Stomach pains and the start of a different life

February 5, 1983 (A Day That Will Live In Infamy), okay not as famous as THAT "Day in Infamy" but for me, it was very significant. At 1:35 in the morning I show up at the Homestead AFB clinic with bad stomach pains. For me bad enough that I would consider going to the hospital. I don't have a memory of what happened, but I do remember when they found out I had pizza for lunch the previos day, that they just brushed off the pain. I was discharged at 2:30 AM and would for the next year, deal with the same pains, sometimes lying on the floor pounding on my stomach to make the pains go away.

The Fall

March 25, 1984, going to the Moody AFB Air Show and get to see the Thunderbirds. I left my apartment at 1805B Slater Street in Valdosta Georgia and somehow trip on the last step. Not thinking much about it, but in pain go to the airshow. During this time, my friend Mark Webie sees me and notices that I have a bad limp and forces me to go to the hospital. There they don't think nothing serious, put an Ace bandage on and sent me home. On April 5th a X-ray discovered I had a 5cm x 2 1/2cm cyst/tumor on the middle of my right fibula and that I cracked the tumor.

They sent me home with crutches and no sign of further treatment. Unfortunately, the engine shop had just painted the floor with an expoxy coating and there was no "grit" and so it was slippery. One day while going through the shop, I mistakenly put a crutch in some oil and had a bad fall.

Finally Moving

After hearing about the fall and the time it was taking for the Air Force to do anything, my dad called his Congressman who called Moody and was forced to respond in 24 hours. Shortly after I was on a medical jet to a Naval Hospital in Jacksonville Florida, arriving on May 3rd. I was putn in the orthopedic ward with 3 other roommates (a broken/amputated leg, a severe leg break that had a metal cage around with pegs going into his leg, and a broken back), all from motorcycle accidents. I was there for 8 days getting evaluated but finding that they had no idea what to do. So on May 11th, it was another hospital jet.

Welcome To Fort Gordon

Arriving at Fort Gordon in Augusta Georgia, I was admitted to the Dwight D Eisenhower Army Medical Center (DDEAMC). There I was seen by Dr. Goodrich who informed me that initially it was recommended that they amputate my leg above the knee to prevent spreading of cancer if in fact the tumor was cancerous.

May 18, 1984

0930 hours, reported to the nurses station with stomach pain, stating that I have had this pain many times before, but not as bad as this. They talked about me having an apple and it being the most difficult food to digest. Again, trying to push the pain off on to something else, besides investigating the cause. Well, something must have happened, because I was rushed to an operating room and I remember vomiting when they put a tube through my nose into my stomach. The operation report states that it began at 1200 and lasted 3 1/2 hours. Doctor Edwards was the main surgeon, with help from Dr. Quispe and Dr. Opelka. The main issue acute necrotizing pancreatitis, resulting in a near total pancreatectomy (95% of my pancreas was removed) and spleenectomy.
May 23rd they performed a subclavian catheterization, essentailly an IV into my heart, in order to inject hyperal solution (a nutrient-rich intravenous solution providing proteins, carbohydrates, lipids, electrolytes, and vitamins to patients who cannot absorb food through their digestive tract). I remember when they were prepping the site on my chest, having to shave a large area and being told that I had to be careful keeping it sterile as this was going right into my heart. A good/bad thing was they put an "A"-line into my wrist, the good-everytime they needed to take blood or give medicine they didn't have to poke me (just opened a cap), the bad-they left it too long and now I have my "suicide scar".
On May 29th everything was going good, no complaints, wants very much to eat, gained 1 1/2 lbs (up to 121 3/4 pounds). Then on May 30th, my white blood count rose to 56,000 and after a CT scan they found substantial wound infection/abcess and it was off to the OR for drainage. However, there was no surgical instruments, it was Dr. Opelka just using his fingers to pull apart the scar on my stomach. Then they had to clean inside the scar and remove any puss/bacteria AND Dr. Opelka had the largest fingers.
It was decided that on June 12th I would be able to leave the hospital and fly home for some much needed time away from the hospital. However, the open wound from the infection was still not closed, so I would be required to clean it myself. This involved removing the gauze that was packed up and down from the opening, placing my finger inside the wound and cleaning the wound while home. Eventually the hole inside my stomach started to "fill" in until the opening just closed.
While home, I had an episode of pain in my abdomen and needed to have an ambulance take me to the hospital, and one of the paramedics was Pat McKeever (a very close family friend and fellow Quietwoods camper). It was at the hospital that I met Dr. Meves, who I would find after moving home and be his patient until his retirement.

More Time and Surgeries

Finally had the biopsy of the tumor in the fibula on July 11, 1984. I remember getting a spinal and not feeling anything, but could sense when they used a hammer to enter the bone. Not sure what was discovered, but at 2200 on July 14 I once again had "abdominal pain like before". They continued to monitor and on July 20 reported "If episodes continue, gall stone pancreatitis would have to be considered in spite of normal sonogram".
On Thursday, July 26th, Dr. Goodrich discussed the surgery to only remove the tumor and not amputate the leg, which was scheduled for the following Thursday, August 2nd.
It was noted on July 29th that I was extremely anxious (re: abdomen), thus feeling abdominal pain. On July 30th they discovered marked tenderness on my abdomen, white blood count up to 28,000 so once again did sonogram and CT scan. On July 31st, WBC was up to 37,000 and temperature was 101 and I was counselled for a chelecystectomy (removing the gall bladder) and CBDE (Common Bile Duct Exploration).
On August 1st, I got to meet my new doctors, Dr. Claussen, Dr. Gooden and Dr. Kimball who found the gall bladder to be markedly enlarged, with a thickened wall, filled with milky fluid. After they removed the gall bladder they attmepted to pass a #3 Bakes dilator through the cystic duct, but because of the inflammation they could injure the common duct. Due to the infection, the gall bladder fossa (a shallow, oblong depression on the visceral (bottom) surface of the liver, situated between the right anatomical lobe and the quadrate lobe. It serves as the anatomical "bed" or lodging space where the gallbladder sits.) was left open. They closed the abdomen and used 28 gauge wire on the anterior fascia (connective tissue layers in the front of the abdomen. This complex anatomical network plays a vital role in protecting internal organs, transmitting forces, and providing structural support for the torso). The wound was left open for what they called "delayed primary closure", what it meant to me was, at night they layed gauze in the wound and overnight infection and "gunk" would stick to it. In the morning they would grab one end to the gauze and rapidly pull off, removing all of the nights deposits and reulting in excruciating pain (I do believe my hand prints are still in the bed rails).
I was then transferred back to Orthopedic ward on August 12th and scheduled for surgery on my fibula, AGAIN.
On August 20th, I finally had my surgery to remove the tumor and most of my right fibula. It was a mostly uneventful surgery and the tumor was found to be 70mm in length and 35mm in greatest thickness. The lab received about 14 cm length of bone. My leg was then put in a walking cast.
It was the the waiting game. I did finally get back to Valdosta and was able to drive my EXP back to the hospital, even though I still had a cast on my leg. I was pulled over for speeding and stuck my cast as far under the dash as I didn't know if it was illegal to drive with a cast.

Finally Leaving The Hospital

I continued to stay at the hospital while preparing to be discharged. I was even put to work, luckily in the print shop. One day, I saw my records and made a copy, all 277 pages of records. This was so helpful for future knowledge of what happened. The records included doctors progress notes, nursing reports, many laboratory results and the Report of Medical Examination on which Dr. Goodrich indicated that I was not qualified for retention.
Eventually, on January 22, 1985, 254 days total days at Fort Gordon Army Medical Center and 264 days total from leaving Moody AFB.

Back At Moody AFB

I am now out of the hospital and back at Moody AFB, but there is no way they are going to allow me to work on jet engines, so it is an office for me. I do not remember what they had me doing, but I remember standing coins on edge and tossing pencils into the ceiling.

I did travel to Lackland AFB to go in front of medical review board to see if I would get medically retired, which was denied. The weird thing happened during my trip home. Took off from an Air Force base and half way back they told us that we couldn't make it to Moody so they landed at Keesler AFB in Mississippi and said you are on your own. I was able to link up with another person who contacted family to come and pick them up. On the drive back, we hit a dog and came across an accident where three people were thrown from the car and as each body we drove past it got worse (the last one we were sure was dead).

Finally around May I must have requested to just leave the Air Force and on May 17, 1985, my Air Force days were over. I packed my Ford EXP and drove back to Green Bay, making it in time to go to a Triumph consert the next day at the Arena.

From the gallery

Pictures of my military career.