Monday, October 31, 2016

The Lost Cities and Rotting Bones


 His flesh and his bones rotted while he lay in the corner of the nursing home.

Alone.

It wasn’t the first time I had seen this particular picture. However it was the first time I was capable of following the outcome. And it wasn’t the first time I that I lost my job because I chose to do the right thing.

In the last ten years, I’ve worked in forty-four nursing homes spread across five states. I feel as if I’m attempting to find my way out of the catacombs, forever looking for light and air. I don’t feel like that because of the patients, for they are what make it bearable to work in a skilled nursing facility.

No. I feel like I’m forever in a lost city made up of people who were once vibrant and vital to life and living, but are now fed a steady diet of Little House on the Prairie and Bonanza re-runs all day everyday. They are told what they can do; when they can and cannot get in and out of bed or eat meals, get a bath, or even when or if they can go to the bathroom or have their diaper changed. And most are told that they will go to therapy a certain amount of time each day, at least as long Medicare A or B, or Medicaid monies hold out. In other words, besides breathing or having private thoughts, they no longer have any control over their lives.

In my very humble and personal opinion, once we passed a law that allowed for innocent babies to be killed in utero because they were inconvenient, it has become very acceptable to “put away” our elderly in places where they go to die.

It’s like the frog in the pot of boiling water. At what point did the frog go from being warm to uncomfortably warm to miserable to pain to feeling nothing? We live in a society of many who feel nothing, even those who are put in place to ensure that elder abuse and neglect don’t happen, or if it does, there are ways to help them.

I am here to tell you that there is no help for at least one patient, whose story is told below, and at least two other patients that I have reported have severe problems with wounds, one in another facility. I’ve was told, “No. We aren’t going to address any patients in another facility other than the single incident.” Period. End of discussion.

I am nauseated to report the following story.

I found the bed askew when I pulled the curtain away from his bed. Someone had pushed it out of its tidy place and hadn’t bothered to put it back. He lay surrounded by more than a half-a-dozen pillows. Some had been placed in an attempt to take the pressure off of his back, particularly his buttocks; others were under and between his legs. There was a nasal cannula in place delivering the vital O2 required to keep him breathing.

The bedside table was filthy with dried food. It took more than a couple of attempts to roll the rusty wheels away from the edge of the bed in order to reach the patient, also surrounded by raised bedrails on either side. When asked how he felt, the patient responded, “My right leg hurts a little.” I then begin pulling away a single pillow at a time, although it was very obvious he was most uncomfortable.

His legs were drawn towards his chest the way his hands were curled towards his heart. In my mind’s eye, I suppose at this stage of life, it was his heart, or what was in it, that mattered. Although his eyes were already dead, he was gracious and spoke kindly.

The CNA told me that the wound had gotten bad because the patient didn’t want to “get out of the recliner” in order to get into bed because he said “he couldn’t breathe” while on his back.

The CNA serving as the wound care nurse (CMS rules and regulations require that a wound care nurse be an RN), rolled the patient on his side in order to change the bandage on the Stage IV wound. I had been asked to evaluate the wound, a wound that only three months prior had been the size of my little finger. I had also been told that no other physical therapist had been willing to look at his wound, or any wound, which is really interesting after reading the corporation’s definition of Physical Therapy per their website:

“Physical Therapy focuses on problems with loss of movement, strength, motion, balance, and skin breakdown to accelerate recovery, prevent impairments, and minimize wounds and contractures. Our therapists work aggressively on healing advanced state decubitus ulcers (bed sores) utilizing state-of-the-art wound care protocols and pressure relief techniques to restore skin integrity.”

The bandage itself was about 10” x 10” which covered a wound that was approximately 3.5” in diameter, covered by a piece of grey foam that had been folded over itself several times.

The CNA brought with her hydrogen peroxide and saline to clean the wound. I stood beside the CNA as she removed the entire bandage and I smelled the wound before I could see it. Once I could see, I believed the foul odor to be feces only to realize that the grayish-green substance was oozing from the wound itself.

The patient was literally rotting.

When I asked the CNA how long the wound had not been getting better, she replied, “I’ve been documenting it getting worse for at least 60 days.” The patient was on hospice and had only been in the nursing home for three months.
The wound was far past anything I could do to help.

Without touching the wound, I documented the following:

“This wound is out of my scope of practice. The patient needs to be referred to MD for further assessment and possible indications for surgical debridement, IV antibiotics, and hyperbaric therapy.”

Unknown to me until weeks later, the patient was transferred out of the nursing home within six hours. They took the patient (under the cover of darkness) across state lines, performed radical surgery that included, but was not limited to, removal of the sacrum (tailbone), a colostomy, along with surgical debridement of two other wounds.

I visited this patient on three occasions. The first time he was receiving blood, not because of a low hematocrit (per his nurse) but because he was “leaking blood from ‘somewhere.’” I personally witnessed consistent blood pressure readings of 90-something over 50-something and lower. Prior to the second visit I was informed that his blood pressure had dropped into the 70-something over forty-something range during the night. The third visit I saw a family member while the patient received hyperbaric treatment. The fourth visit in five days was the day the patient expired.

The patient was cremated and buried before the State/Local representative for elder abuse began investigations on a report that I made ten days prior.

The point of writing and publishing such a story as this?

It's not just the elderly at risk. We are all only a bad accident or severe stroke away from being in a position where we cannot care for ourselves and/or there are no caregivers who can. and we all know someone who is in a nursing home or under the care of an entity like hospice, home health, or are in some type of rehab program. The sickening thing about this particular situation is that over fifteen corporations are somehow in "bed together" and are profiting from the neglect and abuse noted above.

I have contacted over two dozen entities in the Alabama and Mississippi state governments in an attempt to help right the wrongs done to the patient who is already dead by helping those that I am aware need help today, and I’m sure others who I don’t know about. I’ve been informed that there are no pictures and not enough documentation to support that any wrong has happened.

Whether or not there is documentation to not support the above or that it disappeared just like his body did with cremation, does not warrant the lack of investigation regarding the ones who are still alive and dying slow deaths due to severe wounds that come from neglect.

Write your senators and congressman in Mississippi and Alabama, along with the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services and the government offices listed below. Please beg them to do something about this situation. It could be your loved one. 

It could be you.



http://www.alabamaageline.gov/elder-abuse

Governor of Alabama, Robert Bentley's, Montgomery office: 334-242-7100 
Governor's Chief of Staff, John Bargineer: 334-242-7100

Office of the Governor, Stacy Lewis, email: stacey.lewis@governor.alabama.gov

Alabama Governmental Affairs, Henry Davis, email: henry.davis@medicaid.alabama.gov or phone number: 334-242-5005

Alabama Department of Senior Services, Nell Morrison: 334-242-5743

Alabama Ombudsman, Virginia Bell: 334-242-5753 or 334-328-4121 or email: virginia.bell@adss.alabama.gov

Commissioner of Medicaid, Stephanie Azar: 334-242-7100 or email: stephanie.azar@medicaid.alabama.gov

Mississippi Governor, Phil Bryant's, office: 601-359-3150

Mississippi: Elder Abuse, Nursing Home Neglect, Senior Exploitation: 800-852-8341

Mississippi Elder Abuse: 800-222-8000

Mississippi Medicaid Fraud Investigation: 800-852-8341 

Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services: 800-447-8477


Friday, September 30, 2016

Knights of Heroes: More Encounters Off the Beaten Path

It was quite a random encounter to find the Knights of Heroes http://knightsofheroes.org/
signpost over Gold Camp Road in rural Teller County, just outside of Victor, Colorado. Terry and I had gone to Colorado for business and pleasure. He had wanted to show me this place, a place where he knew the grounds-keeper, Kim, a Vietnam veteran, who takes care of the ground now known as Knights of Heroes http://knightsofheroes.org/. When he said Kim was another Vietnam vet just like he was, I became intrigued.

After making our way up into the Colorado High Country, around tighter and tighter switchbacks, we finally emerged to a meadow where we came upon a lone and lonely log cabin unable to be used because of some kind of government bureaucracy. We had climbed the altitude up the side of that mountain, through a canopy of pines, blue spruce and an occasional aspen. The cabin was a welcome relief.

Terry then said, “Now we will be on a dirt road. You will love this!” At which point he drove our rental car under a simple wooden sign which hung from the skinny trunks of fallen aspen, into what might seem to be, another world…


an F-16C Fighting Falcon pilot for the United States Air Force, crashed and died in combat while engaged in the support of coalition combat forces 20 miles northwest of Baghdad. Ginger, Troy’s wife, while her husband was deployed, had already accepted her role as both Father and Mother, to raise newborn twin girls, a three-year-old daughter, Boston, age 6, and Grayson, age 9. Not Ginger had to feel completely alone. But it would not be for long.

While stationed at Luke Air Force Base, outside of Phoenix, Arizona, Troy had become friends with another US Air Force pilot, Steve Harrold. During the eighteen-month relationship, they were bound by work, the fact that both sets of their sons were the same age, and their relationship to Christ.

The day I first made contact with Steve Harrold, he had been up at the camp working with Kim. I had left him a voicemail earlier in the day, asking for Kim’s contact information for Terry, and I added, "Oh, by the way, if you are interested, I would like to tell the story of Knights of Heroes." When he returned my call, I was struck by his passion for life and the ministry he’d begun, and I was struck by his humility and willingness to serve others.

He said he would like to have me tell their story, that he somehow felt my motivation was intended only to help their organization. I told him he was right, and I also told him that I felt privileged and humbled that he would allow me to help get the word out. We set up a time to talk another day, but I left him to ponder the following questions.

1. What is Knights of Heroes all about?
2. What does it take logistically to implement your once-a-summer camp?
3. What makes you get up in the morning?

When we spoke the next time, Steve made it a point to mention that Troy had a way of making people with whom he came in contact feel special; he made them feel as though they mattered in the big picture of life. He said that Troy would fly missions all day in Iraq, only to volunteer at the hospital in Ballad, Iraq. One can only imagine how difficult that would have been.

The answer to my first question, “What is Knights of Heroes all about,” Steve gave me the following answer:

“Troy was deployed in August 2006, at the same time my family and I relocated to Colorado. Troy had long-before recommended that I read the book, Raising of a Modern Day Knight: A Father’s Role in Guiding His Son to Authentic Manhood. https://read.amazon.com/kp/embed?asin=B005MZIDIY&preview=newtab&linkCode=kpe&ref_=cm_sw_r_kb_dp_yyi7xb9KNGP8P.
It was on November 27, 2006, while reading the chapter in that same book entitled, “Absent Father Wound,” I found out Troy had been killed defending the freedom we all enjoy.

Immediately, I began to ask the question, ‘What would Troy be doing with his sons, Boston, then six, and Grayson, nine?’ You see, my sons, Jake and Tanner were consecutively the same age, so it wasn’t hard for me to imagine the answer.”

Steve went on to say that he knew Troy would take them mountain climbing, teach them to shoot guns; they would hike, camp, raft, and rock climb, always with his core mission to teach his sons the tenants of manhood through activity. Steve knew what he had as his own goal: to instruct his sons in how to be godly men, how to be honorable and chivalrous to women, how to become great leaders in the community, and how to have no semblance of entitlement.

It was at that point Steve embraced the model that Richard Lewis had laid out, and then on a mission, became an ambassador for raising knights in his own sons. He also felt that he needed to do the same for Troy’s boys and other sons of fallen soldiers too. Thus was born Knights of Heroes http://knightsofheroes.org/.

I then asked the second question, “What does it take logistically to implement your once-a-summer camp?”

Steve then began to tell me that they had started the ministry ten years ago with a $15K a year budget, but the program had quickly grown. This year, they will have 95 children at camp, 50 boys and 30 girls. He told me that they had purchased the property that I had stumbled upon after raising $250K for a down payment on the total purchase price of the property of $735K. Most were donations that came by word of mouth.

He was careful to mention that they have an operating budget of $120K; The Free Wheel Foundation, who sponsors a 4-day bike ride where they raise almost $100K for Knights of Heroes, annually, donates many of those dollars. Home Depot has donated a $22K grant, and MyLineage.com https://secure.mylineage.com/index, although a very small organization, donates hand-embroidered crests, which are given to each child their first time at camp, along with a history of their name.

MyLineage.com https://secure.mylineage.com/index, also gifts the boys daggers their second year, and a sword, the third year. I remarked how those boys should feel like true knights once they’ve received such amazing symbols of all their mentors and activities teach them throughout the week.

“Once the boys graduate from the 1st-3rd-year program, they go on to the “High Adventure Program,” where 8 boys and 3 mentors pack into and out of the Colorado High Country.” Steve went on to say, “In the 1st-3rd-year program, the volunteer mentors are one-to-one with the boys, and we have additional volunteer staff of about ten, including a physician and a photographer.

Our biggest corporate contributor is South West Airlines https://www.southwest.com/.
They donate 100 tickets for the children to have free transportation to the camp. That is the equivalent of about $140K. We are most grateful to them.” We also give each boy a backpack with their name on it when they arrive at camp, which contains 5 t-shirts, a fleece jacket, and a cap. They must give back all but the cap and one shirt. We recycle the others for the boys who will attend the next summer's camp.”

Then I asked my final question. “What makes you motivated to get up in the morning,” to which he replied, “When my children were young and left them sleeping when I went to fly a mission, I never left that I didn’t have the thought of what might happen to them if something happened to me. Of course, it did happen to Troy and so many other US soldiers who have paid the ultimate sacrifice. I want to be there for as many of those soldier’s children as I can.”

Steve is now retired military and an active firefighter. He and his wife, Suzanne, along with their sons, Jake, 16, and Tanner, 19, currently live in Monument, Colorado.

I would ask each of you to answer the last question for yourself. 

My answer to that question is simple. “I want to find the hope that is in today.” This organization, my friends, brings me hope. My desire is that it does the same for you.

If so, please feel free to follow this link to donate to Knights of Heroes http://knightsofheroes.org/home/donate-now






Saturday, July 16, 2016

My Personal Abortion Question?


When I was 25-years-old, I gave birth to my second child, a son named Jesse, who was born with the most severe urological birth defect one can have. Ten years, 36 surgeries, and a million dollars in insurance payments later, along with the loss of my mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual health for having been a caregiver 24/7/365, Jesse reached a point where he could live a normal life. He has since had a dozen-plus more surgeries, but is currently living in Denver with his wife, where he is happily married and functioning as a healthy, successful adult.


This story of pain and loss, and my never-ending search for all that is lost in the ashes, is chronicled in my first book Outer Edge of Grace. In that book, I ask many more questions that I attempt to answer.

However, there is one question I asked and to which I found the answer in Scripture. Did God make Jesse like he was born? My paraphrase of Psalm 139: 13-14 says, “For Thou didst form my inward parts when I was yet in mother’s womb. I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” That was and is enough for me. Jesse, and all that he is, was never an accident.

God in his faithfulness and his mercy that is new every morning gave me, as Jesse’s mother, the strength and courage to do what I never would have dreamed to do as a very young woman. I am who I am today because of the challenges and the victories I’ve experienced over the course of my life.

Bladder Exstrophy with Epispadius Complex, the birth defect that Jesse had, is a neural tube defect, occurring between five and six weeks of gestation, although it is not until twenty weeks gestation that the bladder fills and empties and can be seen on an ultrasound. Subsequently, many are being aborted because it’s so expensive and time-consuming to care for these children.

Why this long commentary? Because I ran across a powerful video tonight about abortion.

I have known women who have had abortions. “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” My goal in this post is not to in any way judge. My goal is to inform and educate. If one woman reads my post, watches this video, and chooses life for her child, it is worth my time.

The video is narrated by Anthony Levatino, MD, who is a practicing obstetrician and gynecologist. Dr. Levatino performed over 1200 abortions. The video is very graphic and disturbing. It should be. It is a video demonstrating the brutal murder of unborn children, some of whom could survive outside of the womb.

Why am I sharing? Because after Jesse was born, his father and I decided to have a third child. On the day I found out I was pregnant Jesse had the first of twenty surgeries in fifteen months of time. My oldest daughter, Joy, was only four-years-old. During that first trimester, I lay on the cold tile of our bathroom floor, blaming my ex-husband for getting me pregnant, bitter in that moment for the desperation I felt, as the vomiting of my pregnancy seemed to never end.

I remember finding my feet while wiping my mouth and leaning my weak body against the door jam. In that brief moment I thought to myself, “I know why women go to the abortion clinic,” which was not a mile from our home in Jackson, Mississippi. In that same moment, I learned how very human I am. “But by the grace of God go I.” And, in that same moment, I knew that I carried life inside of me and she was worth the cost. I have my sweet Hannah today because of my conviction. That moment shows only how very weak I am and that moment demonstrates how powerful the Word of God is.

Please take four minutes to watch this video. While it is gruesome in nature, it is no more gruesome than what we watch on our televisions each night. Terrorists who kill en masse are rampant in this world, while abortion clinics are open for business en masse each day, everyday in the United States of America. The difference? Terrorism is illegal and abortion is legal.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. And thank you for taking the time to share this post. Remember: If one life is saved, it is worth my time and yours.

Sarah Beaugez