Don't know why I'm writing. Just unloading some pent up emotions, I guess. My husband and I were married in '93. He started having back problems (lumbar degenerative disc disease) around '97. Had two back surgeries which did nothing to help. Became totally bedridden on Jan. 1, 2001. Was waiting for his third back surgery (with a different doctor from the one who did his first 2). His back surgery wasn't scheduled until the beginning of March. In spite of the fact that he was bedridden in extreme pain, they didn't move up the date of his surgery. They just kept putting him on more and different pain meds. Because he developed a respiratory condition six months after we were married, the docs were supposed to be more careful of what pain meds they put him on, and the dosages. To make a long story short, my husband died on Feb. 21, 2001, after having been completely bedridden for almost two months. My two youngest (5 and 6) were home alone with him at the time. Our car had died a week earlier and I had gone to borrow my sister-in-laws for one of the kids' doctor appointments later that day. I was gone for about 45 minutes. My kids apparently went in to say goodbye to him before heading off to
school, but found him dead in bed. I came home to find the kids at the bus stop and my neighbor flagging me down to tell me, "Your kids came to the bus stop crying this morning and saying, 'I think my daddy's dead.'" About a week or so later, when I got the autopsy results, I couldn't believe it. I asked people, "How in the world can a 35 year old man who was mostly healthy other than his back pain, just die from pneumonia??" Around April of that same year, I consulted with a lawyer. The gist of it all was the inadequate care and attention he got in regard to the pain meds and the respiratory condition he had (which had been under control for several years). The laywer said we had a case. Remember, that started in April 2001. The years pass and the lawyer notifies me that she has an expert witness and we're scheduled to go to trial in Jan. 2007. Finally...after just about six years, we will get a chance to send a message to the medical community through all this. October 2006 (three months before trial) rolls around and then my lawyer tells me that the expert witness backed out, so we have no case anymore. Boom. Just like that. Oh, sure, I had the option of trying to find another lawyer, bringing that lawyer up to speed and him/her getting things ready for a trial...all within three months time, if I wanted to. That wasn't even a realistic possibility! So, almost seven years later, I sit here wondering what is wrong with our legal system that a person who spills hot coffee on themselves at a fast food place can sue for a million and it's ok. Or a burglar who falls through a roof while pulling a job can sue the homeowner he's robbing and win. Yet the death of a young man who literally entrusted his life to his doctors means nothing. I know it sounds like I'm angry, but I'm not. I just believe in fairness and justice. I'm just really disappointed and hurt, I guess, to think that my husband's life could mean so little. If you're read this far, then.......thanks for listening to my ramblings. Sometimes it helps to just get if off my chest. : ) ~Laura~