The beginning of the end
Once I returned to regular duty I was able to attend the base class for incoming military police. We went through our pitiful four days of training, were tased and OC sprayed at the end of the week and that was it for extra training. I spent two nights on ride alongs with other soldiers and was thrown to the wolves. I worked the road for the better part of a year, I will write more about individual calls for service and what it was actually like later. Luckily I had my civilian training to fall back on. Problem was that outside of my MOS and platoon duties I was now being referred to a local pain clinic for my back pain; since the Urologist told me that my pain was likely not related to my kidney stones.
At first I was issued a back brace, which I obviously couldn’t wear with my patrol gear. Then they began injections on my back. I was supposed to have the rest of those days off but I never ended up getting those days off since it was a civilian doctor’s note. Therefore I was being sedated in the morning to get injections, and patrolling those nights on post in full gear, just tearing my back to pieces. Eventually I would get an amniotic fluid injection in hopes that it would help my cells regenerate and heal my back. The US Army paid $28,000 for me to have a non FDA approved treatment on my back, I wasn’t even given the minimum recuperation time to heal. It was obviously unsuccessful, but how could it be successful when I was not getting the two weeks I was supposed to for recovery? Top it off with working the road on narcotics, which all my leadership knew, all the way up to the first sergeant.
Eventually the pain clinic notes would get back to the PCP who hated me and all the females in the Army (Not even a generalization or blanket statement, he hated women in the military). It wasn’t long until I was called in for an appointment and told I went behind his back. Instead of following the rules, going through the PCP channel and going to physical therapy for 6 weeks before I was given an x-ray, I had received a pain clinic referral and an MRI, as well as other treatment. Obviously my PCP was not okay with this. What he did next was reprehensible. My PCP contacted the pain clinic and said something so bad to them that by the next time I went they said they were no longer willing to treat me. Apparently he threatened them. I was forced to go through the PCP and have Tricare get me put through to a second pain clinic outside the post for care.
I did physical therapy, the PCP contacted the commander and told him I was on narcotics and placed me on a no drive profile, I was kicked off patrol and made to go back to platoon duty, monitoring younger soldiers while they did lawn maintenance. That meant that I would now have appointments for physical therapy as well as urology, that I couldn’t drive to. I would have to walk miles all over post. It was embarrassing and painful. My platoon sergeant said I would have rides to my appointments to ensure I wasn’t late or didn’t miss them. Yet at PT in the morning when I had to tell the first sergeant why I wasn’t in PT’s and why I had an appointment my platoon sergeant and platoon leader just glared at me with disgusted looks. I had to ask people who were being chaptered for rides and walk so fast I was killing my back more, as well as my knees because I was compensating for my back issues. I was having to take weekly UA’s to ensure I was no longer taking narcotics, I had to do this for three weeks before I was allowed to drive even my own personal vehicle again. I will probably go more in depth into this issue later, for now it is opening up way too many feelings for me.
I felt that HIPPA was violated when I had my driving privileges removed by the doctor and my chain of command. I immediately did the only thing I knew of, which was to contact patient advocacy. Once again I was attacked by the PCP. I was called by my platoon sergeant for a meeting one day before shift. I met up with him and the platoon leader. I was asked specifically what I told the patient advocate. I willingly showed him and told them everything. I was immediately told to change my story, to take back what I said, to leave it alone. I was told I was an E4 against an 05 and that it wasn’t just my head, it would be the platoon sergeant’s and the platoon leader’s as well; we would all go down. I refused, I felt targeted, I was no longer supported by anyone. It was that day that I was told I was no longer allowed to go to appointments alone. I would have to have an NCO with me at each one. Each one I would walk to and the NCO would meet me there. It was absolute bullshit.
The day I was told to change my story I was called into a “meeting” with the PCP. He was on convalescent leave for a shoulder surgery. He shouldn’t have even been working. It was purely a meeting to yell at me to tell me I was in the wrong, that he was within his rights to do everything he had done to me. The platoon sergeant and platoon leader were both there for that. I didn’t back down from my complaint and things only got worse from there. This was the beginning of my undoing. I would end up losing everything I had worked so hard for, slowly and painfully.
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