How I Fought Back Against Mesothelioma
My name is Jim Atkins, and I am a mesothelioma survivor. From the time I was a small kid, I always knew I wanted to work in home renovations. For me, the concept of turning something old and ugly into something new and stunning was infinitely appealing. I loved anything having to do with home renovations: painting, carpentry, electrical – you name it, I was all over it. In many ways, I was like Bob Vila or Tim Allen’s character from the popular show “Home Improvement.” Right out of high school, I got hired on with a local contractor and quickly threw myself into learning the trade and renovating old, dilapidated houses.
Little did I know that while I was plying my trade and transforming eyesores into gorgeous, freshly renovated homes, I was coming into regular contact with asbestos. Although this was over thirty years ago, it still amazes me to this day that my employer never once mandated that his crew wear face masks or other preventive equipment to protect us from dust and other more obvious hazards. The paint fumes alone should have been reason enough to compel the company that I worked for to insist that we workers use protective gear – but they never did.
Fast forward twenty-five years; I’ve made a real reputation and name for myself as a home renovations contractor and have worked for myself for a number of years. I not only have three children, but I have a grandchild on the way. My nest egg is slowly but surely being built up, and all of those years of hard, steady work are finally starting to pay off. Retirement is just around the corner, and I’m looking forward to slowing down the pace and spending more time with my family – and traveling, too. I plan on continuing to do odd jobs here and there, but want to retire for all intents and purposes.
Just as I’m starting to make some concrete plans for that retirement, a strange thing starts happening: I begin noticing a shortness of breath, chest pain and a persistent, raspy cough. Instead of going away, these symptoms progressively become worse and worse. I’ve never been a smoker, so I’m baffled. At my wife’s insistence, I go pay a visit to my doctor and come home with some devastating news: I have malignant mesothelioma.
It turned out that all those years working for that home renovations company – and not using protective gear – exposed me to high levels of asbestos. As I gutted out old homes and made them like new, I was breathing in asbestos fibers that were embedding themselves insidiously into the mesothelium – or membrane – of my lungs. Over the years, those fibers lay dormant but were doing their damage. They prompted tumors to grow and fluid to build up, leading to the symptoms I’d just now started noticing.
Malignant mesothelioma: a death sentence, I was certain. My doctor told me that all hope wasn’t lost, though, and we embarked on an aggressive set of treatments. Incredibly, my symptoms went into remission and I became a bonafide mesothelioma survivor. My next move? Contacting a mesothelioma lawyer. I got on the phone with a highly recommended firm; despite their great reputation, I was anxious, wary and unsure about what they could do for me.
As it turned out, they did a whole lot. My attorney informed me that mesothelioma lawsuits were quite common and very winnable – if I was willing to put up a fight. He convinced me that it would be foolhardy to let a huge settlement slip through my fingers. After all, that nest egg had dwindled down to nothing after all of the treatments I went through.
In the end, I was very glad I hired a mesothelioma lawyer. My case settled out of court, and I not only regained the nest egg I’d worked so hard for – I more than quadrupled it. I’m living, breathing proof that there is hope for mesothelioma victims.
