Tuesday 19 January 2016

Letter To My Surgeon..........................

(Editor's Note: We have been asked to post this and do so without reservation)

January 19, 2016
Jeffrey T. Innes, MD,
I don't expect to last too much longer, at least I hope I won't in the miserable condition I am in right now--deliberately untreated, as usual. So I am going to say what is on my mind before I go:

I know about the Achalasia, know that is what my real problem was when it first manifested back on June 3rd of 1991. I had miserable STOMACH symptoms and vomiting, classic Achalasia symptoms I came to learn when it was too late--just like I have right now. Just like I had AFTER the completely unnecessary gallbladder surgery I was conned and railroaded into. It was in its early stages then. I was misdiagnosed. But you already know that, you have always known that and even hinted at it once when you said, quote: "Maybe you never needed your gallbladder out in the first place; maybe we misdiagnosed you" and "The gallbladder surgery either caused something or aggravated something already present" Your exact words to me. Yes, it certainly did "aggravate something already present", caused it to explode. You said all this AFTER the barium test you ordered after the gallbladder surgery so my best guess is that you identified it then but concealed it to protect yourself from a malpractice claim. I also know that you lied to me about the results of my pre-op ultrasound; the hospital apparently knew this too because when I requested copies of my complete file that particular document was "missing" from what they sent me--all four times. What they didn't know is I had already been given a copy of that document by your office.
This leads me to wonder, anew, what you actually did to me at that second surgery--the one you refuse to discuss even to this day. I woke up in the recovery room and the nurse there said: "you really had some extensive surgery!" I asked what it was and she said she could not tell me, that I would have to ask you about it. You said nothing at all was done--except remove a piece of small bowel without my permission. Was it a Heller Myotomy? I had a lot of heartburn after that second surgery that I have come to learn can be a consequence of a Heller Myotomy and points strongly in that particular direction. Is that why the locals are scared to death I will leave town for care for the Achalasia now and are all but begging me to stay local and stick with OSU (because they know they can count on OSU doctors to comply with the cover-up program in place)? Is that why the locals have fought so hard to keep me away from a clean diagnosis since it took a downward turn and manifested anew in 2011? Scared that I will seek care from someone you locals can't control who will find out and tell me the truth? Is that the reason you refuse to discuss what-all you did to me at that second surgery? Why not just grow the hell up and tell the truth anyway? It is not like I can do anything about it with the filthy legal system in cahoots and as crooked as the so-called "protection agencies" are here. It is not like I can go back in time and reverse what has been done to me. We both know how much weight gets paid to "informed consent" and the right to self- determination in this hell-hole. Why pretend different? I have some decisions to make soon and I cannot make good decisions without full information. And I am not going to blindly trust nor accept what gets dumped into my lap either. I trusted you twice and look at how that went down.
You could have just told me the truth at the time; I'd have understood and been able to let this mess go and had some peace about it. I could have closed the door on it and walked away. It would have saved us both a lot of trouble. I could also have gotten proper care instead of lies and abuse that has made me distrust ALL doctors now and made me hate you in particular. These many  years of suffering and abuse has hijacked every hope and dream I ever had for the direction I wanted my life to take and has changed me into someone I never wanted to become.
Over the years the Achalasia went undiagnosed and untreated--deliberately. Thankfully, it wasn't too much of a problem until the autumn of 2011 when it went crazy on me with its later stages. That doesn't mean every doctor I saw trying to get treatment and relief did not know what it was. But they were laser-focused on protecting you and protecting the ugly secret that the locals were grabbing up every warm body they could con onto the teaching hospital's operating room tables because, in the introduction of laparoscopic gallbladder surgery, there was a whole surgical community to be trained as quickly as possible and too few valid gallbladder cases to go around for all to practice on. So you people made some in service to yourselves, said and did whatever it took to con trusting innocent people into agreeing to that dangerous new surgery nobody had mastered yet--whether they needed it or not. This training never ends. Break one, toss it out, get another.

After the Achalasia manifested again in 2011with esophageal spasms, uncontrollable drooling, and severe indigestion I sought help at several places and got nothing but lies and verbal abuse-- and a stiff dose of gaslighting and duping delight. I could tell these doctors knew exactly what was going wrong and that they were not going to lift a finger to intervene. The question was WHY? What purpose could be served in lying and denying intervention? Rather whose purpose could be served? It couldn't have been in benefit to any penny-pinching health insurer because I was not insured at that time. And it certainly was not in service to me. Then one day an honest medical professional told me the truth--I am supposing it was because this person was about to leave town for another job and wouldn't have to put up with the backlash. I still couldn't get any intervention for it afterward, however; and the lies and verbal abuse continued unabated. I changed primary care doctors and the new doctor tried to help without telling me what he was trying to help with. He didn't know  that I knew what the real problem was (one of them anyway)-- and when I finally revealed the fact that I knew about the Achalasia  he dropped me as a patient. It was met with horror and panic that just wasn't right under the circumstances. WHY would my knowing this information inspire this kind of extreme reaction? I think you know the answer...and so do I.

I also know about the huge "referral fee" paid out as incentive for doctors to refer people to the two training centers set up in this city for the introduction and training of L.C. when it was new and the feeding frenzy it ignited. People who came into ERs for things like a fall were told they "needed" their gallbladder out. My own sister who had hers out 20 years prior was told she needed hers removed when she went to an ER for a digestive complaint. And when I came to Grant's ER one summer night in 1991 the ER doctor did not look at any other possible cause for the vomiting and severe indigestion because he was laser-focused upon making referrals to the teaching hospital's "special" L.C. training program (one of the two set up in this city, Mt Carmel East having the other one) and collecting that fat "referral fee".
Did you know there was a dispute between the ER doctor and my, then, family doctor about WHO actually made that referral and who should get that fat "referral fee"? They had he gall to ask ME to settle it, and I did, ignorant of why I was being asked that particular question although I thought it was odd at the time. But I know now: that mystery was solved years ago when one of your cardiac physician associates sent me a message through a common friend about the excessively large referral fee attached to referring people to use up training the  dangerous new L.C. on when the usual referral fee of the time was $100. The cardiologist was dying so I suppose he wanted to leave something clean behind. Not all doctors agreed with what was done to people like me. But few stood up against this evil/atrocity and tried to put a stop to it. Lucian Leape stood up at a conference and said "what we did to those people was wrong." It wasn't just wrong it was pure, unadulterated evil. It is ugly what greed will do to a person, especially to sociopaths who will do anything to anyone to get what they want from them.
This is "human trafficking" in its worst form. You and your cohorts are monsters.
But I am not deteriorating, nor dying, of the Achalasia--just suffering miserably while I die of the congestive heart failure--the direct and inevitable consequence of the deliberately untreated infection you KNEW I had and sat back and did nothing to treat it in service to yourself. You sat and watched it blow through my body, chew up my kidneys, liver, spleen..and heart. Subacute bacterial endocarditis. It ends just one way. But you know all that. I remember begging you for antibiotics when that liver abscess ruptured and had seeded infection all over, so infected I was urinating ropes of pus at one point. You said no, said "I don't know what is wrong with you and without a diagnosis I can't offer any treatment." And tried to interfere when an animal doctor saw what was going on and tried to intervene by giving me oral antibiotics "for my sick dog"--but I refused to give the name when it was demanded by your staff member. You also laughed when I told you Dr. Clouse was giving me oral antibiotics and you said "if he thinks he is going to be able to cure SBE with oral antibiotics he is out of his mind." So you knew. Dr. Clouse said I really needed to be in the hospital for a month of IV antibiotics but said he was not allowed to admit me so he had to do the best he could with what he had to work with--but by the time he came into the picture it was already too late and the damage had been done, was irreversible. Dr. Clouse told me in 1998 that I could live about five more years at the rate I was going downhill. He also told me he had contacted you and requested that you man up and sit down with me and tell the truth and that you refused to do it. No surprise there.
You prescribed Verapamil when I was still your patient. You knew my heart was damaged by the untreated infection because you had me go through heart tests that were not normal but you claimed "you had no idea what the problem was" and prescribed Verapamil even though I did not have high blood pressure at the time (had low blood pressure actually, for many years before and after) and when I asked why you felt I needed this particular prescription you told me some nonsense about it relaxing bile ducts. I was put back on it in 2012 after I went to the ER with Achalasia symptoms that were completely ignored--again; the hospital was only interested in testing my heart. And prescribing blood pressure medication. I have been on Verapamil since. People with congestive heart failure shouldn't use calcium-channel blockers. You already know why. Everyone in the medical syndicate knew why but me and just looked the other way, let me get worse faster. I got worse much faster after using the Verapamil again in 2012. And I would still be using it if a couple of doctors hadn't recently hinted that the medication was wrong. I didn't think to research congestive heart failure in combination with a calcium channel blocker on the Internet and how dangerous that combination is until now. Especially for people who have an enlarged left ventricle--like I have. But that is what comes to injury victims who have not been given a truthful diagnosis and full information about their conditions--we cannot possibly make good or safe healthcare decisions, can we? Or thwart attempts to make us worse faster. Careful positioning and being forced into a place where we are made to trust blindly sets people like me up for deliberately being led down the wrong path to more harm. But you know that too.
Over these years I tried to get help with this to no avail. I couldn't even get proper symptomatic relief or pain control. Various doctors have said things like: "this has to be monitored" and "amazing you have lived so long with this"--but of course nobody had the guts to tell me clearly what "this" was so that I could at least have stood a ghost of a chance to treat this mess myself through alternative medicine's scanty offerings in light of the fact allopathic medicine harmed me then turned your backs--just like what is done to all whose lives were taken and used up training dangerous L.C. Break one, toss it out, get another...
I'll bet you crooked sociopaths are wondering how I have managed to live so long after all that was (and still is) done to me.
Your "pals" in medicine have served you well all these years. I have had every manner of lies, verbal abuse, attacks, gaming, set-ups, financial enslavement, bill-padding, character assassination, and so on that could be inflicted. You did the wrong, committed the crimes--and I am harnessed up to pay for it. And pay, and pay, and pay.
If I could choose a punishment for you I would give you everything you put me through, make you feel what I felt every step of the way. You'd last about five minutes. Your kind can dish it out because others just like you have your back, protect you from consequences--but standing alone you couldn't take it. Not this. Not this level of depravity and betrayal.
I have been falsely accused of being a "drunk" in your behalf in the attempt to flip my injury(s) off onto me and off where the responsibility for it actually belongs: on you. I don't drink, couldn't if I wanted to because I have Oriental Alcohol Flush Syndrome, the genetic mutation.
I have been subjected to a (thwarted) attempt to ship me off to Harvard's Mind And Body Institute for "an attitude adjustment" because I refuse to accept my destruction, enslavement, and abuse in silence.
I was subjected to an attempt to set me up on false drug charges--like what was successfully done to one of my associates in the patient's-rights arena who got a two-year prison term on trumped- up drug charges. One of your more honest insiders tipped me off to that one and when it went down I recognized it for what it was and managed to thwart it. I don't do drugs either.
There were many other such attacks and abuses inflicted upon me in your behalf; too many to list here. Nice. And I had to deal with that crap in the condition(s) I am in. Real nice.

But now I am at the place where things are going to get interesting and I am wondering what lies and games, cons and abuses are going to be pulled out of your war chest now? Your cohorts have done everything they could think of over the years to keep the Achalasia and Congestive Heart Failure deliberately untreated and undiagnosed for obvious reasons. In this time I could have taken useful steps in my own behalf to slow down the death spiral and thwart certain consequences, like elevating the head of my bed to prevent aspiration and pneumonia, avoided salt, etc. but that wouldn't have been in your best-interests, would it? So I was let go. Now that I know about it your cohorts  are doing whatever they can think of to keep me local so they can keep control. (good luck with that) I am being pushed toward OSU--and I don't like nor trust them either, history being what it has been. There is a scramble on right now to manufacture a "plausible deniability" scenerio and set the stage for a coming presentation to deceive onlookers as to what I am going to be manifesting in obvious symptoms real soon--and oncoming death from the CHF. You monsters won't be able to hide that one, will you? You will have to come up with something to try to mollify the onlookers and justify the billing that will come of it. I suspect the stagecraft will come in the form of some trashy crap like a false "drug abuse" claim, a fake cancer diagnosis,  or some other such bundle of lies that will make it look like I did this to myself or fate took a bad turn. But you and I both know how I really got this way and who worked to keep me here all these years deliberately untreated. We both know who wanted me dead and who worked to get me there as fast and as cheaply as possible. You are my murderer. You set this into motion and kept it going past the point of no return. You are a monster in my life who worked to destroy me for no better reason than you already got what you wanted from me and then I outlived my usefulness. I was in your way; I had to die so you were not inconvenienced, or embarrassed, or called to account for what you did to me--and to how many others? Your overblown sense of entitlement lied to you and told you that you were so entitled and well-placed in life that you had the right to take the lives of others.
The last time you called me you said you were sorry. Sorry. Really? Why were you never sorry enough to just not do what you did to me in the first place? Why were you never sorry enough to just stop at any point along the way? Why were you never sorry enough to just tell the truth and offer proper intervention early when it would have done the most good? You led the others in all the torture, robbing, and abuses I was subjected to without a shred of conscience or feeling for what I was put through or losses I'd suffered. Words without action means nothing.
You'll be pleased to know that I can't possibly last too much longer unless a miracle occurs--it will have to be a bigger miracle than the fact I have lasted as long as I have already deliberately untreated.  I recognize the end stages of CHF: I cannot lay down to sleep comfortably anymore, wheeze and gasp for breath if I do. My chest bubbles and gurgles loudly, especially when I lay on my left side. My feet and ankles swell every day--until I lay down trying to sleep and gravity causes my kidneys to unload the edema 10-15 times a night that pooled elsewhere when I am upright. When I lay down my heart beats erratically: beat a few beats, stall out, wait..then restarts with a hard thump--then do it all over again. I get little sleep between struggling for breath, the loud gurgling/wheezing, getting up to pee, and the heart thumping to restart. Then there is the Achalasia and its miseries on top of everything else. It is only a matter of time now before I simply drop dead. I don't remember the last time I slept through the night.
Ironically, this is what killed my mother too: she had a surgery, got infected, was deliberately left untreated and allowed to progress to CHF. One day she dropped dead in front of the dairy case at the grocery store. She, too, was murdered by calculated neglect--as surely as if her murderers put a gun to her head and pulled the trigger. I didn't know the things back then that I know now--the things I came to know the hard way. She fit the same "expendable" profile I did/do and was used up then let go. The law calls it "failure to rescue" but your kind gets around that by falsifying the medical record, pretending you have no idea what is going on, and stonewalling past the point of no return. Then one day we drop dead--problem solved.
I know you don't give a crap about any of this, history being what it is. I am writing this for me because I want you to know that in spite of the fact you have the power to torture, rob, and murder at will, and had backup doing it, got away with it, the written word lasts virtually forever and I have archived my incendiary medical records and statement with many knowledgeable others.

Elizabeth LaBozetta

1 comment:

Unknown said...

OMG! Very well said and I can certainly sympathise with your frustrations.I'm going to video my suffering and when I die (don't think it'll be much longer) I am 53, along with a (hopefully) daming message. I hope I don't go in my sleep.