On September 6, 2011, Michael had an accident here at home. The ladder he was using to climb down off of the roof broke and almost severed his right foot off. This split-second accident changed our lives. Over the course of three years, he had multiple surgeries and several complications. The first complication was an infection from the hardware that was placed in his ankle area from the accident. It was a bad infection. I was surprised the infection didn’t kill him because it was that bad. From the initial accident, through each complication, I was trained to be his nurse. From giving him IV antibiotics, injections in his stomach, to the last surgery, a bone transfer, which was a halo with 30 pins in his leg where I had to clean each pin thoroughly each day to avoid another infection. This was also the last attempt to save his leg from amputation. If his leg became infected with this halo, they couldn’t do anything more for him. He always thanked me for saving his leg.
I don’t think anyone in his family understood how serious his injury was. His Dad stopped coming to visit him after a while which depressed him even more. He commented to me on several occasions that “he” was broken and that he was being looked at differently by everyone. I felt helpless because there was nothing more anyone could do. If he broke his leg again, even after the bone transfer he had, his doctor would have to amputate. After the halo was taken off, he was afraid to do anything. He walked around on pins and needles. I did what I could around the house. He would always comment that what I was doing was his job. I was overloaded with working full-time, taking care of him, the house, and our pets but I had to make sure he didn’t cause himself any injury. My mother adored Michael. She would visit him every week which he enjoyed. My mother would also help me with my house cleaning which I was always thankful for.
Michael was always a doer. It was very hard for him to sit idle during the time the halo was on his leg which was almost a year. He never watched much TV because he was always doing something but, when he was laid up, he didn’t have many choices of things to do. He would always comment on programs or commercials especially one about the Wounded Warriors Project. He always felt that our Government didn’t do enough for wounded veterans. Michael enjoyed caring for the grounds at the Oakdale Cemetery. He always took pride in his work there and always made sure there were no blades of grass around any of the headstones. It upset him that he could no longer do this.
Michael started feeling ill on Thanksgiving Day 2016. For him not to be able to finish a meal I knew something was wrong. He was having a lot of stomach problems but would not go see a doctor. He told me he didn’t want to have any more people poking at him or having to have another surgery. It got to the point where he couldn’t take it anymore and went to see his PCP which was on a Tuesday. I was surprised he wasn’t admitted. His doctor ordered outpatient testing which was scheduled on Thursday of the same week. Thursday morning when I was getting ready for work he told me that I had to take him to the emergency room but he didn’t want to go to the hospital where he was treated originally since it was farther away so I took him to the hospital where I used to work. He was admitted that same day and I was told the next day after a few tests were run, that Michael had metastatic colon carcinoma and there was nothing they could do for him except make him comfortable. I knew the surgeon who was assigned to Michael from when I worked in the ER. He pulled me aside and showed me the CT scan of his liver. He had 7 large tumors which you could only see a small section of his liver. I was shocked. I am glad the surgeon took the time to show me because none of the other attending physicians even mentioned this to me. Michael died a few days later.
It took me over 6 months to get all of his medical records but I was determined to find out what happened. I had my suspicions of what caused him to get cancer and destroy his liver. The outcome of the review was excessive antibiotic treatment. But I couldn’t sue the infectious disease doctor who treated him because I had to prove that the overdose was intentional. He saved Michael’s life from the infection but killed him with the treatment.
So now I am walking through life alone. I wanted the memory of my husband to live on so I created this grant program, The Michael S. Bertolino Foundation. This program will support local cemeteries by providing grants that will help them with maintenance expenses and also landscaping beautification. This program will also provide grants to the Wounded Warriors Project, assist other non-profits who provide support for cancer/disabled patients and veterans and the homeless.
This is for you Michael. I miss you every single day.
Love you always,
Cheryl