My Story - part 1

On July 15, 1995 my life as I knew it ended. I know that sounds melodramatic but as you read my story you will start to understand. I was 26 years old, a wife of 8 years, mother to 2 young children and I had just started my career as a RN. I had been going to school at night for the last 4 years to get my degree in nursing. That was not an easy feat at any time and trying to do it with 2 young children made it even tougher. I missed a lot of their life during those 4 years. Even though I was going to school at night it still required a lot of my time during the day. I had to study, I had to go to campus for a special class....anything could come up that was related to school that took me out of the house during the day and then to classes at night. I hated missing so much with them but I kept telling myself that I am doing this for them and their future. If I knew then what I know now I would have dropped out in a second and spent that very special time with them and enjoyed them like I should have. I would have made it to more soccer games, run with them, gone trick or treating all the things that I was soon going to be unable to do with them ever again.

I finally graduated and passed my nursing boards. I graduated in December of 1994 and got my first and last job as a nurse in May of 1995. I loved being a nurse. I loved having a career. This was something that I had wanted for as far back as I can remember. That time was very peaceful now that I look back at it. Little did I know that it was the calm before the storm. I was working on July 15, 1995. We were working short again and things were hectic. I was coming out of a patients room thinking of all the things that I still had to do when I fell. My feet just flew out from under me and I crashed to the floor in a patients room. I didn't find out until later that what I slipped on was some spilled oatmeal on the floor. I knew I had hurt myself but didn't think it was too bad yet. I worked the rest of that day and the first few hours of my shift the next day before I couldn't take the pain anymore and had to seek medical help.

It is amazing the difference in the way Doctors treat you when they hear the words "worker's comp". I had surgeries and therapies but I was not getting any better. In fact, things were getting worse. My doctors didn't know what was wrong with me so they decided that there was nothing wrong with me. I just didn't want to work. So, 9 months after my fall workers comp pulled the rug out from underneath me and stopped paying my medical bills & the small pay that I was allowed. I was left with nothing because a doctor (and I use that word loosely) said that there was nothing wrong with me and I could go back to work with no restrictions. GO BACK TO WORK!!! I was still on crutches and had not been able to work or drive since the day after I fell. If I went back to work I would not only be putting my own safety and health in danger but I would have been jeopardizing the safety of my patients. I had to resign from my job. It was either that or I would be charged with job abandonment and could have lost my license.

Now that worker's comp was no longer covering me my health insurance would now pick up the bills (I was lucky, my husband at the time was able to carry me on his health insurance). I was able to see Dr's that I chose, ones that actually wanted to find out what was wrong with me and fix it. It took the first Dr I saw to see that I had a major injury to my right knee and that I needed reconstructive surgery to fuldn't let anyone even touch it. When my therapist said she thought I had RSD and she was going to contact my ortho Dr asap to let him know what she thought, I cried. There was a name for what I had. I wasn't going crazy. It was real. It took 2 years from the time of my injury till I had an answer for what was wrong with me. Unfortunately, I found out later that it was 1 1/2 yrs too late. The only thing that stops this monster is a nerve block but it has to be done within 6 months of the onset of symptoms for it to even have a chance of reversing the RSD. For me it was too late.ix it. After the surgery I was going to physical therapy when one of the therapists noticed that my leg was not getting better. My 3 month post op knee looked and worked like a 3 week post-op knee. It had been looking pretty funny for a long time by then. It would swell up like a balloon, it would turn blue and then such a deep shade of purple that it almost looked black. But, the worst was the pain. The constant, unrelenting pain. The burning, stabbing constant pain. I was in so much pain that even the breeze from a paddle fan would send me through the roof. I co