I've been in this current cell for almost exactly 4 years. But my sentence was handed down 11 years ago this Wednesday. it started out as a usual day at the county school i worked for as a medical assistant to the nurse. what's kind of interesting is that i had been diagnosed with fibromyalgia, almost exactly 11 years before that day. the date was; November 19, 1997. it was only about 2 hrs. into my day, when the nurse said she had to leave for a while and was expecting a call, to make sure i listen for the phone while out of the office. i was about 75 feet outside the office, rearranging a supply closet, when i heard our line ringing and quickly put down a box and ran to catch it. (never run at work, lol) the plastic mat that was under the desk had been pulled out about a foot for some reason, i always assumed the janitor had done it while cleaning and just forgot to put it back. the heel of my shoe caught the edge of the mat and in the blink of an eye; BAM! i was down. My full body weight came down on my left knee, and we're talking a full 5'7", 165 lbs. of me. i did manage to reach up and get the message for the nurse, lol! Within 5 minutes the nurse came back and saw me sitting on the floor behind the desk chair, my hose were torn and my knee had already swollen up pretty huge and was a purple/blue color. if you do happen to get hurt at work, it's always a good idea to have a nurse, lol!
She had me iced & bandaged in record time. Of course the supervisor was there in record time also! She had me off to the insurance's doctor for the obligatory x-ray's and chat with the hack. Sorry doc's, no offense but any of you who lie to the insurance co. for the extra dough is a lot worse than the word i used.
the xray tech saw a hairline fracture, so did the doctor; at first! instead he diagnosed it as a contusion! what is that anyways? a glorified bruise?
I had gone back to work the same day as the fall, on limited duty, which was just my regular job without going to check on the classrooms or any other miscellaneous work.
i was in the process of fighting for my job. I had been hired on as a temporary employee and now, after 7 months on the job, they opened my position up to be a full-time position. But, already being in the position didn't matter, they were accepting applications and I had to apply and be interviewed like everyone else.
Amazingly (NOT!) they interviewed me a few weeks after the fall, and I was not hired! Gee! I wonder why? ha!
My husband at the time; Donovan, was a big, dark and very good-looking man, 4 years my junior. He was getting ready to lose his job at the same time, (again!) He never could keep a job.
But, thankfully we had my workers' comp. checks, though it was hardly enough to live on, especially for 3 people; My son, Vincent (from a previous marriage) was 8 years old at the time. Although I may be biased: He is and was the greatest kid ever! He's always been so sweet and way more intelligent than myself, thankfully! We ended up moving into our best friends' apartment. They had a spare room and the 3 of us moved into it. They had one of those bunk beds, where the lower bunk is a double and the upper a single. So, it actually worked out well for us. Though those living conditions are difficult in any situation, so we were able to move in less than a year.
In the following 8 months (from January - august, 1998)
I was sent to a specialist because my "Contusion" wasn't quite healing the way it should. After many tests and extensive history given, the doc performed a relatively minor surgery on my knee called; Arthroscopic. This was June 30, 1998. About 2 weeks following the surgery I began a horrid 6 week regimen of Physical Therapy 3 times a week.
by the time that torture (too melodramatic?) was over with the pain in my left knee had escalated to near intolerable levels. Not only that but, my left foot and right knee were joining in too! It's true~I swear!
When I went in to see the specialist for our final visit, after P.T. was completed I decided to be honest with him about the strange spreading pain. I really expected to be told to go to a Psychiatrist, it sounded crazy even to my friends, family and myself!
But, I gotta admit, even over 10 years and 7 really bad doctors later, he was kind and understanding. He asked me more questions, examined the other joiners and stated to his nurse; (paraphrased) 'it looks to me like Sympathetic Dystrophy'. His nurse agreed and I, the drama queen stated through tears, "I'm not crazy"! Then Dr. K told me that I was far from crazy that this condition was very much real and the sympathetic part of the name meant that it was some kind of dysfunction of the sympathetic nervous system. I was floored!
Dr. K. told me that it needed to be treated right away, therefore I should see my primary doctor and get the ball rolling, so to speak.
As I lay here after moving from California to Oregon, being homeless for 2 months in very rainy, cold, wet weather, then wrecking our only vehicle, (not to mention the whip lash which, I believe to have played a large roll in causing the spread to include all 4 limbs) going from a 165 lb. walking, self-reliant fairly young, wife and mother to a 220 lb.,(who knew all the drugs and sedentary lifestyle would cause weight gain? not me!) divorced, wheelchair-bound, bed-ridden mother of: (( still a wonderful, but now an almost 19 y.o.; (his birthday is this Thursday) first year college student.)) totally dependent on others to do almost everything for me-----10 years later.
Wow~! that was a wordy bit, huh? Well, if there's anyone left reading this background nonsense, I will now begin my intended story of;
my life alone in my cell......
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