Physical Therapy Incident Report: Fill & Download for Free

I was waiting tables at a Tex-Mex restaurant, which served fajitas on sizzling skillets. The restaurant policy, for the safety of everyone involved, limited the weight of serving trays to forty pounds.One night, I went back to pick up an order, and the kitchen had layered plates and skillets across the tray. Some were hanging off the edges, while others were stacked on top. I told the expediter that the tray was too heavy and that I could not carry it, but she started yelling that I would be fine, and that I needed to hurry up and get the tray because I was holding up the line.I crouched down to position myself below the tray, and then I pushed up with my legs to stand. I got about three feet away when I felt a sharp pulling/tearing sensation near my left shoulder blade. I started calling for help, but no one stopped to help me. I dropped down to one knee, still pleading for assistance, and still no one stopped to help.At this point, I was crying and using all the strength I possessed to not drop the tray. A server finally stopped and grasped the tray from either side to help support it. She asked if I could stand, and I said I could not. A manager came over and helped the server lift the tray.Another server helped me to my feet. I couldn't turn my head, and I couldn't use my left arm. Luckily, there was an urgent care center right next door to the restaurant. I walked over there and saw a doctor. I had torn several muscles in my back, and I would need physical therapy, which ended up lasting for somewhere between six and eight weeks.When the doctor visit was over, I walked back to the restaurant to see if someone could drive me home. When I got there, my boss had me fill out an incident report. I did, but then I also gave him the bill and a workman's comp claim (provided by the urgent care center). The company didn't want to pay it, and my boss claimed it didn't qualify for workman's comp, because I had lifted a tray that was too heavy, as per company policy. Luckily, I had witnesses that I had been ordered to take the tray, even after protesting, and the company agreed to pay the claim. I could not have afforded therapy back then if they hadn't. The physical therapy was $125/ hour, two days a week, for several weeks, with reduced therapy towards the end of a six- to eight-week period. Even beyond that, it took a very long time to heal completely.I have had “dine and dashes” that caused me to have to use my tips for the night to pay for the stolen meal, and I would rather go through that than what I went through because of the overly heavy tray.

The death of my 17 year old son. In 2016 my son started complaining of pain in his hip/thigh area. We of course took him to the pediatrician (he was 16 at the time). Doctor said it was because his bone was growing faster than the leg muscle. Okay, fine. The pain continued. Doctor ordered x-rays. Nothing shows up. Pain continues. Doctor orders blood work. Inconclusive. Pain continues…actually getting worse. Doctor orders a CAT scan. Inconclusive. Doctor refers us to a rheumatologist. They diagnose him with juvenile arthritis. Then change their diagnosis to a slightly different form of arthritis.Okay, fine. We have a diagnosis. And it’s not a worst case scenario diagnosis. At this point my son is in intense pain. The only thing that helps is steaming hot showers, and that, according to him, only took his mind off his hip pain. The night before the second worst day of my life, my son spent most of it in the shower. Oh, and they also had my son going to physical therapy for the past month or so. So, we inform the rheumatologist we would like to start treatment for the arthritis. He says he would like one final CAT scan. I take my son later that day for one, not thinking much about it. At this point he had been poked and prodded, had multiple x-rays and a prior CAT scan. I thought the diagnosis had been determined. We come home from the scan, and my ex wife calls me. The rheumatologist had called her (apparently he only had her number) and he want’s my son in the hospital, like, yesterday. The scan apparently lit up like a Christmas tree this time.My son had been in pain, as I said. We immediately took him to the hospital, and he reported his pain level at a 10. They gave him morphine. They told us they suspected cancer but would need a biopsy to confirm. It came back positive for a rare childhood cancer called ewing sarcoma (I know that should probably be capitalized…sorry…I’m not gonna capitalize the name of this awful fucking cancer. ewing sarcoma is a bone cancer. From when my son first started complaining of pain to when he was finally (accurately) diagnosed, seven months had gone by. Seven months that we lost when we could have been actively battling this disease. They then did a full body scan and confirmed it had already spread to his lungs. I didn’t want to ask the oncologist what his odds were. I simply couldn’t stand hearing another human being tell me that information. Instead I went online and discovered that, at my son’s stage, the odds of survival were 30% at best.We fought. He fought. Chemo, radiation. Almost a full year of it. He had to be on crutches or a wheelchair because the cancer had nearly destroyed his upper femur. That was horrific hearing because as I said before he was (properly) diagnosed he was undergoing physical therapy…which could easily have shattered the bone. But he was responding positively to the chemo. After about eight months his leg scan showed clear and he was allowed to walk again. He was also allowed into a clinical study intended to match treatment to a particular cancer’s DNA. Things seemed to be looking up. I should also mention that, from when he was first administered morphine in the ER up until this point, his pain level went from a 10 to 0. To see your teenage son in pain for those seven months prior was a hell I don’t wish on anyone. So the fact that he was pain free during this period was a blessing. Fast forward another two months, My son has a full body MRI that show’s he is free of cancer. There were still a few nodules in his lungs but we were told those were most likely scar tissue from where his tumors used to be. We were euphoric.About a week later, I’m taking my kids to hang for the day with some good family friends. My son is quiet. I don’t think much of this…he was 17 and like any teenager could be quite moody at times. We got to the campground where we were meeting our friends when my son tells me his neck was hurting him. Like, lots. We call the oncologist, and are told to bring him in to the ER. They look him over, tell me it’s probably just muscle cramps possibly a side effect from one of the many drugs he’s been taking. I accepted this. After all, he just received an all clear scan. I can’t recall if it was one or two days later that we took him to the Children’s Hospital for his regularly scheduled appointment. He is still experiencing severe neck pain. Doctors do a MRI on his neck and back. It’s riddled with cancer. So, we go from a phone call from my son’s oncologist the week prior saying my son is cancer free, to being told later this day that my son’s cancer is terminal.My reaction? I was livid. I was red with anger. It took my son 7 months to be properly diagnosed (which really is what cost him his life. This cancer, caught early on, is very curable). There was another chart reading error made by the oncology team that happened prior which I haven’t gone into on here. There was going to the ER and being told it was just muscle spasms. And now after getting an “all clear” scan being told that not only is it not all clear, but in fact terminal!!! The oncologist explained that the whole body scan wasn’t capable of detecting cancer in the spine or some crap like that. I was never told that. I was never told that the “all clear” scan meant anything other than just that. The oncologist didn’t really seem to get my frustration and suggested I was free to take my son elsewhere if I wasn’t satisfied. Can you believe that. This person had been my son’s oncologist for 11 months, and this is the response I get.My son was given weeks to months to live. He ended up living another five months. He passed away on Valentine’s day of this year. The worst day of my life. And now my heart hurts every day.Edit: could i get a doctor to chime in? Why Not do a biopsy first. Bone and muscle. Rule out cancer. I know, costs so much. But guess what. My son would be alive now if this was policy.Edit2: So after the better part of two years I decided to contact a lawyer to see if a malpractice suit was even feasible. And after all you've read above, in the State of Michigan, USA, it is not. The only way I could sue and win is if they were withholding treatment to an extent until they discovered the cancer was spreading. So, oncologists in Michigan, go ahead, tell that family your loved one is free of cancer. Then, in the next week, let them know it's terminal. In the Great State of Michigan, that's all perfectly legal. And, I hate to get political, but it's compliments of the republican party which has ruled this state for 18 years and has decimated a citizen’s ability to sue for malpractice.

Thank you so much for the request to answer! I greatly appreciate it.Yes! Luckily, in my entire career I can only count about 3–4 doctors/surgeons who were exceptionally rude towards the care team and the patients.I will share two examples.Two of them were Critical Care physicians.One was “tenured” and unfortunately they kept him because of the contract he had signed. There were many incident reports done against him and even the hospital’s Risk Management had to be involved multiple times. Risk Management is basically the person who talks to the victim and does their best to abate their negative experience (in other words, they try to fix the experience so the patient/family doesn’t write a bad review against the hospital). If the incident was towards staff, upper management (usually the Manager of the unit where the incident happened or the Physician’s superior, Physician Director, will address the issue.) Once his contract was over, the Physician Director did not want to renew his contract and he eventually “retired.” Pretty much the entire hospital celebrated.I’ve had to fix a few mess-ups by this physician since I’m not only an advocate for my patients but also as a liaison for the hospital. It was awful and it was difficult trying to trust this physician especially if there was no consistency in their compassion towards the patients/families and the care team2.This second one was a recent medical school graduate… I’m not sure where she learned her manners but she was friendly for the first 2 weeks and then her claws came out. I really liked her since she was bubbly. But after a few weeks, her true colours came out and it was just like the first one above: terrible professionalism. My guess is that she was trying to throw her weight around: very BIG mistake in the intensive care ward as critical care nurses are very protective of our patients / families.Anyways, it got so terribly bad that I heard of an incident where she threw a phone at a nurse for some reason. The nurse cried and it became a very large ordeal. Human Resources got involved along with the Physician Director, and the Manager and Director of the victim’s unit. I remembered that I’ve had to place multiple incident reports against her because of the way she even treated her Mid-Level practitioners. I also placed an incident report whereby one of my patients became uncontrollable and had a high risk for falling but she ignored it throughout the night — obviously, since I did not want my poor gentleman to get another subdural haematoma, I did everything I could imaginable to prevent him from falling. Eventually that same patient injured my back since he was fairly large (roughly 230 kg = 500+ lbs), and, in his confusion, caught my arm and used me to bear himself up on the mattress. Naturally, he injured my back and I was out of work for 8 months!What more, Worker’s Compensation was exceptionally terrible and did not provide adequate care at all! I had to place myself on Short Term Disability and pay out of pocket for extra treatments myself! That experience transformed my view on healthcare and the hard truth was that ALTHOUGH the company expects superior care from their carers, when those same carers are injured in the line of duty, they MINIMALLY care for them! I had such a row with my orthopaedic physician since he kept saying, “Oh, you shouldn’t be hurting as much as you are. The scans show it was extremely minor.” In my head I said, “Why you, prat! I’m not some addict who seeks drugs! I’m a fellow clinician who cares for YOUR post-op surgical patients! I need pain control so I can resume my physical therapy!”So, what I ended up doing was paying out of pocket a pain-specialist who helped me through the acute phase of my injury. I likewise gave that orthopaedic physician a terrible review (and I knew full well that a negative review will also reduce OUR hospital’s credibility.)