SFC Richard Stayskal was shot while deployed in the war on terror. Over time, SFC Stayskal developed stage 3 cancer in his lungs as a result of the bullet fragments in his chest that the military doctors never detected and the symptoms that were ignored, despite his many visits to the hospital as his health rapidly declined. Bottom line is that the Army completely fucked up and is guilty as hell of medical malpractice. SFC Stayskal is now terminal. He is going to die. The Army fucked him over and thanks to the Feres Doctrine that prevents the military being sued by members, he has no legal recourse for himself or his family. The congress and senate have tried to change this multiple times, as well as in the last NDAA, but it was shot down when it is reintroduced this year and it will be blocked again by the Chair of the Senate Judiciary Committee. The man who has signed SFC Stayskals death sentence. Senator Lyndsey Graham.
Here is the most recent video of Graham dropping the grim reaper FUCK YOU on SFC Stayskal.
For the cliff notes of the full story, current as of 24 October 2019, click the following link and jump to the 12:40 mark.
So, now you know SFC Stayskal’s story, I want to make it known that he is by far not the only one experiencing this type of military medical complacence, incompetence, and blatant negligence. Just hang out in the lobby of any VA Medical Center and ask random veterans about the care they are receiving and why they are there. You will be consumed by a very dark understanding of why so many veterans are killing themselves, some even setting fire to themselves in the VA parking lot. A great many of their health problems and pain are not a result of combat injuries, but of the proper medical care they DIDN’T receive from their base hospitals while still on active duty. I can give plenty of examples, but I won’t speak for anyone else. What I can offer is my own experience for your consideration.
As a 20 year old A1C in the Air Force, I had cancer. Hodgkins Nonschlerosing Lymphoma Stage 2A to be exact. I had lumps the size of pinballs sticking out of my neck. Three visits to the hospital and each time I was dismissed without any tests or thorough examination with anally extracted diagnoses of the flu, a cold, and an allergic reaction to cats. Cats…. I LIVED IN THE FUCKING BARRACKS!!! Where the fuck am I going to come into contact with a goddamn cat?!?!?! I broke medical SOP and contacted the surgeon directly because those lumps were starting to hurt. They got me in, he did a biopsy, and a few days later, I was headed for a Naval hospital in San Diego to begin radiation therapy. Full story from the previous FARTICLE below.
In 2000, while stationed in South Korea, I broke my knee cap. I could actually feel the break because when I pressed on my knee cap, I could see it butterfly along the crack. The x-ray tech looked at it and confirmed that it was clearly broken, but only a radiologist can make a formal diagnosis, which we didn’t have. The x-rays had to be sent to another base on peninsula that had a radiologist for that diagnosis. With no diagnosis, I humped through a PT test and two separate week-long exercises in full MOPP gear and body armor on a knee that was swollen to the size of a cantaloupe. I got the formal diagnosis two months later after I already PCS’d back to South Carolina. Thanks, fuckers….
In 2011, I smashed my heel pretty hard. Got it x-rayed and the tech said that if the radiologist sees anything broken or damaged, they will call me to tell me what needs to be done next. Never got a phone call, just the standard issue Ranger Candy (800mg Motrin or “vitamin M”). Fast forward to my VA retirement medical evaluation in 2014, three years later. The LPN asked me why I never received follow up treatment for the heel that I broke in 2011. Whuuuuutttt??? My heel was broken? I had no idea. They knew! It was documented by the fucking radiologist IN MY RECORDS!!! My heel still hurts occasionally as of this writing.
In 2015, after months of feeling exhausted, unable to breathe, loss of strength, passing out from just walking to my building from the parking lot, and being dismissed from the base hospital and three ER visits with ZERO examination or tests beyond blood work, I ended up in the ER one more time. Hours later, I was carried by ambulance to the nearest major civilian hospital where I spent the next nine days. I woke up with a 2-inch incision below my sternum and three chest tubes inserted into my torso. Turns out I had what is called pleural and pericardial effusions. Basically means that fluid was building up in the sacks around my heart and lungs, slowly crushing all three. So bad that I scored the chief of cardio-thoracic surgery. He had no bedside manner whatsoever, but he saved my life and I am forever in his debt. He pulled over FOUR LITERS of fluid out of my chest cavity, and that was just what he could find. The chest tubes drained another liter and a half over the rest of my time in there. Doc said he was amazed I wasn’t dead a week prior to showing up on his operating table. He told me that had they done the right tests when I first went in months prior, it could have been treated with antibiotics and I would have been perfectly fine.
In the following year, I had multiple follow up appointments with x-rays, CT scans, and MRIs. I was starting to feel the same problems again, my primary care manager said he can’t find anything wrong with me, but having been burned so hard so many times, I demanded an appointment with a specialist. I got in to see the pulmonologist and without even examining me, just looking at my records, he asked why no action had been taken for my COLLAPSED LUNG. Yup, apparently I had been struggling every day for about eight months with a collapsed lung that was CLEARLY VISIBLE on THREE CT SCANS and DOCUMENTED IN MY FUCKING RECORDS. This was the first I learned about this issue. The pulmonologist said that after that long, the fluid has likely coagulated, so odds were weak that he could remove much, if any. He stuck a huge fucking needle between my ribs and into my chest cavity, almost as painful as my bone marrow biopsy, and managed to get a lot of it out, but the damage was done.
Four and a half years since the hospital adventure with the effusions and I am still recovering. Thanks to muscle atrophy from the oxygen deprivation, I am a 135 lb scarecrow, down 30 lbs from my fighting weight prior to getting sick. Odds are I’ll never run a marathon again, probably won’t play softball again, won’t be able to push the weight I used to in the gym, and if challenged by an aggressor, I’ll probably have to just shoot them because there is no way I could gain any advantage in a hand to hand fight. I’m still working, still fighting for improvement where I can, and living my best life, but I would be lying if I told you I don’t hold the Air Force responsible for permanent damage that will hinder me for the rest of my life and yeah, I’m a little pissed that I have no legal options to hold the Air Force accountable for their medical complacence and negligence that contributed to my current condition.
I was already flagged for PTSD as a result of my time in uniform, but thanks to this final fuck you from the military medical WebMD rejects, I now get to deal with the daily fun of acid reflux, high blood pressure, anxiety, and panic attacks on top of the physical limitations. My shrink was fascinated with me because when she asked me how I continue to function and live a regular life, I just asked her what other choice did I have? Yeah, I’m fucked up, but I have something SFC Stayskal does not. The confidence that I will likely wake up tomorrow and be able to live a normal life and will most likely do so the next day and the next. SFC Stayskal does not have that assurance.
Senator Lyndsey Graham has the opportunity to do the right thing and kill the Feres Doctrine, but he won’t. Why? Because he is a blue falcon and he is a whore. The economy is strong, his biggest financial contributors are from the defense industry, he has forgotten everything he said during the debates in 2016 and has embraced his role as President Trump’s loyal and eager cock holster, and he has conveniently waved his banner of military service, despite having never contributed anything of substance and even promoting to the rank of O-6 while having served ZERO days in uniform as an O-5. Pretty miraculous to skip an entire rank without having to actually do anything but know the right guy who will hook a brother up with that deal and you reward that same guy on the back side. Look it up folks, Graham was as much of a fraud in uniform as he is in his role in politics. Ain’t politics convenient… Unless you are the soldier dying from terminal cancer as a result of a combat wound the military neglected to treat and your elected representative writes you off because you got “benefits” and you’re basically the same as a fucking test pilot. Get the fuck out of here with that bullshit!
To quote a man I admire and respect from the Drinkin’ Bros podcast linked above, Mr. Dan Holloway, Lyndsey Graham can get fucked! Our veterans deserve better. SFC Stayskal deserves better.