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Politicized

July of 1999 - Looks Me In The Eyes

As my neurosurgeon, who had just quit his practice six hours earlier, made the unexpected declaration about his decision, a wave of uncertainty washed over. His faith in my character felt reassuring, yet I sensed the urgency in his voice as he recommended a renowned colleague for my upcoming surgery.

Ignoring his insistence on immediate action, I delayed my treatment for a few days, resulting in a fortunate yet precarious outcome when the new surgeon successfully performed the operation. However, unbeknownst to me, a lurking staph infection began to take hold, casting a shadow over my recovery and leading me into an unexpected battle for my health.

Staph Infection

Upon returning home from the hospital, a week later, I found myself gripped by a level of pain I had never experienced before. My hometown hospital conducted an incorrect MRI, prompting an ambulance transfer to my operative surgeon's facility.

Upon reviewing the new MRI, my surgeon exploded with frustration where he ordered another MRI. As days dragged on, I endured excruciating agony that left even IV Morphine ineffective; only IV Demerol provided any relief. However, just as hope surged with a proposed treatment plan involving Botox injections in my spine, it was thwarted by poltical interests that complicated my recovery and left me in a state of uncertainty.

Looks Me In The Eyes, Again

Weeks later, my personal physician sat across from me, his gaze intense and serious as he urged me to pay close attention to what he had to say. He revealed that my staph infection was not a natural occurrence but rather had been deliberately introduced, escalating the severity of my situation. The revelation hit hard as he explained that the infection had inflamed one of my internal organs to three times its normal size in mere days, a condition that had to have been excruciatingly painful. He marveled at my survival, underscoring that this dire twist was entirely beyond my surgeon's control, leaving me grappling with the unsettling implications amidst my ongoing struggles.

Hippocratic Oath

Bell Atlantic's and Verizon's out-of-state corporate medical contractor, CORE, reached out to me. I was informed about a scheduled second opinion; however, they made it clear that finding a doctor willing to "override" my current surgeon had proven challenging. The only option was a specialist in a remote West Virginia town, which the contractor claimed was too far for me to travel in my condition and urged me to refuse the appointment. A contractor's infamous reputation for being ruthless was telling me to refuse? However, I felt a deep commitment to the Hippocratic Oath, so I accepted the procedures and scheduled the visit.

Italy, Spain, Venezuela & India

As his nurse pleaded with him to cease his harsh remarks, the so-called "overriding orthopedic physician" launched into an unrestrained criticism targeting both my primary care physician and the operating surgeon involved in my care. His inquiries about my ethnicity and my doctors' countries of origin—Italy, Spain, Venezuela, and India—further underscored a disturbing bias, as he seemed to use this information to discredit my surgeon, dismissing his youth and experience.

In a dramatic turn, he out rightly contradicted my treating surgeon, leaving the physician helpless and resigned as he could only wash his hands of the situation. I was stranded in a room with a man who wielded authority where we were left alone to navigate the unsettling aftermath.

Tough Times Don't Last Tough People Do

After multiple visits to various facilities where my post-operative condition was consistently deemed irreversible, I found myself reflecting on a metaphor from Johns Hopkins, which described my situation as a "charred forest after a forest fire," posing the daunting question of where to even begin rebuilding.

Amidst this desolation, I stumbled upon the book "Tough Times Don't Last, Tough People Do," which ignited a spark of resilience within me, inspiring me to seek new possibilities. With renewed determination, my wife and I discovered a highly regarded orthopedic therapist in Pennsylvania, who dedicated significant time to studying my condition, assessing my movements, and reviewing my medical history, offering a glimmer of hope for my next steps.

Politicized

The orthopedic therapist diagnosed my condition as a result of chronically shrunken and shortened deep shoulder-to-trunk muscles, which had led to an alarming pull of my right pelvis and shoulder together. He explained that the treatment plan proposed by my then-operative surgeon would have been effective if implemented at the acute onset of my issues.

He attributed my current compromised state to the earlier interference from the "overriding orthopedic surgeon", highlighting how my health had become politicized in the process. This realization echoed warnings that CORE had tried to communicate to me many months prior, a stark reminder of how external influences had complicated my recovery journey.

I Mean, Like Hercules Better

The orthopedic therapist devised a comprehensive plan that included a team of specialists and months of intense rehabilitation, which I approached with determination and a focus on the home exercises he provided. Remarkably, I achieved a Herculean physical recovery, ultimately regaining a fitness level better than I had in my early 20s.

My primary care physician was astounded by this transformation, even dubbing me a "Documented Medical Miracle" for successfully overturning the grim diagnoses given by some of the world's most prestigious institutions. As word of my recovery spread, I became a beacon of hope in my community, leaving some stunned and speechless, with my name frequently mentioned during their visits as a testament to what is possible against overwhelming odds.

Ballroom Dancing

We embarked on a vibrant new chapter of our lives, purchasing a stunning 1956 Imperial, which I confidently told my wife would "change our lives." Alongside this, I bought a Virago motorcycle, creating unforgettable memories as she rode with me, and I committed to taking up ballroom dancing, an activity I unexpectedly grew to love.

A physician marveled at not only my remarkable medical recovery but also my ability to hold onto everything—dreams, activities, and relationships. Yet, the years ahead would reveal greater truths and insights, affirming his earlier observations and illuminating the profound journey that was just beginning for us.

Records Had Been Destroyed

In December 2002, I surprisingly accepted a promotion into Engineering at Verizon after the Human Resources department moved out of West Virginia. During a meeting, a higher-level Engineering Manager inquired about my credentials in front of a large group, which I found curious since Verizon already had my records.

My response stunned him when I revealed I possessed six Cisco Level Certifications, making me the top candidate out of 35 applicants. However, it soon became clear why he had asked; I was informed that all my corporate records, which were termed untouchable across five states, had been sent to Verizon Central Shredding instead of being stored at Verizon Central Storage, resulting in their Total Destruction.

Carbon Copies

Months later, I received a follow-up email, which was carbon copied to about 30 management and non-management employees, reiterating that all my corporate records had been destroyed. This revelation meant that not only were my credentials wiped from existence, but also the documentation pertaining to my politically managed medical ordeals from 1999 was lost forever. The email served as a stark reminder of how one's corporate life could be obliterated, years of professional and personal history, leaving me both bewildered and frustrated.

2002 Career-Wise & Privately

In December 2002, new entities and situations emerged that operated in unprecedented ways. By 2004, my optimistic wife suggested that I leverage the National attention I had garnered for AVLIMITED in the past to undertake a significant project for the State of West Virginia. Our ambitious plan involved restoring vintage cars, which we would showcase in our newly acquired large vintage vehicle garage, along with our international travels and connections. However, as neophytes in this venture, we were unaware of the geopolitical complexities that would eventually drive us to the brink amidst our unfolding aspirations.

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