We decided we were not going to stop fighting: A veteran’s suicide

Lance Corporal Jeffrey Lucey served in Iraq in 2003 and 2004, and returned home a changed person, according to his family. He had nightmares, insomnia, and deep depression, and began drinking heavily.

He told his sister he had picked out a rope to hang himself with. His family persuaded him to seek care through the Veterans Administration, where he admitted himself on May 28, 2004. He was placed in a locked psychiatric ward, but was released three days later. Two days later, he totaled the family’s car in what the family believes was a suicide attempt. A few days after that, his family persuaded him to return to seek treatment. He did so on June 5, but he was denied treatment, with no psychiatrist available, his family said. On June 22, he hanged himself in the basement of his family’s home in Belchertown, Massachusetts.

Now "the Lucey family has been an inspiration, a one-family advocacy group that has tried to bring a lot of visibility to suicide and to mental health issues for veterans," said Paul Riechkhoff, the executive director of Veterans of America. Veterans of America estimates that 117 Iraqi war veterans have killed themselves.

Jeffrey’s family has retained attorney Cristobal Bonifaz to file a lawsuit against the government in federal court in Springfield, Massachusetts. The attorney said the VA’s failure to recognize Jeffrey’s suicidal tendency amounted to negligence and medical malpractice by an overstressed, understaffed system.

Advice: Refer Iraq war veterans to Veterans of America.

You can read more in Charles Sennott’s story in the Boston Globe of July 27.

Drink some water and drive on, soldier: A veteran’s misdiagnosis

A Utah man is striving to live a full and rewarding life in the U.S. military after he was misdiagnosed with a condition that eventually led to the removal of part of his intestine.



Staff Sgt. Mark Taylor started experiencing abdominal pain that he did not receive on the battlefield.
 
He decided to get a colonoscopy to see if that would diagnose his problem, and had it done at a military hospital. The military doctor’s diagnosis: irritable bowel syndrome.

 "'Drink some water and drive on, soldier...'--that was their attitude about it," he says.



He followed his doctor’s orders and deployed to Germany and Kosovo. As a member of the reserves, Mark later discovered that his pain was getting worse. It turns out that he did not have irritable bowel syndrome. He had a more serious condition: ulcerative colitis. "
“By the time that I found out exactly what it was, my illness had progressed so far that it was pretty much incurable at that time," he said.
 
Having gone so long untreated, his condition had progressed to the point that surgeons had no other choice but to remove his entire colon. This sudden and dangerous turn put Mark in a fight for his life.

 As if ulcerative colitis wasn’t bad enough, doctors also diagnosed him with bacterial meningitis.

 "When you have a doctor tell you they don’t think they’re going to live…that’s really scary," said his wife, Jennifer. 

She knew that her husband was no quitter and that he would fight to survive.



Mark recovered and eventually decided to re-enter the military. 
"I really wanted to go back and take care of soldiers," he said.



Unearned suffering can be redemptive, as Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said. It is for Mark.

Advice to victims of medical error: Teach and help others after you learn from your suffering.

Read another of our veterans’ stories, or read the source story by Nicole Hunter and Doug Ware.

She received a bouquet of flowers: Veterans Administration Transitional Patient Advocate

Eric Kundert joined the Army in 2003 while still in his senior year of high school. His second tour of duty in Iraq was from January 2005 to August 2005 as a scout, during which time he was severely injured. The sniper shot entered the right side of Eric’s jaw just below the ear drum and exited out the left side. Both mandibles were fractured and his jaw was wired shut for about three weeks. He suffered significant hearing loss in both ears from nerve damage as well as traumatic brain injury, where he still has three contusions on the brain. It will take up to three years for them to heal.

He was initially treated in Baghdad, then was transferred to Landstuhl, Germany, and in September 2005 was sent to Walter Reed for over a year and a half of hospitalization. There he conducted intensive physical therapy to regain balance due to the hearing loss and residual effects of the brain trauma. He continues to have ear problems with fluid buildup and wears a hearing aid, which provides some hearing in his right ear. He has anxiety problems and difficulty sleeping.

Jeanne Button became Eric’s Transitional Patient Advocate as he finished the clearing process from the hospital on May 4, 2007. Jeanne was the first VA Transitional Patient Advocate to enter Walter Reed Medical Center. Now upon return, every combat vet is supposed to receive a point-of-contact person and case manager. Serious mentally or physically ill patients should also receive a Transitional Patient Advocate like Jeanne, to help them with the transition to civilian life. All soldiers apply for VA status and receive a physical and mental health assessment. They are discharged between 90-120 days after their return. Eric was officially medically retired from the Army on May 24.

"We treat first and sort out the other things later. If they’re calling us, we’re going to get them in," said Jeanne. "We assess the severity of the individual and try to help them as quickly as possible."

Because of Eric’s hearing loss and anxiety, she was especially helpful in the process, she said. "I was glad that I could be there with him, not only to learn the process, but to assist him through it. And I could tell that having a patient advocate with him made a difference on how he was treated."

Upon Eric’s homecoming to Broadhead, Wisconsin, Jeanne received a bouquet of flowers for her efforts.

Advice to returning veterans: Get an experienced patient advocate, even if it’s late in your recovery. Any veteran in need of assistance can call Jeanne Button, who works for the Veterans Health Administration, at 1-800-872-8662 ext. 61287 for guidance, support or services.

Read another of our returning veteran’s stories, or read Keith Zukas’ source story.

Now he wears a different helmet: A veteran’s access to care

A bomb buried in the asphalt road hit Army Sgt. Michael Boothby’s Stryker military vehicle on Sept. 17, leaving three pieces of shrapnel in the back of his brain. Doctors removed nearly half of his skull to prevent permanent damage to his brain from swelling.

By December, he was back home in Kerrville, Texas. But there were problems with the V.A.—a mix-up with his patient number that delayed his therapy. He entered a rehabilitation hospital in San Antonio, where he has received physical, occupational and speech therapy.

Now he wears a padded helmet for protection. It makes his head sweat—but it’s not as hot as Iraq.

Advice for family and friends of brain-injured patients: These patients need an advocate to represent them, until they’re fully mentally competent.

Read another of our veteran’s stories, or John Tedesco’s source story on April 22 in the San Antonio Express-News.

I didn't actually read it: Wrong site surgical error

Benjamin Houghton had much to be happy about. He was a father of four. He had survived metastatic testicular cancer, having received chemotherapy in 1989. He knew he could function normally with a single healthy testicle.

While there was no sign of the cancer’s recurrence, his left testicle was atrophied and painful, and there was a chance that it could harbor cancer cells, so he had surgery,, though it was not urgent. Surgeons mistakenly removed his healthy right testicle instead of the left, according to his lawsuit.

On the day of his surgery, the consent form stated that his right one should be removed, and a vasectomy performed on the left, when it should have read exactly the opposite. Benjamin didn’t have his glasses on. He explained, "The surgeon said, 'This is what we talked about before. Just sign here and here.' I didn’t actually read it." Benjamin, an Air Force veteran, did as the doctor ordered.

Lacking the testosterone from the healthy testicle, he may have future complications like sexual dysfunction, depression, fatigue, weight gain, and osteoporosis. He is suing for $200,000 for future healthcare costs and damages, hoping to get the healthcare system's attention, according to Attorney Susan Friery, MD.

Advice to surgical patients: Read the consent form carefully.

Read another veteran’s story, or read Mary Engel’s source story in the L.A. Times.

He was told to find his own way, he testified: Access to care

Wearing a black eye patch, Sgt. John Daniel Shannon testified to a House committee, convened at Walter Reed Medical Center in Washington DC on March 5. He described how he’d been struck in the head by a bullet from an AK-47 in November 2004 near Ramadi, Iraq. The injury caused a traumatic brain injury and cost him his eye.

He was returned to the U.S., and was already moved out of the hospital within a week of his injury. Though he still was extremely disoriented, they handed him a map and told him to find his own way to his new residence on the hospital campus. There, he waited several weeks for someone to contact him and tell him how to get additional treatment. He eventually called people himself until he reached his case worker. Staff in the bureaucracy lost his paperwork several times, and each time the brain-injured soldier had to start over.

So do we!

Advice for patients with complex needs: If your case worker doesn’t contact you promptly, perhaps you should demand a caseworker who will.

Advice for citizens: Express your opinion to the Commander in Chief at 202-456-1414.


Read our related Patient Safety Quiz, or read Michael Luo’s article, “Soldiers Testify over Poor Care at Walter Reed,” in the NY Times.

27,000 lawsuits - Ambushed by Merck: An adverse drug reaction

Frederick (“Mike”) Humeston is a tough guy, an ex-Marine who won two Purple Heart medals in Vietnam. By 2001, at age 61, he had gained some weight, and had high blood pressure. He testified that he was a healthy outdoorsman before the heart attack. But since then, he no longer can hike and lead canoe trips as a wilderness guide. He took Vioxx to dull the pain in his left knee, which was damaged by shrapnel in Vietnam. He took 54 Vioxx pills in the two months before his heart attack and two pills within hours of the incident.

He lost his first lawsuit. Then he was granted a second trial because of new evidence that even short-term Vioxx use could increase cardiac risks. Merck had repeatedly insisted that Vioxx didn't increase cardiac risks until after 18 months of use. On Friday, a jury unanimously ruled that Merck had committed consumer fraud by misleading doctors and patients and by intentionally suppressing, concealing or omitting information about the risks of Vioxx, which was withdrawn from the market in September 2004.

Advice to victims: Sometimes you need to get a good lawyer. And take the least medicine you need.

Advice for the NY Times headlines writer: “Mixed Verdicts for Merck [one win, one loss]” is like saying, “Half of the Bridal Couple Shows Up for Wedding.” The newsworthy event is the guilty verdict, especially when 27,000 lawsuits have been filed against Merck over Vioxx. We expect big pharma companies will be found innocent of fraud. Or do we?

Read another lawsuit story. Or read the sources: Andrew Pollack’s NY Times story,or Linda Johnson's account, or Marc Kaufman’s Washington Post article in Nov. 2005.

Fortunately for me, he didn’t listen: Missed diagnosis

It took Madison, North Carolina resident Peter Griffin nearly 30 years to receive the medals he earned in Vietnam and just as long to acknowledge something he brought back with him from the war - post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

“I was 17 when I joined and only 18 when I shipped out to Vietnam,” he said. “Combat is difficult enough for hardened veterans, but so many of us in that war were still just teenagers.”

Peter served with the 101st Airborne Division and the 82nd Airborne Division. He earned the Vietnam Service Medal with two bronze battle stars, the Silver Star Medal, the Army Commendation Medal, the Presidential Unit Citation with oak leaf cluster and the Valorous Unit Citation.

Later, as a civilian policeman, he was injured in a fall from a roof while chasing a suspect. At a Veterans Affairs hospital for a checkup, he discussed with doctors the other symptoms he was experiencing.

He sought out a Department Service Officer (DSO), James Ward, while trying to get the Silver Star he earned during a battle in Vietnam. When Ward asked him to describe the incident in which he earned the medal, Peter became agitated and began having flashbacks. The DSO recognized his symptoms and encouraged the veteran to let him file a claim. “I told him I didn’t want him to do it because I didn’t want to be labeled with another disability,” Peter said. “Fortunately for me, he didn’t listen.”

A call from a VA hospital and a series of tests from doctors and psychologists confirmed the DSO’s suspicions and set Peter on a course of treatment to conquer the demons he had long lived with.

PTSD is the result of a psychologically distressing event that produces fear, terror and helplessness in the victim, representing a threat to the victim’s life or a loved one’s life. It shows itself in vivid and troubling flashbacks, emotional numbness, hyper-vigilance, poor sleep habits, poor concentration, and exaggerated irritability. Those symptoms are often accompanied by depression, anxiety, survivor guilt, suicidal urges, nervousness, drug or alcohol abuse, aggressive behavior and changes in cognitive functions.

Peter wrote his story in a book in the hope that “it will be a help to others out there suffering through the same hell I was going through.”

Thanks for your courage then and now, Peter.

Advice to veterans: Tell your story to a friendly advocate who’ll insist on helping you even though you’re just fine, thank you.

Read another story of an undetected condition, or read more of Peter Griffin's story in his book, “When you Hear the Bugle Call” (I don't get any money if you buy it), or in Steve Lawson’s article in the Reidsville Review.