Kevin Tune’s Military Medical Malpractice Incident from 2018.
My name is Sergeant First Class (Retired) Kevin Tune. I enlisted in the United States Army on May 29, 1998, at just 17 years old. Over my 20 years of service, I was stationed at various locations including Fort Knox, KY, Fort Hood, TX, South Korea, Peru, IL, and Fort Sam Houston, TX. I also served multiple combat deployments to Iraq and other locations, holding positions ranging from Armor Crewman, Driver, Loader, Gunner, Tank Commander, Section Sergeant, Platoon Sergeant, First Sergeant, and Operations Sergeant. My service was marked by a deep commitment to my country and my fellow soldiers.
During my time in the Army, I was honored with numerous awards, including the Bronze Star Medal, Meritorious Service Medal, seven Army Commendation Medals, four Army Achievement Medals, six Good Conduct Medals, the National Defense Service Ribbon, the Iraq Campaign Medal with three Campaign Stars, the Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal, the Global War on Terrorism Service Medal, the Korean Defense Service Medal, the Non-Commissioned Officer Professional Development Ribbon with numeral three, the Army Service Ribbon, four Overseas Service Ribbons, the Joint Meritorious Unit Award, the Valorous Unit Award, two Meritorious Unit Citations, and the prestigious Sergeant Audie Murphy Medallion. I also earned an Associate Degree in General Studies and a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration with a focus on Project Management.
My military career came to a sudden and tragic halt on April 1, 2015, when I underwent a routine Radiofrequency Nerve Ablation at the Brooke Army Medical Center (BAMC) Pain Management Clinic on my L3, L4, and L5 vertebrae. Following the procedure, I was released with instructions to rest for 72 hours. However, the very next day, I began experiencing extreme lower back pain, which I initially mistook for a kidney stone. I returned to BAMC’s emergency room, where I was given Toradol and Morphine intravenously and a prescription for Percocet. Despite the medication, the pain soon escalated to an unbearable level, and I sought readmission to the ER.
When I requested readmission, I was accused of being “drug-seeking” by the nursing staff. Despite these accusations, I was eventually readmitted, as my condition rapidly deteriorated. I began experiencing severe symptoms, including intense vomiting, hallucinations, and dark brown urine. By the evening of April 3, I was admitted to the hospital, but I have no memory of this admission.
The next morning, April 4, my wife Brittany arrived at the hospital to find me in a state of delirium, with a high fever of 104.3°F. Nurses and doctors were called in urgently, and I was transferred to the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) on the 3rd floor. An NG tube was inserted to remove stomach bile, but my fever would not break. Despite an ultrasound being performed on my kidneys, no stones were visible, and my bladder was thought to be obstructing the view. As the day progressed, Brittany noticed a bruise forming on my left side, which was quickly growing in size. The nurses circled the bruise with a sharpie pen to track its progress, and an immediate surgical consultation was called.
By 7:00 PM, I was taken into surgery. The bruise had expanded from my armpit to my hip, indicating the rapid spread of a severe infection. During the surgery, doctors discovered that I was suffering from Streptococcal A Necrotizing Fasciitis, a rare but deadly flesh-eating bacteria that was destroying the soft tissue on my left side and back. Much of the infected skin and muscle was removed in an attempt to save my life, but the infection had spread so extensively that my chances of survival were less than 10%.
My military career came to a sudden and tragic halt on April 1, 2015, when I underwent a routine Radiofrequency Nerve Ablation at the Brooke Army Medical Center (BAMC) Pain Management Clinic on my L3, L4, and L5 vertebrae. Following the procedure, I was released with instructions to rest for 72 hours. However, the very next day, I began experiencing extreme lower back pain, which I initially mistook for a kidney stone. I returned to BAMC’s emergency room, where I was given Toradol and Morphine intravenously and a prescription for Percocet. Despite the medication, the pain soon escalated to an unbearable level, and I sought readmission to the ER.
When I requested readmission, I was accused of being “drug-seeking” by the nursing staff. Despite these accusations, I was eventually readmitted, as my condition rapidly deteriorated. I began experiencing severe symptoms, including intense vomiting, hallucinations, and dark brown urine. By the evening of April 3, I was admitted to the hospital, but I have no memory of this admission.
The next morning, April 4, my wife Brittany arrived at the hospital to find me in a state of delirium, with a high fever of 104.3°F. Nurses and doctors were called in urgently, and I was transferred to the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) on the 3rd floor. An NG tube was inserted to remove stomach bile, but my fever would not break. Despite an ultrasound being performed on my kidneys, no stones were visible, and my bladder was thought to be obstructing the view. As the day progressed, Brittany noticed a bruise forming on my left side, which was quickly growing in size. The nurses circled the bruise with a sharpie pen to track its progress, and an immediate surgical consultation was called.
By 7:00 PM, I was taken into surgery. The bruise had expanded from my armpit to my hip, indicating the rapid spread of a severe infection. During the surgery, doctors discovered that I was suffering from Streptococcal A Necrotizing Fasciitis, a rare but deadly flesh-eating bacteria that was destroying the soft tissue on my left side and back. Much of the infected skin and muscle was removed in an attempt to save my life, but the infection had spread so extensively that my chances of survival were less than 10%.
In the early hours of April 4, 2015, Dr. Lundy, the attending physician, met with Brittany and my chain of command to inform them of my dire condition. He explained that I was being kept alive by life support and that the infection had spread beyond what they could surgically remove. My body was in septic shock, and my hands and feet had started to turn black due to the lack of blood flow. Doctors administered vasopressors to direct blood away from my extremities in an attempt to save my vital organs.
Over the next several days, I underwent multiple surgeries—19 in total—each one a desperate attempt to contain the infection and stabilize my condition. On April 5, 2015, in my second surgery, doctors removed my left kidney, my lowest left rib, and shaved part of my pelvis due to the extensive infection. They also performed exploratory surgery around my spine to assess the spread of the bacteria.
The situation became even more critical on April 10, when my heart stopped three times during the night, requiring emergency resuscitation. Surgery revealed a pus pocket around my lower spine, which was removed. This was followed by another surgery on April 11 to address a bleed detected by a CT scan.
By April 14, I had undergone eight surgeries, including a procedure to cover exposed areas around my shoulder blade with a tissue flap. During this surgery, I was able to breathe on my own, and the sedation was stopped to prevent the need for a medically induced coma. However, I remained in a coma for several more days. On April 15, I started rehabilitation on a tilt table to help with blood circulation. I woke up on the table in a panic, not knowing what was happening. The last thing I remembered was vomiting in the emergency room.
As the days passed, I gradually became more coherent, but my condition remained critical. On April 17, during my ninth surgery, surgeons decided against creating a muscle flap due to the regeneration of my own cells. By April 18, I was able to speak through a voice connector placed on my tracheostomy tube. However, I continued to suffer from hallucinations and severe pain.
On April 24, I underwent my eleventh surgery, during which a skin graft was placed over my left flank. However, my condition remained unstable, and on April 26, during my twelfth surgery, doctors searched for a suspected lung infection caused by aspiration. By April 30, I had undergone thirteen surgeries, with protective mesh placed over my intestines and more skin grafts planned.
The surgeries continued into May, with my fifteenth surgery on May 7 marking the first time my children were able to see me since my hospitalization. However, the road to recovery was long and fraught with complications. On May 15, I attempted to walk for the first time in 45 days, but my progress was slow. By May 18, I underwent my seventeenth surgery to explore the prognosis of my wounds, and a skin graft was taken from my left thigh to cover the remaining areas on my side.
After 84 days in the hospital, I was finally discharged home on June 23, 2015, but my life had been irrevocably changed. I was missing significant portions of my left abdominal core, lower latissimus, and upper left glute muscles. My toes had been amputated due to necrosis from septic shock, and this led to a below-the-knee amputation on my right leg. I had lived with my intestines outside of my body for months, and I now have a permanent colostomy with a mucus fistula that cannot be reversed.
Despite consultations with some of the world’s top surgeons, including those at UCLA, no one has been willing to attempt the surgery needed to reverse my condition due to the high probability of it killing me. For the past seven years, I have lived with a permanent colostomy and mucus fistula, enduring countless surgeries, complications, and pain.
In April 2017, I underwent surgery to place a permanent mesh from my ribs to my pelvis to hold my intestines in place. However, a wound vacuum was set too high and sucked a hole in my colon, causing a bile leak that sent my body into septic shock once again. I was taken back into emergency surgery, but the damage had been done. My wound dehisced, and my left side burst open. Over the next few months, my condition continued to deteriorate, and in August 2017, I was flown to the University of Maryland Shock Trauma Center for a second opinion. While Dr. Thomas Scalea and his team were able to put my intestines back inside my abdomen, complications arose once again, and I was left with an ostomy on my right side and a mucus fistula on my left.
In September 2018, I was medically retired from the U.S. Army after 20 years of service. I am now missing significant portions of my abdominal core, my toes, and my left leg below the knee. I have lived with my intestines outside of my body for months and now have a permanent colostomy and mucus fistula. I have had to relearn how to walk five different times due to surgeries, extended periods of being bedridden, and amputations.
My story is one of unimaginable pain, suffering, and loss. It is also a testament to the failures in our military medical system that allowed my condition to reach such a critical point. Despite the honor of serving my country, the price I have paid is beyond measure. I share my story in the hope that no other service member or their family will have to endure what my family and I have been through. It is my sincere wish that reforms can be made to protect our service members and ensure they receive the care and respect they deserve.