STYLE
Quiet
Loud
Muted
Whisper
Scream


RECENT ENTRIES
Remembering Why
Can You Feel A Little Love?
Just Like Every Day
Holes In The Head
He Said She Said


ARCHIVES
February 2005
January 2005
December 2004
November 2004
October 2004
September 2004
August 2004
July 2004
June 2004
May 2004
April 2004
March 2004
February 2004
January 2004
December 2003
November 2003
October 2003
September 2003
August 2003
July 2003
June 2003
May 2003
April 2003
March 2003
February 2003
January 2003
December 2002
November 2002
October 2002
September 2002
August 2002
July 2002
June 2002
May 2002
April 2002
March 2002
February 2002
January 2002
December 2001
November 2001
October 2001
September 2001
August 2001
July 2001
June 2001
May 2001
April 2001
March 2001
February 2001
January 2001
December 2000


OTHER VOICES


MISCELLANEOUS
Webcam

This Is Why

The week has been filled mostly with huge bills for things like four new tires for Ferris, new brakes and rotors for both front and back on the van, a new water pump for the van, and today, new front brakes and rotors for Ferris. The list just goes on.

The attorney called to tell Terry they don't have the time to devote to our case. Six months later. So yesterday I had to sit and think really hard about what I wanted to do about all of it. I could just drop the whole thing, let it go, and try to forget it ever happened. Though money would certainly help us out, it has never and will never be the motivation behind a lawsuit.

I wouldn't be the one to get that money anyway. I have already signed a paper saying that in order for the insurance company and my husband's employment to keep paying my medical expenses, which are now way up over the $400k mark according to my estimation looking at the EOBs, the insurance company will be entitled to any and all reimbursement should damages be awarded to me anyway.

This isn't about money. This is about the snide attitude of the doctor when this happened. This is for him saying to my husband as I lay there dying, "I didn't give her an AVM." As if the AVM which I no longer even had in my body was the reason I was laying there in ICU with my organs all failing.

This is for acting like everything I just went through had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he cut a hole in my colon. This is for not even bothering to come out and ask my husband before he did it.

This is for him playing on my emotions for months beforehand and making me trust that he had saved my life last March when, in fact, he very well may have been the one who nearly killed me. This is for telling me he was going to take care of me and not to be afraid and then ripping my uterus out. This is for him not doing his job properly and making me go through months of constant bleeding, swelling and aching with no uterus and no good way to explain it.

This is for fucking me up, yet again, and then sending me home over the telephone even after I told him I hadn't went to the bathroom and was getting very uncomfortable from eating the food he had ordered me to have.

This is for not being able to breathe. This is for nine weeks of being stabbed repeatedly day in and day out in every part of my body, for no fucking reason.

This is for him smiling and waving at me from the other end of the hall as I tried to push my pole and walk and hold the hose coming out of my nose all at the same time.

This is for months of my life that are gone. This is for my children who didn't know if their mommy was ever coming home again.

This is for sleeping on ice and having tubes shoved up my arms and into my heart. This is for scopes shoved up my ass and barium contrast poured down my nose. This is for puking bile and not being able to swallow for nine weeks.

This is so that, at the very least, someone somewhere will know he did this to me and not let it happen to them. This is because I wish I could do everything to him that I had done to me. This is because I wish I could face him without crying and wanting to hide.

This isn't about money. He probably won't even get a mark on his record. This is about me looking him in the eye and making him think about exactly what his mistakes cost me emotionally and physically.

This is about scars, physically and emotionally, that will never ever go away. This is about my nightmares. This is about my children saying to me every day "Mommy, you aren't sick anymore? You are going to stay home and be the momma?" This is about my three year old's real belief that the boo boo's on mommy's belly are just going to "be all better and go away". This is for the months that no one in my house treated my ileostomy like it was anything out of the ordinary. This is for my husbands unconditional love and strength and how fucking hard it must have been for him.

That doctor will be lucky if, on top of his completely fucking me up, I don't bring up the fact that he constantly felt the need to call me pet names, hug me for uncomfortably long periods of time after my appointments, smell my hair and tell me how good I smelled. How could I have been so stupid? I actually thought he was just an overly nice guy. Leave it to me to overlook his behavior and really believe he was helping me. Yeah, he was helping me. He was helping me right into my fucking grave.

This is why I can't give up. It isn't the money. It is about making him responsible for his actions. Fucking arrogant son of a bitch.

So, I have an appointment with another attorney on Monday. I had to sit here for the last two days and type out the entire saga to email to his office. It is very hard for me because a lot of that time has become one big blurred nightmare. I did the best I could. I know I missed a lot of horrid details. It would be much easier to talk about it in person. I had a hard time talking about it on the phone. I got emotional a couple of times. It isn't easy to talk about. In fact, it was easier for me to talk about it while it was happening. I don't know why but I was a lot stronger during the whole thing than after it was done.

Posted by gwendolyn on June 03, 2003 at 02:41 PM