was literally gone, there was no shaft for it had been totally consumed by the hematoma. The actual shaft skin, which is much smaller in diameter than the scrotum. Had ballooned also, into this huge dirigible now existing in my lap. Is there any wonder now why I could not speak as I slowly grew to explosion incrementally over the course of 6-7 hours?

In the medical report written by Linda Wasilijov, she wrote: This man had undergone a inguinal hernia operation about 12-15 hours previously, had developed a significant swelling, a probable hematoma, in his right groin wound extending down into his scrotum. This was recognized and clearly thought to be a hematoma or an issue, and he is brought urgently [which is laughable] in to the operating room at this time. [Approx7-8 hours after I told the nurse while it was still light outside and at about 2am]. He was an inpatient fortunately. [Which is incredulous! They removed,] we evacuated about 300 or 500ml of clot. It appeared that the epicenter the bleeding was actually from the scrotum itself. There was more fresh blood in the scrotum. .It appeared that what was bleeding was the distal end of some cremasterics that had been divided with electrocautery. [He accidentally touched something he shouldnt have and started the bleeding 12-15 hours earlier and closed me up with the bleeding oozing.] I have not seen anything like this before, but there was a well-developed area of cremaroterics that was simply oozing. The operative blood loss was about 25 or 50ml. Again there was a probable 300-500ml of clot in the wound. (16.19oz or over a pint)

This is what I was feeling swelling incrementally in my genitals, what was ignored and what made me wail, heaving for hours to irresponsible, indifferent ears and callous staff members. I was distraught! Everyone that wanted to know, during the aftermath, that asked about what happened was told. As a result, Mrs. Ann P, of Patient relations, received numerous e-mails from various nursing staff members about this and was in my recovery room the next day inquiring and taking notes. When it came time to discharge me (a day later?), I could not walk but the hospital were insistent I do so for I was going to be discharged that afternoon. This is iniquitous! I saw, two day shift nurse floor managers and both were speechless and aghast at the atrocity and could not believe what had happened. In the emergency room they made sure I got what I needed as far as medication was concerned and some held my hand, comforting me and just saying over and over, You poor man, how could they? over and over, astounded at the ordeal, while the A surgical team of Dr. Fitzpatrick came in and out of my room twice, once down in the emergency room cubicle and once in my recovery room. Asked how I was doing, didnt like my explanation, blew off the story about the pain, spoke over me saying well pain is part of the process and left, trickling out one by two without so much as a sorry or good bye. One of the interns actually started shouting at me when issuing me discharge ultimatums back in my recovery room, of the which I answered 8 times to her constituent (the only man who apologized to me kneeling at my bedside hours before my discharge giving me discharge information.) and of the which she insisted leaning over to me, after telling him to leave the room when I had stated I could not and did not want to talk to her any longer. Almost face to face yelling the prescription for the answer she wanted to hear from me. I was aghast! She talked over me the entire time I spoke, denigrated me and walked out the room while I was in mid speaking and telling her she was irreverent. After this, I received a visit from Dr. Fitzpatrick at which time he checked me bare handed, I insisted the pain was way too excruciating to be touched, he touched any way and I almost went through the roof, he said okay and gave me a pat/caress/fondle on my swollen scrotum real casual and stealthily as I screamed, Please! Please! PLEASE! almost moving to knock his hand off my molten loins, to which he replied in a droning, Alright. then departed. At this time the day nurse floor manager came in the room and enquired of my condition and I explained to her what had just transpired with the interns. She notified me she was going to message Mrs. P again but I tried to talk her out of it. None the less, there she was again. The light in all this darkness, Mrs. P, asking about that situation. Subsequently and like clockwork, that afternoon, unable to walk from a nearly exploding scrotum and barely standing, I was discharged. Mrs. Pk said she would call me later and I left the building.

I was scheduled to see Dr. Fitzpatrick in 10 days. Before going in I called Mrs. P to ask for a patient advocate to be in the room for the examination. During the conversation she said she had met with the surgical team and Dr. Fitzpatrick and had some notes, asked if she could call me back because she had to locate her notes from the meeting and I obliged. But before hanging up, I asked her for the advocate information. She expressed she didnt know of such a thing and wasnt sure but would find out when she called back with her notes. When she called back I was talking to a different person. She basically said, Dr. Fitzpatrick was the head of the surgical team and department and all complaints would have to go through him. I was astonished. I told her I complained to him the day of and he blew it off and did nothing but explain it away in lieu of what was going on at that moment. No apology, no explanation, no you are lucky you didnt explode but the record showed me that the chronicler of the operation said I was lucky to have been on property. Or in her words, He was in inpatient fortunately. When it was fortunate that I could wail that long even after such a surgery and with internal bleeding. So basically, there was nothing Mrs. P could do but turn me back into the hands of my interrogators and torturers.

At the follow up examination, on 23 March 2012 at 9:30am, I tried to get at least two people to go with me and phoned in for a patient advocate but being from Bethesda and not having anyone in Baltimore to go with me, alone and extremely apprehensive, I went for my check up with Dr. Fitzpatrick. I was not comfortable at all, not certain what this man was going to do to me, didnt sleep the night before and had been in sheer agony all week long from my ordeal. I didnt want to go, and I most assuredly didnt want to go alone, but I had no choice. I was still in a lot of pain. By this time the pain wasnt a 30 anymore it was about a 10 on a scale of 1-10. As if that wasnt enough, when I went into the examination room, I asked the doctor succinctly, if I say something hurts, please stop because it hurts. At which time he was probing over the area with his finger tips and then actually finger punched me in the groin (precisely placed in my cremasterics.) muscle right in my injury. Yes, that is exactly what I said you are not seeing things.

At this time, please indulge me and allow me to introduce myself. My name is Mr. Lewis. I am a trained martial artist. I was trained by the Father of US Tae Kwon Do, Grand Master Jhoon Rhee.

I know what battery is. I teach martial arts. This is to say I know what Dr. Fitzpatrick did was a well placed blow using a finger punch jab at my groin wound connecting my femur to my body cavity near the scrotum striking; hard. So hard my leg jumped, retracting in reaction to the blow but so stealthy he didnt need to use much arm force. I demanded to know why he punched me in the groin. Of course he protested profusely at the time but that doesnt change what happened. He denied it successively and was in the midst of his rhetoric as his assistant came in to the room. While any professional would enquire as to; did that hurt? Where? Im sorry I didnt mean to apply that much pressure I will try to be more careful and honor the fact you have been severely traumatized. He just denied it and yelled at me over and over. I couldnt believe it. Then, he removed the bandages as though he were pulling off duct tape hand over hand or masking tape, like reeling in a fish. It was loud and prominent as it raised my skin off my abdomen, making loud tearing noises. I yelped in painful reaction. He then just flopped down some gauze and just make shifted another bandage, said some words and retreated out of the room. This is iniquitous! There was no reason for this, no reason for him to feel put off because I told people what happened and in my estimation, a direct retaliation for some imagined sleight to his ego. His actions were hostile, abrupt and direct. I know what a finger jab is and in the right place, a joint, throat, gland, it can be quite lethal. I dare say he left a fingernail mark on my skin. I am going to have it examined for that. Needless to say, I still need to come back for a follow up visit to have the staples removed. This is not going to happen! I will not be coming back to this man or surgical team for any follow up examinations. I am very afraid of what he will do once this letter becomes an issue with Mercy Hospital and dread further, escalated retaliation from him. I am done with the abuse, trauma and stress I have suffered at the hands of malcontented misanthropes. There are definitely jewels in your organization. As I said this is by no means an exhaustive evaluation but I have been waiting all weekend to just get this much down through so many notes, so little sleep and so much trauma. I cannot believe what has happened to me. Its not enough I almost hemorrhaged and exploded with over a pint of blood and clot in an area not meant to be expanded 10 times its normal size and my penis shaft swallowed up in a humongous blob of clot and blood, tearing itself apart in slow, torturous agony anyone could see but these people over the course of hours of searing, maddening agony! But because I was traumatized, reported the situation to the right people and people asked to know. Dr. Fitzpatrick was called in to a meeting and subsequently assaults me in retaliation stealthily while examining me, catching me so totally off guard he literally took my breath away?

I can assure you without a doubt that whether I am successful or not in gaining an audience with responsible parties there who can address this issue to my satisfaction, plus get a personal apology from the doctor. I am going to make known this belligerent, impertinent effrontery to any and all authority capable of satisfying my desire to feel relieved that this traumatic ordeal has been addressed properly, thoroughly, exhaustively and/or publically on the chance that it was done to someone else who has no voice, are too afraid to speak up or are someone who might have to deal with it in the future.

I want to make this absolutely clear; it is not my intention to threaten anyone. It is my intention, however, to verbalize the horror I endured as my loins almost exploded in my face while being callously observed, making every effort to get help yet ignored for over 5 hours in wailing agony! Only to be retaliated against for complaining about it with a finger punch to the groin on an injury that was internally bleeding 10 days prior? When I am done, I will make believers out of you all and he will confess. I promise you, you will know who that man is, for this is exactly who he is. His A team reflects it. They look down on people; or they consider people on the same staff insignificant because, they dont have letters after their name (PhD, MMA, DDS) whatever? (fore they blew off the lab-tech when I told her to implore them to get in to my room it was an emergency!)You have my chronicles and my sincerest apologies you have had to learn about someone on your senior staff this way. But how else would you find out if someone responsible didnt tell you. This could very well be very hard for you to believe, but that you cant believe it is all part of the comradely and the empathies that come with those associations. But that doesnt negate the fact it did happen!!! In essence, if I had not noticed the bleeding, my scrotum would have ruptured and I would have exploded all over the sheets. So I basically saved my own life due to my awareness of this debacle.

Sincerely

Mr.. Lewis

J****9


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