In the Beginning

First off, I would like to point out that All of the following experiences are from my point of view only. I do not speak for the Army as a whole nor would I attempt to. Also, I will not mention real names or specific places, (all names are fictional to protect the identity of myself and those involved.) Still, I claim that all accounts are true to the best of my knowledge.
I may at times use examples which may not be real to life situations pertaining to other individuals experiences
This journal is purely designed to explain the current shortcomings of the military health system and to suggest possible remedial plans. Thank you for listening.

My Military Medical Journal

In The Beginning: Chapter 1.…

When I joined I was, among other things very proud to serve my country. I come from a long line of military service. In fact, I don’t think there is one American war my family hasn’t taken part in. My family is very proud of me, I am too. Basic training was not at all what I thought it would be. I spent seven or eight months preparing for what I thought would be the most physically demanding experience of my life. When I washed up on the Army’s shore I was overweight, but in very good shape. Physically I excelled, mentally they couldn’t break me though they tried. I was strong.
Then, unfortunately I was injured during hand to hand combatives. I was paired up with another soldier who was in my weight range. Our match lasted no more than five minutes. In those five minutes which would change the course of my career I struggled as if it were life or death. He was stronger than me. Every move I tried on him he countered effortlessly. I’d try to put him in an arm bar and he would overpower me and get me in a choke hold. I’d try to put him in a choke hold, and he would squeeze out of it. Finally I had him in my guard. I was on my back waiting for my chance to turn him and gain an advantage. As I tried to roll him he countered time after time keeping me on my back. That was when I tried something different. As a self acclaimed strategist I will always look for a new avenue to attack. I will try to use the unorthodox to gain the advantage. My legs were very strong, very powerful. I began squeezing with all my might to cause him enough pain to lift his guard. As I squeezed it felt as though my femur removed itself from my hip socket. Immediately I released pressure and the pain was horrendous. At that moment I lost all muscle strength in my right leg. He saw that I had dropped my guard, giving him a chance to take a killing blow. He grabbed my arms and began wrenching my body over. When he was on my back he put me in the rear neck choke. I was in too much pain to put up much of a fight. For several seconds I was helpless, but somewhere deep inside I wouldn’t give up. Using my right hand like a knife I jammed my fingers between his forearm and my neck, and pried. I produced enough of a gap to pull my head and my left arm out. In the process my left shoulder was rattled with a ripping sound deep inside, causing another bout of extreme pain. Now without any strength in my left shoulder or in my right leg I maneuvered in such a way to protect myself from further injury. The match only last a few seconds beyond that point. I successfully put him in an arm bar. He tapped out. Even though I won that match I still, to this day wonder if I truly won or lost that battle. Life lessons often teach us the values we must live by. On that day I learned victory will always come at a cost. (Note: I was not properly trained in hand to hand combat to attempt a full on match. At the time I thought I could use my legs to squeeze his rib cage, but as I found out the human rib cage is much stronger than I thought).
For the next few days I couldn’t do pull ups. My hip was tender, but it didn‘t hurt as bad as my shoulder. Still for those few days PT was easy, little or no running, mainly pushups and flutter kicks. Then we had an APFT, that’s when my army life started to go down hill. After the pushups and sit-ups came the two mile run. Four laps around the block and we were done. Yet, on the first lap a pain started to slow me down, and as time went on the pain grew and grew until I finished. When I stopped I couldn’t move again. The pain was so terrible it stopped me dead in my tracks. Unbidden tears welled up at the corners of my eyes. I had never in my life experience pain like that.
Though the doctors do not believe I could dislocate my hip with my own strength, I am certain that is what happened. It was a quick separation, out and back in within a split second. Since the injury I have researched my condition intensely. When you dislocate your hip there is a very good possibility that your labrum will be torn or damaged. The labrum is a piece of cartilage which keeps your femur from rubbing against the inside of your hip socket. Living with a damaged labrum for too long will ultimately lead to total hip replacement surgery.
My drill sergeants saw the anguish upon my face, and called me into their office later that day. They told me they were sending me to sick call the next morning, and so I went. At sick call was this master sergeant that had an anger issue. He shouted at everyone he suspected might be trying to get out of work for the day, which was everyone. And, of course he took me into his office and shouted at me, telling me that everyone has aches and pains, the key is not to be a pussy and drive on. He gave me some Ben Gay and some Tylenol and told me he had better not see me again. So I went back to the drill sergeants and told them what the master sergeant had said, and that was that, for a few days. Finally one of my drill sergeants said there is obviously something else wrong here, and he took me to sick call his self. Of course the master sergeant was very nice and polite. I went to the clinic where they examined me and said I had the symptoms of a stress fracture and ordered an X-ray. A few days later they said nothing showed up on the X-ray so they would do a bone scan. About a week went by before my bone scan. A couple of days after that I had a follow up appointment. The doctor told me nothing major showed up on the bone scan so she gave me some IBP and put me on a restricted profile for a week and every two weeks I had to go back and see her where she would examine me again and determine that the profile would be extended. (Note: If a person complains of a sprain or dislocation the proper test would be an MRI, to examine soft tissue. I wouldn’t receive an MRI for another two years). This went on through the remainder of basic training and AIT. At my final appointment the doctor told me that all of my information would be forwarded to my PCS duty station and a Doctor should contact my unit and let them know that I was a CAT 4 for medical. That of course never happened, and as I tried to get medical attention I would be turned away or sent on a scavenger hunt for the next doctor who could tell me where to go to talk to the right people. It was an endless maze and there I was lost somewhere in the middle trying to find my way out.
Mean while, I still excelled academically, and received the excellence in armor award and the draper award which is top honors in my basic training company. Even though I was hurt I still put forth the best effort I could, and that’s all anyone would ever ask of me, or so I thought.

~~~~please subscribe for my next journal entry, thank you~~~~